Page:Writings of Oscar Wilde - Volume 01.djvu/83

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THE GARDEN OF EROS.
69
And then I'll pipe to thee that Grecian tale  How Cynthia loves the lad Endymion, And hidden in a gray and misty veil  Hies to the cliffs of Latmos, once the Sun Leaps from his ocean bed, in fruitless chase Of those pale flying feet which fade away in his embrace.
And if my flute can breathe sweet melody,  We may behold Her face who long agoDwelt among men by the Ægean sea, And whose sad house with pillaged portico And friezeless wall and columns toppled down Looms o'er the ruins of that fair and violet-cinctured town.
Spirit of Beauty! tarry still a-while,  They are not dead, thine ancient votaries, Some few there are to whom thy radiant smile  Is better than a thousand victories, Though all the nobly slain of Waterloo Rise up in wrath against them! tarry still, there are a few,
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