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diff --git a/old/rdlif10h.htm b/old/rdlif10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f33eed5 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rdlif10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1692 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>A Reading of Life, and Other Poems</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">A Reading of Life, and Other Poems, by George Meredith</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Reading of Life, and Other Poems +by George Meredith + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: A Reading of Life, and Other Poems + +Author: George Meredith + +Release Date: September, 1997 [EBook #1042] +[This file was first posted on September 25, 1997] +[Most recently updated: June 24, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII +</pre> +<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> +<p>Scanned and proofed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h1>A Reading Of Life</h1> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>Contents:</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> +<p>A Reading of Life—The Vital Choice<br />A Reading of Life—With +The Huntress<br />A Reading of Life—With The Persuader<br />A +Reading of Life—The Test of Manhood<br />The Cageing of Ares<br />The +Night-Walk<br />The Hueless Love<br />Song In The Songless<br />Union +In Disseverance<br />The Burden of Strength<br />The Main Regret<br />Alternation<br />Hawarden<br />At +the Close<br />Forest History<br />A Garden Idyl<br />Foresight And +Patience<br />The Invective of Achilles<br />The Invective of Achilles—V. +225<br />Marshalling of the Achaians<br />Agamemnon in the Fight<br />Paris +and Diomedes<br />Hypnos on Ida<br />Clash in Arms of the Achaians And +Trojans<br />The Horses of Achilles<br />The Mares of the Camargue</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: A Reading of Life—The Vital Choice</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>I.</p> +<p>Or shall we run with Artemis<br />Or yield the breast to Aphrodite?<br />Both +are mighty;<br />Both give bliss;<br />Each can torture if divided;<br />Each +claims worship undivided,<br />In her wake would have us wallow.</p> +<p>II.</p> +<p>Youth must offer on bent knees<br />Homage unto one or other;<br />Earth, +the mother,<br />This decrees;<br />And unto the pallid Scyther<br />Either +points us shun we either<br />Shun or too devoutly follow.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: A Reading of Life—With The Huntress</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Through the water-eye of night,<br />Midway between eve and dawn,<br />See +the chase, the rout, the flight<br />In deep forest; oread, faun,<br />Goat-foot, +antlers laid on neck;<br />Ravenous all the line for speed.<br />See +yon wavy sparkle beck<br />Sign of the Virgin Lady’s lead.<br />Down +her course a serpent star<br />Coils and shatters at her heels;<br />Peals +the horn exulting, peals<br />Plaintive, is it near or far.<br />Huntress, +arrowy to pursue,<br />In and out of woody glen,<br />Under cliffs that +tear the blue,<br />Over torrent, over fen,<br />She and forest, where +she skims<br />Feathery, darken and relume:<br />Those are her white-lightning +limbs<br />Cleaving loads of leafy gloom.<br />Mountains hear her and +call back,<br />Shrewd with night: a frosty wail<br />Distant: her the +emerald vale<br />Folds, and wonders in her track.<br />Now her retinue +is lean,<br />Many rearward; streams the chase<br />Eager forth of covert; +seen<br />One hot tide the rapturous race.<br />Quiver-charged and crescent-crowned,<br />Up +on a flash the lighted mound<br />Leaps she, bow to shoulder, shaft<br />Strung +to barb with archer’s craft,<br />Legs like plaited lyre-chords, +feet<br />Songs to see, past pitch of sweet.<br />Fearful swiftness +they outrun,<br />Shaggy wildness, grey or dun,<br />Challenge, charge +of tusks elude:<br />Theirs the dance to tame the rude;<br />Beast, +and beast in manhood tame,<br />Follow we their silver flame.<br />Pride +of flesh from bondage free,<br />Reaping vigour of its waste,<br />Marks +her servitors, and she<br />Sanctifies the unembraced.<br />Nought of +perilous she reeks;<br />Valour clothes her open breast;<br />Sweet +beyond the thrill of sex;<br />Hallowed by the sex confessed.<br />Huntress +arrowy to pursue,<br />Colder she than sunless dew,<br />She, that breath +of upper air;<br />Ay, but never lyrist sang,<br />Draught of Bacchus +never sprang<br />Blood the bliss of Gods to share,<br />High o’er +sweep of eagle wings,<br />Like the run with her, when rings<br />Clear +her rally, and her dart,<br />In the forest’s cavern heart,<br />Tells +of her victorious aim.<br />Then is pause and chatter, cheer,<br />Laughter +at some satyr lame,<br />Looks upon the fallen deer,<br />Measuring +his noble crest;<br />Here a favourite in her train,<br />Foremost mid +her nymphs, caressed;<br />All applauded. Shall she reign<br />Worshipped? +O to be with her there!<br />She, that breath of nimble air,<br />Lifts +the breast to giant power.<br />Maid and man, and man and maid,<br />Who +each other would devour<br />Elsewhere, by the chase betrayed,<br />There +are comrades, led by her,<br />Maid-preserver, man-maker.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: A Reading of Life—With The Persuader</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Who murmurs, hither, hither: who<br />Where nought is audible so +fills the ear?<br />Where nought is visible can make appear<br />A veil +with eyes that waver through,<br />Like twilight’s pledge of blessed +night to come,<br />Or day most golden? All unseen and dumb,<br />She +breathes, she moves, inviting flees,<br />Is lost, and leaves the thrilled +desire<br />To clasp and strike a slackened lyre,<br />Till over smiles +of hyacinth seas,<br />Flame in a crystal vessel sails<br />Beneath +a dome of jewelled spray,<br />For land that drops the rosy day<br />On +nights of throbbing nightingales.</p> +<p>Landward did the wonder flit,<br />Or heart’s desire of her, +all earth in it.<br />We saw the heavens fling down their rose;<br />On +rapturous waves we saw her glide;<br />The pearly sea-shell half enclose;<br />The +shoal of sea-nymphs flush the tide;<br />And we, afire to kiss her feet, +no more<br />Behold than tracks along a startled shore,<br />With brightened +edges of dark leaves that feign<br />An ambush hoped, as heartless night +remain.</p> +<p>More closely, warmly: hither, hither! she,<br />The very she called +forth by ripened blood<br />For its next breath of being, murmurs; she,<br />Allurement; +she, fulfilment; she,<br />The stream within us urged to flood;<br />Man’s +cry, earth’s answer, heaven’s consent; O she,<br />Maid, +woman and divinity;<br />Our over-earthly, inner-earthly mate<br />Unmated; +she, our hunger and our fruit<br />Untasted; she our written fate<br />Unread; +Life’s flowering, Life’s root:<br />Unread, divined; unseen, +beheld;<br />The evanescent, ever-present she,<br />Great Nature’s +stern necessity<br />In radiance clothed, to softness quelled;<br />With +a sword’s edge of sweetness keen to take<br />Our breath for bliss, +our hearts for fulness break.</p> +<p>The murmur hushes down, the veil is rent.<br />Man’s cry, earth’s +answer, heaven’s consent,<br />Her form is given to pardoned sight,<br />And +lets our mortal eyes receive<br />The sovereign loveliness of celestial +white;<br />Adored by them who solitarily pace,<br />In dusk of the +underworld’s perpetual eve,<br />The paths among the meadow asphodel,<br />Remembering. +Never there her face<br />Is planetary; reddens to shore sea-shell<br />Around +such whiteness the enamoured air<br />Of noon that clothes her, never +there.<br />Daughter of light, the joyful light,<br />She stands unveiled +to nuptial sight,<br />Sweet in her disregard of aid<br />Divine to +conquer or persuade.<br />A fountain jets from moss; a flower<br />Bends +gently where her sunset tresses shower.<br />By guerdon of her brilliance +may be seen<br />With eyelids unabashed the passion’s Queen.</p> +<p>Shorn of attendant Graces she can use<br />Her natural snares to +make her will supreme.<br />A simple nymph it is, inclined to muse<br />Before +the leader foot shall dip in stream:<br />One arm at curve along a rounded +thigh;<br />Her firm new breasts each pointing its own way<br />A knee +half bent to shade its fellow shy,<br />Where innocence, not nature, +signals nay.<br />The bud of fresh virginity awaits<br />The wooer, +and all roseate will she burst:<br />She touches on the hour of happy +mates;<br />Still is she unaware she wakens thirst.</p> +<p>And while commanding blissful sight believe<br />It holds her as +a body strained to breast,<br />Down on the underworld’s perpetual +eve<br />She plunges the possessor dispossessed;<br />And bids believe +that image, heaving warm,<br />Is lost to float like torch-smoke after +flame;<br />The phantom any breeze blows out of form;<br />A thirst’s +delusion, a defeated aim.</p> +<p>The rapture shed the torture weaves;<br />The direst blow on human +heart she deals:<br />The pain to know the seen deceives;<br />Nought +true but what insufferably feels.<br />And stabs of her delicious note,<br />That +is as heavenly light to hearing, heard<br />Through shelter leaves, +the laughter from her throat,<br />We answer as the midnight’s +morning’s bird.</p> +<p>She laughs, she wakens gleeful cries;<br />In her delicious laughter +part revealed;<br />Yet mother is she more of moans and sighs,<br />For +longings unappeased and wounds unhealed.<br />Yet would she bless, it +is her task to bless:<br />Yon folded couples, passing under shade,<br />Are +her rich harvest; bidden caress, caress,<br />Consume the fruit in bloom; +not disobeyed.<br />We dolorous complainers had a dream,<br />Wrought +on the vacant air from inner fire,<br />We saw stand bare of her celestial +beam<br />The glorious Goddess, and we dared desire.</p> +<p>Thereat are shown reproachful eyes, and lips<br />Of upward curl +to meanings half obscure;<br />And glancing where a wood-nymph lightly +skips<br />She nods: at once that creature wears her lure.<br />Blush +of our being between birth and death:<br />Sob of our ripened blood +for its next breath:<br />Her wily semblance nought of her denies;<br />Seems +it the Goddess runs, the Goddess hies,<br />The generous Goddess yields. +And she can arm<br />Her dwarfed and twisted with her secret charm;<br />Benevolent +as Earth to feed her own.<br />Fully shall they be fed, if they beseech.<br />But +scorn she has for them that walk alone;<br />Blanched men, starved women, +whom no arts can pleach.<br />The men as chief of criminals she disdains,<br />And +holds the reason in perceptive thought.