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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15378-8.txt b/15378-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bbe2163 --- /dev/null +++ b/15378-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3941 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Atalanta in Calydon, by Algernon Charles +Swinburne + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Atalanta in Calydon + +Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Release Date: March 16, 2005 [eBook #15378] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATALANTA IN CALYDON*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +ATALANTA IN CALYDON + +A Tragedy + +by + +ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE + +A New Edition + + + + + + + +Tous zontas eu dran. katthanon de pas aner Ge kai skia. to meden eis +ouden repei + +EUR. _Fr. Mel._ 20 (537). + + + + +London: +Chatto & Windus, Piccadilly +Printed by Spottiswoode and Co., New-Street Square and Parliament Street + +1885 + + + + +TO THE MEMORY + +OF + +WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR + + +I NOW DEDICATE, WITH EQUAL AFFECTION, REVERENCE, AND REGRET, A POEM +INSCRIBED TO HIM WHILE YET ALIVE IN WORDS WHICH ARE NOW RETAINED +BECAUSE THEY WERE LAID BEFORE HIM; AND TO WHICH, RATHER THAN CANCEL +THEM, I HAVE ADDED SUCH OTHERS AS WERE EVOKED BY THE NEWS OF HIS DEATH: +THAT THOUGH LOSING THE PLEASURE I MAY NOT LOSE THE HONOUR OF INSCRIBING +IN FRONT OF MY WORK THE HIGHEST OF CONTEMPORARY NAMES. + + + + + oixeo de Boreethen apotropos' alla se Numphai + egagon aspasian edupnooi kath' ala, + plerousai melitos theothen stoma, me ti Poseidon + blapsei, en osin exon sen meligerun opa. + toios aoidos ephus: emeis d' eti klaiomen, oi sou + deuometh' oixomenou, kai se pothoumen aei. + eipe de Pieridon tis anastrephtheisa pros allen: + elthen, idou, panton philtatos elthe broton, + stemmata drepsamenos neothelea xersi geraiais, + kai polion daphnais amphekalupse kara, 10 + edu ti Sikelikais epi pektisin, edu ti xordais, + aisomenos: pollen gar meteballe luran, + pollaki d' en bessaisi kathemenon euren Apollon, + anthesi d' estepsen, terpna d' edoke legein, + Pana t' aeimneston te Pitun Koruthon te dusedron, + en t' ephilese thean thnetos Amadruada: + pontou d' en megaroisin ekoimise Kumodameian, + ten t' Agamemnonian paid' apedoke patri, + pros d' ierous Delphous theoplekton epempsen Oresten, + teiromenon stugerais entha kai entha theais. 20 + + + + + oixeo de kai aneuthe philon kai aneuthen aoides, + drepsomenos malakes anthea Persephones. + oixeo: kouk et' esei, kouk au pote soi paredoumai + azomenos, xeiron xersi thigon osiais: + nun d' au mnesamenon glukupikros upeluthen aidos, + oia tuxon oiou pros sethen oios exo: + oupote sois, geron, omma philois philon ommasi terpso, + ses, geron, apsamenos, philtate, dechiteras. + e psaphara konis, e psapharos bios esti: ti touton + meion ephemerion; ou konis alla bios. 10 + alla moi eduteros ge peleis polu ton et' eonton, + epleo gar: soi men tauta thanonti phero, + paura men, all' apo keros etetuma: med' apotrephtheis, + pros de balon eti nun esuxon omma dexou. + ou gar exo, mega de ti thelon, sethen achia dounai, + thaptomenou per apon: ou gar enestin emoi: + oude melikretou parexein ganos : ei gar eneie + kai se xeroin psausai kai se pot' authis idein, + dakrusi te spondais te kara philon amphipoleuein + ophthalmous th' ierous sous ieron te demas. 20 + eith' ophelon: mala gar tad' an ampauseie merimnes: + nun de prosothen aneu sematos oikton ago: + oud' epitumbidion threno melos, all' apamuntheis, + all' apaneuthen exon amphidakruta pathe. + alla su xaire thanon, kai exon geras isthi pros andron + pros te theon, enerois ei tis epesti theos. + xaire geron, phile xaire pater, polu phertat' aoidon + on idomen, polu de phertat' aeisomenon: + xaire, kai olbon exois, oion ge thanontes exousin, + esuxian exthras kai philotetos ater. 30 + sematos oixomenou soi mnemat' es usteron estai, + soi te phile mneme mnematos oixomenou: + on Xarites klaiousi theai, klaiei d' Aphrodite + kallixorois Mouson terpsamene stephanois. + ou gar apach ierous pote geras etripsen aoidous: + tende to son phainei mnema tod' aglaian. + e philos es makaressi brotos, soi d' ei tini Numphai + dora potheina nemein, ustata dor', edosan. + tas nun xalkeos upnos ebe kai anenemos aion, + kai sunthaptomenai moiran exousi mian. 40 + eudeis kai su, kalon kai agakluton en xthoni koilei + upnon ephikomenos, ses aponosphi patras, + tele para chanthou Tursenikon oidma katheudeis + namatos, e d' eti se maia se gaia pothei, + all' apexeis, kai prosthe philoptolis on per apeipas: + eude: makar d' emin oud' amegartos esei. + baios epixthonion ge xronos kai moira kratesei, + tous de pot' euphrosune tous de pot' algos exei: + pollaki d' e blaptei phaos e skotos amphikaluptei + muromenous, daknei d' upnos egregorotas: 50 + oud' eth' ot' en tumboisi katedrathen omma thanonton + e skotos e ti phaos dechetai eeliou: + oud' onar ennuxion kai enupnion oud' upar estai + e pote terpomenois e pot' oduromenois: + all' ena pantes aei thakon sunexousi kai edran + anti brotes abroton, kallimon anti kakes. + + + + +ATALANTA IN CALYDON. + + + + +THE PERSONS. + + + CHIEF HUNTSMAN. + CHORUS. + ALTHAEA. + MELEAGER + OENEUS. + ATALANTA. + TOXEUS. + PLEXIPPUS. + HERALD. + MESSENGER. + SECOND MESSENGER. + + + + + isto d' ostis oux upopteros + phrontisin daeis, + tan a paidolumas talaina THestias mesato + purdae tina pronoian, + kataithousa paidos daphoinon + dalon elik', epei molon + matrothen keladese; + summetron te diai biou + moirokranton es amar. + + Aesch. Cho. 602-612 + + + + +THE ARGUMENT. + +Althaea, daughter of Thestius and Eurythemis, queen of Calydon, being +with child of Meleager her first-born son, dreamed that she brought +forth a brand burning; and upon his birth came the three Fates and +prophesied of him three things, namely these; that he should have great +strength of his hands, and good fortune in this life, and that he +should live no longer when the brand then in the fire were consumed: +wherefore his mother plucked it forth and kept it by her. And the +child being a man grown sailed with Jason after the fleece of gold, and +won himself great praise of all men living; and when the tribes of the +north and west made war upon Aetolia, he fought against their army and +scattered it. But Artemis, having at the first stirred up these tribes +to war against Oeneus king of Calydon, because he had offered sacrifice +to all the gods saving her alone, but her he had forgotten to honour, +was yet more wroth because of the destruction of this army, and sent +upon the land of Calydon a wild boar which slew many and wasted all +their increase, but him could none slay, and many went against him and +perished. Then were all the chief men of Greece gathered together, and +among them Atalanta daughter of Iasius the Arcadian, a virgin, for +whose sake Artemis let slay the boar, seeing she favoured the maiden +greatly; and Meleager having despatched it gave the spoil thereof to +Atalanta, as one beyond measure enamoured of her; but the brethren of +Althaea his mother, Toxeus and Plexippus, with such others as misliked +that she only should bear off the praise whereas many had borne the +labour, laid wait for her to take away her spoil; but Meleager fought +against them and slew them: whom when Althaea their sister beheld and +knew to be slain of her son, she waxed for wrath and sorrow like as one +mad, and taking the brand whereby the measure of her son's life was +meted to him, she cast it upon a fire; and with the wasting thereof his +life likewise wasted away, that being brought back to his father's +house he died in a brief space, and his mother also endured not long +after for very sorrow; and this was his end, and the end of that +hunting. + + + + + ATALANTA IN CALYDON. + + + CHIEF HUNTSMAN. + + Maiden, and mistress of the months and stars + Now folded in the flowerless fields of heaven, + Goddess whom all gods love with threefold heart, + Being treble in thy divided deity, + A light for dead men and dark hours, a foot + Swift on the hills as morning, and a hand + To all things fierce and fleet that roar and range + Mortal, with gentler shafts than snow or sleep; + Hear now and help and lift no violent hand, + But favourable and fair as thine eye's beam + Hidden and shown in heaven, for I all night + Amid the king's hounds and the hunting men + Have wrought and worshipped toward thee; nor shall man + See goodlier hounds or deadlier edge of spears, + But for the end, that lies unreached at yet + Between the hands and on the knees of gods, + O fair-faced sun killing the stars and dews + And dreams and desolation of the night! + Rise up, shine, stretch thine hand out, with thy bow + Touch the most dimmest height of trembling heaven, + And burn and break the dark about thy ways, + Shot through and through with arrows; let thine hair + Lighten as flame above that nameless shell + Which was the moon, and thine eyes fill the world + And thy lips kindle with swift beams; let earth + Laugh, and the long sea fiery from thy feet + Through all the roar and ripple of streaming springs + And foam in reddening flakes and flying flowers + Shaken from hands and blown from lips of nymphs + Whose hair or breast divides the wandering wave + With salt close tresses cleaving lock to lock, + All gold, or shuddering and unfurrowed snow; + And all the winds about thee with their wings, + And fountain-heads of all the watered world; + Each horn of Acheloüs, and the green + Euenus, wedded with the straitening sea. + For in fair time thou comest; come also thou, + Twin-born with him, and virgin, Artemis, + And give our spears their spoil, the wild boar's hide. + Sent in thine anger against us for sin done + And bloodless altars without wine or fire. + Him now consume thou; for thy sacrifice + With sanguine-shining steam divides the dawn, + And one, the maiden rose of all thy maids, + Arcadian Atalanta, snowy-souled, + Fair as the snow and footed as the wind, + From Ladon and well-wooded Maenalus + Over the firm hills and the fleeting sea + Hast thou drawn hither, and many an armèd king, + Heroes, the crown of men, like gods in fight. + Moreover out of all the Aetolian land, + From the full-flowered Lelantian pasturage + To what of fruitful field the son of Zeus + Won from the roaring river and labouring sea + When the wild god shrank in his horn and fled + And foamed and lessened through his wrathful fords, + Leaving clear lands that steamed with sudden sun, + These virgins with the lightening of the day + Bring thee fresh wreaths and their own sweeter hair, + Luxurious locks and flower-like mixed with flowers, + Clean offering, and chaste hymns; but me the time + Divides from these things; whom do thou not less + Help and give honour, and to mine hounds good speed, + And edge to spears, and luck to each man's hand. + + + CHORUS. + + When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, + The mother of months in meadow or plain + Fills the shadows and windy places + With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; + And the brown bright nightingale amorous + Is half assuaged for Itylus, + For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, + The tongueless vigil, and all the pain. + + Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers. + Maiden most perfect, lady of light, + With a noise of winds and many rivers, + With a clamour of waters, and with might; + Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, + Over the splendour and speed of thy feet; + For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers, + Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. + + Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her, + Fold our hands round her knees, and cling? + O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her, + Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring! + For the stars and the winds are unto her + As raiment, as songs of the harp-player; + For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her, + And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing. + + For winter's rains and ruins are over, + And all the season of snows, and sins; + The days dividing lover and lover, + The light that loses, the night that wins; + And time remembered is grief forgotten, + And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, + And in green underwood and cover + Blossom by blossom the spring begins. + + The full streams feed on flower of rushes, + Ripe grasses trammel a travelling foot, + The faint fresh flame of the young year flushes + From leaf to flower and flower to fruit, + And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire, + And the oat is heard above the lyre, + And the hoofèd heel of a satyr crushes + The chestnut-husk at the chestnut-root. + + And Pan by noon and Bacchus by night, + Fleeter of foot than the fleet-foot kid, + Follows with dancing and fills with delight + The Maenad and the Bassarid; + And soft as lips that laugh and hide + The laughing leaves of the trees divide, + And screen from seeing and leave in sight + The god pursuing, the maiden hid. + + The ivy falls with the Bacchanal's hair + Over her eyebrows hiding her eyes; + The wild vine slipping down leaves bare + Her bright breast shortening into sighs; + The wild vine slips with the weight of its leaves. + But the berried ivy catches and cleaves + To the limbs that glitter, the feet that scare + The wolf that follows, the fawn that flies. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What do ye singing? what is this ye sing? + + + CHORUS. + + Flowers bring we, and pure lips that please the gods, + And raiment meet for service: lest the day + Turn sharp with all its honey in our lips. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Night, a black hound, follows the white fawn day, + Swifter than dreams the white flown feet of sleep; + Will ye pray back the night with any prayers? + And though the spring put back a little while + Winter, and snows that plague all men for sin, + And the iron time of cursing, yet I know + Spring shall be ruined with the rain, and storm + Eat up like fire the ashen autumn days. + I marvel what men do with prayers awake + Who dream and die with dreaming; any god, + Yea the least god of all things called divine, + Is more than sleep and waking; yet we say, + Perchance by praying a man shall match his god. + For if sleep have no mercy, and man's dreams + Bite to the blood and burn into the bone, + What shall this man do waking? By the gods, + He shall not pray to dream sweet things to-night, + Having dreamt once more bitter things than death. + + + CHORUS. + + Queen, but what is it that hath burnt thine heart? + For thy speech flickers like a brown-out flame. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look, ye say well, and know not what ye say, + For all my sleep is turned into a fire, + And all my dreams to stuff that kindles it. + + + CHORUS. + + Yet one doth well being patient of the gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, lest they smite us with some four-foot plague. + + + CHORUS. + + But when time spreads find out some herb for it. + + + ALTHAEA. + + And with their healing herbs infect our blood. + + + CHORUS. + + What ails thee to be jealous of their ways? + + + ALTHAEA. + + What if they give us poisonous drinks for wine? + + + CHORUS. + + They have their will; much talking mends it not. + + + ALTHAEA. + + And gall for milk, and cursing for a prayer? + + + CHORUS. + + Have they not given life, and the end of life? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Lo, where they heal, they help not; thus they do, + They mock us with a little piteousness, + And we say prayers, and weep; but at the last, + Sparing awhile, they smite and spare no whit. + + + CHORUS. + + Small praise man gets dispraising the high gods: + What have they done that thou dishonourest them? + + + ALTHAEA. + + First Artemis for all this harried land + I praise not; and for wasting of the boar + That mars with tooth and tusk and fiery feet + Green pasturage and the grace of standing corn + And meadow and marsh with springs and unblown leaves, + Flocks and swift herds and all that bite sweet grass, + I praise her not, what things are these to praise? + + + CHORUS. + + But when the king did sacrifice, and gave + Each god fair dues of wheat and blood and wine, + Her not with bloodshed nor burnt-offering + Revered he, nor with salt or cloven cake; + Wherefore being wroth she plagued the land, but now + Takes off from us fate and her heavy things. + Which deed of these twain were not good to praise? + For a just deed looks always either way + With blameless eyes, and mercy is no fault. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, but a curse she hath sent above all these + To hurt us where she healed us; and hath lit + Fire where the old fire went out, and where the wind + Slackened, hath blown on us with deadlier air. + + + CHORUS. + + What storm is this that tightens all our sail? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Love, a thwart sea-wind full of rain and foam. + + + CHORUS. + + Whence blown, and born under what stormier star? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Southward across Euenus from the sea. + + + CHORUS. + + Thy speech turns toward Arcadia like blown wind. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Sharp as the north sets when the snows are out. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, for this maiden hath no touch of love. + + ALTHAEA. + + I would she had sought in some cold gulf of sea + Love, or in dens where strange beasts lurk, or fire, + Or snows on the extreme hills, or iron land + Where no spring is; I would she had sought therein + And found, or ever love had found her here. + + + CHORUS. + + She is holier than all holy days or things, + The sprinkled water or fume of perfect fire; + Chaste, dedicated to pure prayers, and filled + With higher thoughts than heaven; a maiden clean, + Pure iron, fashioned for a sword, and man + She loves not; what should one such do with love? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look you, I speak not as one light of wit, + But as a queen speaks, being heart-vexed; for oft + I hear my brothers wrangling in mid hall, + And am not moved; and my son chiding them, + And these things nowise move me, but I know + Foolish and wise men must be to the end, + And feed myself with patience; but this most, + This moves me, that for wise men as for fools + Love is one thing, an evil thing, and turns + Choice words and wisdom into fire and air. + And in the end shall no joy come, but grief, + Sharp words and soul's division and fresh tears + Flower-wise upon the old root of tears brought forth, + Fruit-wise upon the old flower of tears sprung up, + Pitiful sighs, and much regrafted pain. + These things are in my presage, and myself + Am part of them and know not; but in dreams + The gods are heavy on me, and all the fates + Shed fire across my eyelids mixed with night, + And burn me blind, and disilluminate + My sense of seeing, and my perspicuous soul + Darken with vision; seeing I see not, hear + And hearing am not holpen, but mine eyes + Stain many tender broideries in the bed + Drawn up about my face that I may weep + And the king wake not; and my brows and lips + Tremble and sob in sleeping, like swift flames + That tremble, or water when it sobs with heat + Kindled from under; and my tears fill my breast + And speck the fair dyed pillows round the king + With barren showers and salter than the sea, + Such dreams divide me dreaming; for long since + I dreamed that out of this my womb had sprung + Fire and a firebrand; this was ere my son, + Meleager, a goodly flower in fields of fight, + Felt the light touch him coming forth, and waited + Childlike; but yet he was not; and in time + I bare him, and my heart was great; for yet + So royally was never strong man born, + Nor queen so nobly bore as noble a thing + As this my son was: such a birth God sent + And such a grace to bear it. Then came in + Three weaving women, and span each a thread, + Saying This for strength and That for luck, and one + Saying Till the brand upon the hearth burn down, + So long shall this man see good days and live. + And I with gathered raiment from the bed + Sprang, and drew forth the brand, and cast on it + Water, and trod the flame bare-foot, and crushed + With naked hand spark beaten out of spark + And blew against and quenched it; for I said, + These are the most high Fates that dwell with us, + And we find favour a little in their sight, + A little, and more we miss of, and much time + Foils us; howbeit they have pitied me, O son, + And thee most piteous, thee a tenderer thing + Than any flower of fleshly seed alive. + Wherefore I kissed and hid him with my hands, + And covered under arms and hair, and wept, + And feared to touch him with my tears, and laughed; + So light a thing was this man, grown so great + Men cast their heads back, seeing against the sun + Blaze the armed man carven on his shield, and hear + The laughter of little bells along the brace + Ring, as birds singing or flutes blown, and watch, + High up, the cloven shadow of either plume + Divide the bright light of the brass, and make + His helmet as a windy and wintering moon + Seen through blown cloud and plume-like drift, when ships + Drive, and men strive with all the sea, and oars + Break, and the beaks dip under, drinking death; + Yet was he then but a span long, and moaned + With inarticulate mouth inseparate words, + And with blind lips and fingers wrung my breast + Hard, and thrust out with foolish hands and feet, + Murmuring; but those grey women with bound hair + Who fright the gods frighted not him; he laughed + Seeing them, and pushed out hands to feel and haul + Distaff and thread, intangible; but they + Passed, and I hid the brand, and in my heart + Laughed likewise, having all my will of heaven. + But now I know not if to left or right + The gods have drawn us hither; for again + I dreamt, and saw the black brand burst on fire + As a branch bursts in flower, and saw the flame + Fade flower-wise, and Death came and with dry lips + Blew the charred ash into my breast; and Love + Trampled the ember and crushed it with swift feet + This I have also at heart; that not for me, + Not for me only or son of mine, O girls, + The gods have wrought life, and desire of life, + Heart's love and heart's division; but for all + There shines one sun and one wind blows till night. + And when night comes the wind sinks and the sun, + And there is no light after, and no storm, + But sleep and much forgetfulness of things. + In such wise I gat knowledge of the gods + Years hence, and heard high sayings of one most wise, + Eurythemis my mother, who beheld + With eyes alive and spake with lips of these + As one on earth disfleshed and disallied + From breath or blood corruptible; such gifts + Time gave her, and an equal soul to these + And equal face to all things, thus she said. + But whatsoever intolerable or glad + The swift hours weave and unweave, I go hence + Full of mine own soul, perfect of myself, + Toward mine and me sufficient; and what chance + The gods cast lots for and shake out on us, + That shall we take, and that much bear withal. + And now, before these gather to the hunt, + I will go arm my son and bring him forth, + Lest love or some man's anger work him harm. + + + CHORUS. + + Before the beginning of years + There came to the making of man + Time, with a gift of tears, + Grief, with a glass that ran; + Pleasure, with pain for leaven; + Summer, with flowers that fell; + Remembrance fallen from heaven, + And madness risen from hell; + Strength without hands to smite, + Love that endures for a breath, + Night, the shadow of light, + And life, the shadow of death. + + And the high gods took in hand + Fire, and the falling of tears, + And a measure of sliding sand + From under the feet of the years, + And froth and drift of the sea; + And dust of the labouring earth; + And bodies of things to be + In the houses of death and of birth; + And wrought with weeping and laughter, + And fashioned with loathing and love, + With life before and after + And death beneath and above, + For a day and a night and a morrow, + That his strength might endure for a span + With travail and heavy sorrow, + The holy spirit of man. + + From the winds of the north and the south + They gathered as unto strife; + They breathed upon his mouth, + They filled his body with life; + Eyesight and speech they wrought + For the veils of the soul therein, + A time for labour and thought, + A time to serve and to sin; + They gave him light in his ways, + And love, and a space for delight, + And beauty and length of days, + And night, and sleep in the night. + His speech is a burning fire; + With his lips he travaileth, + In his heart is a blind desire, + In his eyes foreknowledge of death; + He weaves, and is clothed with derision; + Sows, and he shall not reap, + His life is a watch or a vision + Between a sleep and a sleep. + + + MELEAGER. + + O sweet new heaven and air without a star, + Fair day, be fair and welcome, as to men + With deeds to do and praise to pluck from thee, + Come forth a child, born with clear sound and light, + With laughter and swift limbs and prosperous looks; + That this great hunt with heroes for the hounds + May leave thee memorable and us well sped. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Son, first I praise thy prayer, then bid thee speed; + But the gods hear men's hands before their lips, + And heed beyond all crying and sacrifice + Light of things done and noise of labouring men. + But thou, being armed and perfect for the deed, + Abide; for like rain-flakes in a wind they grow, + The men thy fellows, and the choice of the world, + Bound to root out the tusked plague, and leave + Thanks and safe days and peace in Calydon. + + + MELEAGER. + + For the whole city and all the low-lying land + Flames, and the soft air sounds with them that come; + The gods give all these fruit of all their works. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Set thine eye thither and fix thy spirit and say + Whom there thou knowest; for sharp mixed shadow and wind + Blown up between the morning and the mist, + With steam of steeds and flash of bridle or wheel, + And fire, and parcels of the broken dawn, + And dust divided by hard light, and spears + That shine and shift as the edge of wild beasts' eyes, + Smite upon mine; so fiery their blind edge + Burns, and bright points break up and baffle day. + + + MELEAGER. + + The first, for many I know not, being far off, + Peleus the Larissaean, couched with whom + Sleeps the white sea-bred wife and silver-shod, + Fair as fled foam, a goddess; and their son + Most swift and splendid of men's children born, + Most like a god, full of the future fame. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Who are these shining like one sundered star? + + + MELEAGER. + + Thy sister's sons, a double flower of men. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O sweetest kin to me in all the world, + O twin-born blood of Leda, gracious heads + Like kindled lights in untempestuous heaven, + Fair flower-like stars on the iron foam of fight, + With what glad heart and kindliness of soul, + Even to the staining of both eyes with tears + And kindling of warm eyelids with desire, + A great way off I greet you, and rejoice + Seeing you so fair, and moulded like as gods. + Far off ye come, and least in years of these, + But lordliest, but worth love to look upon. + + + MELEAGER. + + Even such (for sailing hither I saw far hence, + And where Eurotas hollows his moist rock + Nigh Sparta with a strenuous-hearted stream) + Even such I saw their sisters; one swan-white, + The little Helen, and less fair than she + Fair Clytaemnestra, grave as pasturing fawns + Who feed and fear some arrow; but at whiles, + As one smitten with love or wrung with joy, + She laughs and lightens with her eyes, and then + Weeps; whereat Helen, having laughed, weeps too, + And the other chides her, and she being chid speaks nought, + But cheeks and lips and eyelids kisses her, + Laughing; so fare they, as in their bloomless bud + And full of unblown life, the blood of gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Sweet days befall them and good loves and lords, + And tender and temperate honours of the hearth, + Peace, and a perfect life and blameless bed. + But who shows next an eagle wrought in gold? + That flames and beats broad wings against the sun + And with void mouth gapes after emptier prey? + + + MELEAGER. + + Know by that sign the reign of Telamon + Between the fierce mouths of the encountering brine + On the strait reefs of twice-washed Salamis. + + + ALTHAEA. + + For like one great of hand he bears himself, + Vine-chapleted, with savours of the sea, + Glittering as wine and moving as a wave. + But who girt round there roughly follows him? + + + MELEAGER. + + Ancaeus, great of hand, an iron bulk, + Two-edged for fight as the axe against his arm, + Who drives against the surge of stormy spears + Full-sailed; him Cepheus follows, his twin-born, + Chief name next his of all Arcadian men. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Praise be with men abroad; chaste lives with us, + Home-keeping days and household reverences. + + + MELEAGER. + + Next by the left unsandalled foot know thou + The sail and oar of this Aetolian land, + Thy brethren, Toxeus and the violent-souled + Plexippus, over-swift with hand and tongue; + For hands are fruitful, but the ignorant mouth + Blows and corrupts their work with barren breath. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Speech too bears fruit, being worthy; and air blows down + Things poisonous, and high-seated violences, + And with charmed words and songs have men put out + Wild evil, and the fire of tyrannies. + + + MELEAGER. + + Yea, all things have they, save the gods and love. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Love thou the law and cleave to things ordained. + + + MELEAGER. + + Law lives upon their lips whom these applaud. + + + ALTHAEA. + + How sayest thou these? what god applauds new things? + + + MELEAGER. + + Zeus, who hath fear and custom under foot. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But loves not laws thrown down and lives awry. + + + MELEAGER. + + Yet is not less himself than his own law. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Nor shifts and shuffles old things up and down. + + + MELEAGER. + + But what he will remoulds and discreates. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Much, but not this, that each thing live its life. + + + MELEAGER. + + Nor only live, but lighten and lift up higher. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Pride breaks itself, and too much gained is gone. + + + MELEAGER. + + Things gained are gone, but great things done endure. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Child, if a man serve law through all his life + And with his whole heart worship, him all gods + Praise; but who loves it only with his lips, + And not in heart and deed desiring it + Hides a perverse will with obsequious words, + Him heaven infatuates and his twin-born fate + Tracks, and gains on him, scenting sins far off, + And the swift hounds of violent death devour. + Be man at one with equal-minded gods, + So shall he prosper; not through laws torn up, + Violated rule and a new face of things. + A woman armed makes war upon herself, + Unwomanlike, and treads down use and wont + And the sweet common honour that she hath, + Love, and the cry of children, and the hand + Trothplight and mutual mouth of marriages. + This doth she, being unloved, whom if one love, + Not fire nor iron and the wide-mouthed wars + Are deadlier than her lips or braided hair. + For of the one comes poison, and a curse + Falls from the other and burns the lives of men. + But thou, son, be not filled with evil dreams, + Nor with desire of these things; for with time + Blind love burns out; but if one feed it full + Till some discolouring stain dyes all his life, + He shall keep nothing praiseworthy, nor die + The sweet wise death of old men honourable, + Who have lived out all the length of all their years + Blameless, and seen well-pleased the face of gods, + And without shame and without fear have wrought + Things memorable, and while their days held out + In sight of all men and the sun's great light + Have gat them glory and given of their own praise + To the earth that bare them and the day that bred, + Home friends and far-off hospitalities, + And filled with gracious and memorial fame + Lands loved of summer or washed by violent seas, + Towns populous and many unfooted ways, + And alien lips and native with their own. + But when white age and venerable death + Mow down the strength and life within their limbs, + Drain out the blood and darken their clear eyes, + Immortal honour is on them, having past + Through splendid life and death desirable + To the clear seat and remote throne of souls, + Lands indiscoverable in the unheard-of west, + Round which the strong stream of a sacred sea + Rolls without wind for ever, and the snow + There shows not her white wings and windy feet, + Nor thunder nor swift rain saith anything, + Nor the sun burns, but all things rest and thrive; + And these, filled full of days, divine and dead, + Sages and singers fiery from the god, + And such as loved their land and all things good + And, best beloved of best men, liberty, + Free lives and lips, free hands of men free-born, + And whatsoever on earth was honourable + And whosoever of all the ephemeral seed, + Live there a life no liker to the gods + But nearer than their life of terrene days. + Love thou such life and look for such a death. + But from the light and fiery dreams of love + Spring heavy sorrows and a sleepless life, + Visions not dreams, whose lids no charm shall close + Nor song assuage them waking; and swift death + Crushes with sterile feet the unripening ear, + Treads out the timeless vintage; whom do thou + Eschewing embrace the luck of this thy life, + Not without honour; and it shall bear to thee + Such fruit as men reap from spent hours and wear, + Few men, but happy; of whom be thou, O son, + Happiest, if thou submit thy soul to fate, + And set thine eyes and heart on hopes high-born + And divine deeds and abstinence divine. + So shalt thou be toward all men all thy days + As light and might communicable, and burn + From heaven among the stars above the hours, + And break not as a man breaks nor burn down: + For to whom other of all heroic names + Have the gods given his life in hand as thine? + And gloriously hast thou lived, and made thy life + To me that bare thee and to all men born + Thankworthy, a praise for ever; and hast won fame + When wild wars broke all round thy father's house, + And the mad people of windy mountain ways + Laid spears against us like a sea, and all + Aetolia thundered with Thessalian hoofs; + Yet these, as wind baffles the foam, and beats + Straight back the relaxed ripple, didst thou break + And loosen all their lances, till undone + And man from man they fell; for ye twain stood + God against god, Ares and Artemis, + And thou the mightier; wherefore she unleashed + A sharp-toothed curse thou too shalt overcome; + For in the greener blossom of thy life + Ere the full blade caught flower, and when time gave + Respite, thou didst not slacken soul nor sleep, + But with great hand and heart seek praise of men + Out of sharp straits and many a grievous thing, + Seeing the strange foam of undivided seas + On channels never sailed in, and by shores + Where the old winds cease not blowing, and all the night + Thunders, and day is no delight to men. + + + CHORUS. + + Meleager, a noble wisdom and fair words + The gods have given this woman, hear thou these. + + + MELEAGER. + + O mother, I am not fain to strive in speech + Nor set my mouth against thee, who art wise + Even as they say and full of sacred words. + But one thing I know surely, and cleave to this; + That though I be not subtle of wit as thou + Nor womanlike to weave sweet words, and melt + Mutable minds of wise men as with fire, + I too, doing justly and reverencing the gods, + Shall not want wit to see what things be right. + For whom they love and whom reject, being gods, + There is no man but seeth, and in good time + Submits himself, refraining all his heart. + And I too as thou sayest have seen great things; + Seen otherwhere, but chiefly when the sail + First caught between stretched ropes the roaring west, + And all our oars smote eastward, and the wind + First flung round faces of seafaring men + White splendid snow-flakes of the sundering foam, + And the first furrow in virginal green sea + Followed the plunging ploughshare of hewn pine, + And closed, as when deep sleep subdues man's breath + Lips close and heart subsides; and closing, shone + Sunlike with many a Nereid's hair, and moved + Round many a trembling mouth of doubtful gods, + Risen out of sunless and sonorous gulfs + Through waning water and into shallow light, + That watched us; and when flying the dove was snared + As with men's hands, but we shot after and sped + Clear through the irremeable Symplegades; + And chiefliest when hoar beach and herbless cliff + Stood out ahead from Colchis, and we heard + Clefts hoarse with wind, and saw through narrowing reefs + The lightning of the intolerable wave + Flash, and the white wet flame of breakers burn + Far under a kindling south-wind, as a lamp + Burns and bends all its blowing flame one way; + Wild heights untravelled of the wind, and vales + Cloven seaward by their violent streams, and white + With bitter flowers and bright salt scurf of brine; + Heard sweep their sharp swift gales, and bowing bird-wise + Shriek with birds' voices, and with furious feet + Tread loose the long skirts of a storm; and saw + The whole white Euxine clash together and fall + Full-mouthed, and thunderous from a thousand throats; + Yet we drew thither and won the fleece and won + Medea, deadlier than the sea; but there + Seeing many a wonder and fearful things to men + I saw not one thing like this one seen here, + Most fair and fearful, feminine, a god, + Faultless; whom I that love not, being unlike, + Fear, and give honour, and choose from all the gods. + + + OENEUS. + + Lady, the daughter of Thestius, and thou, son, + Not ignorant of your strife nor light of wit, + Scared with vain dreams and fluttering like spent fire, + I come to judge between you, but a king + Full of past days and wise from years endured. + Nor thee I praise, who art fain to undo things done; + Nor thee, who art swift to esteem them overmuch. + For what the hours have given is given, and this + Changeless; howbeit these change, and in good time + Devise new things and good, not one thing still. + Us have they sent now at our need for help + Among men armed a woman, foreign born, + Virgin, not like the natural flower of things + That grows and bears and brings forth fruit and dies, + Unlovable, no light for a husband's house, + Espoused; a glory among unwedded girls, + And chosen of gods who reverence maidenhood. + These too we honour in honouring her; but thou, + Abstain thy feet from following, and thine eyes + From amorous touch; nor set toward hers thine heart, + Son, lest hate bear no deadlier fruit than love. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O king, thou art wise, but wisdom halts, and just, + But the gods love not justice more than fate, + And smite the righteous and the violent mouth, + And mix with insolent blood the reverent man's, + And bruise the holier as the lying lips. + Enough; for wise words fail me, and my heart + Takes fire and trembles flamewise, O my son, + O child, for thine head's sake; mine eyes wax thick, + Turning toward thee, so goodly a weaponed man, + So glorious; and for love of thine own eyes + They are darkened, and tears burn them, fierce as fire, + And my lips pause and my soul sinks with love. + But by thine hand, by thy sweet life and eyes, + By thy great heart and these clasped knees, O son, + I pray thee that thou slay me not with thee. + For there was never a mother woman-born + Loved her sons better; and never a queen of men + More perfect in her heart toward whom she loved. + For what lies light on many and they forget, + Small things and transitory as a wind o' the sea, + I forget never; I have seen thee all thine years + A man in arms, strong and a joy to men + Seeing thine head glitter and thine hand burn its way + Through a heavy and iron furrow of sundering spears; + But always also a flower of three suns old, + The small one thing that lying drew down my life + To lie with thee and feed thee; a child and weak, + Mine, a delight to no man, sweet to me. + Who then sought to thee? who gat help? who knew + If thou wert goodly? nay, no man at all. + Or what sea saw thee, or sounded with thine oar, + Child? or what strange land shone with war through thee? + But fair for me thou wert, O little life, + Fruitless, the fruit of mine own flesh, and blind, + More than much gold, ungrown, a foolish flower. + For silver nor bright snow nor feather of foam + Was whiter, and no gold yellower than thine hair, + O child, my child; and now thou art lordlier grown, + Not lovelier, nor a new thing in mine eyes, + I charge thee by thy soul and this my breast, + Fear thou the gods and me and thine own heart, + Lest all these turn against thee; for who knows + What wind upon what wave of altering time + Shall speak a storm and blow calamity? + And there is nothing stabile in the world + But the gods break it; yet not less, fair son, + If but one thing be stronger, if one endure, + Surely the bitter and the rooted love + That burns between us, going from me to thee, + Shall more endure than all things. What dost thou, + Following strange loves? why wilt thou kill mine heart? + Lo, I talk wild and windy words, and fall + From my clear wits, and seem of mine own self + Dethroned, dispraised, disseated; and my mind, + That was my crown, breaks, and mine heart is gone, + And I am naked of my soul, and stand + Ashamed, as a mean woman; take thou thought: + Live if thou wilt, and if thou wilt not, look, + The gods have given thee life to lose or keep, + Thou shalt not die as men die, but thine end + Fallen upon thee shall break me unaware. + + + MELEAGER. + + Queen, my whole heart is molten with thy tears, + And my limbs yearn with pity of thee, and love + Compels with grief mine eyes and labouring breath: + For what thou art I know thee, and this thy breast + And thy fair eyes I worship, and am bound + Toward thee in spirit and love thee in all my soul. + For there is nothing terribler to men + Than the sweet face of mothers, and the might + But what shall be let be; for us the day + Once only lives a little, and is not found. + Time and the fruitful hour are more than we, + And these lay hold upon us; but thou, God, + Zeus, the sole steersman of the helm of things, + Father, be swift to see us, and as thou wilt + Help: or if adverse, as thou wilt, refrain. + + + CHORUS. + + We have seen thee, O Love, thou art fair, thou art goodly, O Love, + Thy wings make light in the air as the wings of a dove. + Thy feet are as winds that divide the stream of the sea; + Earth is thy covering to hide thee, the garment of thee. + Thou art swift and subtle and blind as a flame of fire; + Before thee the laughter, behind thee the tears of desire; + And twain go forth beside thee, a man with a maid; + Her eyes are the eyes of a bride whom delight makes afraid; + As the breath in the buds that stir is her bridal breath: + But Fate is the name of her; and his name is Death. + + For an evil blossom was born + Of sea-foam and the frothing of blood, + Blood-red and bitter of fruit, + And the seed of it laughter and tears, + And the leaves of it madness and scorn; + A bitter flower from the bud, + Sprung of the sea without root, + Sprung without graft from the years. + + The weft of the world was untorn + That is woven of the day on the night, + The hair of the hours was not white + Nor the raiment of time overworn, + When a wonder, a world's delight, + A perilous goddess was born, + And the waves of the sea as she came + Clove, and the foam at her feet, + Fawning, rejoiced to bring forth + A fleshly blossom, a flame + Filling the heavens with heat + To the cold white ends of the north. + + And in air the clamorous birds, + And men upon earth that hear + Sweet articulate words + Sweetly divided apart, + And in shallow and channel and mere + The rapid and footless herds, + Rejoiced, being foolish of heart. + + For all they said upon earth, + She is fair, she is white like a dove, + And the life of the world in her breath + Breathes, and is born at her birth; + For they knew thee for mother of love, + And knew thee not mother of death. + + What hadst thou to do being born, + Mother, when winds were at ease, + As a flower of the springtime of corn, + A flower of the foam of the seas? + For bitter thou wast from thy birth, + Aphrodite, a mother of strife; + For before thee some rest was on earth, + A little respite from tears, + A little pleasure of life; + For life was not then as thou art, + But as one that waxeth in years + Sweet-spoken, a fruitful wife; + Earth had no thorn, and desire + No sting, neither death any dart; + What hadst thou to do amongst these, + Thou, clothed with a burning fire, + Thou, girt with sorrow of heart, + Thou, sprung of the seed of the seas + As an ear from a seed of corn, + As a brand plucked forth of a pyre, + As a ray shed forth of the morn, + For division of soul and disease, + For a dart and a sting and a thorn? + What ailed thee then to be born? + + Was there not evil enough, + Mother, and anguish on earth + Born with a man at his birth, + Wastes underfoot, and above + Storm out of heaven, and dearth + Shaken down from the shining thereof, + Wrecks from afar overseas + And peril of shallow and firth, + And tears that spring and increase + In the barren places of mirth, + That thou, having wings as a dove, + Being girt with desire for a girth, + That thou must come after these, + That thou must lay on him love? + + Thou shouldst not so have been born: + But death should have risen with thee, + Mother, and visible fear, + Grief, and the wringing of hands, + And noise of many that mourn; + The smitten bosom, the knee + Bowed, and in each man's ear + A cry as of perishing lands, + A moan as of people in prison, + A tumult of infinite griefs; + And thunder of storm on the sands, + And wailing of wives on the shore; + And under thee newly arisen + Loud shoals and shipwrecking reefs, + Fierce air and violent light, + Sail rent and sundering oar, + Darkness; and noises of night; + Clashing of streams in the sea, + Wave against wave as a sword, + Clamour of currents, and foam, + Rains making ruin on earth, + Winds that wax ravenous and roam + As wolves in a wolfish horde; + Fruits growing faint in the tree, + And blind things dead in their birth + Famine, and blighting of corn, + When thy time was come to be born. + + All these we know of; but thee + Who shall discern or declare? + In the uttermost ends of the sea + The light of thine eyelids and hair. + The light of thy bosom as fire + Between the wheel of the sun + And the flying flames of the air? + Wilt thou turn thee not yet nor have pity, + But abide with despair and desire + And the crying of armies undone, + Lamentation of one with another + And breaking of city by city; + The dividing of friend against friend, + The severing of brother and brother; + Wilt thou utterly bring to an end? + Have mercy, mother! + + For against all men from of old + Thou hast set thine hand as a curse, + And cast out gods from their places. + These things are spoken of thee. + Strong kings and goodly with gold + Thou hast found out arrows to pierce, + And made their kingdoms and races + As dust and surf of the sea. + All these, overburdened with woes + And with length of their days waxen weak, + Thou slewest; and sentest moreover + Upon Tyro an evil thing, + Rent hair and a fetter and blows + Making bloody the flower of the cheek, + Though she lay by a god as a lover, + Though fair, and the seed of a king. + For of old, being full of thy fire, + She endured not longer to wear + On her bosom a saffron vest, + On her shoulder an ashwood quiver; + Being mixed and made one through desire + With Enipeus, and all her hair + Made moist with his mouth, and her breast + Filled full of the foam of the river. + + + ATALANTA + + Sun, and clear light among green hills, and day + Late risen and long sought after, and you just gods + Whose hands divide anguish and recompense, + But first the sun's white sister, a maid in heaven, + On earth of all maids worshipped--hail, and hear, + And witness with me if not without sign sent, + Not without rule and reverence, I a maid + Hallowed, and huntress holy as whom I serve, + Here in your sight and eyeshot of these men + Stand, girt as they toward hunting, and my shafts + Drawn; wherefore all ye stand up on my side, + If I be pure and all ye righteous gods, + Lest one revile me, a woman, yet no wife, + That bear a spear for spindle, and this bow strung + For a web woven; and with pure lips salute + Heaven, and the face of all the gods, and dawn + Filling with maiden flames and maiden flowers + The starless fold o' the stars, and making sweet + The warm wan heights of the air, moon-trodden ways + And breathless gates and extreme hills of heaven. + Whom, having offered water and bloodless gifts, + Flowers, and a golden circlet of pure hair, + Next Artemis I bid be favourable + And make this day all golden, hers and ours, + Gracious and good and white to the unblamed end. + But thou, O well-beloved, of all my days + Bid it be fruitful, and a crown for all, + To bring forth leaves and bind round all my hair + With perfect chaplets woven for thine of thee. + For not without the word of thy chaste mouth, + For not without law given and clean command, + Across the white straits of the running sea + From Elis even to the Acheloïan horn, + I with clear winds came hither and gentle gods, + Far off my father's house, and left uncheered + Iasius, and uncheered the Arcadian hills + And all their green-haired waters, and all woods + Disconsolate, to hear no horn of mine + Blown, and behold no flash of swift white feet. + + + MELEAGER. + + For thy name's sake and awe toward thy chaste head, + O holiest Atalanta, no man dares + Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise, + And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair + And holy habit of thine eyes, and feet + That make the blown foam neither swift nor white + Though the wind winnow and whirl it; yet we praise + Gods, found because of thee adorable + And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: + Thee therefore we praise also, thee as these, + Pure, and a light lit at the hands of gods. + + + TOXEUS. + + How long will ye whet spears with eloquence, + Fight, and kill beasts dry-handed with sweet words? + Cease, or talk still and slay thy boars at home. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Why, if she ride among us for a man, + Sit thou for her and spin; a man grown girl + Is worth a woman weaponed; sit thou here. + + + MELEAGER. + + Peace, and be wise; no gods love idle speech. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Nor any man a man's mouth woman-tongued. + + + MELEAGER. + + For my lips bite not sharper than mine hands. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Nay, both bite soft, but no whit softly mine. + + + MELEAGER. + + Keep thine hands clean; they have time enough to stain. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + For thine shall rest and wax not red to-day. + + + MELEAGER. + + Have all thy will of words; talk out thine heart. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Refrain your lips, O brethren, and my son, + Lest words turn snakes and bite you uttering them. + + + TOXEUS. + + Except she give her blood before the gods, + What profit shall a maid be among men? + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Let her come crowned and stretch her throat for a knife, + Bleat out her spirit and die, and so shall men + Through her too prosper and through prosperous gods; + But nowise through her living; shall she live + A flower-bud of the flower-bed, or sweet fruit + For kisses and the honey-making mouth, + And play the shield for strong men and the spear? + Then shall the heifer and her mate lock horns, + And the bride overbear the groom, and men + Gods, for no less division sunders these; + Since all things made are seasonable in time, + But if one alter unseasonable are all. + But thou, O Zeus, hear me that I may slay + This beast before thee and no man halve with me + Nor woman, lest these mock thee, though a god, + Who hast made men strong, and thou being wise be held + Foolish; for wise is that thing which endures. + + + ATALANTA. + + Men, and the chosen of all this people, and thou, + King, I beseech you a little bear with me. + For if my life be shameful that I live, + Let the gods witness and their wrath; but these + Cast no such word against me. Thou, O mine, + O holy, O happy goddess, if I sin + Changing the words of women and the works + For spears and strange men's faces, hast not thou + One shaft of all thy sudden seven that pierced + Seven through the bosom or shining throat or side, + All couched about one mother's loosening knees, + All holy born, engrafted of Tantalus? + But if toward any of you I am overbold + That take thus much upon me, let him think + How I, for all my forest holiness, + Fame, and this armed and iron maidenhood, + Pay thus much also; I shall have no man's love + For ever, and no face of children born + Or feeding lips upon me or fastening eyes + For ever, nor being dead shall kings my sons + Mourn me and bury, and tears on daughters' cheeks + Burn, but a cold and sacred life, but strange, + But far from dances and the back-blowing torch, + Far off from flowers or any bed of man, + Shall my life be for ever: me the snows + That face the first o' the morning, and cold hills + Full of the land-wind and sea-travelling storms + And many a wandering wing of noisy nights + That know the thunder and hear the thickening wolves-- + Me the utmost pine and footless frost of woods + That talk with many winds and gods, the hours + Re-risen, and white divisions of the dawn, + Springs thousand-tongued with the intermitting reed + And streams that murmur of the mother snow-- + Me these allure, and know me; but no man + Knows, and my goddess only. Lo now, see + If one of all you these things vex at all. + Would God that any of you had all the praise + And I no manner of memory when I die, + So might I show before her perfect eyes + Pure, whom I follow, a maiden to my death. + But for the rest let all have all they will; + For is it a grief to you that I have part, + Being woman merely, in your male might and deeds + Done by main strength? yet in my body is throned + As great a heart, and in my spirit, O men, + I have not less of godlike. Evil it were + That one a coward should mix with you, one hand + Fearful, one eye abase itself; and these + Well might ye hate and well revile, not me. + For not the difference of the several flesh + Being vile or noble or beautiful or base + Makes praiseworthy, but purer spirit and heart + Higher than these meaner mouths and limbs, that feed, + Rise, rest, and are and are not; and for me, + What should I say? but by the gods of the world + And this my maiden body, by all oaths + That bind the tongue of men and the evil will, + I am not mighty-minded, nor desire + Crowns, nor the spoil of slain things nor the fame; + Feed ye on these, eat and wax fat, cry out, + Laugh, having eaten, and leap without a lyre, + Sing, mix the wind with clamour, smite and shake + Sonorous timbrels and tumultuous hair, + And fill the dance up with tempestuous feet, + For I will none; but having prayed my prayers + And made thank-offering for prosperities, + I shall go hence and no man see me more. + What thing is this for you to shout me down, + What, for a man to grudge me this my life + As it were envious of all yours, and I + A thief of reputations? nay, for now, + If there be any highest in heaven, a god + Above all thrones and thunders of the gods + Throned, and the wheel of the world roll under him, + Judge he between me and all of you, and see + It I transgress at all: but ye, refrain + Transgressing hands and reinless mouths, and keep + Silence, lest by much foam of violent words + And proper poison of your lips ye die. + + + OENEUS. + + O flower of Tegea, maiden, fleetest foot + And holiest head of women, have good cheer + Of thy good words: but ye, depart with her + In peace and reverence, each with blameless eye + Following his fate; exalt your hands and hearts, + Strike, cease not, arrow on arrow and wound on wound, + And go with gods and with the gods return. + + + CHORUS. + + Who hath given man speech? or who hath set therein + A thorn for peril and a snare for sin? + For in the word his life is and his breath, + And in the word his death, + That madness and the infatuate heart may breed + From the word's womb the deed + And life bring one thing forth ere all pass by, + Even one thing which is ours yet cannot die-- + Death. Hast thou seen him ever anywhere, + Time's twin-born brother, imperishable as he + Is perishable and plaintive, clothed with care + And mutable as sand, + But death is strong and full of blood and fair + And perdurable and like a lord of land? + Nay, time thou seest not, death thou wilt not see + Till life's right hand be loosened from thine hand + And thy life-days from thee. + For the gods very subtly fashion + Madness with sadness upon earth: + Not knowing in any wise compassion, + Nor holding pity of any worth; + And many things they have given and taken, + And wrought and ruined many things; + The firm land have they loosed and shaken, + And sealed the sea with all her springs; + They have wearied time with heavy burdens + And vexed the lips of life with breath: + Set men to labour and given them guerdons, + Death, and great darkness after death: + Put moans into the bridal measure + And on the bridal wools a stain, + And circled pain about with pleasure, + And girdled pleasure about with pain; + And strewed one marriage-bed with tears and fire + For extreme loathing and supreme desire. + + What shall be done with all these tears of ours? + Shall they make watersprings in the fair heaven + To bathe the brows of