But when they ended, still awhile he stood, And but the sweet familiar thrush could hear, And all the day-long noises of the wood,10 And o'er the dry leaves of the vanished year His hounds' feet pattering as they drew anear, And heavy breathing from their heads low hung, To see the mighty cornel[290] bow unstrung.
Then smiling did he turn to leave the place,15 But with his first step some new fleeting thought A shadow cast across his sunburnt face; I think the golden net that April brought From some warm world his wavering soul had caught; For, sunk in vague sweet longing, did he go20 Betwixt the trees with doubtful steps and slow.
Yet howsoever slow he went, at last The trees grew sparser, and the wood was done; Whereon one farewell, backward look he cast, Then, turning round to see what place was won,25 With shaded eyes looked underneath the sun, And o'er green meads and new-turned furrows brown Beheld the gleaming of King Schœneus'[291] town.
So thitherward he turned, and on each side The folk were busy on the teeming land,30 And man and maid from the brown furrows cried, Or midst the newly blossomed vines did stand, And as the rustic weapon pressed the hand Thought of the nodding of the well-filled ear, Or how the knife the heavy bunch should shear.35
Merry it was: about him sung the birds, The spring flowers bloomed along the firm dry road, The sleek-skinned mothers of the sharp-horned herds Now for the barefoot milking-maidens lowed; While from the freshness of his blue abode,40 Glad his death-bearing arrows to forget, The broad sun blazed, nor scattered plagues as yet.
Through such fair things unto the gates he came, And found them open, as though peace were there; Wherethrough, unquestioned of his race or name,45 He entered, and along the streets 'gan fare, Which at the first of folk were wellnigh bare; But pressing on, and going more hastily, Men hurrying too he 'gan at last to see.
Following the last of these, he still pressed on,50 Until an open space he came unto, Where wreaths of fame had oft been lost and won, For feats of strength folk there were wont to do. And now our hunter looked for something new, Because the whole wide space was bare, and stilled55 The high seats were, with eager people filled.
There with the others to a seat he gat, Whence he beheld a broidered canopy, 'Neath which in fair array King Schœneus sat Upon his throne with councillors thereby;60 And underneath this well-wrought seat and high, He saw a golden image of the sun,[292] A silver image of the Fleet-foot One.[293]
A brazen altar stood beneath their feet Whereon a thin flame flickered in the wind;65 Nigh this a herald clad in raiment meet Made ready even now his horn to wind, By whom a huge man held a sword, intwined With yellow flowers; these stood a little space From off the altar, nigh the starting-place.70
And there two runners did the sign abide Foot set to foot,—a young man slim and fair, Crisp-haired, well-knit, with firm limbs often tried In places where no man his strength may spare; Dainty his thin coat was, and on his hair75 A golden circlet of renown he wore, And in his hand an olive garland bore.