<br />More pitiable, like rivers +lacking rains,<br />Kissing cold stones, the women shrink for drought.<br />Those +faceless discords, out of nature strayed,<br />Rank of the putrefaction +ere decayed,<br />In impious singles bear the thorny wreaths:<br />Their +lives are where harmonious Pleasure breathes<br />For couples crowned +with flowers that burn in dew.<br />Comes there a tremor of night’s +forest horn<br />Across her garden from the insaner crew,<br />She darkens +to malignity of scorn.<br />A shiver courses through her garden-grounds:<br />Grunt +of the tusky boar, the baying hounds,<br />The hunter’s shouts, +are heard afar, and bring<br />Dead on her heart her crimsoned flower +of Spring.<br />These, the irreverent of Life’s design,<br />Division +between natural and divine<br />Would cast; these vaunting barrenness +for best,<br />In veins of gathered strength Life’s tide arrest;<br />And +these because the roses flood their cheeks,<br />Vow them in nature +wise as when Love speaks.<br />With them is war; and well the Goddess +knows<br />What undermines the race who mount the rose;<br />How the +ripe moment, lodged in slumberous hours,<br />Enkindled by persuasion +overpowers:<br />Why weak as are her frailer trailing weeds,<br />The +strong when Beauty gleams o’er Nature’s needs,<br />And +timely guile unguarded finds them lie.<br />They who her sway withstand +a sea defy,<br />At every point of juncture must be proof;<br />Nor +look for mercy from the incessant surge<br />Her forces mixed of craft +and passion urge<br />For the one whelming wave to spring aloof.<br />She, +tenderness, is pitiless to them<br />Resisting in her godhead nature’s +truth.<br />No flower their face shall be, but writhen stem;<br />Their +youth a frost, their age the dirge for youth.<br />These miserably disinclined,<br />The +lamentably unembraced,<br />Insult the Pleasures Earth designed<br />To +people and beflower the waste.<br />Wherefore the Pleasures pass them +by:<br />For death they live, in life they die.</p> +<p>Her head the Goddess from them turns,<br />As from grey mounds of +ashes in bronze urns.<br />She views her quivering couples unconsoled,<br />And +of her beauty mirror they become,<br />Like orchard blossoms, apple, +pear and plum,<br />Free of the cloud, beneath the flood of gold.<br />Crowned +with wreaths that burn in dew,<br />Her couples whirl, sun-satiated,<br />Athirst +for shade, they sigh, they wed,<br />They play the music made of two:<br />Oldest +of earth, earth’s youngest till earth’s end:<br />Cunninger +than the numbered strings,<br />For melodies, for harmonies,<br />For +mastered discords, and the things<br />Not vocable, whose mysteries<br />Are +inmost Love’s, Life’s reach of Life extend.</p> +<p>Is it an anguish overflowing shame<br />And the tongue’s pudency +confides to her,<br />With eyes of embers, breath of incense myrrh,<br />The +woman’s marrow in some dear youth’s name,<br />Then is the +Goddess tenderness<br />Maternal, and she has a sister’s tones<br />Benign +to soothe intemperate distress,<br />Divide despair from hope, and sighs +from moans.<br />Her gentleness imparts exhaling ease<br />To those +of her milk-bearer votaries<br />As warm of bosom-earth as she; of the +source<br />Direct; erratic but in heart’s excess;<br />Being +mortal and ill-matched for Love’s great force;<br />Like green +leaves caught with flames by his impress.<br />And pray they under skies +less overcast,<br />That swiftly may her star of eve descend,<br />Her +lustrous morning star fly not too fast,<br />To lengthen blissful night +will she befriend.</p> +<p>Unfailing her reply to woman’s voice<br />In supplication instant. +Is it man’s,<br />She hears, approves his words, her garden scans,<br />And +him: the flowers are various, he has choice.<br />Perchance his wound +is deep; she listens long;<br />Enjoys what music fills the plaintive +song;<br />And marks how he, who would be hawk at poise<br />Above the +bird, his plaintive song enjoys.</p> +<p>She reads him when his humbled manhood weeps<br />To her invoked: +distraction is implored.<br />A smile, and he is up on godlike leaps<br />Above, +with his bright Goddess owned the adored.<br />His tales of her declare +she condescends;<br />Can share his fires, not always goads and rends:<br />Moreover, +quits a throne, and must enclose<br />A queenlier gem than woman’s +wayside rose.<br />She bends, he quickens; she breathes low, he springs<br />Enraptured; +low she laughs, his woes disperse;<br />Aloud she laughs and sweeps +his varied strings.<br />’Tis taught him how for touch of mournful +verse<br />Rarely the music made of two ascends,<br />And Beauty’s +Queen some other way is won.<br />Or it may solve the riddle, that she +lends<br />Herself to all, and yields herself to none,<br />Save heavenliest: +though claims by men are raised<br />In hot assurance under shade of +doubt:<br />And numerous are the images bepraised<br />As Beauty’s +Queen, should passion head the rout.</p> +<p>Be sure the ruddy hue is Love’s: to woo<br />Love’s Fountain +we must mount the ruddy hue.<br />That is her garden’s precept, +seen where shines<br />Her blood-flower, and its unsought neighbour +pines.<br />Daughter of light, the joyful light,<br />She bids her couples +face full East,<br />Reflecting radiance, even when from her feast<br />Their +outstretched arms brown deserts disunite,<br />The lion-haunted thickets +hold apart.<br />In love the ruddy hue declares great heart;<br />High +confidence in her whose aid is lent<br />To lovers lifting the tuned +instrument,<br />Not one of rippled strings and funeral tone.<br />And +doth the man pursue a tightened zone,<br />Then be it as the Laurel +God he runs,<br />Confirmed to win, with countenance the Sun’s.</p> +<p>Should pity bless the tremulous voice of woe<br />He lifts for pity, +limp his offspring show.<br />For him requiring woman’s arts to +please<br />Infantile tastes with babe reluctances,<br />No race of +giants! In the woman’s veins<br />Persuasion ripely runs, +through hers the pains.<br />Her choice of him, should kind occasion +nod,<br />Aspiring blends the Titan with the God;<br />Yet unto dwarf +and mortal, she, submiss<br />In her high Lady’s mandate, yields +the kiss;<br />And is it needed that Love’s daintier brute<br />Be +snared as hunter, she will tempt pursuit.<br />She is great Nature’s +ever intimate<br />In breast, and doth as ready handmaid wait,<br />Until +perverted by her senseless male,<br />She plays the winding snake, the +shrinking snail,<br />The flying deer, all tricks of evil fame,<br />Elusive +to allure, since he grew tame.</p> +<p>Hence has the Goddess, Nature’s earliest Power,<br />And greatest +and most present, with her dower<br />Of the transcendent beauty, gained +repute<br />For meditated guile. She laughs to hear<br />A charge +her garden’s labyrinths scarce confute,<br />Her garden’s +histories tell of to all near.<br />Let it be said, But less upon her +guile<br />Doth she rely for her immortal smile.<br />Still let the +rumour spread, and terror screens<br />To push her conquests by the +simplest means.<br />While man abjures not lustihead, nor swerves<br />From +earth’s good labours, Beauty’s Queen he serves.</p> +<p>Her spacious garden and her garden’s grant<br />She offers +in reward for handsome cheer:<br />Choice of the nymphs whose looks +will slant<br />The secret down a dewy leer<br />Of corner eyelids into +haze:<br />Many a fair Aphrosyne<br />Like flower-bell to honey-bee:<br />And +here they flicker round the maze<br />Bewildering him in heart and head:<br />And +here they wear the close demure,<br />With subtle peeps to reassure:<br />Others +parade where love has bled,<br />And of its crimson weave their mesh:<br />Others +to snap of fingers leap,<br />As bearing breast with love asleep.<br />These +are her laughters in the flesh.<br />Or would she fit a warrior mood,<br />She +lights her seeming unsubdued,<br />And indicates the fortress-key.<br />Or +is it heart for heart that craves,<br />She flecks along a run of waves<br />The +one to promise deeper sea.</p> +<p>Bands of her limpid primitives,<br />Or patterned in the curious +braid,<br />Are the blest man’s; and whatsoever he gives,<br />For +what he gives is he repaid.<br />Good is it if by him ’tis held<br />He +wins the fairest ever welled<br />From Nature’s founts: she whispers +it: Even I<br />Not fairer! and forbids him to deny,<br />Else little +is he lover. Those he clasps,<br />Intent as tempest, worshipful +as prayer, -<br />And be they doves or be they asps, -<br />Must seem +to him the sovereignty fair;<br />Else counts he soon among life’s +wholly tamed.<br />Him whom from utter savage she reclaimed,<br />Half +savage must he stay, would he be crowned<br />The lover. Else, +past ripeness, deathward bound,<br />He reasons; and the totterer Earth +detests,<br />Love shuns, grim logic screws in grasp, is he.<br />Doth +man divide divine Necessity<br />From Joy, between the Queen of Beauty’s +breasts<br />A sword is driven; for those most glorious twain<br />Present +her; armed to bless and to constrain.<br />Of this he perishes; not +she, the throned<br />On rocks that spout their springs to the sacred +mounts.<br />A loftier Reason out of deeper founts<br />Earth’s +chosen Goddess bears: by none disowned<br />While red blood runs to +swell the pulse, she boasts,<br />And Beauty, like her star, descends +the sky;<br />Earth’s answer, heaven’s consent unto man’s +cry,<br />Uplifted by the innumerable hosts.</p> +<p>Quickened of Nature’s eye and ear,<br />When the wild sap at +high tide smites<br />Within us; or benignly clear<br />To vision; or +as the iris lights<br />On fluctuant waters; she is ours<br />Till set +of man: the dreamed, the seen;<br />Flushing the world with odorous +flowers:<br />A soft compulsion on terrene<br />By heavenly: and the +world is hers<br />While hunger after Beauty spurs.</p> +<p>So is it sung in any space<br />She fills, with laugh at shallow +laws<br />Forbidding love’s devised embrace,<br />The music Beauty +from it draws.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: A Reading of Life—The Test Of Manhood</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Like a flood river whirled at rocky banks,<br />An army issues out +of wilderness,<br />With battle plucking round its ragged flanks;<br />Obstruction +in the van; insane excess<br />Oft at the heart; yet hard the onward +stress<br />Unto more spacious, where move ordered ranks,<br />And rise +hushed temples built of shapely stone,<br />The work of hands not pledged +to grind or slay.<br />They gave our earth a dress of flesh on bone;<br />A +tongue to speak with answering heaven gave they.<br />Then was the gracious +birth of man’s new day;<br />Divided from the haunted night it +shone.</p> +<p>That quiet dawn was Reverence; whereof sprang<br />Ethereal Beauty +in full morningtide.