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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/38011-8.txt b/38011-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f7c922 --- /dev/null +++ b/38011-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5519 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Epic of Hades, by Lewis Morris + +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: The Epic of Hades + In Three Books + +Author: Lewis Morris + +Release Date: November 14, 2011 [EBook #38011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE POETICAL WORKS OF + MR. LEWIS MORRIS. + + I. + SONGS OF TWO WORLDS. With Portrait. + Eleventh Edition, price 5_s._ + II. + THE EPIC OF HADES. With an Autotype + Illustration, Nineteenth Edition, price 5_s._ + III. + GWEN and THE ODE OF LIFE. With + Frontispiece. Sixth Edition, price 5_s._ + + THE EPIC OF HADES. Third Illustrated + Edition. With Sixteen Autotype Plates after the + Drawings by the late GEORGE R. CHAPMAN, 4to, + cloth extra, gilt edges, price 21_s._ + + THE EPIC OF HADES. The Presentation + Edition. 4to, cloth extra, price 10_s._ 6_d._ + + SONGS UNSUNG. Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo, + cloth, 6_s._ + + ** _For Notices of the Press, see end of this Volume._ + * + LONDON: KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO. + + + + + THE POETICAL WORKS OF + LEWIS MORRIS + + + + + _VOLUME TWO_ + + THE EPIC OF HADES + + + + + LONDON + KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE + 1885 + + + + + [Illustration: _Then with wings + Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes + Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land._ + Page 228.] + + + + + THE EPIC OF HADES + + IN THREE BOOKS + + BY + + LEWIS MORRIS + + M.A.; HONORARY FELLOW OF JESUS COLLEGE, OXFORD + KNIGHT OF THE REDEEMER OF GREECE, ETC., ETC. + + + "DIFFICILE EST PROPRIE COMMUNIA DICERE" + + + NINETEENTH EDITION. + + LONDON + + KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE + 1885 + + + + + "The three excellences of Poetry: simplicity of language, + simplicity of subject, and simplicity of invention"-- + _The Welsh Triads_. + + + (_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._) + + + + + TO ALL + + WHO LOVE THE LITERATURE OF GREECE + + THIS POEM IS DEDICATED + + BY + + THE AUTHOR. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I. + + TARTARUS. + + PAGE + TANTALUS 7 + + PHÆDRA 23 + + SISYPHUS 40 + + CLYTÆMNESTRA 55 + + + BOOK II. + + HADES. + + MARSYAS 82 + + ANDROMEDA 95 + + ACTÆON 110 + + HELEN 120 + + EURYDICE 145 + + ORPHEUS 150 + + DEIANEIRA 154 + + LAOCOON 166 + + NARCISSUS 175 + + MEDUSA 188 + + ADONIS 198 + + PERSEPHONE 202 + + ENDYMION 211 + + PSYCHE 219 + + + BOOK III. + + OLYMPUS. + + ARTEMIS 237 + + HERAKLES 244 + + APHRODITÉ 248 + + ATHENÉ 255 + + HERÉ 261 + + APOLLO 267 + + ZEUS 273 + + + + + BOOK I. + + TARTARUS. + + + + + THE EPIC OF HADES. + + + + +In February, when the dawn was slow, +And winds lay still, I gazed upon the fields +Which stretched before me, lifeless, and the stream +Which laboured in the distance to the sea, +Sullen and cold. No force of fancy took +My thought to bloomy June, when all the land +Lay deep in crested grass, and through the dew +The landrail brushed, and the lush banks were set +With strawberries, and the hot noise of bees +Lulled the bright flowers. Rather I seemed to move +Thro' that weird land, Hellenic fancy feigned, +Beyond the fabled river and the bark +Of Charon; and forthwith on every side +Rose the thin throng of ghosts. + First thro' the gloom +Of a dark grove I strayed--a sluggish wood, +Where scarce the faint fires of the setting stars, +Or some cold gleam of half-discovered dawn, +Might pierce the darkling pines. A twilight drear +Brooded o'er all the depths, and filled the dank +And sunken hollows of the rocks with shapes +Of terror,--beckoning hands and noiseless feet +Flitting from shade to shade, wide eyes that stared +With horror, and dumb mouths which seemed to cry, +Yet cried not. An ineffable despair +Hung over them and that dark world and took +The gazer captive, and a mingled pang +Of grief and anger, grown to fierce revolt +And hatred of the Invisible Force which holds +The issue of our lives and binds us fast +Within the net of Fate; as the fisher takes +The little quivering sea-things from the sea +And flings them gasping on the beach to die +Then spreads his net for more. And then again +I knew myself and those, creatures who lie +Safe in the strong grasp of Unchanging Law, +Encompassed round by hands unseen, and chains +Which do support the feeble life that else +Were spent on barren space; and thus I came +To look with less of horror, more of thought, +And bore to see the sight of pain that yet +Should grow to healing, when