THE GARDEN OF EROS. 
I3 
LYSANDER 
 
In my soul — my soul ! — thou flowest 
Suave and sibylline and sure. 
O the stream I launched this boat on ! 
O the pool my fancies float on ! 
I am drowned in bays of bliss — 
Salmacis ! — my Salmacis ! 
 
HYACINTHOS 
 
Heliorus, siren ! 
I have overmatched thee now ; 
From the bag of Chiron 
Drawn a luckier lot than thou ! 
 
SILENUS 
 
Come, we have dallied long enough 
With music and with love. 
Set to the wine, and slide 
Each twined like vines, fair boy, fair bride, 
Down the long glade of sleep, 
At the sun’s summoning. 
We shall be carolling, upon the steep, 
The happy dawn’s return. 
We shall wake — and bathe — and burn.