Golden dice," it answered: "dropt within the fount there,

Note what sum the pips present!" And still we see each die, the very one,

Turn up, through the crystal,—read the whole account there

Where 't is told by Suetonius,—each its highest throw.

Scarce the sportive fancy-dice I fling show "Venus:"

Still—for love of that dear land which I so oft in dreams revisit—

I have—oh, not sung! but lilted (as—between us—

Grows my lazy custom) this its legend. What the lilt?

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