O SINGER of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee Where Amaryllis lies in state; O Singer of Persephone!
Simætha calls on Hecate And hears the wild dogs at the gate; Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate; O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry Young Daphnis challenges his mate; Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee, For thee the jocund shepherds wait; O Singer of Persephone! Dost thou remember Sicily?
IN THE GOLD ROOM