<br />Another sun had risen to clasp his bride:<br />It +was another earth unto him sang.</p> +<p>Came Reverence from the Huntress on her heights?<br />From the Persuader +came it, in those vales<br />Whereunto she melodiously invites,<br />Her +troops of eager servitors regales?<br />Not far those two great Powers +of Nature speed<br />Disciple steps on earth when sole they lead;<br />Nor +either points for us the way of flame.<br />From him predestined mightier +it came;<br />His task to hold them both in breast, and yield<br />Their +dues to each, and of their war be field.</p> +<p>The foes that in repulsion never ceased,<br />Must he, who once has +been the goodly beast<br />Of one or other, at whose beck he ran,<br />Constrain +to make him serviceable man;<br />Offending neither, nor the natural +claim<br />Each pressed, denying, for his true man’s name.</p> +<p>Ah, what a sweat of anguish in that strife<br />To hold them fast +conjoined within him still;<br />Submissive to his will<br />Along the +road of life!<br />And marvel not he wavered if at whiles<br />The forward +step met frowns, the backward smiles.<br />For Pleasure witched him +her sweet cup to drain;<br />Repentance offered ecstasy in pain.<br />Delicious +licence called it Nature’s cry;<br />Ascetic rigours crushed the +fleshly sigh;<br />A tread on shingle timed his lame advance<br />Flung +as the die of Bacchanalian Chance,<br />He of the troubled marching +army leaned<br />On godhead visible, on godhead screened;<br />The radiant +roseate, the curtained white;<br />Yet sharp his battle strained through +day, through night.</p> +<p>He drank of fictions, till celestial aid<br />Might seem accorded +when he fawned and prayed;<br />Sagely the generous Giver circumspect,<br />To +choose for grants the egregious, his elect;<br />And ever that imagined +succour slew<br />The soul of brotherhood whence Reverence drew.</p> +<p>In fellowship religion has its founts:<br />The solitary his own +God reveres:<br />Ascend no sacred Mounts<br />Our hungers or our fears.<br />As +only for the numbers Nature’s care<br />Is shown, and she the +personal nothing heeds,<br />So to Divinity the spring of prayer<br />From +brotherhood the one way upward leads.<br />Like the sustaining air<br />Are +both for flowers and weeds.<br />But he who claims in spirit to be flower,<br />Will +find them both an air that doth devour.</p> +<p>Whereby he smelt his treason, who implored<br />External gifts bestowed +but on the sword;<br />Beheld himself, with less and less disguise,<br />Through +those blood-cataracts which dimmed his eyes,<br />His army’s foe, +condemned to strive and fail;<br />See a black adversary’s ghost +prevail;<br />Never, though triumphs hailed him, hope to win<br />While +still the conflict tore his breast within.</p> +<p>Out of that agony, misread for those<br />Imprisoned Powers warring +unappeased,<br />The ghost of his black adversary rose,<br />To smother +light, shut heaven, show earth diseased.<br />And long with him was +wrestling ere emerged<br />A mind to read in him the reflex shade<br />Of +its fierce torment; this way, that way urged;<br />By craven compromises +hourly swayed.</p> +<p>Crouched as a nestling, still its wings untried,<br />The man’s +mind opened under weight of cloud.<br />To penetrate the dark was it +endowed;<br />Stood day before a vision shooting wide.<br />Whereat +the spectral enemy lost form;<br />The traversed wilderness exposed +its track.<br />He felt the far advance in looking back;<br />Thence +trust in his foot forward through the storm.</p> +<p>Under the low-browed tempest’s eye of ire,<br />That ere it +lightened smote a coward heart,<br />Earth nerved her chastened son +to hail athwart<br />All ventures perilous his shrouded Sire;<br />A +stranger still, religiously divined;<br />Not yet with understanding +read aright.<br />But when the mind, the cherishable mind,<br />The +multitude’s grave shepherd, took full flight,<br />Himself as +mirror raised among his kind,<br />He saw, and first of brotherhood +had sight:<br />Knew that his force to fly, his will to see,<br />His +heart enlarged beyond its ribbed domain,<br />Had come of many a grip +in mastery,<br />Which held conjoined the hostile rival twain,<br />And +of his bosom made him lord, to keep<br />The starry roof of his unruffled +frame<br />Awake to earth, to heaven, and plumb the deep<br />Below, +above, aye with a wistful aim.</p> +<p>The mastering mind in him, by tempests blown,<br />By traitor inmates +baited, upward burned;<br />Perforce of growth, the Master mind discerned,<br />The +Great Unseen, nowise the Dark Unknown.<br />To whom unwittingly did +he aspire<br />In wilderness, where bitter was his need:<br />To whom +in blindness, as an earthy seed<br />For light and air, he struck through +crimson mire.<br />But not ere he upheld a forehead lamp,<br />And viewed +an army, once the seeming doomed,<br />All choral in its fruitful garden +camp,<br />The spiritual the palpable illumed.</p> +<p>This gift of penetration and embrace,<br />His prize from tidal battles +lost or won,<br />Reveals the scheme to animate his race:<br />How that +it is a warfare but begun;<br />Unending; with no Power to interpose;<br />No +prayer, save for strength to keep his ground,<br />Heard of the Highest; +never battle’s close,<br />The victory complete and victor crowned:<br />Nor +solace in defeat, save from that sense<br />Of strength well spent, +which is the strength renewed.<br />In manhood must he find his competence;<br />In +his clear mind the spiritual food:<br />God being there while he his +fight maintains;<br />Throughout his mind the Master Mind being there,<br />While +he rejects the suicide despair;<br />Accepts the spur of explicable +pains;<br />Obedient to Nature, not her slave:<br />Her lord, if to +her rigid laws he bows;<br />Her dust, if with his conscience he plays +knave,<br />And bids the Passions on the Pleasures browse:-<br />Whence +Evil in a world unread before;<br />That mystery to simple springs resolved.<br />His +God the Known, diviner to adore,<br />Shows Nature’s savage riddles +kindly solved.<br />Inconscient, insensitive, she reigns<br />In iron +laws, though rapturous fair her face.<br />Back to the primal brute +shall he retrace<br />His path, doth he permit to force her chains<br />A +soft Persuader coursing through his veins,<br />An icy Huntress stringing +to the chase:<br />What one the flash disdains;<br />What one so gives +it grace.</p> +<p>But is he rightly manful in her eyes,<br />A splendid bloodless knight +to gain the skies,<br />A blood-hot son of Earth by all her signs,<br />Desireing +and desireable he shines;<br />As peaches, that have caught the sun’s +uprise<br />And kissed warm gold till noonday, even as vines.<br />Earth +fills him with her juices, without fear<br />That she will cast him +drunken down the steeps.<br />All woman is she to this man most dear;<br />He +sows for bread, and she in spirit reaps:<br />She conscient, she sensitive, +in him;<br />With him enwound, his brave ambition hers:<br />By him +humaner made; by his keen spurs<br />Pricked to race past the pride +in giant limb,<br />Her crazy adoration of big thews,<br />Proud in +her primal sons, when crags they hurled,<br />Were thunder spitting +lightnings on the world<br />In daily deeds, and she their evening Muse.</p> +<p>This man, this hero, works not to destroy;<br />This godlike—as +the rock in ocean stands; -<br />He of the myriad eyes, the myriad hands<br />Creative; +in his edifice has joy.<br />How strength may serve for purity is shown<br />When +he himself can scourge to make it clean.<br />Withal his pitch of pride +would not disown<br />A sober world that walks the balanced mean<br />Between +its tempters, rarely overthrown:<br />And such at times his army’s +march has been.</p> +<p>Near is he to great Nature in the thought<br />Each changing Season +intimately saith,<br />That nought save apparition knows the death;<br />To +the God-lighted mind of man ’tis nought.<br />She counts not loss +a word of any weight;<br />It may befal his passions and his greeds<br />To +lose their treasures, like the vein that bleeds,<br />But life gone +breathless will she reinstate.</p> +<p>Close on the heart of Earth his bosom beats,<br />When he the mandate +lodged in it obeys,<br />Alive to breast a future wrapped in haze,<br />Strike +camp, and onward, like the wind’s cloud-fleets.<br />Unresting +she, unresting he, from change<br />To change, as rain of cloud, as +fruit of rain;<br />She feels her blood-tree throbbing in her grain,<br />Yet +skyward branched, with loftier mark and range.</p> +<p>No miracle the sprout of wheat from clod,<br />She knows, nor growth +of man in grisly brute;<br />But he, the flower at head and soil at +root,<br />Is miracle, guides he the brute to God.<br />And that way +seems he bound; that way the road,<br />With his dark-lantern mind, +unled, alone,<br />Wearifully through forest-tracts unsown,<br />He +travels, urged by some internal goad.</p> +<p>Dares he behold the thing he is, what thing<br />He would become +is in his mind its child;<br />Astir, demanding birth to light and wing;<br />For +battle prompt, by pleasure unbeguiled.<br />So moves he forth in faith, +if he has made<br />His mind God’s temple, dedicate to truth.<br />Earth’s +nourishing delights, no more gainsaid,<br />He tastes, as doth the bridegroom +rich in youth.<br />Then knows he Love, that beckons and controls;<br />The +star of sky upon his footway cast;<br />Then match in him who holds +his tempters fast,<br />The body’s love and mind’s, whereof +the soul’s.<br />Then Earth her man for woman finds at last,<br />To +speed the pair unto her goal of goals.</p> +<p>Or is’t the widowed’s dream of her new mate?<br />Seen +has she virulent days of heat in flood;<br />The sly Persuader snaky +in his blood;<br />With her the barren Huntress alternate;<br />His +rough refractory off on kicking heels<br />To rear; the man dragged +rearward, shamed, amazed;<br />And as a torrent stream where cattle +grazed,<br />His tumbled world. What, then, the faith she feels?<br />May +not his aspect, like her own so fair<br />Reflexively, the central force +belie,<br />And he, the once wild ocean storming sky,<br />Be rebel +at the core? What hope is there?</p> +<p>’Tis that in each recovery he preserves,<br />Between his upper +and his nether wit,<br />Sense of his march ahead, more brightly lit;<br />He +less the shaken thing of lusts and nerves;<br />With such a grasp upon +his brute as tells<br />Of wisdom from that vile relapsing spun.<br />A +Sun goes down in wasted fire, a Sun<br />Resplendent springs, to faith +refreshed compels.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: The Cageing Of Ares</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, v. V. 385—Dedicated to the Council at The Hague.]</p> +<p>How big of breast our Mother Gaea laughed<br />At sight of her boy +Giants on the leap<br />Each over other as they neighboured home,<br />Fronting +the day’s descent across green slopes,<br />And up fired mountain +crags their shadows danced.<br />Close with them in their fun, she scarce +could guess,<br />Though these two billowy urchins reeked of craft,<br />It +signalled some adventurous master-trick<br />To set Olympians buzzing +in debate,<br />Lest it might be their godhead undermined,<br />The +Tyranny menaced. Ephialtes high<br />On shoulders of his brother +Otos waved<br />For the bull-bellowings given to grand good news,<br />Compact, +complexioned in his gleeful roar<br />While Otos aped the prisoner’s +wrists and knees,<br />With doleful sniffs between recurrent howls;<br />Till +Gaea’s lap receiving them, they stretched,<br />And both upon +her bosom shaken to speech,<br />Burst the hot story out of throats +of both,<br />Like rocky head-founts, baffling in their glut<br />The +hurried spout. And as when drifting storm<br />Disburdened loses +clasp of here and yon<br />A peak, a forest mound, a valley’s +gleam<br />Of grass and the river’s crooks and snaky coils,<br />Signification +marvellous she caught,<br />Through gurglings of triumphant jollity,<br />Which +now engulphed and now gave eye; at last<br />Subsided, and the serious +naked deed,<br />With mountain-cloud of laughter banked around,<br />Stood +in her sight confirmed: she could believe<br />That these, her sprouts +of promise, her most prized,<br />These two made up of lion, bear and +fox,<br />Her sportive, suckling mammoths, her young joy,<br />Still +by the reckoning infants among men,<br />Had done the deed to strike +the Titan host<br />In envy dumb, in envious heart elate:<br />These +two combining strength and craft had snared,<br />Enmeshed, bound fast +with thongs, discreetly caged<br />The blood-shedder, the terrible Lord +of War;<br />Destroyer, ravager, superb in plumes;<br />The barren furrower +of anointed fields;<br />The scarlet heel in towns, foul smoke to sky,<br />Her +hated enemy, too long her scourge:<br />Great Ares. And they gagged +his trumpet mouth<br />When they had seized on his implacable spear,<br />Hugged +him to reedy helplessness despite<br />His godlike fury startled from +amaze.<br />For he had eyed them nearing him in play,<br />The giant +cubs, who gambolled and who snarled,<br />Unheeding his fell presence, +by the mount<br />Ossa, beside a brushwood cavern; there<br />On Earth’s +original fisticuffs they called<br />For ease of sharp dispute: whereat +the God,<br />Approving, deemed that sometime trained to arms,<br />Good +servitors of Ares they would be,<br />And ply the pointed spear to dominate<br />Their +rebel restless fellows, villain brood<br />Vowed to defy Immortals. +So it chanced<br />Amusedly he watched them, and as one<br />The lusty +twain were on him and they had him.<br />Breath to us, Powers of air, +for laughter loud!<br />Cock of Olympus he, superb in plumes!<br />Bound +like a wheaten sheaf by those two babes!<br />Because they knew our +Mother Gaea loathed him,<br />Knew him the famine, pestilence and waste;<br />A +desolating fire to blind the sight<br />With splendour built of fruitful +things in ashes;<br />The gory chariot-wheel on cries for justice;<br />Her +deepest planted and her liveliest voice,<br />Heard from the babe as +from the broken crone.<br />Behold him in his vessel of bronze encased,<br />And +tumbled down the cave. But rather look -<br />Ah, that the woman +tattler had not sought,<br />Of all the Gods to let her secret fly,<br />Hermes, +after the thirteen songful months!<br />Prompting the Dexterous to work +his arts,<br />And shatter earth’s delirious holiday,<br />Then +first, as where the fountain runs a stream,<br />Resolving to composure +on its throbs.<br />But see her in the Seasons through that year;<br />That +one glad year and the fair opening month.<br />Had never our Great Mother +such sweet face!<br />War with her, gentle war with her, each day<br />Her +sons and daughters urged; at eve were flung,<br />On the morrow stood +to challenge; in their strength<br />Renewed, indomitable; whereof they +won,<br />From hourly wrestlings up to shut of lids,<br />Her ready +secret: the abounding life<br />Returned for valiant labour: she and +they<br />Defeated and victorious turn by turn;<br />By loss enriched, +by overthrow restored.<br />Exchange of powers of this conflict came;<br />Defacement +none, nor ever squandered force.<br />Is battle nature’s mandate, +here it reigned,<br />As music unto the hand that smote the strings;<br />And +she the rosier from their showery brows,<br />They fruitful from her +ploughed and harrowed breast.<br />Back to the primal rational of those<br />Who +suck the teats of milky earth, and clasp<br />Stability in hatred of +the insane,<br />Man stepped; with wits less fearful to pronounce<br />The +mortal mind’s concept of earth’s divorced<br />Above; those +beautiful, those masterful,<br />Those lawless. High they sit, +and if descend,<br />Descend to reap, not sowing. Is it just?<br />Earth +in her happy children asked that word,<br />Whereto within their breast +was her reply.<br />Those beautiful, those masterful, those lawless,<br />Enjoy +the life prolonged, outleap the years;<br />Yet they (’twas the +Great Mother’s voice inspired<br />The audacious thought), they, +glorious over dust,<br />Outleap not her; disrooted from her soar,<br />To +meet the certain fate of earth’s divorced,<br />And clap lame +wings across a wintry haze,<br />Up to the farthest bourne: immortal +still,<br />Thenceforth innocuous; lovelier than when ruled<br />The +Tyranny. This her voice within them told,<br />When softly the +Great Mother chid her sons<br />Not of the giant brood, who did create<br />Those +lawless Gods, first offspring of our brain<br />Set moving by an abject +blood, that waked<br />To wanton under elements more benign,<br />And +planted aliens on Olympian heights; -<br />Imagination’s cradle +poesy<br />Become a monstrous pressure upon men; -<br />Foes of good +Gaea; until dispossessed<br />By light from her, born of the love of +her,<br />Their lordship the illumined brain rejects<br />For earth’s +beneficent, the sons of Law,<br />Her other name. So spake she +in their heart,<br />Among the wheat-blades proud of stalk; beneath<br />Young +vine-leaves pushing timid fingers forth,<br />Confidently to cling. +And when brown corn<br />Swayed armied ranks with softened cricket song,<br />With +gold necks bent for any zephyr’s kiss;<br />When vine-roots daily +down a rubble soil<br />Drank fire of heaven athirst to swell the grape;<br />When +swelled the grape, and in it held a ray,<br />Rich issue of the embrace +of heaven and earth;<br />The very eye of passion drowsed by excess,<br />And +yet a burning lion for the spring;<br />Then in that time of general +cherishment,<br />Sweet breathing balm and flutes by cool wood-side,<br />He +the harsh rouser of ire being absent, caged,<br />Then did good Gaea’s +children gratefully<br />Lift hymns to Gods they judged, but praised +for peace,<br />Delightful Peace, that answers Reason’s call<br />Harmoniously +and images her Law;<br />Reflects, and though short-lived as then, revives,<br />In +memories made present on the brain<br />By natural yearnings, all the +happy scenes;<br />The picture of an earth allied to heaven;<br />Between +them the known smile behind black masks;<br />Rightly their various +moods interpreted;<br />And frolic because toilful children borne<br />With +larger comprehension of Earth’s aim<br />At loftier, clearer, +sweeter, by their aid.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: The Night-Walk</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Awakes for me and leaps from shroud<br />All radiantly the moon’s +own night<br />Of folded showers in streamer cloud;<br />Our shadows +down the highway white<br />Or deep in woodland woven-boughed,<br />With +yon and yon a stem alight.</p> +<p>I see marauder runagates<br />Across us shoot their dusky wink;<br />I +hear the parliament of chats<br />In haws beside the river’s brink;<br />And +drops the vole off alder-banks,<br />To push his arrow through the stream.<br />These +busy people had our thanks<br />For tickling sight and sound, but theme<br />They +were not more than breath we drew<br />Delighted with our world’s +embrace:<br />The moss-root smell where beeches grew,<br />And watered +grass in breezy space;<br />The silken heights, of ghostly bloom<br />Among +their folds, by distance draped.<br />’Twas Youth, rapacious to +consume,<br />That cried to have its chaos shaped:<br />Absorbing, little +noting, still<br />Enriched, and thinking it bestowed;<br />With wistful +looks on each far hill<br />For something hidden, something owed.<br />Unto +his mantled sister, Day<br />Had given the secret things we sought<br />And +she was grave and saintly gay;<br />At times she fluttered, spoke her +thought;<br />She flew on it, then folded wings,<br />In meditation +passing lone,<br />To breathe around the secret things,<br />Which have +no word, and yet are known;<br />Of thirst for them are known, as air<br />Is +health in blood: we gained enough<br />By this to feel it honest fare;<br />Impalpable, +not barren, stuff.</p> +<p>A pride of legs in motion kept<br />Our spirits to their task meanwhile,<br />And +what was deepest dreaming slept:<br />The posts that named the swallowed +mile;<br />Beside the straight canal the hut<br />Abandoned; near the +river’s source<br />Its infant chirp; the shortest cut;<br />The +roadway missed; were our discourse;<br />At times dear poets, whom some +view<br />Transcendent or subdued evoked<br />To speak the memorable, +the true,<br />The luminous as a moon uncloaked;<br />For proof that +there, among earth’s dumb,<br />A soul had passed and said our +best.<br />Or it might be we chimed on some<br />Historic favourite’s +astral crest,<br />With part to reverence in its gleam,<br />And part +to rivalry the shout:<br />So royal, unuttered, is youth’s dream<br />Of +power within to strike without.<br />But most the silences were sweet,<br />Like +mothers’ breasts, to bid it feel<br />It lived in such divine +conceit<br />As envies aught we stamp for real.</p> +<p>To either then an untold tale<br />Was Life, and author, hero, we.<br />The +chapters holding peaks to scale,<br />Or depths to fathom, made our +glee;<br />For we were armed of inner fires,<br />Unbled in us the ripe +desires;<br />And passion rolled a quiet sea,<br />Whereon was Love +the phantom sail.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: The Hueless Love</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Unto that love must we through fire attain,<br />Which those two +held as breath of common air;<br />The hands of whom were given in bond +elsewhere;<br />Whom Honour was untroubled to restrain.</p> +<p>Midway the road of our life’s term they met,<br />And one another +knew without surprise;<br />Nor cared that beauty stood in mutual eyes;<br />Nor +at their tardy meeting nursed regret.</p> +<p>To them it was revealed how they had found<br />The kindred nature +and the needed mind;<br />The mate by long conspiracy designed;<br />The +flower to plant in sanctuary ground.</p> +<p>Avowed in vigilant solicitude<br />For either, what most lived within +each breast<br />They let be seen: yet every human test<br />Demanding +righteousness approved them good.</p> +<p>She leaned on a strong arm, and little feared<br />Abandonment to +help if heaved or sank<br />Her heart at intervals while Love looked +blank,<br />Life rosier were she but less revered.</p> +<p>An arm that never shook did not obscure<br />Her woman’s intuition +of the bliss -<br />Their tempter’s moment o’er the black +abyss,<br />Across the narrow plank—he could abjure.</p> +<p>Then came a day that clipped for him the thread,<br />And their first +touch of lips, as he lay cold,<br />Was all of earthly in their love +untold,<br />Beyond all earthly known to them who wed.</p> +<p>So has there come the gust at South-west flung<br />By sudden volt +on eves of freezing mist,<br />When sister snowflake sister snowdrop +kissed,<br />And one passed out, and one the bell-head hung.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Song In The Songless</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>They have no song, the sedges dry,<br />And still they sing.<br />It +is within my breast they sing,<br />As I pass by.<br />Within my breast +they touch a string,<br />They wake a sigh.<br />There is but sound +of sedges dry;<br />In me they sing.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Union In Disseverance</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Sunset worn to its last vermilion he;<br />She that star overhead +in slow descent:<br />That white star with the front of angel she;<br />He +undone in his rays of glory spent</p> +<p>Halo, fair as the bow-shot at his rise,<br />He casts round her, +and knows his hour of rest<br />Incomplete, were the light for which +he dies,<br />Less like joy of the dove that wings to nest.</p> +<p>Lustrous momently, near on earth she sinks;<br />Life’s full +throb over breathless and abased:<br />Yet stand they, though impalpable +the links,<br />One, more one than the bridally embraced.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: The Burden Of Strength</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>If that thou hast the gift of strength, then know<br />Thy part is +to uplift the trodden low;<br />Else in a giant’s grasp until +the end<br />A hopeless wrestler shall thy soul contend.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: The Main Regret</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Written for the Charing Cross Album]</p> +<p>I.</p> +<p>Seen, too clear and historic within us, our sins of omission<br />Frown +when the Autumn days strike us all ruthlessly bare.<br />They of our +mortal diseases find never healing physician;<br />Errors they of the +soul, past the one hope to repair.</p> +<p>II.</p> +<p>Sunshine might we have been unto seed under soil, or have scattered<br />Seed +to ascendant suns brighter than any that shone.<br />Even the limp-legged +beggar a sick desperado has flattered<br />Back to a half-sloughed life +cheered by the mere human tone.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Alternation</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Between the fountain and the rill<br />I passed, and saw the mighty +will<br />To leap at sky; the careless run,<br />As earth would lead +her little son.</p> +<p>Beneath them throbs an urgent well,<br />That here is play, and there +is war.<br />I know not which had most to tell<br />Of whence we spring +and what we are.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Hawarden</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>When comes the lighted day for men to read<br />Life’s meaning, +with the work before their hands<br />Till this good gift of breath +from debt is freed,<br />Earth will not hear her children’s wailful +bands<br />Deplore the chieftain fall’n in sob and dirge;<br />Nor +they look where is darkness, but on high.<br />The sun that dropped +down our horizon’s verge,<br />Illumes his labours through the +travelled sky,<br />Now seen in sum, most glorious; and ’tis known<br />By +what our warrior wrought we hold him fast.<br />A splendid image built +of man has flown;<br />His deeds inspired of God outstep a Past.<br />Ours +the great privilege to have had one<br />Among us who celestial tasks +has done.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: At The Close</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>To Thee, dear God of Mercy, both appeal,<br />Who straightway sound +the call to arms. Thou know’st;<br />And that black spot +in each embattled host,<br />Spring of the blood-stream, later wilt +reveal.<br />Now is it red artillery and white steel;<br />Till on a +day will ring the victor’s boast,<br />That ’tis Thy chosen +towers uppermost,<br />Where Thy rejected grovels under heel.<br />So +in all times of man’s descent insane<br />To brute, did strength +and craft combining strike,<br />Even as a God of Armies, his fell blow.<br />But +at the close he entered Thy domain,<br />Dear God of Mercy, and if lion-like<br />He +tore the fall’n, the Eternal was his Foe.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Forest History</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>I.</p> +<p>Beneath the vans of doom did men pass in.<br />Heroic who came out; +for round them hung<br />A wavering phantom’s red volcano tongue,<br />With +league-long lizard tail and fishy fin:</p> +<p>II.</p> +<p>Old Earth’s original Dragon; there retired<br />To his last +fastness; overthrown by few.<br />Him a laborious thrust of roadway +slew.<br />Then man to play devorant straight was fired.</p> +<p>III.</p> +<p>More intimate became the forest fear<br />While pillared darkness +hatched malicious life<br />At either elbow, wolf or gnome or knife<br />And +wary slid the glance from ear to ear.</p> +<p>IV.</p> +<p>In chillness, like a clouded lantern-ray,<br />The forest’s +heart of fog on mossed morass,<br />On purple pool and silky cotton-grass,<br />Revealed +where lured the swallower byway.</p> +<p>V.</p> +<p>Dead outlook, flattened back with hard rebound<br />Off walls of +distance, left each mounted height.<br />It seemed a giant hag-fiend, +churning spite<br />Of humble human being, held the ground.</p> +<p>VI.</p> +<p>Through friendless wastes, through treacherous woodland, slow<br />The +feet sustained by track of feet pursued<br />Pained steps, and found +the common brotherhood<br />By sign of Heaven indifferent, Nature foe.</p> +<p>VII.</p> +<p>Anon a mason’s work amazed the sight,<br />And long-frocked +men, called Brothers, there abode.<br />They pointed up, bowed head, +and dug and sowed;<br />Whereof was shelter, loaf, and warm firelight.</p> +<p>VIII.</p> +<p>What words they taught were nails to scratch the head.<br />Benignant +works explained the chanting brood.<br />Their monastery lit black solitude,<br />As +one might think a star that heavenward led.</p> +<p>IX.</p> +<p>Uprose a fairer nest for weary feet,<br />Like some gold flower nightly +inward curled,<br />Where gentle maidens fled a roaring world,<br />Or +played with it, and had their white retreat.</p> +<p>X.</p> +<p>Into big books of metal clasps they pored.<br />They governed, even +as men; they welcomed lays.<br />The treasures women are whose aim is +praise,<br />Was shown in them: the Garden half restored.</p> +<p>XI.</p> +<p>A deluge billow scoured the land off seas,<br />With widened jaws, +and slaughter was its foam.<br />For food, for clothing, ambush, refuge, +home,<br />The lesser savage offered bogs and trees.</p> +<p>XII.</p> +<p>Whence reverence round grey-haired story grew:<br />And inmost spots +of ancient horror shone<br />As temples under beams of trials bygone;<br />For +in them sang brave times with God in view.</p> +<p>XIII.</p> +<p>Till now trim homesteads bordered spaces green,<br />Like night’s +first little stars through clearing showers.<br />Was rumoured how a +castle’s falcon towers<br />The wilderness commanded with fierce +mien.</p> +<p>XIV.</p> +<p>Therein a serious Baron stuck his lance;<br />For minstrel songs +a beauteous Dame would pout.<br />Gay knights and sombre, felon or devout,<br />Pricked +onward, bound for their unsung romance.</p> +<p>XV.</p> +<p>It might be that two errant lords across<br />The block of each came +edged, and at sharp cry<br />They charged forthwith, the better man +to try.<br />One rode his way, one couched on quiet moss.</p> +<p>XVI.</p> +<p>Perchance a lady sweet, whose lord lay slain,<br />The robbers into +gruesome durance drew.<br />Swift should her hero come, like lightning’s +blue!<br />She prayed for him, as crackling drought for rain.</p> +<p>XVII.</p> +<p>As we, that ere the worst her hero haps,<br />Of Angels guided, nigh +that loathly den:<br />A toady cave beside an ague fen,<br />Where long +forlorn the lone dog whines and yaps.</p> +<p>XVIII.</p> +<p>By daylight now the forest fear could read<br />Itself, and at new +wonders chuckling went.<br />Straight for the roebuck’s neck the +bowman spent<br />A dart that laughed at distance and at speed.</p> +<p>XIX.</p> +<p>Right loud the bugle’s hallali elate<br />Rang forth of merry +dingles round the tors;<br />And deftest hand was he from foreign wars,<br />But +soon he hailed the home-bred yeoman mate.</p> +<p>XX.</p> +<p>Before the blackbird pecked the turf they woke;<br />At dawn the +deer’s wet nostrils blew their last.<br />To forest, haunt of +runs and prime repast,<br />With paying blows, the yokel strained his +yoke.</p> +<p>XXI.</p> +<p>The city urchin mooned on forest air,<br />On grassy sweeps and flying +arrows, thick<br />As swallows o’er smooth streams, and sighed +him sick<br />For thinking that his dearer home was there.</p> +<p>XXII.</p> +<p>Familiar, still unseized, the forest sprang<br />An old-world echo, +like no mortal thing.<br />The hunter’s horn might wind a jocund +ring,<br />But held in ear it had a chilly clang.</p> +<p>XXIII.</p> +<p>Some shadow lurked aloof of ancient time;<br />Some warning haunted +any sound prolonged,<br />As though the leagues of woodland held them +wronged<br />To hear an axe and see a township climb.</p> +<p>XXIV.</p> +<p>The forest’s erewhile emperor at eve<br />Had voice when lowered +heavens drummed for gales.<br />At midnight a small people danced the +dales,<br />So thin that they might dwindle through a sieve</p> +<p>XXV.</p> +<p>Ringed mushrooms told of them, and in their throats,<br />Old wives +that gathered herbs and knew too much.