“Artemidora! Gods invisible, | |
While thou art lying faint along the couch, | |
Have tied the sandal to thy veined feet, | |
And stand beside thee, ready to convey | |
Thy weary steps where other rivers flow. | 5 |
Refreshing shades will waft thy weariness | |
Away, and voices like thine own come nigh, | |
Soliciting, nor vainly, thy embrace.” | |
Artemidora sigh’d, and would have press’d | |
The hand now pressing hers, but was too weak. | 10 |
Fate’s shears were over her dark hair unseen | |
While thus Elpenor spake: he look’d into | |
Eyes that had given light and life erewhile | |
To those above them, those now dim with tears | |
And watchfulness. Again he spake of joy, | 15 |
Eternal. At that word, that sad word, joy, | |
Faithful and fond her bosom heav’d once more, | |
Her head fell back: one sob, one loud deep sob | |
Swell’d through the darken’d chamber; ’t was not hers: | |
With her that old boat incorruptible, | 20 |
Unwearied, undiverted in its course, | |
Had plash’d the water up the farther strand. | |