06.05.2009, 06:24
MYCENAE.
There's not a dog, nor note of any bird,
Nor shepherd's laugh, nor echo's lightest tones,
Only the lizard on the giant stones
Moves in Mycense moves, for this vain word
Affrights him from his wont, where lies interred
The treasure of Agamemnon; aye, the bones
Perchance, then Greece, in him of all her thrones
The leader, when in Aulis there was heard
The gathering after Helen, and the wind
Sighing among the congregated shrouds,
The waves, the songs, the augurs on the shore.
O solitude far deeper than the clouds',
For voices in their dwellings ye may find;
Here is the sun and shadow, and no more !
There's not a dog, nor note of any bird,
Nor shepherd's laugh, nor echo's lightest tones,
Only the lizard on the giant stones
Moves in Mycense moves, for this vain word
Affrights him from his wont, where lies interred
The treasure of Agamemnon; aye, the bones
Perchance, then Greece, in him of all her thrones
The leader, when in Aulis there was heard
The gathering after Helen, and the wind
Sighing among the congregated shrouds,
The waves, the songs, the augurs on the shore.
O solitude far deeper than the clouds',
For voices in their dwellings ye may find;
Here is the sun and shadow, and no more !