<br />The pensioned forester beside +his crutch,<br />Struck showers from embers at those bodeful notes.</p> +<p>XXVI.</p> +<p>Came then the one, all ear, all eye, all heart;<br />Devourer, and +insensibly devoured;<br />In whom the city over forest flowered,<br />The +forest wreathed the city’s drama-mart.</p> +<p>XXVII.</p> +<p>There found he in new form that Dragon old,<br />From tangled solitudes +expelled; and taught<br />How blindly each its antidote besought;<br />For +either’s breath the needs of either told.</p> +<p>XXVIII.</p> +<p>Now deep in woods, with song no sermon’s drone,<br />He showed +what charm the human concourse works:<br />Amid the press of men, what +virtue lurks<br />Where bubble sacred wells of wildness lone.</p> +<p>XXIX.</p> +<p>Our conquest these: if haply we retain<br />The reverence that ne’er +will overrun<br />Due boundaries of realms from Nature won,<br />Nor +let the poet’s awe in rapture wane.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: A Garden Idyl</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>With sagest craft Arachne worked<br />Her web, and at a corner lurked,<br />Awaiting +what should plump her soon,<br />To case it in the death-cocoon.<br />Sagaciously +her home she chose<br />For visits that would never close;<br />Inside +my chalet-porch her feast<br />Plucked all the winds but chill North-east.</p> +<p>The finished structure, bar on bar,<br />Had snatched from light +to form a star,<br />And struck on sight, when quick with dews,<br />Like +music of the very Muse.<br />Great artists pass our single sense;<br />We +hear in seeing, strung to tense;<br />Then haply marvel, groan mayhap,<br />To +think such beauty means a trap.<br />But Nature’s genius, even +man’s<br />At best, is practical in plans;<br />Subservient to +the needy thought,<br />However rare the weapon wrought.<br />As long +as Nature holds it good<br />To urge her creatures’ quest for +food<br />Will beauty stamp the just intent<br />Of weapons upon service +bent.<br />For beauty is a flower of roots<br />Embedded lower than +our boots;<br />Out of the primal strata springs,<br />And shows for +crown of useful things</p> +<p>Arachne’s dream of prey to size<br />Aspired; so she could +nigh despise<br />The puny specks the breezes round<br />Supplied, and +let them shake unwound;<br />Assured of her fat fly to come;<br />Perhaps +a blue, the spider’s plum;<br />Who takes the fatal odds in fight,<br />And +gives repast an appetite,<br />By plunging, whizzing, till his wings<br />Are +webbed, and in the lists he swings,<br />A shrouded lump, for her to +see<br />Her banquet in her victory.</p> +<p>This matron of the unnumbered threads,<br />One day of dandelions’ +heads<br />Distributing their gray perruques<br />Up every gust, I watched +with looks<br />Discreet beside the chalet-door;<br />And gracefully +a light wind bore,<br />Direct upon my webster’s wall,<br />A +monster in the form of ball;<br />The mildest captive ever snared,<br />That +neither struggled nor despaired,<br />On half the net invading hung,<br />And +plain as in her mother tongue,<br />While low the weaver cursed her +lures,<br />Remarked, “You have me; I am yours.”</p> +<p>Thrice magnified, in phantom shape,<br />Her dream of size she saw, +agape.<br />Midway the vast round-raying beard<br />A desiccated midge +appeared;<br />Whose body pricked the name of meal,<br />Whose hair +had growth in earth’s unreal;<br />Provocative of dread and wrath,<br />Contempt +and horror, in one froth,<br />Inextricable, insensible,<br />His poison +presence there would dwell,<br />Declaring him her dream fulfilled,<br />A +catch to compliment the skilled;<br />And she reduced to beaky skin,<br />Disgraceful +among kith and kin</p> +<p>Against her corner, humped and aged,<br />Arachne wrinkled, past +enraged,<br />Beyond disgust or hope in guile.<br />Ridiculously volatile<br />He +seemed to her last spark of mind;<br />And that in pallid ash declined<br />Beneath +the blow by knowledge dealt,<br />Wherein throughout her frame she felt<br />That +he, the light wind’s libertine,<br />Without a scoff, without +a grin,<br />And mannered like the courtly few,<br />Who merely danced +when light winds blew,<br />Impervious to beak and claws,<br />Tradition’s +ruinous Whitebeard was;<br />Of whom, as actors in old scenes,<br />Had +grannam weavers warned their weans,<br />With word, that less than feather-weight,<br />He +smote the web like bolt of Fate.</p> +<p>This muted drama, hour by hour,<br />I watched amid a world in flower,<br />Ere +yet Autumnal threads had laid<br />Their gray-blue o’er the grass’s +blade,<br />And still along the garden-run<br />The blindworm stretched +him, drunk of sun.<br />Arachne crouched unmoved; perchance<br />Her +visitor performed a dance;<br />She puckered thinner; he the same<br />As +when on that light wind he came.</p> +<p>Next day was told what deeds of night<br />Were done; the web had +vanished quite;<br />With it the strange opposing pair;<br />And listless +waved on vacant air,<br />For her adieu to heart’s content,<br />A +solitary filament.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Poem: Foresight And Patience</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>Sprung of the father blood, the mother brain,<br />Are they who point +our pathway and sustain.<br />They rarely meet; one soars, one walks +retired.<br />When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.</p> +<p>To see Life’s formless offspring and subdue<br />Desire of +times unripe, we have these two,<br />Whose union is right reason: join +they hands,<br />The world shall know itself and where it stands;<br />What +cowering angel and what upright beast<br />Make man, behold, nor count +the low the least,<br />Nor less the stars have round it than its flowers.<br />When +these two meet, a point of time is ours.</p> +<p>As in a land of waterfalls, that flow<br />Smooth for the leap on +their great voice below,<br />Some eddies near the brink borne swift +along,<br />Will capture hearing with the liquid song,<br />So, while +the headlong world’s imperious force<br />Resounded under, heard +I these discourse.</p> +<p>First words, where down my woodland walk she led,<br />To her blind +sister Patience, Foresight said:</p> +<p>- Your faith in me appals, to shake my own,<br />When still I find +you in this mire alone.</p> +<p>- The few steps taken at a funeral pace<br />By men had slain me +but for those you trace.</p> +<p>- Look I once back, a broken pinion I:<br />Black as the rebel angels +rained from sky!</p> +<p>- Needs must you drink of me while here you live,<br />And make me +rich in feeling I can give.</p> +<p>- A brave To-be is dawn upon my brow:<br />Yet must I read my sister +for the How.<br />My daisy better knows her God of beams<br />Than doth +an eagle that to mount him seems.<br />She hath the secret never fieriest +reach<br />Of wing shall master till men hear her teach.</p> +<p>- Liker the clod flaked by the driving plough,<br />My semblance +when I have you not as now.<br />The quiet creatures who escape mishap<br />Bear +likeness to pure growths of the green sap:<br />A picture of the settled +peace desired<br />By cowards shunning strife or strivers tired.<br />I +listen at their breasts: is there no jar<br />Of wrestlings and of stranglings, +dead they are,<br />And such a picture as the piercing mind<br />Ranks +beneath vegetation. Not resigned<br />Are my true pupils while +the world is brute.<br />What edict of the stronger keeps me mute,<br />Stronger +impels the motion of my heart.<br />I am not Resignation’s counterpart.<br />If +that I teach, ’tis little the dry word,<br />Content, but how +to savour hope deferred.<br />We come of earth, and rich of earth may +be;<br />Soon carrion if very earth are we!<br />The coursing veins, +the constant breath, the use<br />Of sleep, declare that strife allows +short truce;<br />Unless we clasp decay, accept defeat,<br />And pass +despised; “a-cold for lack of heat,”<br />Like other corpses, +but without death’s plea.</p> +<p>- My sister calls for battle; is it she?</p> +<p>- Rather a world of pressing men in arms,<br />Than stagnant, where +the sensual piper charms<br />Each drowsy malady and coiling vice<br />With +dreams of ease whereof the soul pays price!<br />No home is here for +peace while evil breeds,<br />While error governs, none; and must the +seeds<br />You sow, you that for long have reaped disdain,<br />Lie +barren at the doorway of the brain,<br />Let stout contention drive +deep furrows, blood<br />Moisten, and make new channels of its flood!</p> +<p>- My sober little maid, when we meet first,<br />Drinks of me ever +with an eager thirst.<br />So can I not of her till circumstance<br />Drugs +cravings. Here we see how men advance<br />A doubtful foot, but +circle if much stirred,<br />Like dead weeds on whipped waters. +Shout the word<br />Prompting their hungers, and they grandly march,<br />As +to band-music under Victory’s arch.<br />Thus was it, and thus +is it; save that then<br />The beauty of frank animals had men.</p> +<p>- Observe them, and down rearward for a term,<br />Gaze to the primal +twistings of the worm.<br />Thence look this way, across the fields +that show<br />Men’s early form of speech for Yes and No.<br />My +sister a bruised infant’s utterance had;<br />And issuing stronger, +to mankind ’twas mad.<br />I knew my home where I had choice to +feel<br />The toad beneath a harrow or a heel.</p> +<p>- Speak of this Age.</p> +<p>- When you it shall discern<br />Bright as you are, to me the Age +will turn.</p> +<p>- For neither of us has it any care;<br />Its learning is through +Science to despair.</p> +<p>- Despair lies down and grovels, grapples not<br />With evil, casts +the burden of its lot.<br />This Age climbs earth.</p> +<p>- To challenge heaven.</p> +<p>- Not less<br />The lower deeps. It laughs at Happiness!<br />That +know I, though the echoes of it wail,<br />For one step upward on the +crags you scale.<br />Brave is the Age wherein the word will rust,<br />Which +means our soul asleep or body’s lust,<br />Until from warmth of +many breasts, that beat<br />A temperate common music, sunlike heat<br />The +happiness not predatory sheds!</p> +<p>- But your fierce Yes and No of butting heads,<br />Now rages to +outdo a horny Past.<br />Shades of a wild Destroyer on the vast<br />Are +thrown by every novel light upraised.<br />The world’s whole round +smokes ominously, amazed<br />And trembling as its pregnant AEtna swells.<br />Combustibles +on hot combustibles<br />Run piling, for one spark to roll in fire<br />The +mountain-torrent of infernal ire<br />And leave the track of devils +where men built.<br />Perceptive of a doom, the sinner’s guilt<br />Confesses +in a cry for help shrill loud,<br />If drops the chillness of a passing +cloud,<br />To conscience, reason, human love; in vain:<br />None save +they but the souls which them contain.