the concrete stain +Of life and act were purged, and the cleansed soul, +Renewed by the slow wear and waste of time, +Soared after æons of days. + They seemed alone, +Those prisoners, thro' all time. Each soul shut fast +In its own jail of woe, apart, alone, +For evermore alone; no thought of kin, +Or kindly human glance, or fellowship +Of suffering or of sin, made light the load +Of solitary pain. Ay, though they walked +Together, or were prisoned in one cell +With the partners of their wrong, or with strange souls +Which the same Furies tore, they knew them not, +But suffered still alone; as in that shape +Of hell fools build on earth, where hopeless sin +Rots slow in solitude, nor sees the face +Of men, nor hears the sound of speech, nor feels +The touch of human hand, but broods a ghost, +Hating the bare blank cell--the other self, +Which brought it thither--hating man and God, +And all that is or has been. + + + + + A great fear +And pity froze my blood, who seemed to see +A half-remembered form. + An Eastern King +It was who lay in pain. He wore a crown +Upon his aching brow, and his white robe +Was jewelled with fair gems of price, the signs +Of pomp and honour and all luxury, +Which might prevent desire. But as I looked +There came a hunger in the gloating eyes, +A quenchless thirst upon the parching lips, +And such unsatisfied strainings in the hands +Stretched idly forth on what I could not see, +Some fatal food of fancy; that I knew +The undying worm of sense, which frets and gnaws +The unsatisfied stained soul. + Seeing me, he said: +"What? And art thou too damned as I? Dost know +This thirst as I, and see as I the cool +Lymph drawn from thee and mock thy lips; and parch +For ever in continual thirst; and mark +The fair fruit offered to thy hunger fade +Before thy longing eyes? I thought there was +No other as I thro' all the weary lengths +Of Time the gods have made, who pined so long +And found fruition mock him. + Long ago, +When I was young on earth, 'twas a sweet pain +To ride all day in the long chase, and feel +Toil and the summer fire my blood and parch +My lips, while in my father's halls I knew +The cool bath waited, with its marble floor; +And juices from the ripe fruits pressed, and chilled +With snows from far-off peaks; and troops of slaves; +And music and the dance; and fair young forms. +And dalliance, and every joy of sense, +That haunts the dreams of youth, which strength and ease +Corrupt, and vacant hours. Ay, it was sweet +For a while to plunge in these, as fair boys plunge +Naked in summer streams, all veil of shame +Laid by, only the young dear body bathed +And sunk in its delight, while the firm earth, +The soft green pastures gay with innocent flowers, +Or sober harvest fields, show like a dream; +And nought is left, but the young life which floats +Upon the depths of death, to sink, maybe, +And drown in pleasure, or rise at length grown wise +And gain the abandoned shore. + Ah, but at last +The swift desire waxed stronger and more strong, +And feeding on itself, grows tyrannous; +And the parched soul no longer finds delight +In the cool stream of old; nay, this itself, +Smitten by the fire of sense as by a flame, +Holds not its coolness more; and fevered limbs, +Seeking the fresh tides of their youth, may find +No more refreshment, but a cauldron fired +With the fires of nether hell; and a black rage +Usurps the soul, and drives it on to slake +Its thirst with crime and blood. + Longing Desire! +Unsatisfied, sick, impotent Desire! +Oh, I have known it ages long. I knew +Its pain on earth ere yet my life had grown +To its full stature, thro' the weary years +Of manhood, nay, in age itself; I knew +The quenchless weary thirst, unsatisfied +By all the charms of sense, by wealth and power +And homage; always craving, never quenched-- +The undying curse of the soul! The ministers +And agents of my will drave far and wide +Through all the land for me, seeking to find +Fresh pleasures for me, who had spent my sum +Of pleasure, and had power, not even in thought, +Nor faculty to enjoy. They tore apart +The sacred claustral doors of home for me, +Defiled the inviolate hearth for me, laid waste +The flower of humble lives, in hope to heal +The sickly fancies of the king, till rose +A cry of pain from all the land; and I +Grew happier for it, since I held the power +To quench desire in blood. + But even thus +The old pain faded not, but swift again +Revived; and thro' the sensual dull lengths +Of my seraglios I stalked, and marked +The glitter of the gems, the precious webs +Plundered from every clime by cruel wars +That strewed the sands with corpses; lovely eyes +That looked no look of love, and fired no more +Thoughts of the flesh; rich meats, and fruits, and wines +Grown flat and