Stay now, and hearken! From that far-away

Cymbal on cymbal beats, the fierce horns bray,

Stars in their sapphire fade, 'tis break of day.

Green are those meads, foam-white the billow's crest,

And Night, withdrawing in the cavernous West,

Flings back her shadow on the salt sea's breast.

Snake-haired, snow-shouldered, pure as flame and dew,

Her strange gaze burning slumbrous eyelids through,

Rises the Goddess from the wave's dark blue.

TIDINGS