Classic Poem

Closed in the fine-wrought chest,
She felt the rising wind the waters move.
Then by new fear possest
With action wild
And cheeks bedewed, she stretcht her arms of love
Toward Perseus: " O my child,
What sorrow wrings my breast! While thou art sunk so deep
In infancy's calm sleep;
Launcht in this joyless ark,
Bronze-fastened, glimmering dark,
Yet, pillowed on thy tangled hair,
Thou slumberest, nor dost care
For billows past thee bounding,
Nor breezes shrilly sounding.
Laid in thy mantle red, sweet face, how fair!
Ah! but if fear
Had aught of fear for thee,
Thou even to me
Wouldst turn thy tender ear.
But now I bid thee rest, my babe; sleep still!
Rest, O thou sea! Rest, rest, unbounded ill!
Zeus, Father, some relief, some change from thee!
Am I too bold? For his sake, pardon me! "