Till each turns away, with a sigh,
To the lamp that burns brightly within.
The City and the Sea.
The panting City cried to the Sea,
“I am faint with heat,—O breathe on me!”
And the Sea said, “Lo, I breathe! but my breath
To some will be life, to others death!”
As to Prometheus, bringing ease
In pain, come the Oceanides,