THE VALLEY OF THE FLEECE
A WINDLESS eve in a quiet coomb ;
Rock-roseyellow and golden broom.
Sandmartins wheel aloft
Watching day's goblet quaffed
By the priestess, Venus-adorned, rising from eastern tomb.
A dream-laden wind from the sky escorts
The starry ships of the Argonauts.
Sandmartinstirs in the hole ;
Peeps out one guardian troll—
" Will they carry our golden fleece back to the day-break ports?"
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