The old Silenus deg. deg.261
Came, lolling in the sunshine,
From the dewy forest-coverts,
This way, at noon. 
Sitting by me, while his Fauns 265
Down at the water-side
Sprinkled and smoothed
His drooping garland,
He told me these things.

But I, Ulysses, 270
Sitting on the warm steps,
Looking over the valley,
All day long, have seen,
Without pain, without labour,
Sometimes a wild-hair’d Maenad deg.—­ deg.275
Sometimes a Faun with torches deg.—­ deg.276
And sometimes, for a moment,
Passing through the dark stems
Flowing-robed, the beloved,
The desired, the divine, 280
Beloved Iacchus.

Ah, cool night-wind, tremulous stars! 
Ah, glimmering water,
Fitful earth-murmur,
Dreaming woods! 285
Ah, golden-hair’d, strangely smiling Goddess,
And thou, proved, much enduring,
Wave-toss’d Wanderer! 
Who can stand still? 
Ye fade, ye swim, ye waver before me—­ 290
The cup again!

Faster, faster,
O Circe, Goddess,
Let the wild, thronging train,
The bright procession 295
Of eddying forms,
Sweep through my soul!

MORALITY

We cannot kindle when we will
The fire which in the heart resides,
The spirit bloweth and is still,
In mystery our soul abides. 
  But tasks in hours of insight will’d 5
  Can be through hours of gloom fulfill’d.

With aching hands and bleeding feet
We dig and heap, lay stone on stone;
We bear the burden and the heat
Of the long day, and wish ’twere done. 10
  Not till the hours of light return,
  All we have built do we discern.

Then, when the clouds are off the soul,
When thou dost bask in Nature’s eye,
Ask, how she view’d thy self-control, 15
Thy struggling, task’d morality—­
  Nature, whose free, light, cheerful air. 
  Oft made thee, in thy gloom, despair.

And she, whose censure thou dost dread,
Whose eye thou wast afraid to seek, 20
See, on her face a glow is spread,
A strong emotion on her cheek! 
  “Ah, child!” she cries, “that strife divine,
  Whence was it, for it is not mine?

“There is no effort on my brow—­ 25
I do not strive, I do not weep;
I rush with the swift spheres and glow
In joy, and when I will, I sleep. 
  Yet that severe, that earnest air,
  I saw, I felt it once—­but where? 30