<br />No extramural God, the God +within<br />Alone gives aid to city charged with sin.<br />A world that +for the spur of fool and knave,<br />Sweats in its laboratory, what +shall save?<br />But men who ply their wits in such a school,<br />Must +pray the mercy of the knave and fool.</p> +<p>- Much have I studied hard Necessity!<br />To know her Wisdom’s +mother, and that we<br />May deem the harshness of her later cries<br />In +labour a sure goad to prick the wise,<br />If men among the warnings +which convulse,<br />Can gravely dread without the craven’s pulse.<br />Long +ere the rising of this Age of ours,<br />The knave and fool were stamped +as monstrous Powers.<br />Of human lusts and lassitudes they spring,<br />And +are as lasting as the parent thing.<br />Yet numbering locust hosts, +bent they to drill,<br />They might o’ermatch and have mankind +at will.</p> +<p>Behold such army gathering: ours the spur,<br />No scattered foe +to face, but Lucifer.<br />Not fool or knave is now the enemy<br />O’ershadowing +men, ’tis Folly, Knavery!<br />A sea; nor stays that sea the bastioned +beach.<br />Now must the brother soul alive in each,<br />His traitorous +individual devildom<br />Hold subject lest the grand destruction come.<br />Dimly +men see it menacing apace<br />To overthrow, perchance uproot the race.<br />Within, +without, they are a field of tares:<br />Fruitfuller for them when the +contest squares,<br />And wherefore warrior service they must yield,<br />Shines +visible as life on either field.<br />That is my comfort, following +shock on shock,<br />Which sets faith quaking on their firmest rock.<br />Since +with his weapons, all the arms of Night,<br />Frail men have challenged +Lucifer to fight,<br />Have matched in hostile ranks, enrolled, erect,<br />The +human and Satanic intellect,<br />Determined for their uses to control<br />What +forces on the earth and under roll,<br />Their granite rock runs igneous; +now they stand<br />Pledged to the heavens for safety of their land.<br />They +cannot learn save grossly, gross that are:<br />Through fear they learn +whose aid is good in war.</p> +<p>- My sister, as I read them in my glass,<br />Their field of tares +they take for pasture grass.<br />How waken them that have not any bent<br />Save +browsing—the concrete indifferent!<br />Friend Lucifer supplies +them solid stuff:<br />They fear not for the race when full the trough.<br />They +have much fear of giving up the ghost;<br />And these are of mankind +the unnumbered host.</p> +<p>- If I could see with you, and did not faint<br />In beating wing, +the future I would paint.<br />Those massed indifferents will learn +to quake:<br />Now meanwhile is another mass awake,<br />Once denser +than the grunters of the sty.<br />If I could see with you! Could +I but fly!</p> +<p>- The length of days that you with them have housed,<br />An outcast +else, approves their cause espoused.</p> +<p>- O true, they have a cause, and woe for us,<br />While still they +have a cause too piteous!<br />Yet, happy for us when, their cause defined,<br />They +walk no longer with a stumbler blind,<br />And quicken in the virtue +of their cause,<br />To think me a poor mouther of old saws!<br />I +wait the issue of a battling Age;<br />The toilers with your “troughsters” +now engage;<br />Instructing them through their acutest sense,<br />How +close the dangers of indifference!<br />Already have my people shown +their worth,<br />More love they light, which folds the love of Earth.<br />That +love to love of labour leads: thence love<br />Of humankind—earth’s +incense flung above.</p> +<p>- Admit some other features: Faithless, mean;<br />Encased in matter; +vowed to Gods obscene;<br />Contemptuous of the impalpable, it swells<br />On +Doubt; for pastime swallows miracles;<br />And if I bid it face what +<i>I</i> observe,<br />Declares me hoodwinked by my optic nerve!</p> +<p>- Oft has your prophet, for reward of toil,<br />Seen nests of seeming +cockatrices coil:<br />Disowned them as the unholiest of Time,<br />Which +were his offspring, born of flame on slime.<br />Nor him, their sire, +have known the filial fry:<br />As little as Time’s earliest knew +the sky.<br />Perchance among them shoots a lustrous flame<br />At intervals, +in proof of whom they came.<br />To strengthen our foundations is the +task<br />Of this tough Age; not in your beams to bask,<br />Though, +lighted by your beams, down mining caves<br />The rock it blasts, the +hoarded foulness braves.<br />My sister sees no round beyond her mood;<br />To +hawk this Age has dressed her head in hood.<br />Out of the course of +ancient ruts and grooves,<br />It moves: O much for me to say it moves!<br />About +his AEthiop Highlands Nile is Nile,<br />Though not the stream of the +paternal smile:<br />And where his tide of nourishment he drives,<br />An +Abyssinian wantonness revives.<br />Calm as his lotus-leaf to-day he +swims;<br />He is the yellow crops, the rounded limbs,<br />The Past +yet flowing, the fair time that fills;<br />Breath of all mouths and +grist of many mills.</p> +<p>To-morrow, warning none with tempest-showers,<br />He is the vast +Insensate who devours<br />His golden promise over leagues of seed,<br />Then +sits in a smooth lake upon the deed.<br />The races which on barbarous +force begin,<br />Inherit onward of their origin,<br />And cancelled +blessings will the current length<br />Reveal till they know need of +shaping strength.<br />’Tis not in men to recognize the need<br />Before +they clash in hosts, in hosts they bleed.<br />Then may sharp suffering +their nature grind;<br />Of rabble passions grow the chieftain Mind.<br />Yet +mark where still broad Nile boasts thousands fed,<br />For tens up the +safe mountains at his head.<br />Few would be fed, not far his course +prolong,<br />Save for the troublous blood which makes him strong.</p> +<p>- That rings of truth! More do your people thrive;<br />Your +Many are more merrily alive<br />Than erewhile when I gloried in the +page<br />Of radiant singer and anointed sage.<br />Greece was my lamp: +burnt out for lack of oil;<br />Rome, Python Rome, prey of its robber +spoil!<br />All structures built upon a narrow space<br />Must fall, +from having not your hosts for base.<br />O thrice must one be you, +to see them shift<br />Along their desert flats, here dash, there drift;<br />With +faith, that of privations and spilt blood,<br />Comes Reason armed to +clear or bank the flood!<br />And thrice must one be you, to wait release<br />From +duress in the swamp of their increase.<br />At which oppressive scene, +beyond arrest,<br />A darkness not with stars of heaven dressed,<br />Philosophers +behold; desponding view.<br />Your Many nourished, starved my brilliant +few;<br />Then flinging heels, as charioteers the reins,<br />Dive down +the fumy AEtna of their brains.<br />Belated vessels on a rising sea,<br />They +seem: they pass!</p> +<p>- But not Philosophy!</p> +<p>- Ay, be we faithful to ourselves: despise<br />Nought but the coward +in us! That way lies<br />The wisdom making passage through our +slough.<br />Am I not heard, my head to Earth shall bow;<br />Like her, +shall wait to see, and seeing wait.<br />Philosophy is Life’s +one match for Fate.<br />That photosphere of our high fountain One,<br />Our +spirit’s Lord and Reason’s fostering sun,<br />Philosophy, +shall light us in the shade,<br />Warm in the frost, make Good our aim +and aid.<br />Companioned by the sweetest, ay renewed,<br />Unconquerable, +whose aim for aid is Good!<br />Advantage to the Many: that we name<br />God’s +voice; have there the surety in our aim.<br />This thought unto my sister +do I owe,<br />And irony and satire off me throw.<br />They crack a +childish whip, drive puny herds,<br />Where numbers crave their sustenance +in words.<br />Now let the perils thicken: clearer seen,<br />Your Chieftain +Mind mounts over them serene.<br />Who never yet of scattered lamps +was born<br />To speed a world, a marching world to warn,<br />But sunward +from the vivid Many springs,<br />Counts conquest but a step, and through +disaster sings.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h2>Fragments of the Iliad in English Hexameter Verse</h2> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: The Invective of Achilles</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. I. V. 149]</p> +<p>“Heigh me! brazen of front, thou glutton for plunder, how can +one,<br />Servant here to thy mandates, heed thee among our Achaians,<br />Either +the mission hie on or stoutly do fight with the foemen?<br />I, not +hither I fared on account of the spear-armèd Trojans,<br />Pledged +to the combat; they unto me have in nowise a harm done;<br />Never have +they, of a truth, come lifting my horses or oxen;<br />Never in deep-soiled +Phthia, the nurser of heroes, my harvests<br />Ravaged, they; for between +us is numbered full many a darksome<br />Mountain, ay, therewith too +the stretch of the windy sea-waters.<br />O hugely shameless! thee did +we follow to hearten thee, justice<br />Pluck from the Dardans for him, +Menelaos, thee too, thou dog-eyed!<br />Whereof little thy thought is, +nought whatever thou reckest.<br />Worse, it is thou whose threat ’tis +to ravish my prize from me, portion<br />Won with much labour, the which +my gift from the sons of Achaia.<br />Never, in sooth, have I known +my prize equal thine when Achaians<br />Gave some flourishing populous +Trojan town up to pillage.<br />Nay, sure, mine were the hands did most +in the storm of the combat,<br />Yet when came peradventure share of +the booty amongst us,<br />Bigger to thee went the prize, while I some +small blessèd thing bore<br />Off to the ships, my share of reward +for my toil in the bloodshed!<br />So now go I to Phthia, for better +by much it beseems me<br />Homeward go with my beaked ships now, and +I hold not in prospect,<br />I being outraged, thou mayst gather here +plunder and wealth-store.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: The Invective of Achilles—V. 225</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>“Bibber besotted, with scowl of a cur, having heart of a deer, +thou!<br />Never to join to thy warriors armed for the press of the +conflict,<br />Never for ambush forth with the princeliest sons of Achaia<br />Dared +thy soul, for to thee that thing would have looked as a death-stroke.<br />Sooth, +more easy it seems, down the lengthened array of Achaians,<br />Snatch +at the prize of the one whose voice has been lifted against thee.<br />Ravening +king of the folk, for that thou hast thy rule over abjects;<br />Else, +son of Atreus, now were this outrage on me thy last one.