Where now we bear thee, clasped in our embraces.”
And slowly, slowly, sunk the amorous Naiads;
The boy’s blue eyes, upturned, looked through the water,
Pleading for help; but Heaven’s immortal Archer
Was swathed in cloud. The ripples hid his forehead,
And last, the thick, bright curls a moment floated,
So warm and silky that the stream upbore them,
Closing, reluctant, as he sunk forever.
The sunset died behind the crags of Imbros.
Argo was tugging at her chain; for freshly