Arion scarcely heard the strain,
Her song was lost, her smile was vain,
He had a charm all charms above,
To guard his heart—the charm of love.
He floated on. The morning came,
With lip of dew and cheek of flame;
He looked upon his native shore,
His voyage, his perilous voyage is o'er.
There stood a temple by the sea,
Raised to its queen, Amphitrite:
Arion entered, and kneeling there
He saw a Girl, like spring-day fair,
Feeding with incense the sacred flame,
And he heard her hymn, and it breathed his name.
Oh, Love! a whole life is not worth this bliss—
Eglæ has met her Arion's kiss!—
They raised an altar upon the seashore,
And every spring they cover'd it o'er
With fruits of the wood and flowers of the field,
And the richest perfumes that the East could yield;
And as the waves rolled, they knelt by the side,
And poured their hymn to the Queen of the Tide.
L. E. L.
