ERINNA.
245
Which from that moment kindled in my heart.
I well remember how I flung myself,
Like a young goddess, on a purple cloud
Of light and odour—the rich violets
Were so etherial in bloom and breath:
And I,—I felt immortal, for my brain
Was drunk and mad with its first draught of fame.
'T is strange there was one only cypress tree,
And then, as now, I lay beneath its shade.
The night had seen me pace my lonely room,
Clasping the lyre I had no heart to wake,
Impatient for the day: yet its first dawn
Came cold as death; for every pulse sank down,
Until the very presence of my hope
Became to me a fear. The sun rose up;
I stood alone mid thousands: but I felt
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