<br />Nay, but +I tell thee, and I do swear a big oath on it likewise:<br />Yea, by +the sceptre here, and it surely bears branches and leaf-buds<br />Never +again, since first it was lopped from its trunk on the mountains,<br />No +more sprouting; for round it all clean has the sharp metal clipped off<br />Leaves +and the bark; ay, verify now do the sons of Achaia,<br />Guardian hands +of the counsels of Zeus, pronouncing the judgement,<br />Hold it aloft; +so now unto thee shall the oath have its portent;<br />Loud will the +cry for Achilles burst from the sons of Achaia<br />Throughout the army, +and thou chafe powerless, though in an anguish,<br />How to give succour +when vast crops down under man-slaying Hector<br />Tumble expiring; +and thou deep in thee shalt tear at thy heart-strings,<br />Rage-wrung, +thou, that in nought thou didst honour the flower of Achaians.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: Marshalling Of The Achaians</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. II V. 455]</p> +<p>Like as a terrible fire feeds fast on a forest enormous,<br />Up +on a mountain height, and the blaze of it radiates round far,<br />So +on the bright blest arms of the host in their march did the splendour<br />Gleam +wide round through the circle of air right up to the sky-vault.<br />They, +now, as when swarm thick in the air multitudinous winged flocks,<br />Be +it of geese or of cranes or the long-necked troops of the wild-swans,<br />Off +that Asian mead, by the flow of the waters of Kaïstros;<br />Hither +and yon fly they, and rejoicing in pride of their pinions,<br />Clamour, +shaped to their ranks, and the mead all about them resoundeth;<br />So +those numerous tribes from their ships and their shelterings poured +forth<br />On that plain of Scamander, and horrible rumbled beneath +them<br />Earth to the quick-paced feet of the men and the tramp of +the horse-hooves.<br />Stopped they then on the fair-flower’d +field of Scamander, their thousands<br />Many as leaves and the blossoms +born of the flowerful season.<br />Even as countless hot-pressed flies +in their multitudes traverse,<br />Clouds of them, under some herdsman’s +wonning, where then are the milk-pails<br />Also, full of their milk, +in the bountiful season of spring-time;<br />Even so thickly the long-haired +sons of Achaia the plain held,<br />Prompt for the dash at the Trojan +host, with the passion to crush them.<br />Those, likewise, as the goatherds, +eyeing their vast flocks of goats, know<br />Easily one from the other +when all get mixed o’er the pasture,<br />So did the chieftains +rank them here there in their places for onslaught,<br />Hard on the +push of the fray; and among them King Agamemnon,<br />He, for his eyes +and his head, as when Zeus glows glad in his thunder,<br />He with the +girdle of Ares, he with the breast of Poseidon.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: Agamemnon In The Fight</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. XI. V. 148]</p> +<p>These, then, he left, and away where ranks were now clashing the +thickest,<br />Onward rushed, and with him rushed all of the bright-greaved +Achaians.<br />Foot then footmen slew, that were flying from direful +compulsion,<br />Horse at the horsemen (up from off under them mounted +the dust-cloud,<br />Up off the plain, raised up cloud-thick by the +thundering horse-hooves)<br />Hewed with the sword’s sharp edge; +and so meanwhile Lord Agamemnon<br />Followed, chasing and slaughtering +aye, on-urgeing the Argives.</p> +<p>Now, as when fire voracious catches the unclippèd woodland,<br />This +way bears it and that the great whirl of the wind, and the scrubwood<br />Stretches +uptorn, flung forward alength by the fire’s fury rageing,<br />So +beneath Atreides Agamemnon heads of the scattered<br />Trojans fell; +and in numbers amany the horses, neck-stiffened,<br />Rattled their +vacant cars down the roadway gaps of the war-field,<br />Missing the +blameless charioteers, but, for these, they were outstretched<br />Flat +upon earth, far dearer to vultures than to their home-mates.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: Paris And Diomedes</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad; B. XI V. 378]</p> +<p>So he, with a clear shout of laughter,<br />Forth of his ambush leapt, +and he vaunted him, uttering thiswise:<br />“Hit thou art! not +in vain flew the shaft; how by rights it had pierced thee<br />Into +the undermost gut, therewith to have rived thee of life-breath!<br />Following +that had the Trojans plucked a new breath from their direst,<br />They +all frighted of thee, as the goats bleat in flight from a lion.”<br />Then +unto him untroubled made answer stout Diomedes:<br />“Bow-puller, +jiber, thy bow for thy glorying, spyer at virgins!<br />If that thou +dared’st face me here out in the open with weapons,<br />Nothing +then would avail thee thy bow and thy thick shot of arrows.<br />Now +thou plumest thee vainly because of a graze of my footsole;<br />Reck +I as were that stroke from a woman or some pettish infant.<br />Aye +flies blunted the dart of the man that’s emasculate, noughtworth!<br />Otherwise +hits, forth flying from me, and but strikes it the slightest,<br />My +keen shaft, and it numbers a man of the dead fallen straightway.<br />Torn, +troth, then are the cheeks of the wife of that man fallen slaughtered,<br />Orphans +his babes, full surely he reddens the earth with his blood-drops,<br />Rotting, +round him the birds, more numerous they than the women.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: Hypnos On Ida</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. XIV. V. 283]</p> +<p>They then to fountain-abundant Ida, mother of wild beasts,<br />Came, +and they first left ocean to fare over mainland at Lektos,<br />Where +underneath of their feet waved loftiest growths of the woodland.<br />There +hung Hypnos fast, ere the vision of Zeus was observant,<br />Mounted +upon a tall pine-tree, tallest of pines that on Ida<br />Lustily spring +off soil for the shoot up aloft into aether.<br />There did he sit well-cloaked +by the wide-branched pine for concealment,<br />That loud bird, in his +form like, that perched high up in the mountains,<br />Chalkis is named +by the Gods, but of mortals known as Kymindis.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: Clash In Arms Of The Achaians And Trojans</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. XIV. V. 394]</p> +<p>Not the sea-wave so bellows abroad when it bursts upon shingle,<br />Whipped +from the sea’s deeps up by the terrible blast of the Northwind;<br />Nay, +nor is ever the roar of the fierce fire’s rush so arousing,<br />Down +along mountain-glades, when it surges to kindle a woodland;<br />Nay, +nor so tonant thunders the stress of the gale in the oak-trees’<br />Foliage-tresses +high, when it rages to raveing its utmost;<br />As rose then stupendous +the Trojan’s cry and Achaians’,<br />Dread upshouting as +one when together they clashed in the conflict.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: The Horses Of Achilles</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[Iliad, B. XVII. V. 426]</p> +<p>So now the horses of Aiakides, off wide of the war-ground,<br />Wept, +since first they were ware of their charioteer overthrown there,<br />Cast +down low in the whirl of the dust under man-slaying Hector.<br />Sooth, +meanwhile, then did Automedon, brave son of Diores,<br />Oft, on the +one hand, urge them with flicks of the swift whip, and oft, too,<br />Coax +entreatingly, hurriedly; whiles did he angrily threaten.<br />Vainly, +for these would not to the ships, to the Hellespont spacious,<br />Backward +turn, nor be whipped to the battle among the Achaians.<br />Nay, as +a pillar remains immovable, fixed on the tombstone,<br />Haply, of some +dead man or it may be a woman there-under;<br />Even like hard stood +they there attached to the glorious war-car,<br />Earthward bowed with +their heads; and of them so lamenting incessant<br />Ran the hot teardrops +downward on to the earth from their eyelids,<br />Mourning their charioteer; +all their lustrous manes dusty-clotted,<br />Right side and left of +the yoke-ring tossed, to the breadth of the yoke-bow.<br />Now when +the issue of Kronos beheld that sorrow, his head shook<br />Pitying +them for their grief, these words then he spake in his bosom;<br />“Why, +ye hapless, gave we to Peleus you, to a mortal<br />Master; ye that +are ageless both, ye both of you deathless!<br />Was it that ye among +men most wretched should come to have heart-grief?<br />’Tis most +true, than the race of these men is there wretcheder nowhere<br />Aught +over earth’s range found that is gifted with breath and has movement.”</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<h3>Poem: The Mares Of The Camargue</h3> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> +<p>[From the <i>Mirèio</i> of Mistral]</p> +<p>A hundred mares, all white! their manes<br />Like mace-reed of the +marshy plains<br />Thick-tufted, wavy, free o’ the shears:<br />And +when the fiery squadron rears<br />Bursting at speed, each mane appears<br />Even +as the white scarf of a fay<br />Floating upon their necks along the +heavens away.</p> +<p>O race of humankind, take shame!<br />For never yet a hand could +tame,<br />Nor bitter spur that rips the flanks subdue<br />The mares +of the Camargue. I have known,<br />By treason snared, some captives +shown;<br />Expatriate from their native Rhone,<br />Led off, their +saline pastures far from view:</p> +<p>And on a day, with prompt rebound,<br />They have flung their riders +to the ground,<br />And at a single gallop, scouring free,<br />Wide-nostril’d +to the wind, twice ten<br />Of long marsh-leagues devour’d, and +then,<br />Back to the Vacarés again,<br />After ten years of +slavery just to breathe salt sea</p> +<p>For of this savage race unbent,<br />The ocean is the element.<br />Of +old escaped from Neptune’s car, full sure,<br />Still with the +white foam fleck’d are they,<br />And when the sea puffs black +from grey,<br />And ships part cables, loudly neigh<br />The stallions +of Camargue, all joyful in the roar;</p> +<p>And keen as a whip they lash and crack<br />Their tails that drag +the dust, and back<br />Scratch up the earth, and feel, entering their +flesh, where he,<br />The God, drives deep his trident teeth,<br />Who +in one horror, above, beneath,<br />Bids storm and watery deluge seethe,<br />And +shatters to their depths the abysses of the sea.</p> +<p>Cant. iv.</p> +<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> +<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, A READING OF LIFE, AND OTHER POEMS ***</p> +<pre> + +******This file should be named rdlif10h.htm or rdlif10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, rdlif11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, rdlif10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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