savourless; and loathed them all, +And only cared for power; content to shed +Rivers of innocent blood, if only thus +I might appease my thirst. Until I grew +A monster gloating over blood and pain. + + Ah, weary, weary days, when every sense +Was satisfied, and nothing left to slake +The parched unhappy soul, except to watch +The writhing limbs and mark the slow blood drip, +Drop after drop, as the life ebbed with it; +In a new thrill of lust, till blood itself +Palled on me, and I knew the fiend I was, +Yet cared not--I who was, brief years ago, +Only a careless boy lapt round with ease, +Stretched by the soft and stealing tide of sense +Which now grew red; nor ever dreamed at all +What Furies lurked beneath it, but had shrunk +In indolent horror from the sight of tears +And misery, and felt my inmost soul +Sicken with the thought of blood. There comes a time +When the insatiate brute within the man, +Weary with wallowing in the mire, leaps forth +Devouring, and the cloven satyr-hoof +Grows to the rending claw, and the lewd leer +To the horrible fanged snarl, and the soul sinks +And leaves the man a devil, all his sin +Grown savourless, and yet he longs to sin +And longs in vain for ever. + Yet, methinks, +It was not for the gods to leave me thus. +I stinted not their worship, building shrines +To all of them; the Goddess of Love I served +With hecatombs, letting the fragrant fumes +Of incense and the costly steam ascend +From victims year by year; nay, my own son +Pelops, my best beloved, I gave to them +Offering, as he must offer who would gain +The great gods' grace, my dearest. + I had gained +Through long and weary orgies that strange sense +Of nothingness and wasted days which blights +The exhausted life, bearing upon its front +Counterfeit knowledge, when the bitter ash +Of Evil, which the sick soul loathes, appears +Like the pure fruit of Wisdom. I had grown +As wizards seem, who mingle sensual rites +And forms impure with murderous spells and dark +Enchantments; till the simple people held +My very weakness wisdom, and believed +That in my blood-stained palace-halls, withdrawn, +I kept the inner mysteries of Zeus +And knew the secret of all Being; who was +A sick and impotent wretch, so sick, so tired, +That even bloodshed palled. + For my stained soul, +Knowing its sin, hastened to purge itself +With every rite and charm which the dark lore +Of priestcraft offered to it. Spells obscene, +The blood of innocent babes, sorceries foul +Muttered at midnight--these could occupy +My weary days; till all my people shrank +To see me, and the mother clasped her child +Who heard the monster pass. + They would not hear. +They listened not--the cold ungrateful gods-- +For all my supplications; nay, the more +I sought them were they hidden. + At the last +A dark voice whispered nightly: 'Thou, poor wretch, +That art so sick and impotent, thyself +The source of all thy misery, the great gods +Ask a more precious gift and excellent +Than alien victims which thou prizest not +And givest without a pang. But shouldst thou take +Thy costliest and fairest offering, +'Twere otherwise. The life which thou hast given +Thou mayst recall. Go, offer at the shrine +Thy best belovèd Pelops, and appease +Zeus and the averted gods, and know again +The youth and joy of yore.' + Night after night, +While all the halls were still, and the cold stars +Were fading into dawn, I lay awake +Distraught with warring thoughts, my throbbing brain +Filled with that dreadful voice. I had not shrunk +From blood, but this, the strong son of my youth-- +How should I dare this thing? And all day long +I would steal from sight of him and men, and fight +Against the dreadful thought, until the voice +Seared all my burning brain, and clamoured, 'Kill! +Zeus bids thee, and be happy.' Then I rose +At midnight, when the halls were still, and raised +The arras, and stole soft to where my son +Lay sleeping. For one moment on his face +And stalwart limbs I gazed, and marked the rise +And fall of his young breast, and the soft plume +Which drooped upon his brow, and felt a thrill +Of yearning; but the cold voice urging me +Burned me like fire. Three times I gazed and turned +Irresolute, till last it thundered at me, +'Strike, fool! thou art in hell; strike, fool! and lose +The burden of thy chains.' Then with slow step +I crept as creeps the tiger on the deer, +Raised high my arm, shut close my eyes, and plunged +My dagger in his heart. + And then, with a flash, +The veil fell downward from my life and left +Myself to me--the daily sum of sense-- +The long continual trouble of desire-- +The stain of blood blotting the stain of lust-- +The weary foulness of my days, which wrecked +My heart and brain, and left me at the last +A madman and accursèd; and I knew, +Far