Ah, had ye chanced to reach the home On which your fond desires were set, Into what troubles had ye come?

Short love and joy, and long regret.

But now, but now, when ye have lain Asleep with us a little while Beneath the washing of the main,

How calm shall be your waking smile!

For ye shall smile to think of life

That knows no troublous change or fear,

No unavailing bitter strife,

That ere its time brings trouble near. Orpheus

Is there some murmur in your ears, That all that we have done is nought, And nothing ends our cares or fears, Till the last fear is on us brought?

Sirens

Alas! and will ye stop your ears,

In vain desire to do aught, And wish to live 'mid cares and fears, Until the last fear makes you nought?

Orpheus

Is not the May-time now on earth,
When close against the city wall
The folks are singing in their mirth,
While on their heads the May-flowers
fall?

Sirens

Yes, May is come, and its sweet breath Shall well-nigh make you weep to-day, And pensive with swift-coming death, Shall ye be satiate of the May.

Orpheus

Shall not July bring fresh delight.
As underneath green trees ye sit,
And o'er some damsel's body white
The noontide shadows change and
flit?

Sirens

No new delight July shall bring
But ancient fear and fresh desire,
And spite of every lovely thing,
Of July surely shall you tire.
Orpheus

And now, when August comes on thee,
And 'mid the golden sea of corn
The merry reapers thou mayst see,
Wilt thou still think the earth forlorn?

Sirens

Set flowers upon thy short-lived head,
And in thine heart forgetfulness
Of man's hard toil, and scanty bread,
And weary of those days no less.

Orpheus

Or wilt thou climb the sunny hill,
In the October afternoon,
To watch the purple earth's blood fill
The gray vat to the maiden's tune?

Sirens

When thou beginnest to grow old,

Bring back remembrance of thy bliss With that the shining cup doth hold, And weary helplessly of this.

Orpheus

Or pleasureless shall we pass by

The long cold night and leaden day, That song, and tale, and minstrelsy Shall make as merry as the May?

Sirens

List then, to-night, to some old tale Until the tears o'erflow thine eyes; But what shall all these things avail, When sad to-morrow comes and dies? Orpheus

And when the world is born again,

And with some fair love, side by side, Thou wanderest 'twixt the sun and rain, In that fresh love-begetting tide;

Then, when the world is born again,

And the sweet world before thee lies, Shall thy heart think of coming pain, Or vex itself with memories?

PROLOGUE OF THE EARTHLY PARADISE

OF Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing,

I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make quick-coming death a little thing,

Or bring again the pleasure of past years, Nor for my words shall ye forget your tears,

Or hope again for aught that I can say, The idle singer of an empty day.

But rather, when aweary of your mirth,
From full hearts still unsatisfied ye sigh,
And, feeling kindly unto all the earth,
Grudge every minute as it passes by,
Made the more mindful that the sweet
days die-

-Remember me a little then I pray,
The idle singer of an empty day.

So was the pageant ended, and all folk Talking of this and that familiar thing In little groups from that sad concourse broke,

For now the shrill bats were upon the wing,

And soon dark night would slay the evening,

And in dark gardens sang the nightingale

Her little-heeded, oft-repeated tale.

And with the last of all the hunter went, Who, wondering at the strange sight he had seen,

Prayed an old man to tell him what it meant,

Both why the vanquished man so slain had been,

And if the maiden were an earthly