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ATLANTIS.
23
All tropic drupes from rustling branches hung, Sun-steeped, delicious, fair of hue and shape; And vines far-climbing, such as greenly drapeUnsightly rocks, o'er every boulder grew; Dark waxed the crowded clusters of the grape,Their swelling globes earth's rarest sweetness drew,Till warm and rich they swung, a-drip with purple dew.
V.Peace smoothed the velvet sward of every slope; Earthquake nor avalanche dared the stillness shockBy swift cascades the lithe-limbed antelope, As fleetly vaulting, leaped from rock to rock; Each glen did some pure fountain-source unlock,Where panther, ounce, and tawny lion drank Beside the antlered herd and fleecy flock;No scarlet death might stain or wave or bank,For none his fellow vexed—no menaced weakling shrank.