higher than the sensual slope which held +The gods whom erst I worshipped, a white peak +Of Purity, and a stern voice pealing doom-- +Not the mad voice of old--which pierced so deep +Within my life, that with the reeking blade +Wet with the heart's blood of my child I smote +My guilty heart in twain. + Ah! fool, to dream +That the long stain of time might fade and merge +In one poor chrism of blood. They taught of yore, +My priests who flattered me--nor knew at all +The greater God I know, who sits afar +Beyond those earthly shapes, passionless, pure, +And awful as the Dawn--that the gods cared +For costly victims, drinking in the steam +Of sacrifice when the choice hecatombs +Were offered for my wrong. Ah no! there is +No recompense in these, nor any charm +To cleanse the stain of sin, but the long wear +Of suffering, when the soul which seized too much +Of pleasure here, grows righteous by the pain +That doth redress its ill. For what is Right +But equipoise of Nature, alternating +The Too Much and Too Little? Not on earth +The salutary silent forces work +Their final victory, but year on year +Passes, and age on age, and leaves the debt +Unsatisfied, while the o'erburdened soul +Unloads itself in pain. + Therefore it is +I suffer as I suffered ere swift death +Set me not free, no otherwise; and yet +There comes a healing purpose in my pain +I never knew on earth; nor ever here +The once-loved evil grows, only the tale +Of penalties grown greater hourly dwarfs +The accomplished sum of wrong. And yet desire +Pursues me still--sick, impotent desire, +Fiercer than that of earth. + We are ourselves +Our heaven and hell, the joy, the penalty, +The yearning, the fruition. Earth is hell +Or heaven, and yet not only earth; but still, +After the swift soul leaves the gates of death, +The pain grows deeper and less mixed, the joy +Purer and less alloyed, and we are damned +Or blest, as we have lived." + He ceased, with a wail +Like some complaining wind among the pines +Or pent among the fretful ocean caves, +A sick, sad sound. + Then as I looked, I saw +His eyes glare horribly, his dry parched lips +Open, his weary hands stretch idly forth +As if to clutch the air--infinite pain +And mockery of hope. "Seest thou them now?" +He said. "I thirst, I parch, I famish, yet +They still elude me, fair and tempting fruit +And cooling waters. Now they come again. +See, they are in my grasp, they are at my lips, +Now I shall quench me. Nay, again they fly +And mock me. Seest thou them, or am I shut +From hope for ever, hungering, thirsting still, +A madman and in Hell?" + And as I passed +In horror, his large eyes and straining hands +Froze all my soul with pity. + + + + + Then it was +A woman whom I saw: a dark pale Queen, +With passion in her eyes, and fear and pain +Holding her steadfast gaze, like one who sees +Some dreadful deed of wrong worked out and knows +Himself the cause, yet now is powerless +To stay the wrong he would. + Seeing me gaze +In pity on her woe, she turned and spake +With a low wailing voice-- + "Thou well mayst gaze +With horror on me, sir, for I am lost; +I have shed the innocent blood, long years ago, +Nay, centuries of pain. I have shed the blood +Of him I loved, and found for recompense +But self-inflicted death and age-long woe, +Which purges not my sin. And yet not I +It was who did it, but the gods, who took +A woman's loveless heart and tortured it +With love as with a fire. It was not I +Who slew my love, but Fate. Fate 'twas which brought +My love and me together, Fate which barred +The path of blameless love, yet set Love's flame +To burn and smoulder in a hopeless heart, +Where no relief might come. + The King was old, +And I a girl. 'Tis an old tale which runs +Thro' the sad ages, and 'twas mine. He had spent +His sum of love long since, and I--I knew not +A breath of Love as yet. Ah, it is strange +To lose the sense of maidenhood, drink deep +Of life to the very dregs, and yet not know +A flutter of Love's wing. Love takes no thought +For pomp, or palace, or respect of men; +Nor always in the stately marriage bed, +Closed round by silken curtains, laid on down, +Nestles a rosy form; but 'mid wild flowers +Or desert tents, or in the hind's low cot, +Beneath the aspect of the unconscious stars, +Dwells all night and is blest. + My love, my life! +He was the old man's son, a fair white soul-- +Not like the others, whom the fire of youth +Burns like a flame and hurries unrestrained +Thro' riotous days and nights, but virginal +And pure as any maid. No wandering glance +He deigned for all the maidens young and fair +Who sought their Prince's eye. But evermore, +Upon the high lawns wandering alone, +He dwelt unwed; weaving to Artemis, +Fairest of all Olympian maids, a wreath +From the unpolluted