morning? or like flowers + Be shed and shine before the starriest hours, + Or made the raiment of the weeping Seven? + Or rather, O our masters, shall they be + Food for the famine of the grievous sea, + A great well-head of lamentation + Satiating the sad gods? or fall and flow + Among the years and seasons to and fro, + And wash their feet with tribulation + And fill them full with grieving ere they go? + Alas, our lords, and yet alas again, + Seeing all your iron heaven is gilt as gold + But all we smite thereat in vain, + Smite the gates barred with groanings manifold, + But all the floors are paven with our pain. + Yea, and with weariness of lips and eyes, + With breaking of the bosom, and with sighs, + We labour, and are clad and fed with grief + And filled with days we would not fain behold + And nights we would not hear of, we wax old, + All we wax old and wither like a leaf. + We are outcast, strayed between bright sun and moon; + Our light and darkness are as leaves of flowers, + Black flowers and white, that perish; and the noon-- + As midnight, and the night as daylight hours. + A little fruit a little while is ours, + And the worm finds it soon. + + But up in heaven the high gods one by one + Lay hands upon the draught that quickeneth, + Fulfilled with all tears shed and all things done, + And stir with soft imperishable breath + The bubbling bitterness of life and death, + And hold it to our lips and laugh; but they + Preserve their lips from tasting night or day, + Lest they too change and sleep, the fates that spun, + The lips that made us and the hands that slay; + Lest all these change, and heaven bow down to none, + Change and be subject to the secular sway + And terrene revolution of the sun. + Therefore they thrust it from them, putting time away. + + I would the wine of time, made sharp and sweet + With multitudinous days and nights and tears + And many mixing savours of strange years, + Were no more trodden of them under feet, + Cast out and spilt about their holy places: + That life were given them as a fruit to eat + And death to drink as water; that the light + Might ebb, drawn backward from their eyes, and night + Hide for one hour the imperishable faces. + That they might rise up sad in heaven, and know + Sorrow and sleep, one paler than young snow, + One cold as blight of dew and ruinous rain, + Rise up and rest and suffer a little, and be + Awhile as all things born with us and we, + And grieve as men, and like slain men be slain. + + For now we know not of them; but one saith + The gods are gracious, praising God; and one, + When hast thou seen? or hast thou felt his breath + Touch, nor consume thine eyelids as the sun, + Nor fill thee to the lips with fiery death? + None hath beheld him, none + Seen above other gods and shapes of things, + Swift without feet and flying without wings, + Intolerable, not clad with death or life, + Insatiable, not known of night or day, + The lord of love and loathing and of strife + Who gives a star and takes a sun away; + Who shapes the soul, and makes her a barren wife + To the earthly body and grievous growth of clay; + Who turns the large limbs to a little flame + And binds the great sea with a little sand; + Who makes desire, and slays desire with shame; + Who shakes the heaven as ashes in his hand; + Who, seeing the light and shadow for the same, + Bids day waste night as fire devours a brand, + Smites without sword, and scourges without rod; + The supreme evil, God. + + Yea, with thine hate, O God, thou hast covered us, + One saith, and hidden our eyes away from sight, + And made us transitory and hazardous, + Light things and slight; + Yet have men praised thee, saying, He hath made man thus, + And he doeth right. + Thou hast kissed us, and hast smitten; thou hast laid + Upon us with thy left hand life, and said, + Live: and again thou hast said, Yield up your breath, + And with thy right hand laid upon us death. + Thou hast sent us sleep, and stricken sleep with dreams, + Saying, Joy is not, but love of joy shall be, + Thou hast made sweet springs for all the pleasant streams, + In the end thou hast made them bitter with the sea. + Thou hast fed one rose with dust of many men; + Thou hast marred one face with fire of many tears; + Thou hast taken love, and given us sorrow again; + With pain thou hast filled us full to the eyes and ears. + Therefore because thou art strong, our father, and we + Feeble; and thou art against us, and thine hand + Constrains us in the shallows of the sea + And breaks us at the limits of the land; + Because thou hast bent thy lightnings as a bow, + And loosed the hours like arrows; and let fall + Sins and wild words and many a winged woe + And wars among us, and one end of all; + Because thou hast made the thunder, and thy feet + Are as a rushing water when the skies + Break, but thy face as an exceeding heat + And flames of fire the eyelids of thine eyes; + Because thou art over all who are over us; + Because thy name is life and our name death; + Because thou art cruel and men are piteous, + And our hands labour and thine hand scattereth; + Lo, with hearts rent and knees made tremulous, + Lo, with ephemeral lips and casual breath, + At least we witness of thee ere we die + That these things are not otherwise, but thus; + That each man in his heart sigheth, and saith, + That all men even as I, + All we are against thee, against thee, O God most high, + But ye, keep ye on earth + Your lips from over-speech, + Loud words and longing are so little worth; + And the end is hard to reach. + For silence after grievous things is good, + And reverence, and the fear that makes men whole, + And shame, and righteous governance of blood, + And lordship of the soul. + But from sharp words and wits men pluck no fruit, + And gathering thorns they shake the tree at root; + For words divide and rend; + But silence is most noble till the end. + + + ALTHAEA. + + I heard within the house a cry of news + And came forth eastward hither, where the dawn, + Cheers first these warder gods that face the sun + And next our eyes unrisen; for unaware + Came clashes of swift hoofs and trampling feet + And through the windy pillared corridor + Light sharper than the frequent flames of day + That daily fill it from the fiery dawn; + Gleams, and a thunder of people that cried out, + And dust and hurrying horsemen; lo their chief, + That rode with Oeneus rein by rein, returned. + What cheer, O herald of my lord the king? + + + HERALD. + + Lady, good cheer and great; the boar is slain. + CHORUS. + + Praised be all gods that look toward Calydon. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Good news and brief; but by whose happier hand? + + + HERALD. + + A maiden's and a prophet's and thy son's. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Well fare the spear that severed him and life. + + + HERALD. + + + Thine own, and not an alien, hast thou blest + + + ALTHAEA. + + Twice be thou too for my sake blest and his. + + + HERALD. + + At the king's word I rode afoam for thine. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Thou sayest he tarrieth till they bring the spoil? + + + HERALD. + + Hard by the quarry, where they breathe, O queen. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Speak thou their chance; but some bring flowers and crown + These gods and all the lintel, and shed wine, + Fetch sacrifice and slay, for heaven is good. + + + HERALD. + + Some furlongs northward where the brakes begin + West of that narrowing range of warrior hills + Whose brooks have bled with battle when thy son + Smote Acarnania, there all they made halt, + And with keen eye took note of spear and hound, + Royally ranked; Laertes island-born, + The young Gerenian Nestor, Panopeus, + And Cepheus and Ancaeus, mightiest thewed, + Arcadians; next, and evil-eyed of these, + Arcadian Atalanta, with twain hounds + Lengthening the leash, and under nose and brow + Glittering with lipless tooth and fire-swift eye; + But from her white braced shoulder the plumed shafts + Rang, and the bow shone from her side; next her + Meleager, like a sun in spring that strikes + Branch into leaf and bloom into the world, + A glory among men meaner; Iphicles, + And following him that slew the biform bull + Pirithous, and divine Eurytion, + And, bride-bound to the gods, Aeacides. + Then Telamon his brother, and Argive-born + The seer and sayer of visions and of truth, + Amphiaraus; and a four-fold strength, + Thine, even thy mother's and thy sister's sons. + And recent from the roar of foreign foam + Jason, and Dryas twin-begot with war, + A blossom of bright battle, sword and man + Shining; and Idas, and the keenest eye + Of Lynceus, and Admetus twice-espoused, + And Hippasus and Hyleus, great in heart. + These having halted bade blow horns, and rode + Through woods and waste lands cleft by stormy streams, + Past yew-trees and the heavy hair of pines, + And where the dew is thickest under oaks, + This way and that; but questing up and down + They saw no trail nor scented; and one said, + Plexippus, Help, or help not, Artemis, + And we will flay thy boarskin with male hands; + But saying, he ceased and said not that he would, + Seeing where the green ooze of a sun-struck marsh + Shook with a thousand reeds untunable, + And in their moist and multitudinous flower + Slept no soft sleep, with violent visions fed, + The blind bulk of the immeasurable beast. + And seeing, he shuddered with sharp lust of praise + Through all his limbs, and launched a double dart, + And missed; for much desire divided him, + Too hot of spirit and feebler than his will, + That his hand failed, though fervent; and the shaft, + Sundering the rushes, in a tamarisk stem + Shook, and stuck fast; then all abode save one, + The Arcadian Atalanta; from her side + Sprang her hounds, labouring at the leash, and slipped, + And plashed ear-deep with plunging feet; but she + Saying, Speed it as I send it for thy sake, + Goddess, drew bow and loosed, the sudden string + Rang, and sprang inward, and the waterish air + Hissed, and the moist plumes of the songless reeds + Moved as a wave which the wind moves no more. + But the boar heaved half out of ooze and slime + His tense flank trembling round the barbed wound, + Hateful, and fiery with invasive eyes + And bristling with intolerable hair + Plunged, and the hounds clung, and green flowers and white + Reddened and broke all round them where they came. + And charging with sheer tusk he drove, and smote + Hyleus; and sharp death caught his sudden soul, + And violent sleep shed night upon his eyes. + Then Peleus, with strong strain of hand and heart, + Shot; but the sidelong arrow slid, and slew + His comrade born and loving countryman, + Under the left arm smitten, as he no less + Poised a like arrow; and bright blood brake afoam, + And falling, and weighed back by clamorous arms, + Sharp rang the dead limbs of Eurytion. + Then one shot happier; the Cadmean seer, + Amphiaraus; for his sacred shaft + Pierced the red circlet of one ravening eye + Beneath the brute brows of the sanguine boar, + Now bloodier from one slain; but he so galled + Sprang straight, and rearing cried no lesser cry + Than thunder and the roar of wintering streams + That mix their own foam with the yellower sea; + And as a tower that falls by fire in fight + With ruin of walls and all its archery, + And breaks the iron flower of war beneath, + Crushing charred limbs and molten arms of men; + So through crushed branches and the reddening brake + Clamoured and crashed the fervour of his feet, + And trampled, springing sideways from the tusk, + Too tardy a moving mould of heavy strength, + Ancaeus; and as flakes of weak-winged snow + Break, all the hard thews of his heaving limbs + Broke, and rent flesh fell every way, and blood + Flew, and fierce fragments of no more a man. + Then all the heroes drew sharp breath, and gazed, + And smote not; but Meleager, but thy son, + Right in the wild way of the coming curse + Rock-rooted, fair with fierce and fastened lips, + Clear eyes, and springing muscle and shortening limb-- + With chin aslant indrawn to a tightening throat, + Grave, and with gathered sinews, like a god,-- + Aimed on the left side his well-handled spear + Grasped where the ash was knottiest hewn, and smote, + And with no missile wound, the monstrous boar + Right in the hairiest hollow of his hide + Under the last rib, sheer through bulk and bone, + Peep in; and deeply smitten, and to death, + The heavy horror with his hanging shafts + Leapt, and fell furiously, and from raging lips + Foamed out the latest wrath of all his life. + And all they praised the gods with mightier heart, + Zeus and all gods, but chiefliest Artemis, + Seeing; but Meleager bade whet knives and flay, + Strip and stretch out the splendour of the spoil; + And hot and horrid from the work all these + Sat, and drew breath and drank and made great cheer + And washed the hard sweat off their calmer brows. + For much sweet grass grew higher than grew the reed, + And good for slumber, and every holier herb, + Narcissus, and the low-lying melilote, + And all of goodliest blade and bloom that springs + Where, hid by heavier hyacinth, violet buds + Blossom and burn; and fire of yellower flowers + And light of crescent lilies, and such leaves + As fear the Faun's and know the Dryad's foot; + Olive and ivy and poplar dedicate, + And many a well-spring overwatched of these. + There now they rest; but me the king bade bear + Good tidings to rejoice this town and thee. + Wherefore be glad, and all ye give much thanks, + For fallen is all the trouble of Calydon. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Laud ye the gods; for this they have given is good, + And what shall be they hide until their time. + Much good and somewhat grievous hast thou said, + And either well; but let all sad things be, + Till all have made before the prosperous gods + Burnt-offering, and poured out the floral wine. + Look fair, O gods, and favourable; for we + Praise you with no false heart or flattering mouth, + Being merciful, but with pure souls and prayer. + + + HERALD. + + Thou hast prayed well; for whoso fears not these, + But once being prosperous waxes huge of heart, + Him shall some new thing unaware destroy. + + + CHORUS. + + O that I now, I too were + By deep wells and water-floods, + Streams of ancient hills; and where + All the wan green places bear + Blossoms cleaving to the sod, + Fruitless fruit, and grasses fair, + Or such darkest ivy-buds + As divide thy yellow hair, + Bacchus, and their leaves that nod + Round thy fawnskin brush the bare + Snow-soft shoulders of a god; + There the year is sweet, and there + Earth is full of secret springs, + And the fervent rose-cheeked hours, + Those that marry dawn and noon, + There are sunless, there look pale + In dim leaves and hidden air, + Pale as grass or latter flowers + Or the wild vine's wan wet rings + Full of dew beneath the moon, + And all day the nightingale + Sleeps, and all night sings; + There in cold remote recesses + That nor alien eyes assail, + Feet, nor imminence of wings, + Nor a wind nor any tune, + Thou, O queen and holiest, + Flower the whitest of all things, + With reluctant lengthening tresses + And with sudden splendid breast + Save of maidens unbeholden, + There art wont to enter, there + Thy divine swift limbs and golden. + Maiden growth of unbound hair, + Bathed in waters white, + Shine, and many a maid's by thee + In moist woodland or the hilly + Flowerless brakes where wells abound + Out of all men's sight; + Or in lower pools that see + All their marges clothed all round + With the innumerable lily, + Whence the golden-girdled bee + Flits through flowering rush to fret + White or duskier violet, + Fair as those that in far years + With their buds left luminous + And their little leaves made wet + From the warmer dew of tears, + Mother's tears in extreme need, + Hid the limbs of Iamus, + Of thy brother's seed; + For his heart was piteous + Toward him, even as thine heart now + Pitiful toward us; + Thine, O goddess, turning hither + A benignant blameless brow; + Seeing enough of evil done + And lives withered as leaves wither + In the blasting of the sun; + Seeing enough of hunters dead, + Ruin enough of all our year, + Herds and harvests slain and shed, + Herdsmen stricken many an one, + Fruits and flocks consumed together, + And great length of deadly days. + Yet with reverent lips and fear + Turn we toward thee, turn and praise + For this lightening of clear weather + And prosperities begun. + For not seldom, when all air + As bright water without breath + Shines, and when men fear not, fate + Without thunder unaware + Breaks, and brings down death. + Joy with grief ye great gods give, + Good with bad, and overbear + All the pride of us that live, + All the high estate, + As ye long since overbore, + As in old time long before, + Many a strong man and a great, + All that were. + But do thou, sweet, otherwise, + Having heed of all our prayer, + Taking note of all our sighs; + We beseech thee by thy light, + By thy bow, and thy sweet eyes, + And the kingdom of the night, + Be thou favourable and fair; + By thine arrows and thy might + And Orion overthrown; + By the maiden thy delight, + By the indissoluble zone + And the sacred hair. + + + MESSENGER. + + Maidens, if ye will sing now, shift your song, + Bow down, cry, wail for pity; is this a time + For singing? nay, for strewing of dust and ash, + Rent raiment, and for bruising of the breast. + + + CHORUS. + + What new thing wolf-like lurks behind thy words? + What snake's tongue in thy lips? what fire in the eyes? + + + MESSENGER. + + Bring me before the queen and I will speak. + + + CHORUS. + + Lo, she comes forth as from thank-offering made. + + + MESSENGER. + + A barren offering for a bitter gift. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What are these borne on branches, and the face + Covered? no mean men living, but now slain + Such honour have they, if any dwell with death. + + + MESSENGER. + + Queen, thy twain brethren and thy mother's sons. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Lay down your dead till I behold their blood + If it be mine indeed, and I will weep. + + + MESSENGER, + + Weep if thou wilt, for these men shall no more. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O brethren, O my father's sons, of me + Well loved and well reputed, I should weep + Tears dearer than the dear blood drawn from you + But that I know you not uncomforted, + Sleeping no shameful sleep, however slain, + For my son surely hath avenged you dead. + + + MESSENGER. + + Nay, should thine own seed slay himself, O queen? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Thy double word brings forth a double death. + + + MESSENGER. + + Know this then singly, by one hand they fell. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What mutterest thou with thine ambiguous mouth? + + + MESSENGER. + + Slain by thy son's hand; is that saying so hard? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Our time is come upon us: it is here. + + + CHORUS. + + O miserable, and spoiled at thine own hand. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wert thou not called Meleager from this womb? + + + CHORUS. + + A grievous huntsman hath it bred to thee. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wert thou born fire, and shalt thou not devour? + + + CHORUS. + + The fire thou madest, will it consume even thee? + + + ALTHAEA. + + My dreams are fallen upon me; burn thou too. + + + CHORUS. + + Not without God are visions born and die. + + + ALTHAEA. + + The gods are many about me; I am one. + + + CHORUS + + She groans as men wrestling with heavier gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + They rend me, they divide me, they destroy. + + + CHORUS. + + Or one labouring in travail of strange births. + + + ALTHAEA. + + They are strong, they are strong; I am broken, and these prevail. + + + CHORUS. + + The god is great against her; she will die. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, but not now; for my heart too is great. + I would I were not here in sight of the sun. + But thou, speak all thou sawest, and I will die. + I would I were not here in sight of the sun. + + + MESSENGER. + + O queen, for queenlike hast thou borne thyself, + A little word may hold so great mischance. + For in division of the sanguine spoil + These men thy brethren wrangling bade yield up + The boar's head and the horror of the hide + That this might stand a wonder in Calydon, + Hallowed; and some drew toward them; but thy son + With great hands grasping all that weight of hair + Cast down the dead heap clanging and collapsed + At female feet, saying This thy spoil not mine, + Maiden, thine own hand for thyself hath reaped, + And all this praise God gives thee: she thereat + Laughed, as when dawn touches the sacred night + The sky sees laugh and redden and divide + Dim lips and eyelids virgin of the sun, + Hers, and the warm slow breasts of morning heave, + Fruitful, and flushed with flame from lamp-lit hours, + And maiden undulation of clear hair + Colour the clouds; so laughed she from pure heart + Lit with a low blush to the braided hair, + And rose-coloured and cold like very dawn, + Golden and godlike, chastely with chaste lips, + A faint grave laugh; and all they held their peace, + And she passed by them. Then one cried Lo now, + Shall not the Arcadian shoot out lips at us, + Saying all we were despoiled by this one girl? + And all they rode against her violently + And cast the fresh crown from her hair, and now + They had rent her spoil away, dishonouring her, + Save that Meleager, as a tame lion chafed, + Bore on them, broke them, and as fire cleaves wood + So clove and drove them, smitten in twain; but she + Smote not nor heaved up hand; and this man first, + Plexippus, crying out This for love's sake, sweet, + Drove at Meleager, who with spear straightening + Pierced his cheek through; then Toxeus made for him, + Dumb, but his spear spake; vain and violent words, + Fruitless; for him too stricken through both sides + The earth felt falling, and his horse's foam + Blanched thy son's face, his slayer; and these being slain, + None moved nor spake; but Oeneus bade bear hence + These made of heaven infatuate in their deaths, + Foolish; for these would baffle fate, and fell. + And they passed on, and all men honoured her, + Being honourable, as one revered of heaven. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What say you, women? is all this not well done? + + + CHORUS. + + No man doth well but God hath part in him. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But no part here; for these my brethren born + Ye have no part in, these ye know not of + As I that was their sister, a sacrifice + Slain in their slaying. I would I had died for these, + For this man dead walked with me, child by child, + And made a weak staff for my feebler feet + With his own tender wrist and hand, and held + And led me softly and shewed me gold and steel + And shining shapes of mirror and bright crown + And all things fair; and threw light spears, and brought + Young hounds to huddle at my feet and thrust + Tame heads against my little maiden breasts + And please me with great eyes; and those days went + And these are bitter and I a barren queen + And sister miserable, a grievous thing + And mother of many curses; and she too, + My sister Leda, sitting overseas + With fair fruits round her, and her faultless lord, + Shall curse me, saying A sorrow and not a son, + Sister, thou barest, even a burning fire, + A brand consuming thine own soul and me. + But ye now, sons of Thestius, make good cheer, + For ye shall have such wood to funeral fire + As no king hath; and flame that once burnt down + Oil shall not quicken or breath relume or wine + Refresh again; much costlier than fine gold, + And more than many lives of wandering men. + + + CHORUS. + + O queen, thou hast yet with thee love-worthy things, + Thine husband, and the great strength of thy son. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Who shall get brothers for me while I live? + Who bear them? who bring forth in lieu of these? + Are not our fathers and our brethren one, + And no man like them? are not mine here slain? + Have we not hung together, he and I, + Flowerwise feeding as the feeding bees, + With mother-milk for honey? and this man too, + Dead, with my son's spear thrust between his sides, + Hath he not seen us, later born than he, + Laugh with lips filled, and laughed again for love? + There were no sons then in the world, nor spears, + Nor deadly births of women; but the gods + Allowed us, and our days were clear of these. + I would I had died unwedded, and brought forth + No swords to vex the world; for these that spake + Sweet words long since and loved me will not speak + Nor love nor look upon me; and all my life + I shall not hear nor see them living men. + But I too living, how shall I now live? + What life shall this be with my son, to know + What hath been and desire what will not be, + Look for dead eyes and listen for dead lips, + And kill mine own heart with remembering them, + And with those eyes that see their slayer alive + Weep, and wring hands that clasp him by the hand? + How shall I bear my dreams of them, to hear + False voices, feel the kisses of false mouths + And footless sound of perished feet, and then + Wake and hear only it may be their own hounds + Whine masterless in miserable sleep, + And see their boar-spears and their beds and seats + And all the gear and housings of their lives + And not the men? shall hounds and horses mourn, + Pine with strange eyes, and prick up hungry ears, + Famish and fail at heart for their dear lords, + And I not heed at all? and those blind things + Fall off from life for love's sake, and I live? + Surely some death is better than some life, + Better one death for him and these and me + For if the gods had slain them it may be + I had endured it; if they had fallen by war + Or by the nets and knives of privy death + And by hired hands while sleeping, this thing too + I had set my soul to suffer; or this hunt, + Had this dispatched them, under tusk or tooth + Torn, sanguine, trodden, broken; for all deaths + Or honourable or with facile feet avenged + And hands of swift gods following, all save this, + Are bearable; but not for their sweet land + Fighting, but not a sacrifice, lo these + Dead, for I had not then shed all mine heart + Out at mine eyes: then either with good speed, + Being just, I had slain their slayer atoningly, + Or strewn with flowers their fire and on their tombs + Hung crowns, and over them a song, and seen + Their praise outflame their ashes: for all men, + All maidens, had come thither, and from pure lips + Shed songs upon them, from heroic eyes + Tears; and their death had been a deathless life; + But now, by no man hired nor alien sword, + By their own kindred are they fallen, in peace, + After much peril, friendless among friends, + By hateful hands they loved; and how shall mine + Touch these returning red and not from war, + These fatal from the vintage of men's veins, + Dead men my brethren? how shall these wash off + No festal stains of undelightful wine, + How mix the blood, my blood on them, with me, + Holding mine hand? or how shall I say, son, + That am no sister? but by night and day + Shall we not sit and hate each other, and think + Things hate-worthy? not live with shamefast eyes, + Brow-beaten, treading soft with fearful feet, + Each unupbraided, each without rebuke + Convicted, and without a word reviled + Each of another? and I shall let thee live + And see thee strong and hear men for thy sake + Praise me, but these thou wouldest not let live + No man shall praise for ever? these shall lie + Dead, unbeloved, unholpen, all through thee? + Sweet were they toward me living, and mine heart + Desired them, but was then well satisfied, + That now is as men hungered; and these dead + I shall want always to the day I die. + For all things else and all men may renew; + Yea, son for son the gods may give and take, + But never a brother or sister any more. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, for the son lies close about thine heart, + Full of thy milk, warm from thy womb, and drains + Life and the blood of life and all thy fruit, + Eats thee and drinks thee as who breaks bread and eats, + Treads wine and drinks, thyself, a sect of thee; + And if he feed not, shall not thy flesh faint? + Or drink not, are not thy lips dead for thirst? + This thing moves more than all things, even thy son, + That thou cleave to him; and he shall honour thee, + Thy womb that bare him and the breasts he knew, + Reverencing most for thy sake all his gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But these the gods too gave me, and these my son, + Not reverencing his gods nor mine own heart + Nor the old sweet years nor all venerable things, + But cruel, and in his ravin like a beast, + Hath taken away to slay them: yea, and she, + She the strange woman, she the flower, the sword, + Red from spilt blood, a mortal flower to men, + Adorable, detestable--even she + Saw with strange eyes and with strange lips rejoiced, + Seeing these mine own slain of mine own, and me + Made miserable above all miseries made, + A grief among all women in the world, + A name to be washed out with all men's tears. + + + CHORUS. + + Strengthen thy spirit; is this not also a god, + Chance, and the wheel of all necessities? + Hard things have fallen upon us from harsh gods, + Whom lest worse hap rebuke we not for these. + + + ALTHAEA. + + My spirit is strong against itself, and I + For these things' sake cry out on mine own soul + That it endures outrage, and dolorous days, + And life, and this inexpiable impotence. + Weak am I, weak and shameful; my breath drawn + Shames me, and monstrous things and violent gods. + What shall atone? what heal me? what bring back + Strength to the foot, light to the face? what herb + Assuage me? what restore me? what release? + What strange thing eaten or drunken, O great gods. + Make me as you or as the beasts that feed, + Slay and divide and cherish their own hearts? + For these ye show us; and we less than these + Have not wherewith to live as all these things + Which all their lives fare after their own kind + As who doth well rejoicing; but we ill, + Weeping or laughing, we whom eyesight fails, + Knowledge and light efface and perfect heart, + And hands we lack, and wit; and all our days + Sin, and have hunger, and die infatuated. + For madness have ye given us and not health, + And sins whereof we know not; and for these + Death, and sudden destruction unaware. + What shall we say now? what thing comes of us? + + + CHORUS. + + Alas, for all this all men undergo. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wherefore I will not that these twain, O gods, + Die as a dog dies, eaten of creeping things, + Abominable, a loathing; but though dead + Shall they have honour and such funereal flame + As strews men's ashes in their enemies' face + And blinds their eyes who hate them: lest men say, + 'Lo how they lie, and living had great kin, + And none of these hath pity of them, and none + Regards them lying, and none is wrung at heart, + None moved in spirit for them, naked and slain, + Abhorred, abased, and no tears comfort them:' + And in the dark this grieve Eurythemis, + Hearing how these her sons come down to her + Unburied, unavenged, as kinless men, + And had a queen their sister. That were shame + Worse than this grief. Yet how to atone at all + I know not, seeing the love of my born son, + A new-made mother's new-born love, that grows + From the soft child to the strong man, now soft + Now strong as either, and still one sole same love, + Strives with me, no light thing to strive withal; + This love is deep, and natural to man's blood, + And ineffaceable with many tears. + Yet shall not these rebuke me though I die, + Nor she in that waste world with all her dead, + My mother, among the pale flocks fallen as leaves, + Folds of dead people, and alien from the sun; + Nor lack some bitter comfort, some poor praise, + Being queen, to have borne her daughter like a queen, + Righteous; and though mine own fire burn me too, + She shall have honour and these her sons, though dead. + But all the gods will, all they do, and we + Not all we would, yet somewhat, and one choice + We have, to live and do just deeds and die. + + + CHORUS. + + Terrible words she communes with, and turns + Swift fiery eyes in doubt against herself, + And murmurs as who talks in dreams with death. + + + ALTHAEA. + + For the unjust also dieth, and him all men + Hate, and himself abhors the unrighteousness, + And seeth his own dishonour intolerable. + But I being just, doing right upon myself, + Slay mine own soul, and no man born shames me. + For none constrains nor shall rebuke, being done, + What none compelled me doing, thus these things fare. + Ah, ah, that such things should so fare, ah me, + That I am found to do them and endure, + Chosen and constrained to choose, and bear myself + Mine own wound through mine own flesh to the heart + Violently stricken, a spoiler and a spoil, + A ruin ruinous, fallen on mine own son. + Ah, ah, for me too as for these; alas, + For that is done that shall be, and mine hand + Full of the deed, and full of blood mine eyes, + That shall see never nor touch anything + Save blood unstanched and fire unquenchable. + + + CHORUS. + + What wilt thou do? what ails thee? for the house + Shakes ruinously; wilt thou bring fire for it? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Fire in the roofs, and on the lintels fire. + Lo ye, who stand and weave, between the doors, + There; and blood drips from hand and thread, and stains + Threshold and raiment and me passing in + Flecked with the sudden sanguine drops of death. + + + CHORUS. + + Alas that time is stronger than strong men, + Fate than all gods: and these are fallen on us. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A little since and I was glad; and now + I never shall be glad or sad again. + + + CHORUS. + + Between two joys a grief grows unaware. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A little while and I shall laugh; and then + I shall weep never and laugh not any more. + + + CHORUS. + + What shall be said? for words are thorns to grief. + Withhold thyself a little and fear the gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Fear died when these were slain; and I am as dead, + And fear is of the living; these fear none. + + + CHORUS. + + Have pity upon all people for their sake. + + + ALTHAEA. + + It is done now, shall I put back my day? + + + CHORUS. + + An end is come, an end; this is of God. + + + ALTHAEA. + + I am fire, and burn myself, keep clear of fire. + + + CHORUS. + + The house is broken, is broken; it shall not stand. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Woe, woe for him that breaketh; and a rod + Smote it of old, and now the axe is here. + + + CHORUS. + + Not as with sundering of the earth + Nor as with cleaving of the sea + Nor fierce foreshadowings of a birth + Nor flying dreams of death to be + Nor loosening of the large world's girth + And quickening of the body of night, + And sound of thunder in men's ears + And fire of lightning in men's sight, + Fate, mother of desires and fears, + Bore unto men the law of tears; + But sudden, an unfathered flame, + And broken out of night, she shone, + She, without body, without name, + In days forgotten and foregone; + And heaven rang round her as she came + Like smitten cymbals, and lay bare, + Clouds and great stars, thunders and snows, + The blue sad fields and folds of air, + The life that breathes, the life that grows, + All wind, all fire, that burns or blows, + Even all these knew her: for she is great; + The daughter of doom, the mother of death, + The sister of sorrow; a lifelong weight + That no man's finger lighteneth, + Nor any god can lighten fate, + A landmark seen across the way + Where one race treads as the other trod; + An evil sceptre, an evil stay, + Wrought for a staff, wrought for a rod, + The bitter jealousy of God. + + For death is deep as the sea, + And fate as the waves thereof. + Shall the waves take pity on thee + Or the southwind offer thee love? + Wilt thou take the night for thy day + Or the darkness for light on thy way, + Till thou say in thine heart Enough? + Behold, thou art over fair, thou art over wise; + The sweetness of spring in thine hair, and the light in thine eyes. + The light of the spring in thine eyes, and the sound in thine ears; + Yet thine heart shall wax heavy with sighs and thine eyelids with tears. + Wilt thou cover thine hair with gold, and with silver thy feet? + Hast thou taken the purple to fold thee, and made thy mouth sweet? + Behold, when thy face is made bare, he that loved thee shall hate; + Thy face shall be no more fair at the fall of thy fate. + For thy life shall fall as a leaf and be shed as the rain; + And the veil of thine head shall be grief: and the crown shall be pain. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Ho, ye that wail, and ye that sing, make way + Till I be come among you. Hide your tears, + Ye little weepers, and your laughing lips, + Ye laughers for a little; lo mine eyes + That outweep heaven at rainiest, and my mouth + That laughs as gods laugh at us. Fate's are we, + Yet fate is ours a breathing-space; yea, mine, + Fate is made mine for ever; he is my son, + My bedfellow, my brother. You strong gods, + Give place unto me; I am as any of you, + To give life and to take life. Thou, old earth, + That hast made man and unmade; thou whose mouth + Looks red from the eaten fruits of thine own womb; + Behold me with what lips upon what food + I feed and fill my body; even with flesh + Made of my body. Lo, the fire I lit + I burn with fire to quench it; yea, with flame + I burn up even the dust and ash thereof. + + + CHORUS. + + Woman, what fire is this thou burnest with? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea to the bone, yea to the blood and all. + + + CHORUS. + + For this thy face and hair are as one fire. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A tongue that licks and beats upon the dust. + + CHORUS. + + And in thine eyes are hollow light and heat. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Of flame not fed with hand or frankincense. + + + CHORUS. + + I fear thee for the trembling of thine eyes. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Neither with love they tremble nor for fear. + + + CHORUS. + + And thy mouth shuddering like a shot bird. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Not as the bride's mouth when man kisses it. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, but what thing is this thing thou hast done? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look, I am silent, speak your eyes for me. + + + CHORUS. + + I see a faint fire lightening from the hall. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Gaze, stretch your eyes, strain till the lids drop off. + + + CHORUS. + + Flushed pillars down the flickering vestibule. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Stretch with your necks like birds: cry, chirp as they. + + + CHORUS. + + And a long brand that blackens: and white dust + + + ALTHAEA. + + O children, what is this ye see? your eyes + Are blinder than night's face at fall of moon. + That is my son, my flesh, my fruit of life, + My travail, and the year's weight of my womb, + Meleager, a fire enkindled of mine hands + And of mine hands extinguished, this is he. + + + CHORUS. + + O gods, what word has flown out at thy mouth? + + + ALTHAEA. + + I did this and I say this and I die. + + + CHORUS. + + Death stands upon the doorway of thy lips, + And in thy mouth has death set up his house. + ALTHAEA. + + O death, a little, a little while, sweet death, + Until I see the brand burnt down and die. + + + CHORUS. + + She reels as any reed under the wind, + And cleaves unto the ground with staggering feet. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Girls, one thing will I say and hold my peace. + I that did this will weep not nor cry out, + Cry ye and weep: I will not call on gods, + Call ye on them; I will not pity man, + Shew ye your pity. I know not if I live; + Save that I feel the fire upon my face + And on my cheek the burning of a brand. + Yea the smoke bites me, yea I drink the steam + With nostril and with eyelid and with lip + Insatiate and intolerant; and mine hands + Burn, and fire feeds upon mine eyes; I reel + As one made drunk with living, whence he draws + Drunken delight; yet I, though mad for joy, + Loathe my long living and am waxen red + As with the shadow of shed blood; behold, + I am kindled with the flames that fade in him, + I am swollen with subsiding of his veins, + I am flooded with his ebbing; my lit eyes + Flame with the falling fire that leaves his lids + Bloodless, my cheek is luminous with blood + Because his face is ashen. Yet, O child, + Son, first-born, fairest--O sweet mouth, sweet eyes, + That drew my life out through my suckling breast, + That shone and clove mine heart through--O soft knees + Clinging, O tender treadings of soft feet, + Cheeks warm with little kissings--O child, child, + What have we made each other? Lo, I felt + Thy weight cleave to me, a burden of beauty, O son, + Thy cradled brows and loveliest loving lips, + The floral hair, the little lightening eyes, + And all thy goodly glory; with mine hands + Delicately I fed thee, with my tongue + Tenderly spake, saying, Verily in God's time, + For all the little likeness of thy limbs, + Son, I shall make thee a kingly man to fight, + A lordly leader; and hear before I die, + 'She bore the goodliest sword of all the world.' + Oh! oh! For all my life turns round on me; + I am severed from myself, my name is gone, + My name that was a healing, it is changed, + My name is a consuming. From this time, + Though mine eyes reach to the end of all these things, + My lips shall not unfasten till I die. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + She has filled with sighing the city, + And the ways thereof with tears; + She arose, she girdled her sides, + She set her face as a bride's; + She wept, and she had no pity, + Trembled, and felt no fears. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Her eyes were clear as the sun, + Her brows were fresh as the day; + She girdled herself with gold, + Her robes were manifold; + But the days of her worship are done, + Her praise is taken away. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + For she set her hand to the fire, + With her mouth she kindled the same, + As the mouth of a flute-player, + So was the mouth of her; + With the might of her strong desire + She blew the breath of the flame. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + She set her hand to the wood, + She took the fire in her hand; + As one who is nigh to death, + She panted with strange breath; + She opened her lips unto blood, + She breathed and kindled the brand. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + As a wood-dove newly shot, + She sobbed and lifted her breast; + She sighed and covered her eyes, + Filling her lips with sighs; + She sighed, she withdrew herself not, + She refrained not, taking not rest; + + + SEMICHORUS. + + But as the wind which is drouth, + And as the air which is death, + As storm that severeth ships, + Her breath severing her lips, + The breath came forth of her mouth + And the fire came forth of her breath. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Queen, and you maidens, there is come on us + A thing more deadly than the face of death; + Meleager the good lord is as one slain. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Without sword, without sword is he stricken; + Slain, and slain without hand. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + For as keen ice divided of the sun + His limbs divide, and as thawed snow the flesh + Thaws from off all his body to the hair. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + He wastes as the embers quicken; + With the brand he fades as a brand + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Even while they sang and all drew hither and he + Lifted both hands to crown the Arcadian's hair + And fix the looser leaves, both hands fell down. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + With rending of cheek and of hair + Lament ye, mourn for him, weep. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Straightway the crown slid off and smote on earth, + First fallen; and he, grasping his own hair, groaned + And cast his raiment round his face and fell. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Alas for visions that were, + And soothsayings spoken in sleep. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + But the king twitched his reins in and leapt down + And caught him, crying out twice 'O child' and thrice, + So that men's eyelids thickened with their tears. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Lament with a long lamentation, + Cry, for an end is at hand. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + O son, he said, son, lift thine eyes, draw breath, + Pity me; but Meleager with sharp lips + Gasped, and his face waxed like as sunburnt grass. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Cry aloud, O thou kingdom, O nation, + O stricken, a ruinous land. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Whereat king Oeneus, straightening feeble knees, + With feeble hands heaved up a lessening weight, + And laid him sadly in strange hands, and wept. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Thou art smitten, her lord, her desire, + Thy dear blood wasted as rain. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + And they with tears and rendings of the beard + Bear hither a breathing body, wept upon + And lightening at each footfall, sick to death. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Thou madest thy sword as a fire, + With fire for a sword thou art slain. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + And lo, the feast turned funeral, and the crowns + Fallen; and the huntress and the hunter trapped; + And weeping and changed faces and veiled hair. + MELEAGER. + + Let your hands meet + Round the weight of my head, + Lift ye my feet + As the feet of the dead; + For the flesh of my body is molten, + the limbs of it molten as lead. + + + CHORUS. + + O thy luminous face, + Thine imperious eyes! + O the grief, O the grace, + As of day when it dies! + Who is this bending over thee, lord, + with tears and suppression of sighs? + + + MELEAGER. + + Is a bride so fair? + Is a maid so meek? + With unchapleted hair, + With unfilleted cheek, + Atalanta, the pure among women, + whose name is as blessing to speak. + + + ATALANTA. + + I would that with feet + Unsandaled, unshod, + Overbold, overfleet, + I had swum not nor trod + From Arcadia to Calydon northward, + a blast of the envy of God. + + + MELEAGER. + + Unto each man his fate; + Unto each as he saith + In whose fingers the weight + Of the world is as breath; + Yet I would that in clamour of battle mine hands + had laid hold upon death. + + + CHORUS. + + Not with cleaving of shields + And their clash in thine ear, + When the lord of fought fields + Breaketh spearshaft from spear, + Thou art broken, our lord, thou art broken; + with travail and labour and fear, + + + MELEAGER. + + Would God he had found me + Beneath fresh boughs + Would God he had bound me + Unawares in mine house, + With light in mine eyes, and songs in my lips, + and a crown on my brows! + + + CHORUS. + + Whence art thou sent from us? + Whither thy goal? + How art thou rent from us, + Thou that wert whole, + As with severing of eyelids and eyes, + as with sundering of body and soul! + + MELEAGER. + + My heart is within me + As an ash in the fire; + Whosoever hath seen me, + Without lute, without lyre, + Shall sing of me grievous things, + even things that were ill to desire. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall raise thee + From the house of the dead? + Or what man praise thee + That thy praise may be said? + Alas thy beauty! alas thy body! alas thine head! + + + MELEAGER. + + But thou, O mother, + The dreamer of dreams, + Wilt thou bring forth another + To feel the sun's beams + When I move among shadows a shadow, + and wail by impassable streams? + + + OENEUS. + + What thing wilt thou leave me + Now this thing is done? + A man wilt thou give me, + A son for my son, + For the light of mine eyes, the desire of my life, + the desirable one? + + + CHORUS. + + Thou wert glad above others, + Yea, fair beyond word, + Thou wert glad among mothers; + For each man that heard + Of thee, praise there was added unto thee, as wings + to the feet of a bird. + + + OENEUS. + + Who shall give back + Thy face of old years, + With travail made black, + Grown grey among fears, + Mother of sorrow, mother of cursing, mother of tears? + + + MELEAGER. + + Though thou art as fire + Fed with fuel in vain, + My delight, my desire, + Is more chaste than the rain, + More pure than the dewfall, more holy than stars + are that live without stain. + + + ATALANTA. + + I would that as water + My life's blood had thawn, + Or as winter's wan daughter + Leaves lowland and lawn + Spring-stricken, or ever mine eyes had beheld thee + made dark in thy dawn. + + + CHORUS. + + When thou dravest the men + Of the chosen of Thrace, + None turned him again + Nor endured he thy face + Clothed round with the blush of the battle, + with light from a terrible place. + + + OENEUS. + + Thou shouldst die as he dies + For whom none sheddeth tears; + Filling thine eyes + And fulfilling thine ears + With the brilliance of battle, the bloom and the beauty, + the splendour of spears. + + + CHORUS. + + In the ears of the world + It is sung, it is told, + And the light thereof hurled + And the noise thereof rolled + From the Acroceraunian snow to the ford + of the fleece of gold. + + + MELEAGER. + + Would God ye could carry me + Forth of all these; + Heap sand and bury me + By the Chersonese + Where the thundering Bosphorus answers + the thunder of Pontic seas. + + + OENEUS. + + Dost thou mock at our praise + And the singing begun + And the men of strange days + Praising my son + In the folds of the hills of home, + high places of Calydon? + + + MELEAGER. + + For the dead man no home is; + Ah, better to be + What the flower of the foam is + In fields of the sea, + That the sea-waves might be as my raiment, + the gulf-stream a garment for me. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall seek thee and bring + And restore thee thy day, + When the dove dipt her wing + And the oars won their way + Where the narrowing Symplegades whitened the straits + of Propontis with spray? + + + MELEAGER. + + Will ye crown me my tomb + Or exalt me my name, + Now my spirits consume, + Now my flesh is a flame? + Let the sea slake it once, and men speak of me sleeping + to praise me or shame, + + + CHORUS. + + Turn back now, turn thee, + As who turns him to wake; + Though the life in thee burn thee, + Couldst thou bathe it and slake + Where the sea-ridge of Helle hangs heavier, + and east upon west waters break? + + + MELEAGER. + + Would the winds blow me back + Or the waves hurl me home? + Ah, to touch in the track + Where the pine learnt to roam + Cold girdles and crowns of the sea-gods, + cool blossoms of water and foam! + + + CHORUS. + + The gods may release + That they made fast; + Thy soul shall have ease + In thy limbs at the last; + But what shall they give thee for life, + sweet life that is overpast? + + + MELEAGER. + + Not the life of men's veins, + Not of flesh that conceives; + But the grace that remains, + The fair beauty that cleaves + To the life of the rains in the grasses, + the life of the dews on the leaves. + + + CHORUS. + + Thou wert helmsman and chief, + Wilt thou turn in an hour, + Thy limbs to the leaf, + Thy face to the flower, + Thy blood to the water, thy soul to the gods + who divide and devour? + + + MELEAGER. + + The years are hungry, + They wail all their days; + The gods wax angry + And weary of praise; + And who shall bridle their lips? + and who shall straiten their ways? + + + CHORUS. + + The gods guard over us + With sword and with rod; + Weaving shadow to cover us, + Heaping the sod, + That law may fulfil herself wholly, + to darken man's face before God. + + + MELEAGER. + + O holy head of Oeneus, lo thy son + Guiltless, yet red from alien guilt, yet foul + With kinship of contaminated lives, + Lo, for their blood I die; and mine own blood + For bloodshedding of mine is mixed therewith, + That death may not discern me from my kin. + Yet with clean heart I die and faultless hand, + Not shamefully; thou therefore of thy love + Salute me, and bid fare among the dead + Well, as the dead fare; for the best man dead + Fares sadly; nathless I now faring well + Pass without fear where nothing is to fear + Having thy love about me and thy goodwill, + O father, among dark places and men dead. + + + OENEUS. + + Child, I salute thee with sad heart and tears, + And bid thee comfort, being a perfect man + In fight, and honourable in the house of peace. + The gods give thee fair wage and dues of death, + And me brief days and ways to come at thee. + + + MELEAGER. + + Pray thou thy days be long before thy death, + And full of ease and kingdom; seeing in death + There is no comfort and none aftergrowth, + Nor shall one thence look up and see day's dawn + Nor light upon the land whither I go. + Live thou and take thy fill of days and die + When thy day comes; and make not much of death + Lest ere thy day thou reap an evil thing. + Thou too, the bitter mother and mother-plague + Of this my weary body--thou too, queen, + The source and end, the sower and the scythe, + The rain that ripens and the drought that slays, + The sand that swallows and the spring that feeds, + To make me and unmake me--thou, I say, + Althaea, since my father's ploughshare, drawn + Through fatal seedland of a female field, + Furrowed thy body, whence a wheaten ear + Strong from the sun and fragrant from the rains + I sprang and cleft the closure of thy womb, + Mother, I dying with unforgetful tongue + Hail thee as holy and worship thee as just + Who art unjust and unholy; and with my knees + Would worship, but thy fire and subtlety, + Dissundering them, devour me; for these limbs + Are as light dust and crumblings from mine urn + Before the fire has touched them; and my face + As a dead leaf or dead foot's mark on snow, + And all this body a broken barren tree + That was so strong, and all this flower of life + Disbranched and desecrated miserably, + And minished all that god-like muscle and might + And lesser than a man's: for all my veins + Fail me, and all mine ashen life burns down. + I would thou hadst let me live; but gods averse, + But fortune, and the fiery feet of change, + And time, these would not, these tread out my life, + These and not thou; me too thou hast loved, and I + Thee; but this death was mixed with all my life, + Mine end with my beginning: and this law, + This only, slays me, and not my mother at all. + And let no brother or sister grieve too sore, + Nor melt their hearts out on me with their tears, + Since extreme love and sorrowing overmuch + Vex the great gods, and overloving men + Slay and are slain for love's sake; and this house + Shall bear much better children; why should these + Weep? but in patience let them live their lives + And mine pass by forgotten: thou alone, + Mother, thou sole and only, thou not these, + Keep me in mind a little when I die + Because I was thy first-born; let thy soul + Pity me, pity even me gone hence and dead, + Though thou wert wroth, and though thou bear again + Much happier sons, and all men later born + Exceedingly excel me; yet do thou + Forget not, nor think shame; I was thy son. + Time was I did not shame thee, and time was + I thought to live and make thee honourable + With deeds as great as these men's; but they live, + These, and I die; and what thing should have been + Surely I know not; yet I charge thee, seeing + I am dead already, love me not the less, + Me, O my mother; I charge thee by these gods, + My father's, and that holier breast of thine, + By these that see me dying, and that which nursed, + Love me not less, thy first-born: though grief come, + Grief only, of me, and of all these great joy, + And shall come always to thee; for thou knowest, + O mother, O breasts that bare me, for ye know, + O sweet head of my mother, sacred eyes, + Ye know my soul albeit I sinned, ye know + Albeit I kneel not neither touch thy knees, + But with my lips I kneel, and with my heart + I fall about thy feet and worship thee. + And ye farewell now, all my friends; and ye, + Kinsmen, much younger and glorious more than I, + Sons of my mother's sister; and all farewell + That were in Colchis with me, and bare down + The waves and wars that met us: and though times + Change, and though now I be not anything, + Forget not me among you, what I did + In my good time; for even by all those days, + Those days and this, and your own living souls, + And by the light and luck of you that live, + And by this miserable spoil, and me + Dying, I beseech you, let my name not die. + But thou, dear, touch me with thy rose-like hands, + And fasten up mine eyelids with thy mouth, + A bitter kiss; and grasp me with thine arms, + Printing with heavy lips my light waste flesh, + Made light and thin by heavy-handed fate, + And with thine holy maiden eyes drop dew, + Drop tears for dew upon me who am dead, + Me who have loved thee; seeing without sin done + I am gone down to the empty weary house + Where no flesh is nor beauty nor swift eyes + Nor sound of mouth nor might of hands and feet, + But thou, dear, hide my body with thy veil, + And with thy raiment cover foot and head, + And stretch thyself upon me and touch hands + With hands and lips with lips: be pitiful + As thou art maiden perfect; let no man + Defile me to despise me, saying, This man + Died woman-wise, a woman's offering, slain + Through female fingers in his woof of life, + Dishonourable; for thou hast honoured me. + And now for God's sake kiss me once and twice + And let me go; for the night gathers me, + And in the night shall no man gather fruit. + + + ATALANTA. + + Hail thou: but I with heavy face and feet + Turn homeward and am gone out of thine eyes. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall contend with his lords + Or cross them or do them wrong? + Who shall bind them as with cords? + Who shall tame them as with song? + Who shall smite them as with swords? + For the hands of their kingdom are strong. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATALANTA IN CALYDON*** + + +******* This file should be named 15378-8.txt or 15378-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/3/7/15378 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Atalanta in Calydon + +Author: Algernon Charles Swinburne + +Release Date: March 16, 2005 [eBook #15378] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATALANTA IN CALYDON*** + + +E-text prepared by Al Haines + + + +ATALANTA IN CALYDON + +A Tragedy + +by + +ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE + +A New Edition + + + + + + + +Tous zontas eu dran. katthanon de pas aner Ge kai skia. to meden eis +ouden repei + +EUR. _Fr. Mel._ 20 (537). + + + + +London: +Chatto & Windus, Piccadilly +Printed by Spottiswoode and Co., New-Street Square and Parliament Street + +1885 + + + + +TO THE MEMORY + +OF + +WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR + + +I NOW DEDICATE, WITH EQUAL AFFECTION, REVERENCE, AND REGRET, A POEM +INSCRIBED TO HIM WHILE YET ALIVE IN WORDS WHICH ARE NOW RETAINED +BECAUSE THEY WERE LAID BEFORE HIM; AND TO WHICH, RATHER THAN CANCEL +THEM, I HAVE ADDED SUCH OTHERS AS WERE EVOKED BY THE NEWS OF HIS DEATH: +THAT THOUGH LOSING THE PLEASURE I MAY NOT LOSE THE HONOUR OF INSCRIBING +IN FRONT OF MY WORK THE HIGHEST OF CONTEMPORARY NAMES. + + + + + oixeo de Boreethen apotropos' alla se Numphai + egagon aspasian edupnooi kath' ala, + plerousai melitos theothen stoma, me ti Poseidon + blapsei, en osin exon sen meligerun opa. + toios aoidos ephus: emeis d' eti klaiomen, oi sou + deuometh' oixomenou, kai se pothoumen aei. + eipe de Pieridon tis anastrephtheisa pros allen: + elthen, idou, panton philtatos elthe broton, + stemmata drepsamenos neothelea xersi geraiais, + kai polion daphnais amphekalupse kara, 10 + edu ti Sikelikais epi pektisin, edu ti xordais, + aisomenos: pollen gar meteballe luran, + pollaki d' en bessaisi kathemenon euren Apollon, + anthesi d' estepsen, terpna d' edoke legein, + Pana t' aeimneston te Pitun Koruthon te dusedron, + en t' ephilese thean thnetos Amadruada: + pontou d' en megaroisin ekoimise Kumodameian, + ten t' Agamemnonian paid' apedoke patri, + pros d' ierous Delphous theoplekton epempsen Oresten, + teiromenon stugerais entha kai entha theais. 20 + + + + + oixeo de kai aneuthe philon kai aneuthen aoides, + drepsomenos malakes anthea Persephones. + oixeo: kouk et' esei, kouk au pote soi paredoumai + azomenos, xeiron xersi thigon osiais: + nun d' au mnesamenon glukupikros upeluthen aidos, + oia tuxon oiou pros sethen oios exo: + oupote sois, geron, omma philois philon ommasi terpso, + ses, geron, apsamenos, philtate, dechiteras. + e psaphara konis, e psapharos bios esti: ti touton + meion ephemerion; ou konis alla bios. 10 + alla moi eduteros ge peleis polu ton et' eonton, + epleo gar: soi men tauta thanonti phero, + paura men, all' apo keros etetuma: med' apotrephtheis, + pros de balon eti nun esuxon omma dexou. + ou gar exo, mega de ti thelon, sethen achia dounai, + thaptomenou per apon: ou gar enestin emoi: + oude melikretou parexein ganos : ei gar eneie + kai se xeroin psausai kai se pot' authis idein, + dakrusi te spondais te kara philon amphipoleuein + ophthalmous th' ierous sous ieron te demas. 20 + eith' ophelon: mala gar tad' an ampauseie merimnes: + nun de prosothen aneu sematos oikton ago: + oud' epitumbidion threno melos, all' apamuntheis, + all' apaneuthen exon amphidakruta pathe. + alla su xaire thanon, kai exon geras isthi pros andron + pros te theon, enerois ei tis epesti theos. + xaire geron, phile xaire pater, polu phertat' aoidon + on idomen, polu de phertat' aeisomenon: + xaire, kai olbon exois, oion ge thanontes exousin, + esuxian exthras kai philotetos ater. 30 + sematos oixomenou soi mnemat' es usteron estai, + soi te phile mneme mnematos oixomenou: + on Xarites klaiousi theai, klaiei d' Aphrodite + kallixorois Mouson terpsamene stephanois. + ou gar apach ierous pote geras etripsen aoidous: + tende to son phainei mnema tod' aglaian. + e philos es makaressi brotos, soi d' ei tini Numphai + dora potheina nemein, ustata dor', edosan. + tas nun xalkeos upnos ebe kai anenemos aion, + kai sunthaptomenai moiran exousi mian. 40 + eudeis kai su, kalon kai agakluton en xthoni koilei + upnon ephikomenos, ses aponosphi patras, + tele para chanthou Tursenikon oidma katheudeis + namatos, e d' eti se maia se gaia pothei, + all' apexeis, kai prosthe philoptolis on per apeipas: + eude: makar d' emin oud' amegartos esei. + baios epixthonion ge xronos kai moira kratesei, + tous de pot' euphrosune tous de pot' algos exei: + pollaki d' e blaptei phaos e skotos amphikaluptei + muromenous, daknei d' upnos egregorotas: 50 + oud' eth' ot' en tumboisi katedrathen omma thanonton + e skotos e ti phaos dechetai eeliou: + oud' onar ennuxion kai enupnion oud' upar estai + e pote terpomenois e pot' oduromenois: + all' ena pantes aei thakon sunexousi kai edran + anti brotes abroton, kallimon anti kakes. + + + + +ATALANTA IN CALYDON. + + + + +THE PERSONS. + + + CHIEF HUNTSMAN. + CHORUS. + ALTHAEA. + MELEAGER + OENEUS. + ATALANTA. + TOXEUS. + PLEXIPPUS. + HERALD. + MESSENGER. + SECOND MESSENGER. + + + + + isto d' ostis oux upopteros + phrontisin daeis, + tan a paidolumas talaina THestias mesato + purdae tina pronoian, + kataithousa paidos daphoinon + dalon elik', epei molon + matrothen keladese; + summetron te diai biou + moirokranton es amar. + + Aesch. Cho. 602-612 + + + + +THE ARGUMENT. + +Althaea, daughter of Thestius and Eurythemis, queen of Calydon, being +with child of Meleager her first-born son, dreamed that she brought +forth a brand burning; and upon his birth came the three Fates and +prophesied of him three things, namely these; that he should have great +strength of his hands, and good fortune in this life, and that he +should live no longer when the brand then in the fire were consumed: +wherefore his mother plucked it forth and kept it by her. And the +child being a man grown sailed with Jason after the fleece of gold, and +won himself great praise of all men living; and when the tribes of the +north and west made war upon Aetolia, he fought against their army and +scattered it. But Artemis, having at the first stirred up these tribes +to war against Oeneus king of Calydon, because he had offered sacrifice +to all the gods saving her alone, but her he had forgotten to honour, +was yet more wroth because of the destruction of this army, and sent +upon the land of Calydon a wild boar which slew many and wasted all +their increase, but him could none slay, and many went against him and +perished. Then were all the chief men of Greece gathered together, and +among them Atalanta daughter of Iasius the Arcadian, a virgin, for +whose sake Artemis let slay the boar, seeing she favoured the maiden +greatly; and Meleager having despatched it gave the spoil thereof to +Atalanta, as one beyond measure enamoured of her; but the brethren of +Althaea his mother, Toxeus and Plexippus, with such others as misliked +that she only should bear off the praise whereas many had borne the +labour, laid wait for her to take away her spoil; but Meleager fought +against them and slew them: whom when Althaea their sister beheld and +knew to be slain of her son, she waxed for wrath and sorrow like as one +mad, and taking the brand whereby the measure of her son's life was +meted to him, she cast it upon a fire; and with the wasting thereof his +life likewise wasted away, that being brought back to his father's +house he died in a brief space, and his mother also endured not long +after for very sorrow; and this was his end, and the end of that +hunting. + + + + + ATALANTA IN CALYDON. + + + CHIEF HUNTSMAN. + + Maiden, and mistress of the months and stars + Now folded in the flowerless fields of heaven, + Goddess whom all gods love with threefold heart, + Being treble in thy divided deity, + A light for dead men and dark hours, a foot + Swift on the hills as morning, and a hand + To all things fierce and fleet that roar and range + Mortal, with gentler shafts than snow or sleep; + Hear now and help and lift no violent hand, + But favourable and fair as thine eye's beam + Hidden and shown in heaven, for I all night + Amid the king's hounds and the hunting men + Have wrought and worshipped toward thee; nor shall man + See goodlier hounds or deadlier edge of spears, + But for the end, that lies unreached at yet + Between the hands and on the knees of gods, + O fair-faced sun killing the stars and dews + And dreams and desolation of the night! + Rise up, shine, stretch thine hand out, with thy bow + Touch the most dimmest height of trembling heaven, + And burn and break the dark about thy ways, + Shot through and through with arrows; let thine hair + Lighten as flame above that nameless shell + Which was the moon, and thine eyes fill the world + And thy lips kindle with swift beams; let earth + Laugh, and the long sea fiery from thy feet + Through all the roar and ripple of streaming springs + And foam in reddening flakes and flying flowers + Shaken from hands and blown from lips of nymphs + Whose hair or breast divides the wandering wave + With salt close tresses cleaving lock to lock, + All gold, or shuddering and unfurrowed snow; + And all the winds about thee with their wings, + And fountain-heads of all the watered world; + Each horn of Acheloues, and the green + Euenus, wedded with the straitening sea. + For in fair time thou comest; come also thou, + Twin-born with him, and virgin, Artemis, + And give our spears their spoil, the wild boar's hide. + Sent in thine anger against us for sin done + And bloodless altars without wine or fire. + Him now consume thou; for thy sacrifice + With sanguine-shining steam divides the dawn, + And one, the maiden rose of all thy maids, + Arcadian Atalanta, snowy-souled, + Fair as the snow and footed as the wind, + From Ladon and well-wooded Maenalus + Over the firm hills and the fleeting sea + Hast thou drawn hither, and many an armed king, + Heroes, the crown of men, like gods in fight. + Moreover out of all the Aetolian land, + From the full-flowered Lelantian pasturage + To what of fruitful field the son of Zeus + Won from the roaring river and labouring sea + When the wild god shrank in his horn and fled + And foamed and lessened through his wrathful fords, + Leaving clear lands that steamed with sudden sun, + These virgins with the lightening of the day + Bring thee fresh wreaths and their own sweeter hair, + Luxurious locks and flower-like mixed with flowers, + Clean offering, and chaste hymns; but me the time + Divides from these things; whom do thou not less + Help and give honour, and to mine hounds good speed, + And edge to spears, and luck to each man's hand. + + + CHORUS. + + When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces, + The mother of months in meadow or plain + Fills the shadows and windy places + With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; + And the brown bright nightingale amorous + Is half assuaged for Itylus, + For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, + The tongueless vigil, and all the pain. + + Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers. + Maiden most perfect, lady of light, + With a noise of winds and many rivers, + With a clamour of waters, and with might; + Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, + Over the splendour and speed of thy feet; + For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers, + Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. + + Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her, + Fold our hands round her knees, and cling? + O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her, + Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring! + For the stars and the winds are unto her + As raiment, as songs of the harp-player; + For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her, + And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing. + + For winter's rains and ruins are over, + And all the season of snows, and sins; + The days dividing lover and lover, + The light that loses, the night that wins; + And time remembered is grief forgotten, + And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, + And in green underwood and cover + Blossom by blossom the spring begins. + + The full streams feed on flower of rushes, + Ripe grasses trammel a travelling foot, + The faint fresh flame of the young year flushes + From leaf to flower and flower to fruit, + And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire, + And the oat is heard above the lyre, + And the hoofed heel of a satyr crushes + The chestnut-husk at the chestnut-root. + + And Pan by noon and Bacchus by night, + Fleeter of foot than the fleet-foot kid, + Follows with dancing and fills with delight + The Maenad and the Bassarid; + And soft as lips that laugh and hide + The laughing leaves of the trees divide, + And screen from seeing and leave in sight + The god pursuing, the maiden hid. + + The ivy falls with the Bacchanal's hair + Over her eyebrows hiding her eyes; + The wild vine slipping down leaves bare + Her bright breast shortening into sighs; + The wild vine slips with the weight of its leaves. + But the berried ivy catches and cleaves + To the limbs that glitter, the feet that scare + The wolf that follows, the fawn that flies. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What do ye singing? what is this ye sing? + + + CHORUS. + + Flowers bring we, and pure lips that please the gods, + And raiment meet for service: lest the day + Turn sharp with all its honey in our lips. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Night, a black hound, follows the white fawn day, + Swifter than dreams the white flown feet of sleep; + Will ye pray back the night with any prayers? + And though the spring put back a little while + Winter, and snows that plague all men for sin, + And the iron time of cursing, yet I know + Spring shall be ruined with the rain, and storm + Eat up like fire the ashen autumn days. + I marvel what men do with prayers awake + Who dream and die with dreaming; any god, + Yea the least god of all things called divine, + Is more than sleep and waking; yet we say, + Perchance by praying a man shall match his god. + For if sleep have no mercy, and man's dreams + Bite to the blood and burn into the bone, + What shall this man do waking? By the gods, + He shall not pray to dream sweet things to-night, + Having dreamt once more bitter things than death. + + + CHORUS. + + Queen, but what is it that hath burnt thine heart? + For thy speech flickers like a brown-out flame. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look, ye say well, and know not what ye say, + For all my sleep is turned into a fire, + And all my dreams to stuff that kindles it. + + + CHORUS. + + Yet one doth well being patient of the gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, lest they smite us with some four-foot plague. + + + CHORUS. + + But when time spreads find out some herb for it. + + + ALTHAEA. + + And with their healing herbs infect our blood. + + + CHORUS. + + What ails thee to be jealous of their ways? + + + ALTHAEA. + + What if they give us poisonous drinks for wine? + + + CHORUS. + + They have their will; much talking mends it not. + + + ALTHAEA. + + And gall for milk, and cursing for a prayer? + + + CHORUS. + + Have they not given life, and the end of life? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Lo, where they heal, they help not; thus they do, + They mock us with a little piteousness, + And we say prayers, and weep; but at the last, + Sparing awhile, they smite and spare no whit. + + + CHORUS. + + Small praise man gets dispraising the high gods: + What have they done that thou dishonourest them? + + + ALTHAEA. + + First Artemis for all this harried land + I praise not; and for wasting of the boar + That mars with tooth and tusk and fiery feet + Green pasturage and the grace of standing corn + And meadow and marsh with springs and unblown leaves, + Flocks and swift herds and all that bite sweet grass, + I praise her not, what things are these to praise? + + + CHORUS. + + But when the king did sacrifice, and gave + Each god fair dues of wheat and blood and wine, + Her not with bloodshed nor burnt-offering + Revered he, nor with salt or cloven cake; + Wherefore being wroth she plagued the land, but now + Takes off from us fate and her heavy things. + Which deed of these twain were not good to praise? + For a just deed looks always either way + With blameless eyes, and mercy is no fault. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, but a curse she hath sent above all these + To hurt us where she healed us; and hath lit + Fire where the old fire went out, and where the wind + Slackened, hath blown on us with deadlier air. + + + CHORUS. + + What storm is this that tightens all our sail? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Love, a thwart sea-wind full of rain and foam. + + + CHORUS. + + Whence blown, and born under what stormier star? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Southward across Euenus from the sea. + + + CHORUS. + + Thy speech turns toward Arcadia like blown wind. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Sharp as the north sets when the snows are out. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, for this maiden hath no touch of love. + + ALTHAEA. + + I would she had sought in some cold gulf of sea + Love, or in dens where strange beasts lurk, or fire, + Or snows on the extreme hills, or iron land + Where no spring is; I would she had sought therein + And found, or ever love had found her here. + + + CHORUS. + + She is holier than all holy days or things, + The sprinkled water or fume of perfect fire; + Chaste, dedicated to pure prayers, and filled + With higher thoughts than heaven; a maiden clean, + Pure iron, fashioned for a sword, and man + She loves not; what should one such do with love? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look you, I speak not as one light of wit, + But as a queen speaks, being heart-vexed; for oft + I hear my brothers wrangling in mid hall, + And am not moved; and my son chiding them, + And these things nowise move me, but I know + Foolish and wise men must be to the end, + And feed myself with patience; but this most, + This moves me, that for wise men as for fools + Love is one thing, an evil thing, and turns + Choice words and wisdom into fire and air. + And in the end shall no joy come, but grief, + Sharp words and soul's division and fresh tears + Flower-wise upon the old root of tears brought forth, + Fruit-wise upon the old flower of tears sprung up, + Pitiful sighs, and much regrafted pain. + These things are in my presage, and myself + Am part of them and know not; but in dreams + The gods are heavy on me, and all the fates + Shed fire across my eyelids mixed with night, + And burn me blind, and disilluminate + My sense of seeing, and my perspicuous soul + Darken with vision; seeing I see not, hear + And hearing am not holpen, but mine eyes + Stain many tender broideries in the bed + Drawn up about my face that I may weep + And the king wake not; and my brows and lips + Tremble and sob in sleeping, like swift flames + That tremble, or water when it sobs with heat + Kindled from under; and my tears fill my breast + And speck the fair dyed pillows round the king + With barren showers and salter than the sea, + Such dreams divide me dreaming; for long since + I dreamed that out of this my womb had sprung + Fire and a firebrand; this was ere my son, + Meleager, a goodly flower in fields of fight, + Felt the light touch him coming forth, and waited + Childlike; but yet he was not; and in time + I bare him, and my heart was great; for yet + So royally was never strong man born, + Nor queen so nobly bore as noble a thing + As this my son was: such a birth God sent + And such a grace to bear it. Then came in + Three weaving women, and span each a thread, + Saying This for strength and That for luck, and one + Saying Till the brand upon the hearth burn down, + So long shall this man see good days and live. + And I with gathered raiment from the bed + Sprang, and drew forth the brand, and cast on it + Water, and trod the flame bare-foot, and crushed + With naked hand spark beaten out of spark + And blew against and quenched it; for I said, + These are the most high Fates that dwell with us, + And we find favour a little in their sight, + A little, and more we miss of, and much time + Foils us; howbeit they have pitied me, O son, + And thee most piteous, thee a tenderer thing + Than any flower of fleshly seed alive. + Wherefore I kissed and hid him with my hands, + And covered under arms and hair, and wept, + And feared to touch him with my tears, and laughed; + So light a thing was this man, grown so great + Men cast their heads back, seeing against the sun + Blaze the armed man carven on his shield, and hear + The laughter of little bells along the brace + Ring, as birds singing or flutes blown, and watch, + High up, the cloven shadow of either plume + Divide the bright light of the brass, and make + His helmet as a windy and wintering moon + Seen through blown cloud and plume-like drift, when ships + Drive, and men strive with all the sea, and oars + Break, and the beaks dip under, drinking death; + Yet was he then but a span long, and moaned + With inarticulate mouth inseparate words, + And with blind lips and fingers wrung my breast + Hard, and thrust out with foolish hands and feet, + Murmuring; but those grey women with bound hair + Who fright the gods frighted not him; he laughed + Seeing them, and pushed out hands to feel and haul + Distaff and thread, intangible; but they + Passed, and I hid the brand, and in my heart + Laughed likewise, having all my will of heaven. + But now I know not if to left or right + The gods have drawn us hither; for again + I dreamt, and saw the black brand burst on fire + As a branch bursts in flower, and saw the flame + Fade flower-wise, and Death came and with dry lips + Blew the charred ash into my breast; and Love + Trampled the ember and crushed it with swift feet + This I have also at heart; that not for me, + Not for me only or son of mine, O girls, + The gods have wrought life, and desire of life, + Heart's love and heart's division; but for all + There shines one sun and one wind blows till night. + And when night comes the wind sinks and the sun, + And there is no light after, and no storm, + But sleep and much forgetfulness of things. + In such wise I gat knowledge of the gods + Years hence, and heard high sayings of one most wise, + Eurythemis my mother, who beheld + With eyes alive and spake with lips of these + As one on earth disfleshed and disallied + From breath or blood corruptible; such gifts + Time gave her, and an equal soul to these + And equal face to all things, thus she said. + But whatsoever intolerable or glad + The swift hours weave and unweave, I go hence + Full of mine own soul, perfect of myself, + Toward mine and me sufficient; and what chance + The gods cast lots for and shake out on us, + That shall we take, and that much bear withal. + And now, before these gather to the hunt, + I will go arm my son and bring him forth, + Lest love or some man's anger work him harm. + + + CHORUS. + + Before the beginning of years + There came to the making of man + Time, with a gift of tears, + Grief, with a glass that ran; + Pleasure, with pain for leaven; + Summer, with flowers that fell; + Remembrance fallen from heaven, + And madness risen from hell; + Strength without hands to smite, + Love that endures for a breath, + Night, the shadow of light, + And life, the shadow of death. + + And the high gods took in hand + Fire, and the falling of tears, + And a measure of sliding sand + From under the feet of the years, + And froth and drift of the sea; + And dust of the labouring earth; + And bodies of things to be + In the houses of death and of birth; + And wrought with weeping and laughter, + And fashioned with loathing and love, + With life before and after + And death beneath and above, + For a day and a night and a morrow, + That his strength might endure for a span + With travail and heavy sorrow, + The holy spirit of man. + + From the winds of the north and the south + They gathered as unto strife; + They breathed upon his mouth, + They filled his body with life; + Eyesight and speech they wrought + For the veils of the soul therein, + A time for labour and thought, + A time to serve and to sin; + They gave him light in his ways, + And love, and a space for delight, + And beauty and length of days, + And night, and sleep in the night. + His speech is a burning fire; + With his lips he travaileth, + In his heart is a blind desire, + In his eyes foreknowledge of death; + He weaves, and is clothed with derision; + Sows, and he shall not reap, + His life is a watch or a vision + Between a sleep and a sleep. + + + MELEAGER. + + O sweet new heaven and air without a star, + Fair day, be fair and welcome, as to men + With deeds to do and praise to pluck from thee, + Come forth a child, born with clear sound and light, + With laughter and swift limbs and prosperous looks; + That this great hunt with heroes for the hounds + May leave thee memorable and us well sped. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Son, first I praise thy prayer, then bid thee speed; + But the gods hear men's hands before their lips, + And heed beyond all crying and sacrifice + Light of things done and noise of labouring men. + But thou, being armed and perfect for the deed, + Abide; for like rain-flakes in a wind they grow, + The men thy fellows, and the choice of the world, + Bound to root out the tusked plague, and leave + Thanks and safe days and peace in Calydon. + + + MELEAGER. + + For the whole city and all the low-lying land + Flames, and the soft air sounds with them that come; + The gods give all these fruit of all their works. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Set thine eye thither and fix thy spirit and say + Whom there thou knowest; for sharp mixed shadow and wind + Blown up between the morning and the mist, + With steam of steeds and flash of bridle or wheel, + And fire, and parcels of the broken dawn, + And dust divided by hard light, and spears + That shine and shift as the edge of wild beasts' eyes, + Smite upon mine; so fiery their blind edge + Burns, and bright points break up and baffle day. + + + MELEAGER. + + The first, for many I know not, being far off, + Peleus the Larissaean, couched with whom + Sleeps the white sea-bred wife and silver-shod, + Fair as fled foam, a goddess; and their son + Most swift and splendid of men's children born, + Most like a god, full of the future fame. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Who are these shining like one sundered star? + + + MELEAGER. + + Thy sister's sons, a double flower of men. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O sweetest kin to me in all the world, + O twin-born blood of Leda, gracious heads + Like kindled lights in untempestuous heaven, + Fair flower-like stars on the iron foam of fight, + With what glad heart and kindliness of soul, + Even to the staining of both eyes with tears + And kindling of warm eyelids with desire, + A great way off I greet you, and rejoice + Seeing you so fair, and moulded like as gods. + Far off ye come, and least in years of these, + But lordliest, but worth love to look upon. + + + MELEAGER. + + Even such (for sailing hither I saw far hence, + And where Eurotas hollows his moist rock + Nigh Sparta with a strenuous-hearted stream) + Even such I saw their sisters; one swan-white, + The little Helen, and less fair than she + Fair Clytaemnestra, grave as pasturing fawns + Who feed and fear some arrow; but at whiles, + As one smitten with love or wrung with joy, + She laughs and lightens with her eyes, and then + Weeps; whereat Helen, having laughed, weeps too, + And the other chides her, and she being chid speaks nought, + But cheeks and lips and eyelids kisses her, + Laughing; so fare they, as in their bloomless bud + And full of unblown life, the blood of gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Sweet days befall them and good loves and lords, + And tender and temperate honours of the hearth, + Peace, and a perfect life and blameless bed. + But who shows next an eagle wrought in gold? + That flames and beats broad wings against the sun + And with void mouth gapes after emptier prey? + + + MELEAGER. + + Know by that sign the reign of Telamon + Between the fierce mouths of the encountering brine + On the strait reefs of twice-washed Salamis. + + + ALTHAEA. + + For like one great of hand he bears himself, + Vine-chapleted, with savours of the sea, + Glittering as wine and moving as a wave. + But who girt round there roughly follows him? + + + MELEAGER. + + Ancaeus, great of hand, an iron bulk, + Two-edged for fight as the axe against his arm, + Who drives against the surge of stormy spears + Full-sailed; him Cepheus follows, his twin-born, + Chief name next his of all Arcadian men. