THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
35 
SONG OF APHRODITE’S HANDMAIDENS 
 
My dreams are sweet, because my heart is free 
Because our locks still mingle and lips meet, 
Because thine arms still hold me tenderly, 
My dreams are sweet. 
 
Visions of waters rippling by my feet, 
Trees that re-weave their branches lovingly, 
Birds that pass passionate on pinions fleet : 
 
Such quiet joys my eyes in slumber see— 
Let death’s keen sickle wander through the 
wheat ! 
I love not life o’ermuch ;  since loving thee 
My dreams are sweet. 
 
Sing, little bird, it is dawn ; 
Chant, with the day the woods ring ; 
Now in the blush of the morn 
Sing ! 
 
Love doth enchain me and cling, 
Love, of the breeze that is born, 
Love, with the breeze that takes wing,