meads, where never herd +Drives his white flock, nor ever scythe has come, +But the bee sails upon unfettered wing +Over the spring-like lawns, and Purity +Waters them with soft dews;[1] and yet he showed +Of all his peers most manly--heart and soul +A very man, tender and true, and strong +And pitiful, and in his limbs and mien +Fair as Apollo's self. + It was at first +In Troezen that I saw him, when he came +To greet his sire. Amid the crowd of youths +He showed a Prince indeed; yet knew I not +Whom 'twas I saw, nor that I held the place +Which was his mother's, only from the throng +Love, with a barbed dart aiming, pierced my heart +Ere yet I knew what ailed me. Every glance +Fired me; the youthful grace, the tall straight limbs, +The swelling sinewy arms, the large dark eyes +Tender yet full of passion, the thick locks +Tossed from his brow, the lip and cheek which bore +The down of early manhood, seemed to feed +My heart with short-lived joy. + For when he stood +Forth from the throng and knelt before his sire, +Then raised his eyes to mine, I felt the curse +Of Aphrodité burn me, as it burned +My mother before me, and I dared not meet +His innocent, frank young eyes. + Said I then young? +Ay, but not young as mine. For I had known +The secret things of life, which age the soul +In a moment, writing on its front their mark +'Too early ripe;' and he was innocent, +My spouse in fitted years, within whose arms +I had defied the world. + I turned away +Like some white bird that leaves the flock, which sails +High in mid air above the haunts of men, +Feeling some little dart within her breast, +Not death, but like to death, and slowly sinks +Down to the earth alone, and bears her hurt +Unseen, by herbless sand and bitter pool, +And pines until the end. + Even from that day +I strove to gain his love. Nay, 'twas not I, +But the cruel gods who drove me. Day by day +We were together; for in days of old +Women were free, not pent in gilded jails +As afterwards, but free to walk alone, +For good or evil, free. I hardly took +Thought for my spouse, the King. For I had found +My love at last: what matter if it were +A guilty love? Yet love is love indeed, +Stronger than heaven or hell. Day after day +I set myself to tempt him from his proud +And innocent way, for I had spurned aside +Care for the gods or men--all but my love. + + What need to tell the tale? Was it a sigh, +A blush, a momentary glance, which brought +Assurance of my triumph? It is long +Since I have lived, I cannot tell; I know +Only the penalty of death and hell +Which followed on my sin. I knew he loved. +It was not wonderful, seeing that we dwelt +A boy and girl together. I was fair, +And Eros fired my eyes and lent my voice +His own soft tremulous tones. But when our souls +Trembled upon the verge, and fancy feigned +His arms around me as we fled alone +To some free land of exile, lo! a scroll: +'Dearest, it may not be; I fear the Gods; +We dare not do this wrong. I go from hence +And see thy face no more. Farewell! Forget +The love we may not own; go, seek for both +Forgiveness from the gods.' + When I read the words, +The cruel words, methought my heart stood still, +And when the ebbing life returned I seemed +To have lost all thought of Love. Only Revenge +Dwelt with me still, the fiercer that I knew +My long-prized hope, which came so near success, +Snatched from me and for ever. + When I rose +From my deep swoon, I bade a messenger +Go, seek the King for me. He came and sate +Beside my couch, and all the doors were closed, +And all withdrawn. Then with the liar's art, +And hypocrite tears, and feigned reluctancy, +And all the subtle wiles a woman draws +From the armoury of hate, I did instil +The poison to his soul. Cunning devices, +Feigned sorrow, mention of his son, regrets, +And half confessions--these, with hateful skill +Confused together, drove the old man's soul +To frenzy; and I watched him, with a sneer, +Turn to a dotard thirsting for the life +Of his own child. But how to do the deed, +Yet shed no blood, nor know the people's hate, +Who loved the Prince, I knew not. + Till one day +The old man, looking out upon the sea, +Besought the dread Poseidon to avenge +The treachery of his son. Even as we stood +Gazing upon the breathless blue, a cloud +Rose from the deep, a little fleecy cloud, +Which sudden grew and grew, and turned the blue +To purple; and a swift wind rose and sang +Higher and higher, and the wine-dark sea +Grew ruffled, and within the circling bay +The tiny ripples, stealing up the sand, +Plunged loud with manes of foam, until they swelled +To misty surges thundering on the shore. + + Then at the old man's elbow as I stood, +A deep dark thought, sent by the powers of ill, +Answering, as now I know, my own black hate +And not my poor dupe's anger, fired my soul +And bade me speak. 