She dreams and drowses languorously,
Swayed in the swaying of the tides.
She is a goddess left for us,
Veiled with the softening veils of time;
Her blue-veined breasts are now sublime,
Her moulded torso glorious.
The pity that we must come and go—!
While the old gold and the marble stays,
Forever gleaming its soft strong blaze,
Calm in the early evening glow.