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Praise be with men abroad; chaste lives with us, + Home-keeping days and household reverences. + + + MELEAGER. + + Next by the left unsandalled foot know thou + The sail and oar of this Aetolian land, + Thy brethren, Toxeus and the violent-souled + Plexippus, over-swift with hand and tongue; + For hands are fruitful, but the ignorant mouth + Blows and corrupts their work with barren breath. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Speech too bears fruit, being worthy; and air blows down + Things poisonous, and high-seated violences, + And with charmed words and songs have men put out + Wild evil, and the fire of tyrannies. + + + MELEAGER. + + Yea, all things have they, save the gods and love. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Love thou the law and cleave to things ordained. + + + MELEAGER. + + Law lives upon their lips whom these applaud. + + + ALTHAEA. + + How sayest thou these? what god applauds new things? + + + MELEAGER. + + Zeus, who hath fear and custom under foot. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But loves not laws thrown down and lives awry. + + + MELEAGER. + + Yet is not less himself than his own law. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Nor shifts and shuffles old things up and down. + + + MELEAGER. + + But what he will remoulds and discreates. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Much, but not this, that each thing live its life. + + + MELEAGER. + + Nor only live, but lighten and lift up higher. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Pride breaks itself, and too much gained is gone. + + + MELEAGER. + + Things gained are gone, but great things done endure. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Child, if a man serve law through all his life + And with his whole heart worship, him all gods + Praise; but who loves it only with his lips, + And not in heart and deed desiring it + Hides a perverse will with obsequious words, + Him heaven infatuates and his twin-born fate + Tracks, and gains on him, scenting sins far off, + And the swift hounds of violent death devour. + Be man at one with equal-minded gods, + So shall he prosper; not through laws torn up, + Violated rule and a new face of things. + A woman armed makes war upon herself, + Unwomanlike, and treads down use and wont + And the sweet common honour that she hath, + Love, and the cry of children, and the hand + Trothplight and mutual mouth of marriages. + This doth she, being unloved, whom if one love, + Not fire nor iron and the wide-mouthed wars + Are deadlier than her lips or braided hair. + For of the one comes poison, and a curse + Falls from the other and burns the lives of men. + But thou, son, be not filled with evil dreams, + Nor with desire of these things; for with time + Blind love burns out; but if one feed it full + Till some discolouring stain dyes all his life, + He shall keep nothing praiseworthy, nor die + The sweet wise death of old men honourable, + Who have lived out all the length of all their years + Blameless, and seen well-pleased the face of gods, + And without shame and without fear have wrought + Things memorable, and while their days held out + In sight of all men and the sun's great light + Have gat them glory and given of their own praise + To the earth that bare them and the day that bred, + Home friends and far-off hospitalities, + And filled with gracious and memorial fame + Lands loved of summer or washed by violent seas, + Towns populous and many unfooted ways, + And alien lips and native with their own. + But when white age and venerable death + Mow down the strength and life within their limbs, + Drain out the blood and darken their clear eyes, + Immortal honour is on them, having past + Through splendid life and death desirable + To the clear seat and remote throne of souls, + Lands indiscoverable in the unheard-of west, + Round which the strong stream of a sacred sea + Rolls without wind for ever, and the snow + There shows not her white wings and windy feet, + Nor thunder nor swift rain saith anything, + Nor the sun burns, but all things rest and thrive; + And these, filled full of days, divine and dead, + Sages and singers fiery from the god, + And such as loved their land and all things good + And, best beloved of best men, liberty, + Free lives and lips, free hands of men free-born, + And whatsoever on earth was honourable + And whosoever of all the ephemeral seed, + Live there a life no liker to the gods + But nearer than their life of terrene days. + Love thou such life and look for such a death. + But from the light and fiery dreams of love + Spring heavy sorrows and a sleepless life, + Visions not dreams, whose lids no charm shall close + Nor song assuage them waking; and swift death + Crushes with sterile feet the unripening ear, + Treads out the timeless vintage; whom do thou + Eschewing embrace the luck of this thy life, + Not without honour; and it shall bear to thee + Such fruit as men reap from spent hours and wear, + Few men, but happy; of whom be thou, O son, + Happiest, if thou submit thy soul to fate, + And set thine eyes and heart on hopes high-born + And divine deeds and abstinence divine. + So shalt thou be toward all men all thy days + As light and might communicable, and burn + From heaven among the stars above the hours, + And break not as a man breaks nor burn down: + For to whom other of all heroic names + Have the gods given his life in hand as thine? + And gloriously hast thou lived, and made thy life + To me that bare thee and to all men born + Thankworthy, a praise for ever; and hast won fame + When wild wars broke all round thy father's house, + And the mad people of windy mountain ways + Laid spears against us like a sea, and all + Aetolia thundered with Thessalian hoofs; + Yet these, as wind baffles the foam, and beats + Straight back the relaxed ripple, didst thou break + And loosen all their lances, till undone + And man from man they fell; for ye twain stood + God against god, Ares and Artemis, + And thou the mightier; wherefore she unleashed + A sharp-toothed curse thou too shalt overcome; + For in the greener blossom of thy life + Ere the full blade caught flower, and when time gave + Respite, thou didst not slacken soul nor sleep, + But with great hand and heart seek praise of men + Out of sharp straits and many a grievous thing, + Seeing the strange foam of undivided seas + On channels never sailed in, and by shores + Where the old winds cease not blowing, and all the night + Thunders, and day is no delight to men. + + + CHORUS. + + Meleager, a noble wisdom and fair words + The gods have given this woman, hear thou these. + + + MELEAGER. + + O mother, I am not fain to strive in speech + Nor set my mouth against thee, who art wise + Even as they say and full of sacred words. + But one thing I know surely, and cleave to this; + That though I be not subtle of wit as thou + Nor womanlike to weave sweet words, and melt + Mutable minds of wise men as with fire, + I too, doing justly and reverencing the gods, + Shall not want wit to see what things be right. + For whom they love and whom reject, being gods, + There is no man but seeth, and in good time + Submits himself, refraining all his heart. + And I too as thou sayest have seen great things; + Seen otherwhere, but chiefly when the sail + First caught between stretched ropes the roaring west, + And all our oars smote eastward, and the wind + First flung round faces of seafaring men + White splendid snow-flakes of the sundering foam, + And the first furrow in virginal green sea + Followed the plunging ploughshare of hewn pine, + And closed, as when deep sleep subdues man's breath + Lips close and heart subsides; and closing, shone + Sunlike with many a Nereid's hair, and moved + Round many a trembling mouth of doubtful gods, + Risen out of sunless and sonorous gulfs + Through waning water and into shallow light, + That watched us; and when flying the dove was snared + As with men's hands, but we shot after and sped + Clear through the irremeable Symplegades; + And chiefliest when hoar beach and herbless cliff + Stood out ahead from Colchis, and we heard + Clefts hoarse with wind, and saw through narrowing reefs + The lightning of the intolerable wave + Flash, and the white wet flame of breakers burn + Far under a kindling south-wind, as a lamp + Burns and bends all its blowing flame one way; + Wild heights untravelled of the wind, and vales + Cloven seaward by their violent streams, and white + With bitter flowers and bright salt scurf of brine; + Heard sweep their sharp swift gales, and bowing bird-wise + Shriek with birds' voices, and with furious feet + Tread loose the long skirts of a storm; and saw + The whole white Euxine clash together and fall + Full-mouthed, and thunderous from a thousand throats; + Yet we drew thither and won the fleece and won + Medea, deadlier than the sea; but there + Seeing many a wonder and fearful things to men + I saw not one thing like this one seen here, + Most fair and fearful, feminine, a god, + Faultless; whom I that love not, being unlike, + Fear, and give honour, and choose from all the gods. + + + OENEUS. + + Lady, the daughter of Thestius, and thou, son, + Not ignorant of your strife nor light of wit, + Scared with vain dreams and fluttering like spent fire, + I come to judge between you, but a king + Full of past days and wise from years endured. + Nor thee I praise, who art fain to undo things done; + Nor thee, who art swift to esteem them overmuch. + For what the hours have given is given, and this + Changeless; howbeit these change, and in good time + Devise new things and good, not one thing still. + Us have they sent now at our need for help + Among men armed a woman, foreign born, + Virgin, not like the natural flower of things + That grows and bears and brings forth fruit and dies, + Unlovable, no light for a husband's house, + Espoused; a glory among unwedded girls, + And chosen of gods who reverence maidenhood. + These too we honour in honouring her; but thou, + Abstain thy feet from following, and thine eyes + From amorous touch; nor set toward hers thine heart, + Son, lest hate bear no deadlier fruit than love. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O king, thou art wise, but wisdom halts, and just, + But the gods love not justice more than fate, + And smite the righteous and the violent mouth, + And mix with insolent blood the reverent man's, + And bruise the holier as the lying lips. + Enough; for wise words fail me, and my heart + Takes fire and trembles flamewise, O my son, + O child, for thine head's sake; mine eyes wax thick, + Turning toward thee, so goodly a weaponed man, + So glorious; and for love of thine own eyes + They are darkened, and tears burn them, fierce as fire, + And my lips pause and my soul sinks with love. + But by thine hand, by thy sweet life and eyes, + By thy great heart and these clasped knees, O son, + I pray thee that thou slay me not with thee. + For there was never a mother woman-born + Loved her sons better; and never a queen of men + More perfect in her heart toward whom she loved. + For what lies light on many and they forget, + Small things and transitory as a wind o' the sea, + I forget never; I have seen thee all thine years + A man in arms, strong and a joy to men + Seeing thine head glitter and thine hand burn its way + Through a heavy and iron furrow of sundering spears; + But always also a flower of three suns old, + The small one thing that lying drew down my life + To lie with thee and feed thee; a child and weak, + Mine, a delight to no man, sweet to me. + Who then sought to thee? who gat help? who knew + If thou wert goodly? nay, no man at all. + Or what sea saw thee, or sounded with thine oar, + Child? or what strange land shone with war through thee? + But fair for me thou wert, O little life, + Fruitless, the fruit of mine own flesh, and blind, + More than much gold, ungrown, a foolish flower. + For silver nor bright snow nor feather of foam + Was whiter, and no gold yellower than thine hair, + O child, my child; and now thou art lordlier grown, + Not lovelier, nor a new thing in mine eyes, + I charge thee by thy soul and this my breast, + Fear thou the gods and me and thine own heart, + Lest all these turn against thee; for who knows + What wind upon what wave of altering time + Shall speak a storm and blow calamity? + And there is nothing stabile in the world + But the gods break it; yet not less, fair son, + If but one thing be stronger, if one endure, + Surely the bitter and the rooted love + That burns between us, going from me to thee, + Shall more endure than all things. What dost thou, + Following strange loves? why wilt thou kill mine heart? + Lo, I talk wild and windy words, and fall + From my clear wits, and seem of mine own self + Dethroned, dispraised, disseated; and my mind, + That was my crown, breaks, and mine heart is gone, + And I am naked of my soul, and stand + Ashamed, as a mean woman; take thou thought: + Live if thou wilt, and if thou wilt not, look, + The gods have given thee life to lose or keep, + Thou shalt not die as men die, but thine end + Fallen upon thee shall break me unaware. + + + MELEAGER. + + Queen, my whole heart is molten with thy tears, + And my limbs yearn with pity of thee, and love + Compels with grief mine eyes and labouring breath: + For what thou art I know thee, and this thy breast + And thy fair eyes I worship, and am bound + Toward thee in spirit and love thee in all my soul. + For there is nothing terribler to men + Than the sweet face of mothers, and the might + But what shall be let be; for us the day + Once only lives a little, and is not found. + Time and the fruitful hour are more than we, + And these lay hold upon us; but thou, God, + Zeus, the sole steersman of the helm of things, + Father, be swift to see us, and as thou wilt + Help: or if adverse, as thou wilt, refrain. + + + CHORUS. + + We have seen thee, O Love, thou art fair, thou art goodly, O Love, + Thy wings make light in the air as the wings of a dove. + Thy feet are as winds that divide the stream of the sea; + Earth is thy covering to hide thee, the garment of thee. + Thou art swift and subtle and blind as a flame of fire; + Before thee the laughter, behind thee the tears of desire; + And twain go forth beside thee, a man with a maid; + Her eyes are the eyes of a bride whom delight makes afraid; + As the breath in the buds that stir is her bridal breath: + But Fate is the name of her; and his name is Death. + + For an evil blossom was born + Of sea-foam and the frothing of blood, + Blood-red and bitter of fruit, + And the seed of it laughter and tears, + And the leaves of it madness and scorn; + A bitter flower from the bud, + Sprung of the sea without root, + Sprung without graft from the years. + + The weft of the world was untorn + That is woven of the day on the night, + The hair of the hours was not white + Nor the raiment of time overworn, + When a wonder, a world's delight, + A perilous goddess was born, + And the waves of the sea as she came + Clove, and the foam at her feet, + Fawning, rejoiced to bring forth + A fleshly blossom, a flame + Filling the heavens with heat + To the cold white ends of the north. + + And in air the clamorous birds, + And men upon earth that hear + Sweet articulate words + Sweetly divided apart, + And in shallow and channel and mere + The rapid and footless herds, + Rejoiced, being foolish of heart. + + For all they said upon earth, + She is fair, she is white like a dove, + And the life of the world in her breath + Breathes, and is born at her birth; + For they knew thee for mother of love, + And knew thee not mother of death. + + What hadst thou to do being born, + Mother, when winds were at ease, + As a flower of the springtime of corn, + A flower of the foam of the seas? + For bitter thou wast from thy birth, + Aphrodite, a mother of strife; + For before thee some rest was on earth, + A little respite from tears, + A little pleasure of life; + For life was not then as thou art, + But as one that waxeth in years + Sweet-spoken, a fruitful wife; + Earth had no thorn, and desire + No sting, neither death any dart; + What hadst thou to do amongst these, + Thou, clothed with a burning fire, + Thou, girt with sorrow of heart, + Thou, sprung of the seed of the seas + As an ear from a seed of corn, + As a brand plucked forth of a pyre, + As a ray shed forth of the morn, + For division of soul and disease, + For a dart and a sting and a thorn? + What ailed thee then to be born? + + Was there not evil enough, + Mother, and anguish on earth + Born with a man at his birth, + Wastes underfoot, and above + Storm out of heaven, and dearth + Shaken down from the shining thereof, + Wrecks from afar overseas + And peril of shallow and firth, + And tears that spring and increase + In the barren places of mirth, + That thou, having wings as a dove, + Being girt with desire for a girth, + That thou must come after these, + That thou must lay on him love? + + Thou shouldst not so have been born: + But death should have risen with thee, + Mother, and visible fear, + Grief, and the wringing of hands, + And noise of many that mourn; + The smitten bosom, the knee + Bowed, and in each man's ear + A cry as of perishing lands, + A moan as of people in prison, + A tumult of infinite griefs; + And thunder of storm on the sands, + And wailing of wives on the shore; + And under thee newly arisen + Loud shoals and shipwrecking reefs, + Fierce air and violent light, + Sail rent and sundering oar, + Darkness; and noises of night; + Clashing of streams in the sea, + Wave against wave as a sword, + Clamour of currents, and foam, + Rains making ruin on earth, + Winds that wax ravenous and roam + As wolves in a wolfish horde; + Fruits growing faint in the tree, + And blind things dead in their birth + Famine, and blighting of corn, + When thy time was come to be born. + + All these we know of; but thee + Who shall discern or declare? + In the uttermost ends of the sea + The light of thine eyelids and hair. + The light of thy bosom as fire + Between the wheel of the sun + And the flying flames of the air? + Wilt thou turn thee not yet nor have pity, + But abide with despair and desire + And the crying of armies undone, + Lamentation of one with another + And breaking of city by city; + The dividing of friend against friend, + The severing of brother and brother; + Wilt thou utterly bring to an end? + Have mercy, mother! + + For against all men from of old + Thou hast set thine hand as a curse, + And cast out gods from their places. + These things are spoken of thee. + Strong kings and goodly with gold + Thou hast found out arrows to pierce, + And made their kingdoms and races + As dust and surf of the sea. + All these, overburdened with woes + And with length of their days waxen weak, + Thou slewest; and sentest moreover + Upon Tyro an evil thing, + Rent hair and a fetter and blows + Making bloody the flower of the cheek, + Though she lay by a god as a lover, + Though fair, and the seed of a king. + For of old, being full of thy fire, + She endured not longer to wear + On her bosom a saffron vest, + On her shoulder an ashwood quiver; + Being mixed and made one through desire + With Enipeus, and all her hair + Made moist with his mouth, and her breast + Filled full of the foam of the river. + + + ATALANTA + + Sun, and clear light among green hills, and day + Late risen and long sought after, and you just gods + Whose hands divide anguish and recompense, + But first the sun's white sister, a maid in heaven, + On earth of all maids worshipped--hail, and hear, + And witness with me if not without sign sent, + Not without rule and reverence, I a maid + Hallowed, and huntress holy as whom I serve, + Here in your sight and eyeshot of these men + Stand, girt as they toward hunting, and my shafts + Drawn; wherefore all ye stand up on my side, + If I be pure and all ye righteous gods, + Lest one revile me, a woman, yet no wife, + That bear a spear for spindle, and this bow strung + For a web woven; and with pure lips salute + Heaven, and the face of all the gods, and dawn + Filling with maiden flames and maiden flowers + The starless fold o' the stars, and making sweet + The warm wan heights of the air, moon-trodden ways + And breathless gates and extreme hills of heaven. + Whom, having offered water and bloodless gifts, + Flowers, and a golden circlet of pure hair, + Next Artemis I bid be favourable + And make this day all golden, hers and ours, + Gracious and good and white to the unblamed end. + But thou, O well-beloved, of all my days + Bid it be fruitful, and a crown for all, + To bring forth leaves and bind round all my hair + With perfect chaplets woven for thine of thee. + For not without the word of thy chaste mouth, + For not without law given and clean command, + Across the white straits of the running sea + From Elis even to the Acheloian horn, + I with clear winds came hither and gentle gods, + Far off my father's house, and left uncheered + Iasius, and uncheered the Arcadian hills + And all their green-haired waters, and all woods + Disconsolate, to hear no horn of mine + Blown, and behold no flash of swift white feet. + + + MELEAGER. + + For thy name's sake and awe toward thy chaste head, + O holiest Atalanta, no man dares + Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise, + And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair + And holy habit of thine eyes, and feet + That make the blown foam neither swift nor white + Though the wind winnow and whirl it; yet we praise + Gods, found because of thee adorable + And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: + Thee therefore we praise also, thee as these, + Pure, and a light lit at the hands of gods. + + + TOXEUS. + + How long will ye whet spears with eloquence, + Fight, and kill beasts dry-handed with sweet words? + Cease, or talk still and slay thy boars at home. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Why, if she ride among us for a man, + Sit thou for her and spin; a man grown girl + Is worth a woman weaponed; sit thou here. + + + MELEAGER. + + Peace, and be wise; no gods love idle speech. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Nor any man a man's mouth woman-tongued. + + + MELEAGER. + + For my lips bite not sharper than mine hands. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Nay, both bite soft, but no whit softly mine. + + + MELEAGER. + + Keep thine hands clean; they have time enough to stain. + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + For thine shall rest and wax not red to-day. + + + MELEAGER. + + Have all thy will of words; talk out thine heart. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Refrain your lips, O brethren, and my son, + Lest words turn snakes and bite you uttering them. + + + TOXEUS. + + Except she give her blood before the gods, + What profit shall a maid be among men? + + + PLEXIPPUS. + + Let her come crowned and stretch her throat for a knife, + Bleat out her spirit and die, and so shall men + Through her too prosper and through prosperous gods; + But nowise through her living; shall she live + A flower-bud of the flower-bed, or sweet fruit + For kisses and the honey-making mouth, + And play the shield for strong men and the spear? + Then shall the heifer and her mate lock horns, + And the bride overbear the groom, and men + Gods, for no less division sunders these; + Since all things made are seasonable in time, + But if one alter unseasonable are all. + But thou, O Zeus, hear me that I may slay + This beast before thee and no man halve with me + Nor woman, lest these mock thee, though a god, + Who hast made men strong, and thou being wise be held + Foolish; for wise is that thing which endures. + + + ATALANTA. + + Men, and the chosen of all this people, and thou, + King, I beseech you a little bear with me. + For if my life be shameful that I live, + Let the gods witness and their wrath; but these + Cast no such word against me. Thou, O mine, + O holy, O happy goddess, if I sin + Changing the words of women and the works + For spears and strange men's faces, hast not thou + One shaft of all thy sudden seven that pierced + Seven through the bosom or shining throat or side, + All couched about one mother's loosening knees, + All holy born, engrafted of Tantalus? + But if toward any of you I am overbold + That take thus much upon me, let him think + How I, for all my forest holiness, + Fame, and this armed and iron maidenhood, + Pay thus much also; I shall have no man's love + For ever, and no face of children born + Or feeding lips upon me or fastening eyes + For ever, nor being dead shall kings my sons + Mourn me and bury, and tears on daughters' cheeks + Burn, but a cold and sacred life, but strange, + But far from dances and the back-blowing torch, + Far off from flowers or any bed of man, + Shall my life be for ever: me the snows + That face the first o' the morning, and cold hills + Full of the land-wind and sea-travelling storms + And many a wandering wing of noisy nights + That know the thunder and hear the thickening wolves-- + Me the utmost pine and footless frost of woods + That talk with many winds and gods, the hours + Re-risen, and white divisions of the dawn, + Springs thousand-tongued with the intermitting reed + And streams that murmur of the mother snow-- + Me these allure, and know me; but no man + Knows, and my goddess only. Lo now, see + If one of all you these things vex at all. + Would God that any of you had all the praise + And I no manner of memory when I die, + So might I show before her perfect eyes + Pure, whom I follow, a maiden to my death. + But for the rest let all have all they will; + For is it a grief to you that I have part, + Being woman merely, in your male might and deeds + Done by main strength? yet in my body is throned + As great a heart, and in my spirit, O men, + I have not less of godlike. Evil it were + That one a coward should mix with you, one hand + Fearful, one eye abase itself; and these + Well might ye hate and well revile, not me. + For not the difference of the several flesh + Being vile or noble or beautiful or base + Makes praiseworthy, but purer spirit and heart + Higher than these meaner mouths and limbs, that feed, + Rise, rest, and are and are not; and for me, + What should I say? but by the gods of the world + And this my maiden body, by all oaths + That bind the tongue of men and the evil will, + I am not mighty-minded, nor desire + Crowns, nor the spoil of slain things nor the fame; + Feed ye on these, eat and wax fat, cry out, + Laugh, having eaten, and leap without a lyre, + Sing, mix the wind with clamour, smite and shake + Sonorous timbrels and tumultuous hair, + And fill the dance up with tempestuous feet, + For I will none; but having prayed my prayers + And made thank-offering for prosperities, + I shall go hence and no man see me more. + What thing is this for you to shout me down, + What, for a man to grudge me this my life + As it were envious of all yours, and I + A thief of reputations? nay, for now, + If there be any highest in heaven, a god + Above all thrones and thunders of the gods + Throned, and the wheel of the world roll under him, + Judge he between me and all of you, and see + It I transgress at all: but ye, refrain + Transgressing hands and reinless mouths, and keep + Silence, lest by much foam of violent words + And proper poison of your lips ye die. + + + OENEUS. + + O flower of Tegea, maiden, fleetest foot + And holiest head of women, have good cheer + Of thy good words: but ye, depart with her + In peace and reverence, each with blameless eye + Following his fate; exalt your hands and hearts, + Strike, cease not, arrow on arrow and wound on wound, + And go with gods and with the gods return. + + + CHORUS. + + Who hath given man speech? or who hath set therein + A thorn for peril and a snare for sin? + For in the word his life is and his breath, + And in the word his death, + That madness and the infatuate heart may breed + From the word's womb the deed + And life bring one thing forth ere all pass by, + Even one thing which is ours yet cannot die-- + Death. Hast thou seen him ever anywhere, + Time's twin-born brother, imperishable as he + Is perishable and plaintive, clothed with care + And mutable as sand, + But death is strong and full of blood and fair + And perdurable and like a lord of land? + Nay, time thou seest not, death thou wilt not see + Till life's right hand be loosened from thine hand + And thy life-days from thee. + For the gods very subtly fashion + Madness with sadness upon earth: + Not knowing in any wise compassion, + Nor holding pity of any worth; + And many things they have given and taken, + And wrought and ruined many things; + The firm land have they loosed and shaken, + And sealed the sea with all her springs; + They have wearied time with heavy burdens + And vexed the lips of life with breath: + Set men to labour and given them guerdons, + Death, and great darkness after death: + Put moans into the bridal measure + And on the bridal wools a stain, + And circled pain about with pleasure, + And girdled pleasure about with pain; + And strewed one marriage-bed with tears and fire + For extreme loathing and supreme desire. + + What shall be done with all these tears of ours? + Shall they make watersprings in the fair heaven + To bathe the brows of morning? or like flowers + Be shed and shine before the starriest hours, + Or made the raiment of the weeping Seven? + Or rather, O our