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Had lost his way between the piney sides Of this long glen. Then to the bower they came,
Naked they came to that smoothswarded bower,
And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,
Violet, amaracus, and asphodel, Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose, And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,
This way and that, in many a wild festoon
Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs
With bunch and berry and flower through and through.
"O mother Ida, harken ere I die. On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit, And o'er him flowed a golden cloud, and leaned
Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew.
Then first I heard the voice of her, to whom Coming through Heaven, like a light that grows Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made
Proffer of royal power, ample rule Unquestioned, overflowing revenue Wherewith to embellish state, from many a vale
river-sundered clothed with corn, Or labored mines undrainable of ore. Honor,' she said, and homage, tax and toll,
From many an inland town and haven large, Mast-thronged beneath her shadow
In glassy bays among her tallest towers.'
"O mother Ida, harken ere I die. Still she spake on and still she spake of power,
"Which in all action is the end of all; Power fitted to the season; wisdombred
And throned of wisdom - from all neighbor crowns Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand