ARTHUR
GRIMBLE .
*ATLANTIS .
IN
dreams, my soul was backward
drawn
1
A
thousand
thousand
years
to -night,
Back
to
the world 's impulsive dawn
When
first
Atlantis
knew
the
light.
Great Cities
of the men
of
old
,
I
saw
them
all
in
fire
of
gold
.
There
,
many
a
climbing minaret
Lay mirrored
in
the
dreaming
sea
With
strangely
precious
carvings set
In
chrysoprase
and ebony
,
And metals
,
wrought
in
fashions
fair
Of filagree
as
light
as
air
.
The
streets were full
of
cheerful noise
;
Princes
and burghers
passed me
by
,
And
grave
philosophers
,
and boys
,
And maidens with
reluctant
eye
.
And
every
robe
was brightly
kissed
With
green
,
and
gold
,
and amethyst
.
Around
the
cities
sacred
groves
,
Fulfilled
of
sunny
pleasure
,
lay
,
Soft
with
the
rumour
of
the doves
;
While
sounds
of
singing far away
Told
how
the
priests
in
ancient wise
Led heifers
to
the
sacrifice
.