No colder local records did I crave, Two lovers' names were all my Hellespont; How oft, methought, the swimming youth was wont To kiss the waters, where the lighted wave Came trembling out from Sestos! When the gale Dimmed his fond eyes, and chilled each supple limb, I broke my heart for both, without avail, I wept with her! I sobbed and sank with him! And if, at times, the historic muse would fill The strait with forms more secular and vast, The torch of Hero lived behind them still! And wide-spread sails of war ran glowing past Love's watch-fire, till, again, th' impassioned light Burst on the lonely swimmer, doubly bright. |