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NARCISSUS.
241
But for a feeble indetermination.
Canst thou no pity, no requital offer?
Thou wouldst not torture me to death, Narcissus!"
"Narcissus!"
A thousand voices cail, "Narciss—Narcissus!"
A form, enrobed in white, came lightly stealing
To where the gloatingponderer was kneeling,
A Grecian maiden fair stood at his side.
She wreathed her arm about his neck and, stooping,
She laid her cheek to his, her lashes drooping.
"Narcissus, be a man, with manly pr ide!"
She spake, "tum from thy fountain prison,
Gain thou the heights to which thypeers have risen;
Go brave the bravest in the land, Narcissus,
And win thee laurels—and a maiden’s kisses!"
"Narcissus!"
The stealthy echoes whisper as they listen.
Back from his troubled brow he stroked the tresses,
And for the maiden’s words and fond caresses
For got the fountain mirror of his woe.
They gaily stroll through teeming fields of flowers,
While Fauns peep slyly from their woodland bowers
And laugh with wild, uproarious glee to know
That Aphrodites’ spell at last is broken
Through words of magic power by maiden spöken,
Returning to the youth his strength and marrow.
" ’ Twas love alone that wrought thy cure, Narcissus,
Narcissus/"
Quoth Echo, dy ing at the fount of sorrow.
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