Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE TALE OF ARCHAIS. A ROMANCE IN VERSE. 1898. TO THE WHITH MAID THIS TALE OF GRE THE AUTHOR'S BALLADE OF HIS TALE. Go to the woodlands, English maid, Or where the downs to seaward bend, When autumn is in gold arrayed, Or spring is green, or winters send A frosty sun, or summers blend Their flowers in every dainty dye, And take, as you would take a friend, This pleasant tale of Thessaly. Lie on the greensward, while the shade Shortens as morning doth ascend The gates of Hfeaven, and bud and blade Laugh at the dawn, while breezes lend Their music, till you comprehend The meaning of the world, and sigh— Yet love makes happy in the end This pleasant tale of Thessaly. Turn from my book, the poet prayed, And look to Heaven, an hour to spend Before Ilis throne who spake and bade The fountains of the deep descend, And bade the earth uproot and rend To pitch like tents the mountains high, And gave him language who hath penned This pleasant tale of Thessaly. ENVOI. Fair maiden. who hast rightly weighed The message of the morning sky, Think kindly of the man who made | This pleasant tale of Thessaly. 7 ENS OF ENGLAND ECE IS DEDICATED. THE TALE OF ARCHIAITS. Part I. SHE lay within the water, and the sun Made golden with his pleasure every one Of small cool ripples that surround her throat, Mix with her curls, and catch the hands that float Like water-lilies on the wave ; she lay And watched the silver fishes leap and play, And almost slept upon the soughing breast That murmured gentle melodies of rest, And touched her tiny ear, and made her dream Of sunny woods above the sacred stream Where she abode (her home was cool and dark That no small glow-worm with his tender spark Might lighten till the moon was down, a nook Far from the cuol enticements of the brook, And hidden in the boskage close and green.) So dreamed she, smiling like a faéry queen ; So the bright feet and forehead of the breeze Lured her to sleep, and shook the morning trees Clear of the dewfall, and disturbed the grass, So that no rustle, should a serpent pass, i Might rouse her reverie. So then, behold, Chance leant from Heaven with feet and face of gold, And hid the iron of her body bare With such warm cloudlets as the morning aii