31.12.2010, 12:42
NAUSICAA.
Oft, from my classic memory's inmost shade,
That fair Phaeacian shore to light I bring,
Where young Nausicaa stood,—that royal maid,
Whose brave-eyed pity faced the naked king,
And made a shipwreck sweet. Beside the bed
Of a near stream he found the robe and oil,
Her timely present to the man of toil ;
Anon she took the chariot-reins, and led
The way, while in among her train he pass'd :
Then to the sacred grove, when they had come
Near that unsocial city ; till, at last.
He hail'd his sea-star in her own bright home, —
The girl who clothed his shame, and by the clue
Of purple yarn, foreshow'd him where to sue.
Oft, from my classic memory's inmost shade,
That fair Phaeacian shore to light I bring,
Where young Nausicaa stood,—that royal maid,
Whose brave-eyed pity faced the naked king,
And made a shipwreck sweet. Beside the bed
Of a near stream he found the robe and oil,
Her timely present to the man of toil ;
Anon she took the chariot-reins, and led
The way, while in among her train he pass'd :
Then to the sacred grove, when they had come
Near that unsocial city ; till, at last.
He hail'd his sea-star in her own bright home, —
The girl who clothed his shame, and by the clue
Of purple yarn, foreshow'd him where to sue.