Classic Poem

Cleo . Charmian!
Char . Madam?
Cleo . Give me to drink mandragora!
Antony and Cleopatra .

I N time when water-lilies shake
Their green and gold on river and lake,
When the cuckoo calls in the heart o' the heat,
When the Dog-star foams and the shade is sweet;
Where cool and fresh the River ran,
I sat by the side of Charmian,
And heard no sound from the world of man.

All was so sweet and still that day!
The rusting shade, the rippling stream,
All life, all breath, dissolved away
Into a golden dream;
Warm and sweet the scented shade
Drowsily caught the breeze and stirred,
Faint and low through the green glade
Came hum of bee and song of bird.
Our hearts were full of drowsy bliss,
And yet we did not clasp nor kiss,
Nor did we break the happy spell
With tender tone or syllable.
But to ease our hearts and set thought free,
We pluckt the flowers of a red rose-tree,
And leaf by leaf, we threw them, Sweet,
Into the River at our feet,
And in an indolent delight
Watch'd them glide onward, out of sight.

Sweet, had I spoken boldly then,
How might my love have garner'd thee!
But I had left the paths of men.
And sitting yonder, dreamily,
Was happiness enough for me!
Seeking no gift of word or kiss,
But looking in thy face, was bliss!
Plucking the rose-leaves in a dream,
Watching them glimmer down the stream,
Knowing that eastern heart of thine
Shared the dim ecstasy of mine!

Then, while we linger'd, cold and gray
Came Twilight, chilling soul and sense;
And you arose to go away,
Full of a sweet indifference!
I missed the spell — I watch'd it break, —
And such come never twice to man:
In a less golden hour I spake,
And did not win thee, Charmian!

For wearily we turned away
Into the world of everyday,
And from thy heart the fancy fled
Like the rose-leaves on the River shed;
But to me that hour is sweeter far
Than the world and all its treasures are:
Still to sit on so close to thee,
Were happiness enough for me!
Still to sit on in a green nook,
Nor break the spell by word or look!
To reach out happy hands for ever,
To pluck the rose-leaves, Charmian!
To watch them fade on the gleaming River,
And hear no sound from the world of man!