'The god has heard thy prayer,' +I whispered; 'See the surge which wakes and swells +To fury; well I know what things shall be. +It is Poseidon's voice sounds in the storm +And sends thy vengeance. Young Hippolytus +Loves, as thou knowest, on the yellow sand, +Hard by the rippled margin of the wave, +To urge his flying steeds. Bid him go forth-- +He will obey--and see what recompense +The god will send his wrong.' + In the old man's eyes +A watery gleam of malice played awhile-- +I hated him for it--and he bade his son +Drive forth his chariot on the sand, and yoke +His three young fiery steeds. + And still the storm +Blew fiercer and more fierce, and the white crests +Plunged on the strand, and the high promontories +Resounded counter-stricken, and a mist +Of foam, blown landward, hid the sounding shore. + + Then saw I him come forth and bid them yoke +His untamed colts. I had not seen his face +Since that last day, but, seeing him, I felt +The old love spring anew, yet mixed with hate-- +A storm of warring passions. Tho' I knew +What end should come, yet would I speak no word +That might avert it. The old man looked forth; +I think he had well-nigh forgotten all +The wrong he fancied and the doom he prayed, +All but the father's pride in the strong son, +Who was so young and bold. I saw a smile +Upon the dotard's face, when now the steeds +Were harnessed and the chariot, on the sand +Along the circling margin of the bay, +Flew, swift as light. A sudden gleam of sun +Flashed on the silver harness as it went, +Burned on the brazen axles of the wheels, +And on the golden fillets of the Prince +Doubled the gold. Sometimes a larger wave +Would dash in mist around him, and in fear +The rearing coursers plunged, and then again +The strong young arm constrained them, and they flashed +To where the wave-worn foreland ends the bay. + + And then he turned his chariot, a bright speck +Now seen, now hidden, but always, tho' the surge +Broke round it, safe; emerging like a star +From the white clouds of foam. And as I watched, +Speaking no word, and breathing scarce a breath, +I saw the firm limbs strongly set apart +Upon the chariot, and the reins held high, +And the proud head bent forward, with long locks +Streaming behind, as nearer and more near +The swift team rushed--until, with a half joy, +It seemed as if my love might yet elude +The slow sure anger of the god, dull wrath +Swayed by a woman's lie. + But on the verge, +As I cast my eyes, a vast and purple wall +Swelled swiftly towards the land; the lesser waves +Sank as it came, and to its toppling crest +The spume-flecked waters, from the strand drawn back, +Left dry the yellow shore. Onward it came, +Hoarse, capped with breaking foam, lurid, immense, +Rearing its dreadful height. The chariot sped +Nearer and nearer. I could see my love +With the light of victory in his eyes, the smile +Of daring on his lips: so near he came +To where the marble palace-wall confined +The narrow strip of beach--his brave young eyes +Fixed steadfast on the goal, in the pride of life, +Without a thought of death. I strove to cry, +But terror choked my breath. Then, like a bull +Upon the windy level of the plain +Lashing himself to rage, the furious wave, +Poising itself a moment, tossing high +Its wind-vexed crest, dashed downward on the strand +With a stamp, with a rush, with a roar. + And when I looked, +The shore, the fields, the plain, were one white sea +Of churning, seething foam--chariot and steeds +Gone, and my darling on the wave's white crest +Tossed high, whirled down, beaten, and bruised, and flung, +Dying upon the marble. + + My great love +Sprang up redoubled, and cast out my hate +And spurned all thought of fear; and down the stair +I hurried, and upon the bleeding form +I threw myself, and raised his head, and clasped +His body to mine, and kissed him on the lips, +And in his dying ear confessed my wrong, +And saw the horror in his dying eyes +And knew that I was damned. And when he breathed +His last pure breath, I rose and slowly spake-- +Turned to a Fury now by love and pain-- +To the old man who knelt, while all the throng +Could hear my secret: 'See, thou fool, I am +The murderess of thy son, and thou my dupe, +Thou and thy gods. See, he was innocent; +I murdered him for love. I scorn ye all, +Thee and thy gods together, who are deceived +By a woman's lying tongue! Oh, doting fool, +To hate thy own! And ye, false powers, which punish +The innocent, and let the guilty soul +Escape unscathed, I hate ye all--I curse, +I loathe you!' + Then I stooped and kissed my love, +And left them in amaze; and up the stair +Swept slowly to my chamber, and therein, +Hating my life and cursing men and gods, +I did myself to death. + But even here, +I find my punishment. Oh, dreadful doom +Of souls like mine! To see their evil done +Always before their eyes, the one dread scene +Of horror. See, the dark wave on the verge +Towers horrible, and he---- Oh, Love, my Love! +Safety is near! quick! quicker! urge them on! +Thou wilt 'scape it yet!