And riddles of the all immortal eves,—
That still o'er Delphic lawns
Speak as the gods spoke through oracular leaves—
I read with new-born eyes,
Remembering how, a slave,
They buried me, a living sacrifice,
Once in a dead king's grave.
Or, crowned with hyacinth and helichrys,
How, towards the altar in the marble gloom,—
Hearing the magadis