He dug with slaves for Greekling manuscript,
Danced like a slave-girl when he found, and shipped
Westward cracked heads and friezes we had chipped.
I saw him kiss a statue, murmuring eager-lipped:
"Fear was born when the woods were young.
Chance had gathered an heap of sods,
Where the slip of a tree-man's tongue
Throned the dam of the elder gods.
Twilight, a rustled leaf,
Started the first belief