For love amid the forest’s loneliness.”
The lowing kine awake them and they gird on their dappled fawn-skins:—
“Then they pressed
Wreathed ivy round their brows, and oaken sprays
And flowering bryony. And one would raise
Her wand and smite the rock, and straight a jet
Of quick bright water came. Another set
Her thyrsus in the bosomed earth, and there
Was red wine that the god sent up to her,
A darkling fountain. And if any lips