has spared no other painted face in all the world but hers.

Delilah was younger than she, and Delilah is dust.

Time hath loved nothing but this worthless painted face.

I do not care that she is ugly, nor that she has painted her face, so
that she only lure his secret from Time.

Time dallies like a fool at her feet when he should be smiting cities.

Time never wearies of her silly smile.

There are temples all about her that he has forgotten to spoil.

I saw an old man go by and Time never touched him.

Time that has carried away the seven gates of Thebes!

She has tried to bind him with ropes of eternal sand, she had hoped to
oppress him with the Pyramids.

He lies there in the sun with his foolish hair all spread about her
paws.

If she ever learns his secret we will put out his eyes, so that he
shall find no more our beautiful things--there are lovely gates in
Florence that I fear he will carry away.

We have tried to bind him with song and with old customs, but they
only held him for a little while, and he has always smitten us and
mocked us.

When he is blind he shall dance to us and make sport.

Great clumsy Time shall stumble and dance, who liked to kill little
children and can hurt even the daisies no longer.

Then shall our children laugh at him who slew Babylon's winged bulls
and smote great numbers of the elves and fairies, when he is shorn of
his hours and his years.

We will shut him up in the Pyramid of Cheops, in the great chamber
where the sarcophagus is. Thence we will lead him out when we give our
feasts. He shall ripen our corn for us and do menial work.

We will kiss thy painted face, O Sphinx, if thou wilt betray to us
Time.

And yet I fear that in his ultimate anguish he may take hold blindly
of the world and the moon and slowly pull down upon him the House of
Man.

IDLE DAYS ON THE YANN

So I came down through the wood to the bank of Yann and found, as
had been prophesied, the ship _Bird of the River_ about to loose her
cable.

The captain sate cross-legged upon the white deck with his scimitar
lying beside him in its jewelled scabbard, and the sailors toiled to
spread the nimble sails to bring the ship into the central stream of
Yann, and all the while sang ancient soothing songs. And the wind of
the evening descending cool from the snowfields of some mountainous
abode of distant gods came suddenly, like glad tidings to an anxious
city, into the wing-like sa