Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
ONCE I held a well-carved brimming goblet,--In my two hands tightly clasp'd I held it,Eagerly the sweet wine sipp'd I from it,Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow.
Thus she spoke, and with her silent companion advanced sheThrough the garden, until the floor of the granary reach'd they,Where the sick woman lay, whom she left by her daughters attended,Those dear rescued maidens, the types of innocent beauty.Both of them enter'd the room, and from the other direction,Holding a child in each hand, her friend, the magistrate, enter'd.These had lately been lost for some time by the sorrowing mother,But the old man had now found them out in the crowd of the people.And they sprang in with joy, to greet their dearly-loved mother,To rejoice in a brother, the playmate now seen for the first time!
"The prize long destined, now receive from me;That blest one will be safe from ev'ry ill,
"To thy priests' commands give ear!
Streams renew'd for ever
Sorrow still would sadden me;But when seas our paths divide,
From the uncertain present's heavy chain,Gave his fresh-kindled mind a respite brief,
As he proceeded on his wayHe thought, "I was too weak to-day;To bow I'll ne'er again be seen;For goats will swallow what is green."Across the fields he now must speed,Not over stumps and stones, indeed,But over meads and cornfields sweet,Trampling down all with clumsy feet.A farmer met him by-and-by,And didn't ask him: how? or why?But with his fist saluted him.
And takes a willow rod,So that the pious man may e'en
But if her mother can succeedIn gaining for her maxims heed,And softening the girl's heart too,So that she coyly shuns our view,--The heart of youth she knows but ill;