Delfica

Do you know it, Dafne, that ancient romance,

At the foot of the sycamore, or beneath white laurels,

Beneath the olive, myrtle, or quavering willows,

That song of love which always recommences?...

Know you the Temple with peristyle immense,

And the bitter lemons your teeth have furrowed,

And the grotto, fatal to imprudent callers,

Where sleeps the antique seed of the dragon vanquished?...

They’ll be back, those Gods you beweep always!

Time will recall the order of ancient days;

The earth has shaken with a breath prophetic...

And still the sibyl with a Latin face

Beneath the arch of Constantine not wakes,

—And nothing has disturbed its severe portico.

Gérard de Nerval