Antinous
Stretched on a sunny bank he lay at rest,Ferns at his elbow, lilies round his knees,With sweet flesh patterned where the cool turf pressed,Flowerlike crept o’er with emerald aphides.Single he couched there, to his circling flocksPiping at times some happy shepherd’s tune,Nude, with the warm wind in his golden locks,And arched with the blue Asian afternoon.Past him, gorse-purpled, to the distant coastRolled the clear foothills. There his white-walled town,There, a blue band, the placid Euxine lay.Beyond, on fields of azure light embossedHe watched from noon till dewy eve came downThe summer clouds pile up and fade away.