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The poems of Thomas Gordon Hake

VENUS URANIA

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Is this thy Paphos,—the devoted place

Where rests, in its own eventide, thy shrine?

To thee not lone is solitude divine

Where love-dreams o’er thy waves each other chase

And melt into the passion of thy face!

The twilight waters, dolphin-stained, are thine;

The silvery depths and blue, moon-orbed, entwine,

And in bright films thy rosy form embrace,—

Girdling thy loins with heaven-spun drapery

Wove in the looms of thy resplendent sea.

The columns point their shadows to the plain

And ancient days are dialed o’er again;

The floods remember: falling at thy feet,

Upon the sands of time they ever beat.

17

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