22 
THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
The mists pass slowly on the uplands steep, 
Far snows are luminous with rosy flecks 
Of lambent light, and shadow tints and decks 
Their distant hollows with black radiance, 
While the delivered fountains flash and glance 
Adown the hills and through the woods of pine 
And stately larch, with cadences divine 
And trills and melodies instinct with light and 
wine. 
 
The sun, arising, sees the sleeping youth 
And lumes his locks with evanescent gold, 
While birds and breezes, watching, hold them 
mute, 
And light and silence, the twin-born of truth, 
Reign o’er the meadow, and possess the wold. 
The poet bows his head, and lays aside his lute.