--Nay, nay, it bursts on him! +I have shed the innocent blood! Oh, dreadful gaze +Within his glazing eyes! Hide them, ye gods! +Hide them! I cannot bear them. Quick! a dagger! +I will lose their glare in death. Nay, die I cannot; +I must endure and live--Death brings not peace +To the lost souls in Hell." + And her eyes stared, +Rounded with horror, and she stooped and gazed +So eagerly, and pressed her fevered hands +Upon her trembling forehead with such pain +As drives the gazer mad. + + + + + Then as I passed, +I marked against the hardly dawning sky +A toilsome figure standing, bent and strained, +Before a rocky mass, which with great pain +And agony of labour it would thrust +Up a steep hill. But when upon the crest +It poised a moment, then I held my breath +With dread, for, lo! the poor feet seemed to clutch +The hillside as in fear, and the poor hands +With hopeless fingers pressed into the stone +In agony, and the limbs stiffened, and a cry +Like some strong swimmer's, whom the mightier stream +Sweeps downward, and he sees his children's eyes +Upon the bank; broke from him; and at last, +After long struggles of despair, the limbs +Relaxed, and as I closed my fearful eyes, +Seeing the inevitable doom--a crash, +A horrible thunderous noise, as down the steep +The shameless fragment leapt. From crag to crag +It bounded ever swifter, striking fire +And wrapt in smoke, as to the lowest depths +Of the vale it tore, and seemed to take with it +The miserable form whose painful gaze +I caught, as with the great rock whirled and dashed +Downward, and marking every crag with gore +And long gray hairs, it plunged, yet living still, +To the black hollow; and then a silence came +More dreadful than the noise, and a low groan +Was all that I could hear. + When to the foot +Of the dark steep I hurried, half in hope +To find the victim dead--not recognizing +The undying life of Hell--I seemed to see +An aged man, bruised, bleeding, with gray hairs, +And eyes from which the cunning leer of greed +Was scarcely yet gone out. + A crafty voice +It was that answered me, the voice of guile +Part purified by pain: + "There comes not death +To those who live in Hell, nor hardly pause +Of suffering longer than may serve to make +The pain renewed, more piercing. Long ago, +I thought that I had cheated Death, and now +I seek him; but he comes not, nor know I +If ever he will hear me. Whence art thou? +Comest thou from earthly air, or whence? What power +Has brought thee hither? For I know indeed +Thou art not lost as I; for never here +I look upon a human face, nor see +The ghosts who doubtless here on every side +Suffer a common pain, only at times +I hear the echo of a shriek far off, +Like some faint ghost of woe which fills the pause +And interval of suffering; but from whom +The voice may come, or whence, I know not, only +The air teems with vague pain, which doth distract +The ear when for a moment comes surcease +Of agony, and the sense of effort spent +In vain and fruitless labour, and the pang +Of long-deferred defeat, which waits and takes +The world-worn heart, and maddens it when all-- +Heaven, conscience, happiness, are staked and lost +For gains which still elude it. + Yet 'twas sweet, +A King in early youth, when pleasure is sweet, +To live the fair successful years, and know +The envy and respect of men. I cared +For none of youth's delights: the dance, the song, +Allured me not; the smooth soft ways of sense +Tempted me not at all. I could despise +The follies that I shared not, spending all +The long laborious days in toilsome schemes +To compass honour and wealth, and, as I grew +In name and fame, finding my hoarded gains +Transmuted into Power. The seas were white +With laden argosies, and all were mine. +The sheltering moles defied the wintry storms, +And all were mine. The marble aqueducts, +The costly bridges, all were mine. Fair roads +Wound round and round the hills--my work. The gods +Alone I heeded not, nor cared at all +For aught but that my eyes and ears might take, +Spurning invisible things, nor built I to them +Temple or shrine, wrapt up in life, set round +With earthly blessings like a god. I rose +To such excess of weal and fame and pride, +My people held me god-like. I grew drunk +With too great power, scoffing at men and gods, +Careless of both, but not averse to fling +To those too weak themselves, what benefits +My larger wisdom spurned. + Then suddenly +I knew the pain of