masters, shall they be + Food for the famine of the grievous sea, + A great well-head of lamentation + Satiating the sad gods? or fall and flow + Among the years and seasons to and fro, + And wash their feet with tribulation + And fill them full with grieving ere they go? + Alas, our lords, and yet alas again, + Seeing all your iron heaven is gilt as gold + But all we smite thereat in vain, + Smite the gates barred with groanings manifold, + But all the floors are paven with our pain. + Yea, and with weariness of lips and eyes, + With breaking of the bosom, and with sighs, + We labour, and are clad and fed with grief + And filled with days we would not fain behold + And nights we would not hear of, we wax old, + All we wax old and wither like a leaf. + We are outcast, strayed between bright sun and moon; + Our light and darkness are as leaves of flowers, + Black flowers and white, that perish; and the noon-- + As midnight, and the night as daylight hours. + A little fruit a little while is ours, + And the worm finds it soon. + + But up in heaven the high gods one by one + Lay hands upon the draught that quickeneth, + Fulfilled with all tears shed and all things done, + And stir with soft imperishable breath + The bubbling bitterness of life and death, + And hold it to our lips and laugh; but they + Preserve their lips from tasting night or day, + Lest they too change and sleep, the fates that spun, + The lips that made us and the hands that slay; + Lest all these change, and heaven bow down to none, + Change and be subject to the secular sway + And terrene revolution of the sun. + Therefore they thrust it from them, putting time away. + + I would the wine of time, made sharp and sweet + With multitudinous days and nights and tears + And many mixing savours of strange years, + Were no more trodden of them under feet, + Cast out and spilt about their holy places: + That life were given them as a fruit to eat + And death to drink as water; that the light + Might ebb, drawn backward from their eyes, and night + Hide for one hour the imperishable faces. + That they might rise up sad in heaven, and know + Sorrow and sleep, one paler than young snow, + One cold as blight of dew and ruinous rain, + Rise up and rest and suffer a little, and be + Awhile as all things born with us and we, + And grieve as men, and like slain men be slain. + + For now we know not of them; but one saith + The gods are gracious, praising God; and one, + When hast thou seen? or hast thou felt his breath + Touch, nor consume thine eyelids as the sun, + Nor fill thee to the lips with fiery death? + None hath beheld him, none + Seen above other gods and shapes of things, + Swift without feet and flying without wings, + Intolerable, not clad with death or life, + Insatiable, not known of night or day, + The lord of love and loathing and of strife + Who gives a star and takes a sun away; + Who shapes the soul, and makes her a barren wife + To the earthly body and grievous growth of clay; + Who turns the large limbs to a little flame + And binds the great sea with a little sand; + Who makes desire, and slays desire with shame; + Who shakes the heaven as ashes in his hand; + Who, seeing the light and shadow for the same, + Bids day waste night as fire devours a brand, + Smites without sword, and scourges without rod; + The supreme evil, God. + + Yea, with thine hate, O God, thou hast covered us, + One saith, and hidden our eyes away from sight, + And made us transitory and hazardous, + Light things and slight; + Yet have men praised thee, saying, He hath made man thus, + And he doeth right. + Thou hast kissed us, and hast smitten; thou hast laid + Upon us with thy left hand life, and said, + Live: and again thou hast said, Yield up your breath, + And with thy right hand laid upon us death. + Thou hast sent us sleep, and stricken sleep with dreams, + Saying, Joy is not, but love of joy shall be, + Thou hast made sweet springs for all the pleasant streams, + In the end thou hast made them bitter with the sea. + Thou hast fed one rose with dust of many men; + Thou hast marred one face with fire of many tears; + Thou hast taken love, and given us sorrow again; + With pain thou hast filled us full to the eyes and ears. + Therefore because thou art strong, our father, and we + Feeble; and thou art against us, and thine hand + Constrains us in the shallows of the sea + And breaks us at the limits of the land; + Because thou hast bent thy lightnings as a bow, + And loosed the hours like arrows; and let fall + Sins and wild words and many a winged woe + And wars among us, and one end of all; + Because thou hast made the thunder, and thy feet + Are as a rushing water when the skies + Break, but thy face as an exceeding heat + And flames of fire the eyelids of thine eyes; + Because thou art over all who are over us; + Because thy name is life and our name death; + Because thou art cruel and men are piteous, + And our hands labour and thine hand scattereth; + Lo, with hearts rent and knees made tremulous, + Lo, with ephemeral lips and casual breath, + At least we witness of thee ere we die + That these things are not otherwise, but thus; + That each man in his heart sigheth, and saith, + That all men even as I, + All we are against thee, against thee, O God most high, + But ye, keep ye on earth + Your lips from over-speech, + Loud words and longing are so little worth; + And the end is hard to reach. + For silence after grievous things is good, + And reverence, and the fear that makes men whole, + And shame, and righteous governance of blood, + And lordship of the soul. + But from sharp words and wits men pluck no fruit, + And gathering thorns they shake the tree at root; + For words divide and rend; + But silence is most noble till the end. + + + ALTHAEA. + + I heard within the house a cry of news + And came forth eastward hither, where the dawn, + Cheers first these warder gods that face the sun + And next our eyes unrisen; for unaware + Came clashes of swift hoofs and trampling feet + And through the windy pillared corridor + Light sharper than the frequent flames of day + That daily fill it from the fiery dawn; + Gleams, and a thunder of people that cried out, + And dust and hurrying horsemen; lo their chief, + That rode with Oeneus rein by rein, returned. + What cheer, O herald of my lord the king? + + + HERALD. + + Lady, good cheer and great; the boar is slain. + CHORUS. + + Praised be all gods that look toward Calydon. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Good news and brief; but by whose happier hand? + + + HERALD. + + A maiden's and a prophet's and thy son's. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Well fare the spear that severed him and life. + + + HERALD. + + + Thine own, and not an alien, hast thou blest + + + ALTHAEA. + + Twice be thou too for my sake blest and his. + + + HERALD. + + At the king's word I rode afoam for thine. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Thou sayest he tarrieth till they bring the spoil? + + + HERALD. + + Hard by the quarry, where they breathe, O queen. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Speak thou their chance; but some bring flowers and crown + These gods and all the lintel, and shed wine, + Fetch sacrifice and slay, for heaven is good. + + + HERALD. + + Some furlongs northward where the brakes begin + West of that narrowing range of warrior hills + Whose brooks have bled with battle when thy son + Smote Acarnania, there all they made halt, + And with keen eye took note of spear and hound, + Royally ranked; Laertes island-born, + The young Gerenian Nestor, Panopeus, + And Cepheus and Ancaeus, mightiest thewed, + Arcadians; next, and evil-eyed of these, + Arcadian Atalanta, with twain hounds + Lengthening the leash, and under nose and brow + Glittering with lipless tooth and fire-swift eye; + But from her white braced shoulder the plumed shafts + Rang, and the bow shone from her side; next her + Meleager, like a sun in spring that strikes + Branch into leaf and bloom into the world, + A glory among men meaner; Iphicles, + And following him that slew the biform bull + Pirithous, and divine Eurytion, + And, bride-bound to the gods, Aeacides. + Then Telamon his brother, and Argive-born + The seer and sayer of visions and of truth, + Amphiaraus; and a four-fold strength, + Thine, even thy mother's and thy sister's sons. + And recent from the roar of foreign foam + Jason, and Dryas twin-begot with war, + A blossom of bright battle, sword and man + Shining; and Idas, and the keenest eye + Of Lynceus, and Admetus twice-espoused, + And Hippasus and Hyleus, great in heart. + These having halted bade blow horns, and rode + Through woods and waste lands cleft by stormy streams, + Past yew-trees and the heavy hair of pines, + And where the dew is thickest under oaks, + This way and that; but questing up and down + They saw no trail nor scented; and one said, + Plexippus, Help, or help not, Artemis, + And we will flay thy boarskin with male hands; + But saying, he ceased and said not that he would, + Seeing where the green ooze of a sun-struck marsh + Shook with a thousand reeds untunable, + And in their moist and multitudinous flower + Slept no soft sleep, with violent visions fed, + The blind bulk of the immeasurable beast. + And seeing, he shuddered with sharp lust of praise + Through all his limbs, and launched a double dart, + And missed; for much desire divided him, + Too hot of spirit and feebler than his will, + That his hand failed, though fervent; and the shaft, + Sundering the rushes, in a tamarisk stem + Shook, and stuck fast; then all abode save one, + The Arcadian Atalanta; from her side + Sprang her hounds, labouring at the leash, and slipped, + And plashed ear-deep with plunging feet; but she + Saying, Speed it as I send it for thy sake, + Goddess, drew bow and loosed, the sudden string + Rang, and sprang inward, and the waterish air + Hissed, and the moist plumes of the songless reeds + Moved as a wave which the wind moves no more. + But the boar heaved half out of ooze and slime + His tense flank trembling round the barbed wound, + Hateful, and fiery with invasive eyes + And bristling with intolerable hair + Plunged, and the hounds clung, and green flowers and white + Reddened and broke all round them where they came. + And charging with sheer tusk he drove, and smote + Hyleus; and sharp death caught his sudden soul, + And violent sleep shed night upon his eyes. + Then Peleus, with strong strain of hand and heart, + Shot; but the sidelong arrow slid, and slew + His comrade born and loving countryman, + Under the left arm smitten, as he no less + Poised a like arrow; and bright blood brake afoam, + And falling, and weighed back by clamorous arms, + Sharp rang the dead limbs of Eurytion. + Then one shot happier; the Cadmean seer, + Amphiaraus; for his sacred shaft + Pierced the red circlet of one ravening eye + Beneath the brute brows of the sanguine boar, + Now bloodier from one slain; but he so galled + Sprang straight, and rearing cried no lesser cry + Than thunder and the roar of wintering streams + That mix their own foam with the yellower sea; + And as a tower that falls by fire in fight + With ruin of walls and all its archery, + And breaks the iron flower of war beneath, + Crushing charred limbs and molten arms of men; + So through crushed branches and the reddening brake + Clamoured and crashed the fervour of his feet, + And trampled, springing sideways from the tusk, + Too tardy a moving mould of heavy strength, + Ancaeus; and as flakes of weak-winged snow + Break, all the hard thews of his heaving limbs + Broke, and rent flesh fell every way, and blood + Flew, and fierce fragments of no more a man. + Then all the heroes drew sharp breath, and gazed, + And smote not; but Meleager, but thy son, + Right in the wild way of the coming curse + Rock-rooted, fair with fierce and fastened lips, + Clear eyes, and springing muscle and shortening limb-- + With chin aslant indrawn to a tightening throat, + Grave, and with gathered sinews, like a god,-- + Aimed on the left side his well-handled spear + Grasped where the ash was knottiest hewn, and smote, + And with no missile wound, the monstrous boar + Right in the hairiest hollow of his hide + Under the last rib, sheer through bulk and bone, + Peep in; and deeply smitten, and to death, + The heavy horror with his hanging shafts + Leapt, and fell furiously, and from raging lips + Foamed out the latest wrath of all his life. + And all they praised the gods with mightier heart, + Zeus and all gods, but chiefliest Artemis, + Seeing; but Meleager bade whet knives and flay, + Strip and stretch out the splendour of the spoil; + And hot and horrid from the work all these + Sat, and drew breath and drank and made great cheer + And washed the hard sweat off their calmer brows. + For much sweet grass grew higher than grew the reed, + And good for slumber, and every holier herb, + Narcissus, and the low-lying melilote, + And all of goodliest blade and bloom that springs + Where, hid by heavier hyacinth, violet buds + Blossom and burn; and fire of yellower flowers + And light of crescent lilies, and such leaves + As fear the Faun's and know the Dryad's foot; + Olive and ivy and poplar dedicate, + And many a well-spring overwatched of these. + There now they rest; but me the king bade bear + Good tidings to rejoice this town and thee. + Wherefore be glad, and all ye give much thanks, + For fallen is all the trouble of Calydon. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Laud ye the gods; for this they have given is good, + And what shall be they hide until their time. + Much good and somewhat grievous hast thou said, + And either well; but let all sad things be, + Till all have made before the prosperous gods + Burnt-offering, and poured out the floral wine. + Look fair, O gods, and favourable; for we + Praise you with no false heart or flattering mouth, + Being merciful, but with pure souls and prayer. + + + HERALD. + + Thou hast prayed well; for whoso fears not these, + But once being prosperous waxes huge of heart, + Him shall some new thing unaware destroy. + + + CHORUS. + + O that I now, I too were + By deep wells and water-floods, + Streams of ancient hills; and where + All the wan green places bear + Blossoms cleaving to the sod, + Fruitless fruit, and grasses fair, + Or such darkest ivy-buds + As divide thy yellow hair, + Bacchus, and their leaves that nod + Round thy fawnskin brush the bare + Snow-soft shoulders of a god; + There the year is sweet, and there + Earth is full of secret springs, + And the fervent rose-cheeked hours, + Those that marry dawn and noon, + There are sunless, there look pale + In dim leaves and hidden air, + Pale as grass or latter flowers + Or the wild vine's wan wet rings + Full of dew beneath the moon, + And all day the nightingale + Sleeps, and all night sings; + There in cold remote recesses + That nor alien eyes assail, + Feet, nor imminence of wings, + Nor a wind nor any tune, + Thou, O queen and holiest, + Flower the whitest of all things, + With reluctant lengthening tresses + And with sudden splendid breast + Save of maidens unbeholden, + There art wont to enter, there + Thy divine swift limbs and golden. + Maiden growth of unbound hair, + Bathed in waters white, + Shine, and many a maid's by thee + In moist woodland or the hilly + Flowerless brakes where wells abound + Out of all men's sight; + Or in lower pools that see + All their marges clothed all round + With the innumerable lily, + Whence the golden-girdled bee + Flits through flowering rush to fret + White or duskier violet, + Fair as those that in far years + With their buds left luminous + And their little leaves made wet + From the warmer dew of tears, + Mother's tears in extreme need, + Hid the limbs of Iamus, + Of thy brother's seed; + For his heart was piteous + Toward him, even as thine heart now + Pitiful toward us; + Thine, O goddess, turning hither + A benignant blameless brow; + Seeing enough of evil done + And lives withered as leaves wither + In the blasting of the sun; + Seeing enough of hunters dead, + Ruin enough of all our year, + Herds and harvests slain and shed, + Herdsmen stricken many an one, + Fruits and flocks consumed together, + And great length of deadly days. + Yet with reverent lips and fear + Turn we toward thee, turn and praise + For this lightening of clear weather + And prosperities begun. + For not seldom, when all air + As bright water without breath + Shines, and when men fear not, fate + Without thunder unaware + Breaks, and brings down death. + Joy with grief ye great gods give, + Good with bad, and overbear + All the pride of us that live, + All the high estate, + As ye long since overbore, + As in old time long before, + Many a strong man and a great, + All that were. + But do thou, sweet, otherwise, + Having heed of all our prayer, + Taking note of all our sighs; + We beseech thee by thy light, + By thy bow, and thy sweet eyes, + And the kingdom of the night, + Be thou favourable and fair; + By thine arrows and thy might + And Orion overthrown; + By the maiden thy delight, + By the indissoluble zone + And the sacred hair. + + + MESSENGER. + + Maidens, if ye will sing now, shift your song, + Bow down, cry, wail for pity; is this a time + For singing? nay, for strewing of dust and ash, + Rent raiment, and for bruising of the breast. + + + CHORUS. + + What new thing wolf-like lurks behind thy words? + What snake's tongue in thy lips? what fire in the eyes? + + + MESSENGER. + + Bring me before the queen and I will speak. + + + CHORUS. + + Lo, she comes forth as from thank-offering made. + + + MESSENGER. + + A barren offering for a bitter gift. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What are these borne on branches, and the face + Covered? no mean men living, but now slain + Such honour have they, if any dwell with death. + + + MESSENGER. + + Queen, thy twain brethren and thy mother's sons. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Lay down your dead till I behold their blood + If it be mine indeed, and I will weep. + + + MESSENGER, + + Weep if thou wilt, for these men shall no more. + + + ALTHAEA. + + O brethren, O my father's sons, of me + Well loved and well reputed, I should weep + Tears dearer than the dear blood drawn from you + But that I know you not uncomforted, + Sleeping no shameful sleep, however slain, + For my son surely hath avenged you dead. + + + MESSENGER. + + Nay, should thine own seed slay himself, O queen? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Thy double word brings forth a double death. + + + MESSENGER. + + Know this then singly, by one hand they fell. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What mutterest thou with thine ambiguous mouth? + + + MESSENGER. + + Slain by thy son's hand; is that saying so hard? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Our time is come upon us: it is here. + + + CHORUS. + + O miserable, and spoiled at thine own hand. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wert thou not called Meleager from this womb? + + + CHORUS. + + A grievous huntsman hath it bred to thee. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wert thou born fire, and shalt thou not devour? + + + CHORUS. + + The fire thou madest, will it consume even thee? + + + ALTHAEA. + + My dreams are fallen upon me; burn thou too. + + + CHORUS. + + Not without God are visions born and die. + + + ALTHAEA. + + The gods are many about me; I am one. + + + CHORUS + + She groans as men wrestling with heavier gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + They rend me, they divide me, they destroy. + + + CHORUS. + + Or one labouring in travail of strange births. + + + ALTHAEA. + + They are strong, they are strong; I am broken, and these prevail. + + + CHORUS. + + The god is great against her; she will die. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea, but not now; for my heart too is great. + I would I were not here in sight of the sun. + But thou, speak all thou sawest, and I will die. + I would I were not here in sight of the sun. + + + MESSENGER. + + O queen, for queenlike hast thou borne thyself, + A little word may hold so great mischance. + For in division of the sanguine spoil + These men thy brethren wrangling bade yield up + The boar's head and the horror of the hide + That this might stand a wonder in Calydon, + Hallowed; and some drew toward them; but thy son + With great hands grasping all that weight of hair + Cast down the dead heap clanging and collapsed + At female feet, saying This thy spoil not mine, + Maiden, thine own hand for thyself hath reaped, + And all this praise God gives thee: she thereat + Laughed, as when dawn touches the sacred night + The sky sees laugh and redden and divide + Dim lips and eyelids virgin of the sun, + Hers, and the warm slow breasts of morning heave, + Fruitful, and flushed with flame from lamp-lit hours, + And maiden undulation of clear hair + Colour the clouds; so laughed she from pure heart + Lit with a low blush to the braided hair, + And rose-coloured and cold like very dawn, + Golden and godlike, chastely with chaste lips, + A faint grave laugh; and all they held their peace, + And she passed by them. Then one cried Lo now, + Shall not the Arcadian shoot out lips at us, + Saying all we were despoiled by this one girl? + And all they rode against her violently + And cast the fresh crown from her hair, and now + They had rent her spoil away, dishonouring her, + Save that Meleager, as a tame lion chafed, + Bore on them, broke them, and as fire cleaves wood + So clove and drove them, smitten in twain; but she + Smote not nor heaved up hand; and this man first, + Plexippus, crying out This for love's sake, sweet, + Drove at Meleager, who with spear straightening + Pierced his cheek through; then Toxeus made for him, + Dumb, but his spear spake; vain and violent words, + Fruitless; for him too stricken through both sides + The earth felt falling, and his horse's foam + Blanched thy son's face, his slayer; and these being slain, + None moved nor spake; but Oeneus bade bear hence + These made of heaven infatuate in their deaths, + Foolish; for these would baffle fate, and fell. + And they passed on, and all men honoured her, + Being honourable, as one revered of heaven. + + + ALTHAEA. + + What say you, women? is all this not well done? + + + CHORUS. + + No man doth well but God hath part in him. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But no part here; for these my brethren born + Ye have no part in, these ye know not of + As I that was their sister, a sacrifice + Slain in their slaying. I would I had died for these, + For this man dead walked with me, child by child, + And made a weak staff for my feebler feet + With his own tender wrist and hand, and held + And led me softly and shewed me gold and steel + And shining shapes of mirror and bright crown + And all things fair; and threw light spears, and brought + Young hounds to huddle at my feet and thrust + Tame heads against my little maiden breasts + And please me with great eyes; and those days went + And these are bitter and I a barren queen + And sister miserable, a grievous thing + And mother of many curses; and she too, + My sister Leda, sitting overseas + With fair fruits round her, and her faultless lord, + Shall curse me, saying A sorrow and not a son, + Sister, thou barest, even a burning fire, + A brand consuming thine own soul and me. + But ye now, sons of Thestius, make good cheer, + For ye shall have such wood to funeral fire + As no king hath; and flame that once burnt down + Oil shall not quicken or breath relume or wine + Refresh again; much costlier than fine gold, + And more than many lives of wandering men. + + + CHORUS. + + O queen, thou hast yet with thee love-worthy things, + Thine husband, and the great strength of thy son. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Who shall get brothers for me while I live? + Who bear them? who bring forth in lieu of these? + Are not our fathers and our brethren one, + And no man like them? are not mine here slain? + Have we not hung together, he and I, + Flowerwise feeding as the feeding bees, + With mother-milk for honey? and this man too, + Dead, with my son's spear thrust between his sides, + Hath he not seen us, later born than he, + Laugh with lips filled, and laughed again for love? + There were no sons then in the world, nor spears, + Nor deadly births of women; but the gods + Allowed us, and our days were clear of these. + I would I had died unwedded, and brought forth + No swords to vex the world; for these that spake + Sweet words long since and loved me will not speak + Nor love nor look upon me; and all my life + I shall not hear nor see them living men. + But I too living, how shall I now live? + What life shall this be with my son, to know + What hath been and desire what will not be, + Look for dead eyes and listen for dead lips, + And kill mine own heart with remembering them, + And with those eyes that see their slayer alive + Weep, and wring hands that clasp him by the hand? + How shall I bear my dreams of them, to hear + False voices, feel the kisses of false mouths + And footless sound of perished feet, and then + Wake and hear only it may be their own hounds + Whine masterless in miserable sleep, + And see their boar-spears and their beds and seats + And all the gear and housings of their lives + And not the men? shall hounds and horses mourn, + Pine with strange eyes, and prick up hungry ears, + Famish and fail at heart for their dear lords, + And I not heed at all? and those blind things + Fall off from life for love's sake, and I live? + Surely some death is better than some life, + Better one death for him and these and me + For if the gods had slain them it may be + I had endured it; if they had fallen by war + Or by the nets and knives of privy death + And by hired hands while sleeping, this thing too + I had set my soul to suffer; or this hunt, + Had this dispatched them, under tusk or tooth + Torn, sanguine, trodden, broken; for all deaths + Or honourable or with facile feet avenged + And hands of swift gods following, all save this, + Are bearable; but not for their sweet land + Fighting, but not a sacrifice, lo these + Dead, for I had not then shed all mine heart + Out at mine eyes: then either with good speed, + Being just, I had slain their slayer atoningly, + Or strewn with flowers their fire and on their tombs + Hung crowns, and over them a song, and seen + Their praise outflame their ashes: for all men, + All maidens, had come thither, and from pure lips + Shed songs upon them, from heroic eyes + Tears; and their death had been a deathless life; + But now, by no man hired nor alien sword, + By their own kindred are they fallen, in peace, + After much peril, friendless among friends, + By hateful hands they loved; and how shall mine + Touch these returning red and not from war, + These fatal from the vintage of men's veins, + Dead men my brethren? how shall these wash off + No festal stains of undelightful wine, + How mix the blood, my blood on them, with me, + Holding mine hand? or how shall I say, son, + That am no sister? but by night and day + Shall we not sit and hate each other, and think + Things hate-worthy? not live with shamefast eyes, + Brow-beaten, treading soft with fearful feet, + Each unupbraided, each without rebuke + Convicted, and without a word reviled + Each of another? and I shall let thee live + And see thee strong and hear men for thy sake + Praise me, but these thou wouldest not let live + No man shall praise for ever? these shall lie + Dead, unbeloved, unholpen, all through thee? + Sweet were they toward me living, and mine heart + Desired them, but was then well satisfied, + That now is as men hungered; and these dead + I shall want always to the day I die. + For all things else and all men may renew; + Yea, son for son the gods may give and take, + But never a brother or sister any more. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, for the son lies close about thine heart, + Full of thy milk, warm from thy womb, and drains + Life and the blood of life and all thy fruit, + Eats thee and drinks thee as who breaks bread and eats, + Treads wine and drinks, thyself, a sect of thee; + And if he feed not, shall not thy flesh faint? + Or drink not, are not thy lips dead for thirst? + This thing moves more than all things, even thy son, + That thou cleave to him; and he shall honour thee, + Thy womb that bare him and the breasts he knew, + Reverencing most for thy sake all his gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + But these the gods too gave me, and these my son, + Not reverencing his gods nor mine own heart + Nor the old sweet years nor all venerable things, + But cruel, and in his ravin like a beast, + Hath taken away to slay them: yea, and she, + She the strange woman, she the flower, the sword, + Red from spilt blood, a mortal flower to men, + Adorable, detestable--even she + Saw with strange eyes and with strange lips rejoiced, + Seeing these mine own slain of mine own, and me + Made miserable above all miseries made, + A grief among all women in the world, + A name to be washed out with all men's tears. + + + CHORUS. + + Strengthen thy spirit; is this not also a god, + Chance, and the wheel of all necessities? + Hard things have fallen upon us from harsh gods, + Whom lest worse hap rebuke we not for these. + + + ALTHAEA. + + My spirit is strong against itself, and I + For these things' sake cry out on mine own soul + That it endures outrage, and dolorous days, + And life, and this inexpiable impotence. + Weak am I, weak and shameful; my breath drawn + Shames me, and monstrous things and violent gods. + What shall atone? what heal me? what bring back + Strength to the foot, light to the face? what herb + Assuage me? what restore me? what release? + What strange thing eaten or drunken, O great gods. + Make me as you or as the beasts that feed, + Slay and divide and cherish their own hearts? + For these ye show us; and we less than these + Have not wherewith to live as all these things + Which all their lives fare after their own kind + As who doth well rejoicing; but we ill, + Weeping or laughing, we whom eyesight fails, + Knowledge and light efface and perfect heart, + And hands we lack, and wit; and all our days + Sin, and have hunger, and die infatuated. + For madness have ye given us and not health, + And sins whereof we know not; and for these + Death, and sudden destruction unaware. + What shall we say now? what thing comes of us? + + + CHORUS. + + Alas, for all this all men undergo. