Tale of Archais

70 THE TALE OF ARCHAIS Than earthly stars and flowers That beam lasciviously through night’s empurpled hours ! O well of fire ! O fountain of delicious spurting flame Grown sad with shame, Whose imminent desire Drinks in the dew of earth, Gives its own limpid streams to quench man’s deathly dearth. O gardened rose ! The fern-fronds gird thy fragrant beauty round. Thy ways are bound With petals that unclose When the sun seeks his way Through night and sleep and love to all the dreams of day. Love, sleep, and death ! The three that melt together, mingle so Man may not know The little change of breath (Caught sigh that love desires,) When love grows sleep, and sleep at last in death expires.