And all the sails of fighting ships were furled,
And men drew breath, and there was peace again.
But him that saw, the sight like flame
Or depths of waters overcame:
He swooned, nor heard how ceased the choir
Of strings upon Apollo’s lyre,
Nor saw he how the sweet god stood
And smiled on him in kindly mood,
And stooped, and kissed him as he lay;
Then lightly rose and turned away