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Wherefore I will not that these twain, O gods, + Die as a dog dies, eaten of creeping things, + Abominable, a loathing; but though dead + Shall they have honour and such funereal flame + As strews men's ashes in their enemies' face + And blinds their eyes who hate them: lest men say, + 'Lo how they lie, and living had great kin, + And none of these hath pity of them, and none + Regards them lying, and none is wrung at heart, + None moved in spirit for them, naked and slain, + Abhorred, abased, and no tears comfort them:' + And in the dark this grieve Eurythemis, + Hearing how these her sons come down to her + Unburied, unavenged, as kinless men, + And had a queen their sister. That were shame + Worse than this grief. Yet how to atone at all + I know not, seeing the love of my born son, + A new-made mother's new-born love, that grows + From the soft child to the strong man, now soft + Now strong as either, and still one sole same love, + Strives with me, no light thing to strive withal; + This love is deep, and natural to man's blood, + And ineffaceable with many tears. + Yet shall not these rebuke me though I die, + Nor she in that waste world with all her dead, + My mother, among the pale flocks fallen as leaves, + Folds of dead people, and alien from the sun; + Nor lack some bitter comfort, some poor praise, + Being queen, to have borne her daughter like a queen, + Righteous; and though mine own fire burn me too, + She shall have honour and these her sons, though dead. + But all the gods will, all they do, and we + Not all we would, yet somewhat, and one choice + We have, to live and do just deeds and die. + + + CHORUS. + + Terrible words she communes with, and turns + Swift fiery eyes in doubt against herself, + And murmurs as who talks in dreams with death. + + + ALTHAEA. + + For the unjust also dieth, and him all men + Hate, and himself abhors the unrighteousness, + And seeth his own dishonour intolerable. + But I being just, doing right upon myself, + Slay mine own soul, and no man born shames me. + For none constrains nor shall rebuke, being done, + What none compelled me doing, thus these things fare. + Ah, ah, that such things should so fare, ah me, + That I am found to do them and endure, + Chosen and constrained to choose, and bear myself + Mine own wound through mine own flesh to the heart + Violently stricken, a spoiler and a spoil, + A ruin ruinous, fallen on mine own son. + Ah, ah, for me too as for these; alas, + For that is done that shall be, and mine hand + Full of the deed, and full of blood mine eyes, + That shall see never nor touch anything + Save blood unstanched and fire unquenchable. + + + CHORUS. + + What wilt thou do? what ails thee? for the house + Shakes ruinously; wilt thou bring fire for it? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Fire in the roofs, and on the lintels fire. + Lo ye, who stand and weave, between the doors, + There; and blood drips from hand and thread, and stains + Threshold and raiment and me passing in + Flecked with the sudden sanguine drops of death. + + + CHORUS. + + Alas that time is stronger than strong men, + Fate than all gods: and these are fallen on us. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A little since and I was glad; and now + I never shall be glad or sad again. + + + CHORUS. + + Between two joys a grief grows unaware. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A little while and I shall laugh; and then + I shall weep never and laugh not any more. + + + CHORUS. + + What shall be said? for words are thorns to grief. + Withhold thyself a little and fear the gods. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Fear died when these were slain; and I am as dead, + And fear is of the living; these fear none. + + + CHORUS. + + Have pity upon all people for their sake. + + + ALTHAEA. + + It is done now, shall I put back my day? + + + CHORUS. + + An end is come, an end; this is of God. + + + ALTHAEA. + + I am fire, and burn myself, keep clear of fire. + + + CHORUS. + + The house is broken, is broken; it shall not stand. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Woe, woe for him that breaketh; and a rod + Smote it of old, and now the axe is here. + + + CHORUS. + + Not as with sundering of the earth + Nor as with cleaving of the sea + Nor fierce foreshadowings of a birth + Nor flying dreams of death to be + Nor loosening of the large world's girth + And quickening of the body of night, + And sound of thunder in men's ears + And fire of lightning in men's sight, + Fate, mother of desires and fears, + Bore unto men the law of tears; + But sudden, an unfathered flame, + And broken out of night, she shone, + She, without body, without name, + In days forgotten and foregone; + And heaven rang round her as she came + Like smitten cymbals, and lay bare, + Clouds and great stars, thunders and snows, + The blue sad fields and folds of air, + The life that breathes, the life that grows, + All wind, all fire, that burns or blows, + Even all these knew her: for she is great; + The daughter of doom, the mother of death, + The sister of sorrow; a lifelong weight + That no man's finger lighteneth, + Nor any god can lighten fate, + A landmark seen across the way + Where one race treads as the other trod; + An evil sceptre, an evil stay, + Wrought for a staff, wrought for a rod, + The bitter jealousy of God. + + For death is deep as the sea, + And fate as the waves thereof. + Shall the waves take pity on thee + Or the southwind offer thee love? + Wilt thou take the night for thy day + Or the darkness for light on thy way, + Till thou say in thine heart Enough? + Behold, thou art over fair, thou art over wise; + The sweetness of spring in thine hair, and the light in thine eyes. + The light of the spring in thine eyes, and the sound in thine ears; + Yet thine heart shall wax heavy with sighs and thine eyelids with tears. + Wilt thou cover thine hair with gold, and with silver thy feet? + Hast thou taken the purple to fold thee, and made thy mouth sweet? + Behold, when thy face is made bare, he that loved thee shall hate; + Thy face shall be no more fair at the fall of thy fate. + For thy life shall fall as a leaf and be shed as the rain; + And the veil of thine head shall be grief: and the crown shall be pain. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Ho, ye that wail, and ye that sing, make way + Till I be come among you. Hide your tears, + Ye little weepers, and your laughing lips, + Ye laughers for a little; lo mine eyes + That outweep heaven at rainiest, and my mouth + That laughs as gods laugh at us. Fate's are we, + Yet fate is ours a breathing-space; yea, mine, + Fate is made mine for ever; he is my son, + My bedfellow, my brother. You strong gods, + Give place unto me; I am as any of you, + To give life and to take life. Thou, old earth, + That hast made man and unmade; thou whose mouth + Looks red from the eaten fruits of thine own womb; + Behold me with what lips upon what food + I feed and fill my body; even with flesh + Made of my body. Lo, the fire I lit + I burn with fire to quench it; yea, with flame + I burn up even the dust and ash thereof. + + + CHORUS. + + Woman, what fire is this thou burnest with? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Yea to the bone, yea to the blood and all. + + + CHORUS. + + For this thy face and hair are as one fire. + + + ALTHAEA. + + A tongue that licks and beats upon the dust. + + CHORUS. + + And in thine eyes are hollow light and heat. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Of flame not fed with hand or frankincense. + + + CHORUS. + + I fear thee for the trembling of thine eyes. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Neither with love they tremble nor for fear. + + + CHORUS. + + And thy mouth shuddering like a shot bird. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Not as the bride's mouth when man kisses it. + + + CHORUS. + + Nay, but what thing is this thing thou hast done? + + + ALTHAEA. + + Look, I am silent, speak your eyes for me. + + + CHORUS. + + I see a faint fire lightening from the hall. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Gaze, stretch your eyes, strain till the lids drop off. + + + CHORUS. + + Flushed pillars down the flickering vestibule. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Stretch with your necks like birds: cry, chirp as they. + + + CHORUS. + + And a long brand that blackens: and white dust + + + ALTHAEA. + + O children, what is this ye see? your eyes + Are blinder than night's face at fall of moon. + That is my son, my flesh, my fruit of life, + My travail, and the year's weight of my womb, + Meleager, a fire enkindled of mine hands + And of mine hands extinguished, this is he. + + + CHORUS. + + O gods, what word has flown out at thy mouth? + + + ALTHAEA. + + I did this and I say this and I die. + + + CHORUS. + + Death stands upon the doorway of thy lips, + And in thy mouth has death set up his house. + ALTHAEA. + + O death, a little, a little while, sweet death, + Until I see the brand burnt down and die. + + + CHORUS. + + She reels as any reed under the wind, + And cleaves unto the ground with staggering feet. + + + ALTHAEA. + + Girls, one thing will I say and hold my peace. + I that did this will weep not nor cry out, + Cry ye and weep: I will not call on gods, + Call ye on them; I will not pity man, + Shew ye your pity. I know not if I live; + Save that I feel the fire upon my face + And on my cheek the burning of a brand. + Yea the smoke bites me, yea I drink the steam + With nostril and with eyelid and with lip + Insatiate and intolerant; and mine hands + Burn, and fire feeds upon mine eyes; I reel + As one made drunk with living, whence he draws + Drunken delight; yet I, though mad for joy, + Loathe my long living and am waxen red + As with the shadow of shed blood; behold, + I am kindled with the flames that fade in him, + I am swollen with subsiding of his veins, + I am flooded with his ebbing; my lit eyes + Flame with the falling fire that leaves his lids + Bloodless, my cheek is luminous with blood + Because his face is ashen. Yet, O child, + Son, first-born, fairest--O sweet mouth, sweet eyes, + That drew my life out through my suckling breast, + That shone and clove mine heart through--O soft knees + Clinging, O tender treadings of soft feet, + Cheeks warm with little kissings--O child, child, + What have we made each other? Lo, I felt + Thy weight cleave to me, a burden of beauty, O son, + Thy cradled brows and loveliest loving lips, + The floral hair, the little lightening eyes, + And all thy goodly glory; with mine hands + Delicately I fed thee, with my tongue + Tenderly spake, saying, Verily in God's time, + For all the little likeness of thy limbs, + Son, I shall make thee a kingly man to fight, + A lordly leader; and hear before I die, + 'She bore the goodliest sword of all the world.' + Oh! oh! For all my life turns round on me; + I am severed from myself, my name is gone, + My name that was a healing, it is changed, + My name is a consuming. From this time, + Though mine eyes reach to the end of all these things, + My lips shall not unfasten till I die. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + She has filled with sighing the city, + And the ways thereof with tears; + She arose, she girdled her sides, + She set her face as a bride's; + She wept, and she had no pity, + Trembled, and felt no fears. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Her eyes were clear as the sun, + Her brows were fresh as the day; + She girdled herself with gold, + Her robes were manifold; + But the days of her worship are done, + Her praise is taken away. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + For she set her hand to the fire, + With her mouth she kindled the same, + As the mouth of a flute-player, + So was the mouth of her; + With the might of her strong desire + She blew the breath of the flame. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + She set her hand to the wood, + She took the fire in her hand; + As one who is nigh to death, + She panted with strange breath; + She opened her lips unto blood, + She breathed and kindled the brand. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + As a wood-dove newly shot, + She sobbed and lifted her breast; + She sighed and covered her eyes, + Filling her lips with sighs; + She sighed, she withdrew herself not, + She refrained not, taking not rest; + + + SEMICHORUS. + + But as the wind which is drouth, + And as the air which is death, + As storm that severeth ships, + Her breath severing her lips, + The breath came forth of her mouth + And the fire came forth of her breath. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Queen, and you maidens, there is come on us + A thing more deadly than the face of death; + Meleager the good lord is as one slain. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Without sword, without sword is he stricken; + Slain, and slain without hand. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + For as keen ice divided of the sun + His limbs divide, and as thawed snow the flesh + Thaws from off all his body to the hair. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + He wastes as the embers quicken; + With the brand he fades as a brand + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Even while they sang and all drew hither and he + Lifted both hands to crown the Arcadian's hair + And fix the looser leaves, both hands fell down. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + With rending of cheek and of hair + Lament ye, mourn for him, weep. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Straightway the crown slid off and smote on earth, + First fallen; and he, grasping his own hair, groaned + And cast his raiment round his face and fell. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Alas for visions that were, + And soothsayings spoken in sleep. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + But the king twitched his reins in and leapt down + And caught him, crying out twice 'O child' and thrice, + So that men's eyelids thickened with their tears. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Lament with a long lamentation, + Cry, for an end is at hand. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + O son, he said, son, lift thine eyes, draw breath, + Pity me; but Meleager with sharp lips + Gasped, and his face waxed like as sunburnt grass. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Cry aloud, O thou kingdom, O nation, + O stricken, a ruinous land. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + Whereat king Oeneus, straightening feeble knees, + With feeble hands heaved up a lessening weight, + And laid him sadly in strange hands, and wept. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Thou art smitten, her lord, her desire, + Thy dear blood wasted as rain. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + And they with tears and rendings of the beard + Bear hither a breathing body, wept upon + And lightening at each footfall, sick to death. + + + SEMICHORUS. + + Thou madest thy sword as a fire, + With fire for a sword thou art slain. + + + SECOND MESSENGER. + + And lo, the feast turned funeral, and the crowns + Fallen; and the huntress and the hunter trapped; + And weeping and changed faces and veiled hair. + MELEAGER. + + Let your hands meet + Round the weight of my head, + Lift ye my feet + As the feet of the dead; + For the flesh of my body is molten, + the limbs of it molten as lead. + + + CHORUS. + + O thy luminous face, + Thine imperious eyes! + O the grief, O the grace, + As of day when it dies! + Who is this bending over thee, lord, + with tears and suppression of sighs? + + + MELEAGER. + + Is a bride so fair? + Is a maid so meek? + With unchapleted hair, + With unfilleted cheek, + Atalanta, the pure among women, + whose name is as blessing to speak. + + + ATALANTA. + + I would that with feet + Unsandaled, unshod, + Overbold, overfleet, + I had swum not nor trod + From Arcadia to Calydon northward, + a blast of the envy of God. + + + MELEAGER. + + Unto each man his fate; + Unto each as he saith + In whose fingers the weight + Of the world is as breath; + Yet I would that in clamour of battle mine hands + had laid hold upon death. + + + CHORUS. + + Not with cleaving of shields + And their clash in thine ear, + When the lord of fought fields + Breaketh spearshaft from spear, + Thou art broken, our lord, thou art broken; + with travail and labour and fear, + + + MELEAGER. + + Would God he had found me + Beneath fresh boughs + Would God he had bound me + Unawares in mine house, + With light in mine eyes, and songs in my lips, + and a crown on my brows! + + + CHORUS. + + Whence art thou sent from us? + Whither thy goal? + How art thou rent from us, + Thou that wert whole, + As with severing of eyelids and eyes, + as with sundering of body and soul! + + MELEAGER. + + My heart is within me + As an ash in the fire; + Whosoever hath seen me, + Without lute, without lyre, + Shall sing of me grievous things, + even things that were ill to desire. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall raise thee + From the house of the dead? + Or what man praise thee + That thy praise may be said? + Alas thy beauty! alas thy body! alas thine head! + + + MELEAGER. + + But thou, O mother, + The dreamer of dreams, + Wilt thou bring forth another + To feel the sun's beams + When I move among shadows a shadow, + and wail by impassable streams? + + + OENEUS. + + What thing wilt thou leave me + Now this thing is done? + A man wilt thou give me, + A son for my son, + For the light of mine eyes, the desire of my life, + the desirable one? + + + CHORUS. + + Thou wert glad above others, + Yea, fair beyond word, + Thou wert glad among mothers; + For each man that heard + Of thee, praise there was added unto thee, as wings + to the feet of a bird. + + + OENEUS. + + Who shall give back + Thy face of old years, + With travail made black, + Grown grey among fears, + Mother of sorrow, mother of cursing, mother of tears? + + + MELEAGER. + + Though thou art as fire + Fed with fuel in vain, + My delight, my desire, + Is more chaste than the rain, + More pure than the dewfall, more holy than stars + are that live without stain. + + + ATALANTA. + + I would that as water + My life's blood had thawn, + Or as winter's wan daughter + Leaves lowland and lawn + Spring-stricken, or ever mine eyes had beheld thee + made dark in thy dawn. + + + CHORUS. + + When thou dravest the men + Of the chosen of Thrace, + None turned him again + Nor endured he thy face + Clothed round with the blush of the battle, + with light from a terrible place. + + + OENEUS. + + Thou shouldst die as he dies + For whom none sheddeth tears; + Filling thine eyes + And fulfilling thine ears + With the brilliance of battle, the bloom and the beauty, + the splendour of spears. + + + CHORUS. + + In the ears of the world + It is sung, it is told, + And the light thereof hurled + And the noise thereof rolled + From the Acroceraunian snow to the ford + of the fleece of gold. + + + MELEAGER. + + Would God ye could carry me + Forth of all these; + Heap sand and bury me + By the Chersonese + Where the thundering Bosphorus answers + the thunder of Pontic seas. + + + OENEUS. + + Dost thou mock at our praise + And the singing begun + And the men of strange days + Praising my son + In the folds of the hills of home, + high places of Calydon? + + + MELEAGER. + + For the dead man no home is; + Ah, better to be + What the flower of the foam is + In fields of the sea, + That the sea-waves might be as my raiment, + the gulf-stream a garment for me. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall seek thee and bring + And restore thee thy day, + When the dove dipt her wing + And the oars won their way + Where the narrowing Symplegades whitened the straits + of Propontis with spray? + + + MELEAGER. + + Will ye crown me my tomb + Or exalt me my name, + Now my spirits consume, + Now my flesh is a flame? + Let the sea slake it once, and men speak of me sleeping + to praise me or shame, + + + CHORUS. + + Turn back now, turn thee, + As who turns him to wake; + Though the life in thee burn thee, + Couldst thou bathe it and slake + Where the sea-ridge of Helle hangs heavier, + and east upon west waters break? + + + MELEAGER. + + Would the winds blow me back + Or the waves hurl me home? + Ah, to touch in the track + Where the pine learnt to roam + Cold girdles and crowns of the sea-gods, + cool blossoms of water and foam! + + + CHORUS. + + The gods may release + That they made fast; + Thy soul shall have ease + In thy limbs at the last; + But what shall they give thee for life, + sweet life that is overpast? + + + MELEAGER. + + Not the life of men's veins, + Not of flesh that conceives; + But the grace that remains, + The fair beauty that cleaves + To the life of the rains in the grasses, + the life of the dews on the leaves. + + + CHORUS. + + Thou wert helmsman and chief, + Wilt thou turn in an hour, + Thy limbs to the leaf, + Thy face to the flower, + Thy blood to the water, thy soul to the gods + who divide and devour? + + + MELEAGER. + + The years are hungry, + They wail all their days; + The gods wax angry + And weary of praise; + And who shall bridle their lips? + and who shall straiten their ways? + + + CHORUS. + + The gods guard over us + With sword and with rod; + Weaving shadow to cover us, + Heaping the sod, + That law may fulfil herself wholly, + to darken man's face before God. + + + MELEAGER. + + O holy head of Oeneus, lo thy son + Guiltless, yet red from alien guilt, yet foul + With kinship of contaminated lives, + Lo, for their blood I die; and mine own blood + For bloodshedding of mine is mixed therewith, + That death may not discern me from my kin. + Yet with clean heart I die and faultless hand, + Not shamefully; thou therefore of thy love + Salute me, and bid fare among the dead + Well, as the dead fare; for the best man dead + Fares sadly; nathless I now faring well + Pass without fear where nothing is to fear + Having thy love about me and thy goodwill, + O father, among dark places and men dead. + + + OENEUS. + + Child, I salute thee with sad heart and tears, + And bid thee comfort, being a perfect man + In fight, and honourable in the house of peace. + The gods give thee fair wage and dues of death, + And me brief days and ways to come at thee. + + + MELEAGER. + + Pray thou thy days be long before thy death, + And full of ease and kingdom; seeing in death + There is no comfort and none aftergrowth, + Nor shall one thence look up and see day's dawn + Nor light upon the land whither I go. + Live thou and take thy fill of days and die + When thy day comes; and make not much of death + Lest ere thy day thou reap an evil thing. + Thou too, the bitter mother and mother-plague + Of this my weary body--thou too, queen, + The source and end, the sower and the scythe, + The rain that ripens and the drought that slays, + The sand that swallows and the spring that feeds, + To make me and unmake me--thou, I say, + Althaea, since my father's ploughshare, drawn + Through fatal seedland of a female field, + Furrowed thy body, whence a wheaten ear + Strong from the sun and fragrant from the rains + I sprang and cleft the closure of thy womb, + Mother, I dying with unforgetful tongue + Hail thee as holy and worship thee as just + Who art unjust and unholy; and with my knees + Would worship, but thy fire and subtlety, + Dissundering them, devour me; for these limbs + Are as light dust and crumblings from mine urn + Before the fire has touched them; and my face + As a dead leaf or dead foot's mark on snow, + And all this body a broken barren tree + That was so strong, and all this flower of life + Disbranched and desecrated miserably, + And minished all that god-like muscle and might + And lesser than a man's: for all my veins + Fail me, and all mine ashen life burns down. + I would thou hadst let me live; but gods averse, + But fortune, and the fiery feet of change, + And time, these would not, these tread out my life, + These and not thou; me too thou hast loved, and I + Thee; but this death was mixed with all my life, + Mine end with my beginning: and this law, + This only, slays me, and not my mother at all. + And let no brother or sister grieve too sore, + Nor melt their hearts out on me with their tears, + Since extreme love and sorrowing overmuch + Vex the great gods, and overloving men + Slay and are slain for love's sake; and this house + Shall bear much better children; why should these + Weep? but in patience let them live their lives + And mine pass by forgotten: thou alone, + Mother, thou sole and only, thou not these, + Keep me in mind a little when I die + Because I was thy first-born; let thy soul + Pity me, pity even me gone hence and dead, + Though thou wert wroth, and though thou bear again + Much happier sons, and all men later born + Exceedingly excel me; yet do thou + Forget not, nor think shame; I was thy son. + Time was I did not shame thee, and time was + I thought to live and make thee honourable + With deeds as great as these men's; but they live, + These, and I die; and what thing should have been + Surely I know not; yet I charge thee, seeing + I am dead already, love me not the less, + Me, O my mother; I charge thee by these gods, + My father's, and that holier breast of thine, + By these that see me dying, and that which nursed, + Love me not less, thy first-born: though grief come, + Grief only, of me, and of all these great joy, + And shall come always to thee; for thou knowest, + O mother, O breasts that bare me, for ye know, + O sweet head of my mother, sacred eyes, + Ye know my soul albeit I sinned, ye know + Albeit I kneel not neither touch thy knees, + But with my lips I kneel, and with my heart + I fall about thy feet and worship thee. + And ye farewell now, all my friends; and ye, + Kinsmen, much younger and glorious more than I, + Sons of my mother's sister; and all farewell + That were in Colchis with me, and bare down + The waves and wars that met us: and though times + Change, and though now I be not anything, + Forget not me among you, what I did + In my good time; for even by all those days, + Those days and this, and your own living souls, + And by the light and luck of you that live, + And by this miserable spoil, and me + Dying, I beseech you, let my name not die. + But thou, dear, touch me with thy rose-like hands, + And fasten up mine eyelids with thy mouth, + A bitter kiss; and grasp me with thine arms, + Printing with heavy lips my light waste flesh, + Made light and thin by heavy-handed fate, + And with thine holy maiden eyes drop dew, + Drop tears for dew upon me who am dead, + Me who have loved thee; seeing without sin done + I am gone down to the empty weary house + Where no flesh is nor beauty nor swift eyes + Nor sound of mouth nor might of hands and feet, + But thou, dear, hide my body with thy veil, + And with thy raiment cover foot and head, + And stretch thyself upon me and touch hands + With hands and lips with lips: be pitiful + As thou art maiden perfect; let no man + Defile me to despise me, saying, This man + Died woman-wise, a woman's offering, slain + Through female fingers in his woof of life, + Dishonourable; for thou hast honoured me. + And now for God's sake kiss me once and twice + And let me go; for the night gathers me, + And in the night shall no man gather fruit. + + + ATALANTA. + + Hail thou: but I with heavy face and feet + Turn homeward and am gone out of thine eyes. + + + CHORUS. + + Who shall contend with his lords + Or cross them or do them wrong? + Who shall bind them as with cords? + Who shall tame them as with song? + Who shall smite them as with swords? + For the hands of their kingdom are strong. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ATALANTA IN CALYDON*** + + +******* This file should be named 15378.txt or 15378.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/3/7/15378 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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