THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
47 
Since Hell’s gates open, and close fast again 
Behind some servants of thy barren and vain 
Though queenliest shrine. 
 
I am of those 
Who hear their brazen clanging as they close 
Fastward on life, 
I wane to-night, wearied with endless strife, 
A lover always, never yet a wife, 
Lost in love’s woes. 
 
O bitter doom ! 
Fierce love flames up, then sinks in eddying 
gloom 
Across the waves 
Whose awful stillness are lovers’ graves, 
Who chant in fearful melody the staves 
Of bitter doom.— 
 
Not unperceived of Cypris did her song 
Die fitfully upon her tremulous tongue, 
Nor fell the melody on cruel ears : 
The bright-throat goddess sped through many 
spheres 
Of sight, beyond the world, and flamed across 
All space, on wings that not the albatross