With his Arrow he smote her and cried,
‘Come not here!
Not here will I bear thee. This is My world—
The world of Death where Beauty dies,
And I, I Death am god.’
She sobbing arose, and sobbing sank;
And would have perish’d, but Love that way
Fell like a flame, and supported her
And warm’d her dying hands;
And said to him, ‘Fool, the touch of thy barb
Is poison that I can poison with Love;
For as thou art Death unto all the world,
Even so am I Death to thee.’
[Calypso to Ulysses]
’ ’’’ ’’’ ’’’
’ ’’’ ’’’ ’’
Go, go from me sorrowful Wanderer—
Go, go from me, tho’ no Man dearer
Than thou art. The Stars will revisit me,
And Thou not forget me O Ocean.
Alone here, alone in my Solitude
I’ll sit by the Ocean for ever,
And mourn for the Hero so lost to me—
So loved by me, Lost, and no omen.
Monotonous Waters shall sing to me;
Shall sigh to me, sing of my Hero.
Immortal like me is my Misery,
And when will my Sorrow grow older.