44 
THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
For anything but to discover him, 
And her large eyes with weeping grew more dim 
Than are the mists of Autumn on the hills. 
She sought him far and near ;  the rocks and 
rills 
Could tell her nought ;  the murmur of the trees 
Told her their pity and no more ;  the breeze 
That cooled its burning locks within the sea, 
And dared not pass o’er the dank swamps 
where he 
Was hid, knew nothing ;  nor the soughing waves, 
Through all the desolation of those caves 
The sea-nymphs haunt, could say a word of 
him ; 
No stars, to whom she looked, had seen the 
grim 
Abodes of Charicles, for deadly shade 
Lowered o’er their top, nor any light betrayed 
The horror of their core.  Despairing then 
Of nature’s prophets, and of gods and men, 
She cast her arms wide open to the sky, 
Cried loud, and wept, and girt herself to die. 
 
It was a pinnacle of ivory 
Whereon she stood, the loftiest of three fangs