And rustling trees shed snowy petals,
And tender young flowers gaze on me
With their bright fragrant eyes,
And the air is full of laughter and gladness,
And rich with the breath of blossoms,
And in the blue sky the birds are singing--
Thalatta! Thalatta!

Oh, my brave Anabasis-heart!
How often, ah! how sadly often
Wast thou pressed hard by the North's fair Barbarians!
From large and conquering eyes
They shot forth burning arrows;
With crooked words as sharp as a rapier
They threatened to pierce my bosom;
With cuneiform angular missives they battered
My poor stunned brains;
In vain I held out my shield for protection,
The arrows hissed and the blows rained down,
And hard pressed I was pushed to the sea
By the North's fair Barbarians--
And, breathing freely, I greet the sea,
The sea my deliverer, the sea my friend--
Thalatta! Thalatta!

[Illustration: PLAY OF THE WAVES _From the Painting by Arnold Böcklin_]

* * * * *

IN THE HARBOR[38] (1825-26)