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ORPHEUS.

I thought of Orpheus, stretched a summer's day
'Neath a green plane-tree glittering in the sun,
While o'er his head her web Arachne spun,
With quiet toil; and he divined his lay,

That deepest things aimed like the gods to say,
Joying the earth with great comparison :
The wild birds went and came, and every one
Clove with a steady wing his airy way :

They turned not from his silence: plants and flowers
Grew o'er the place, more fair than wisest art
Shapes them in temples of bright stones or gold :

Then, with the music of those passing hours
Possest, rose up the poet to depart;
And his lit eye was glorious to behold.