None will the fields now till; soft wax all necks the oxen,Never the humble vine is purged by curve of the rake-tooth,Never a pruner's hook thins out the shade of the tree-tufts,Never a bull up-plows broad glebe with bend of the coulter,Over whose point unuse displays the squalor of rust-stain.But in the homestead's heart, where'er that opulent palaceHides a retreat, all shines with splendour of gold and of silver.Ivory blanches the seats, bright gleam the flagons a-table,All of the mansion joys in royal riches and grandeur.But for the Diva's use bestrewn is the genial bedstead,Hidden in midmost stead, and its polisht framework of IndianTusk underlies its cloth empurpled by juice of the dye-shell.This be a figured cloth with forms of manhood primevalShowing by marvel-art the gifts and graces of heroes.Here upon Dia's strand wave-resonant, ever-regardingTheseus borne from sight outside by fleet of the fleetest,Stands Ariadne with heart full-filled with furies unbated,Nor can her sense as yet believe she 'spies the espied,When like one that awakes new roused from slumber deceptive,Sees she her hapless self lone left on loneliest sandbank:While as the mindless youth with oars disturbeth the shallows,Casts to the windy storms what vows he vainly had vowed.Him through the sedges afar the sad-eyed maiden of Minos,Likest a Bacchant-girl stone-carven, (O her sorrow!)'Spies, a-tossing the while on sorest billows of love-care.Now no more on her blood-hued hair fine fillets retains she,No more now light veil conceals her bosom erst hidden,Now no more smooth zone contains her milky-hued paplets:All gear dropping adown from every part of her personThrown, lie fronting her feet to the briny wavelets a sea-toy.But at such now no more of her veil or her fillet a-floatingHad she regard: on you, Theseus! all of her heart-strength,All of her sprite, her mind, forlorn, were evermore hanging.Ah, sad soul, by grief and grievance driven beside you,Sowed Erycina first those brambly cares in thy bosom,What while issuing fierce with will enstarkened, TheseusForth from the bow-bent shore Piraean putting a-seawardsReacht the Gortynian roofs where dwelt the injurious Monarch.For 'twas told of yore how forced by pestilence cruel,Eke as a blood rite due for the Androgeonian murder,Many a chosen youth and the bloom of damsels unmarriedFood for the Minotaur, Cecropia was wont to befurnish.Seeing his narrow walls in such wise vexed with evils,Theseus of freest will for dear-loved Athens his bodyOffered a victim so that no more to Crete be deportedLives by Cecropia doomed to burials burying nowise;Then with a swifty ship and soft breathed breezes a-stirring,Sought he Minos the Haughty where homed in proudest of Mansions.Him as with yearning glance forthright espied the royalMaiden, whom pure chaste couch aspiring delicate odoursCherisht, in soft embrace of a mother comforted all-whiles,(E'en as the myrtles begot by the flowing floods of Eurotas,Or as the tincts distinct brought forth by breath of the springtide)