And who was he that rested there,--
This Hercules, so huge, so rare,
This giant of a grander day,
This Theseus of a nobler Greece,
This Jason of the golden fleece?
And who was he? And who were they
That came to seek the hidden gold
Long hallowed from the pirate's hold?
I do not know. You need not care.
. . . . . .
They loved, this maiden and this man,
And that is all I surely know,--
The rest is as the winds that blow.
He bowed as brave men bow to fate,
Yet proud and resolute and bold;
She, coy at first, and mute and cold,
Held back and seemed to hesitate,--
Half frightened at this love that ran
Hard gallop till her hot heart beat
Like sounding of swift courser's feet.