I knew the stars would come, Brighter than English stars And purer than the stars of battle! They shine on Thessaly, On the pale Argive plain, And leave a lovelier light on Lesbos. O Grecian stars, how oft At home, in the grey sea, I longed to know the lands ye guard! Now death, propitious, speeds My soul on those dark tides Whose foam ye lit when Helen fled. Blow, wind of Tauris, blow! This is the sea that heard The Lesbian's cry, and further south The shining song of him Whose heart was washed with tears. O southward blowing wind, blow on! |