28.10.2007, 13:29
LEMNOS.
ON this lone isle, whose rugged rocks affright
The cautious pilot, ten revolving years
Great Pagan's son, unwonted erst to tears,
Wept o'er his wound ; alike each rolling light
Of heaven he watched, and blamed its lingering flight ;
By day the sea-mew screaming round his cave
Drove slumber from his eyes ; the chiding wave
And savage howlings chased his dreams by night.
Hope still was his : in each low breeze that sighed
Through his low grot he heard a coming oar-
In each white cloud a coming sail he spied ;
Nor seldom listened to the fancied roar
Of Oeta's torrents, or the hoarser tide
That parts famed Trachis from the Euboic shore.
ON this lone isle, whose rugged rocks affright
The cautious pilot, ten revolving years
Great Pagan's son, unwonted erst to tears,
Wept o'er his wound ; alike each rolling light
Of heaven he watched, and blamed its lingering flight ;
By day the sea-mew screaming round his cave
Drove slumber from his eyes ; the chiding wave
And savage howlings chased his dreams by night.
Hope still was his : in each low breeze that sighed
Through his low grot he heard a coming oar-
In each white cloud a coming sail he spied ;
Nor seldom listened to the fancied roar
Of Oeta's torrents, or the hoarser tide
That parts famed Trachis from the Euboic shore.