Daughters are we,
She that was born
Of the morn
And the sea;
White are our limbs
As the foam on the wave,
Wild are our hymns
And our lovers are brave!

Queen Aphrodite,
Born of the sea,
Beautiful dutiful daughters
Are we!

You who would follow,
Fear not to come,
For love is for love
As dove is for dove;
The harp of Apollo
Shall lull you to rest,
And your head find its home
On this beautiful breast.

Queen Aphrodite,
Born of the sea,
Beautiful dutiful daughters
Are we!

Born of the Ocean,
Wave-like are we!
Rising and falling
Like waves of the sea;
Changing for ever,
Yet ever the same,
Music in motion
And marble in flame.

Queen Aphrodite,
Born of the sea,
Beautiful dutiful daughters
Are we!

When I alighted once more upon the earth from the heaven of this song,
who should I find seated within a table of me but the very couple I was
at the moment so unexpectedly interested in? But they were far too
absorbed in each other to notice me, and consequently I was able to
hear all of importance that was said. I regret that I cannot gratify
the reader with a report of their conversation, for the excuse I had
for listening was one that is not transferable. A woman's happiness
was at stake. No other consideration could have persuaded me to means
so mean save an end so noble. I didn't even tell Rosalind all I heard.
Mercifully for her, the candour of fools is not among my superstitions.
Suffice it for all third persons to know--what Rosalind indeed has
never known, and what I hope no reader will be fool enough to tell
her--that Orlando was for the moment hopelessly and besottedly
faithless to his wife, and that my services had been bespoken in the
very narrowest nick of time.

Having, as the reader has long known, a warm personal interest in his
attractive companion, and desiring, therefore, to think as well of her
as possible, I was pleased to deduce, negatively, from their
conversation, that Sylvia Joy knew nothing of Rosalind, and believed
Orlando to be a free, that is, an unmarried man. From the point of
view, therefore, of her code, there was no earthly reason why she
should not fall in with Orlando's proposal that they should leave for
Paris by the "Mayflower" on the following morning. Orlando, I could
hear, wishe