Venus Urania

Is this thy Paphos,—the devoted place Where rests, in its own eventide, thy shrine? To thee not lone is solitude divine Where love-dreams o’er thy waves each other chase And melt into the passion of thy face! The twilight waters, dolphin-stained, are thine; The silvery depths and blue, moon-orbed, entwine, And in bright films thy rosy form embrace,— Girdling thy loins with heaven-spun drapery Wove in the looms of thy resplendent sea. The columns point their shadows to the plain And ancient days are dialed o’er again; The floods remember: falling at thy feet, Upon the sands of time they ever beat.