CII. First she begins to chafe him till she faints, CIII. The hot sun parches his discover'd eyes, The hot sun beats on his discolour'd limbs, The sand is oozy whereupon he lies, Soiling his fairness; then away she swims, Meaning to gather him a daintier bed, Plucking the cool fresh weeds, brown, green, and red. CIV. But, simple-witted thief, while she dives under, Another robs her of her amorous theft; The ambush'd fishermen creep forth to plunder, CV. Lo! how she shudders off the beaded wave! CVI. Then with her frantic hands she rends her hairs, But grief lies deeper, and remains behind Turning her very thoughts to throbs of pain. CVII. Anon her tangled locks are left alone, CVIII. Or think of Ariadne's utter trance, Craz'd by the flight of that disloyal traitor, Ev'n in the cloudy summit of her woe, When o'er the far sea-brim she saw him go. CIX. For even so she bows, and bends her gaze O'er the eternal waste, as if to sum Its waves by weary thousands all her days, Dismally doom'd! meanwhile the billows come, And coldly dabble with her quiet feet, Like any bleaching stones they wont to greet. CX. And thence into her lap have boldly sprung, Washing her weedy tresses to and fro, That round her crouching knees have darkly hung, But she sits careless of waves' ebb and flow, Like a lone beacon on a desert coast, Showing where all her hope was wreck'd and lost. CXI. Yet whether in the sea or vaulted sky, So like a shape of dreams he left her eye, Winking with doubt. Meanwhile, the churl's report Has throng'd the beach with many a curious face, That peeps upon her from its hiding place. CXII. And here a head, and there a brow half seen, Still check'd by human caution and strange dread. This crouches down, and just above his shoulder, A woman's pity saddens in her eyes, And prompts her to befriend that lonely grief, With all sweet helps of sisterly relief. CXIV. And down the sunny beach she paces slowly, CXV. And, like a seal, she leaps into the wave That drowns the shrill remainder of her scream; Anon the sea fills up the watery cave, And seals her exit with a foamy seam, CXVI. Some watch, some call, some see her head emerge, Under the deep, inscrutable, - and there Weeps in a midnight made of her own hair. |