failure. Summer storms +Sucked down my fleets even within sight of port. +A grievous blight wasted the harvest-fields, +Mocking my hopes of gain. Wars came and drained +My store, and I grew needy, knowing now +The hell of stronger souls, the loss of power +Wherein they exulted once. There comes no pain +Deeper than to have known delight of power, +And then to lose it all. But I, I would not +Sit tame beneath defeat, trimming my sails +To wait the breeze of Fortune--fickle breath +Which perhaps might breathe no more--but chose instead +By rash conceit and bolder enterprise +To win her aid again. I had no thought +Of selfish gain, only to be and act +As a god to those, feeding my sum of pride +With acted good. + But evermore defeat +Dogged me, and evermore my people grew +To doubt me, seeing no more the wealth, the force, +Which once they worshipped. Then the lust of power +Loved, not for sake of others, but itself, +Grew on me, and the pride which can dare all, +Save failure only, seized me. Evil finds +Its ready chance. There were rich argosies +Upon the seas: I sank them, ship and crew, +In the unbetraying ocean. Wayfarers +Crossing the passes with rich merchandise +My creatures, hid behind the crags, o'erwhelmed +With rocks hurled downward. Yet I spent my gains +For the public weal, not otherwise; and they, +The careless people, took the piteous spoils +Which cost the lives of many, and a man's soul, +And blessed the giver. Empty venal blessings, +Which sting more deep than curses! + For awhile +I was content with this, but at the last +A great contempt and hatred of them took me, +The base, vile churls! Why should I stain my soul +For such as those--dogs that would fawn and lick +The hand that fed them, but, if food should fail, +Would turn and rend me? I would none of them; +I would grow rich and happy, being indeed +Godlike in brain to such. So with all craft, +And guile, and violence I enriched me, loading +My treasuries with gold. My deep-laid schemes +Of gain engrossed the long laborious days, +Stretched far into the night. Enjoy, I might not, +Seeing it was all to do, and life so brief +That ere a man might gain the goal he would, +Lo! Age, and with it Death, and so an end! +For all the tales of the indignant gods, +What were they but the priests'? I had myself +Broken all oaths; long time deceived and ruined +With every phase of fraud the pious fools +Whom oath-sworn Justice bound; battened on blood +And what was I the worse? How should the gods +Bear rule if I were happy? Death alone +Was certain. Therefore must I haste to heap +Treasure sufficient for my need, and then +Enjoy the gathered good. + But gradually +There came--not great disasters which might crush +All hope, but petty checks which did decrease +My store, and left my labour vain, and me +Unwilling to enjoy; and gradually +I felt the chill approach of age, which stole +Higher and higher on me, till the life, +As in a paralytic, left my limbs +And heart, and mounted upwards to my brain, +Its last resort, and rested there awhile +Ere it should spread its wings. But even thus, +Tho' powerless to enjoy, the insatiate greed +And thirst of power sustained me, and supplied +Life's spark with some scant fuel, till it seemed, +Year after year, as if I could not die, +Holding so fast to life. I grew so old +That all the comrades of my youth, my prime, +My age, were gone, and I was left alone +With those who knew me not, bereft of all +Except my master passion--an old man +Forlorn, forgotten of the gods and Death. + + So all the people, seeing me grow old +And prosperous, held me wise, and spread abroad +Strange fables, growing day by day more strange-- +How I deceived the very gods. They thought +That I was blest, remembering not the wear +Of anxious thought, the growing sum of pain, +The failing ear and eye, the slower limbs, +Whose briefer name is Age: and yet I trow +I was not all unhappy, though I knew +It was too late to enjoy, and though my store +Increased not as my greed--nay, even sunk down +A little, year by year. Till, last of all, +When now my time was come and I had grown +A little tired of living, a trivial hurt +Laid me upon my bed; and as I mused +On my long life and all its villanies, +The wickedness I did, the blood I shed, +The guile, the frauds of years--they came with news, +One now, and now another; how my schemes +Were crushed, my enterprises lost, my toil +And labour all in vain. Day after day +They brought these tidings, while I longed to rise +And stay the tide of ill, and raved to know +I could not. At the last the added sum +Of evil, like yon great rock poised awhile +Uncertain, gathered into one, o'erwhelmed +My feeble strength, and left me ruined and lost, +And showed me all I was, and all the depth +And folly of my sin, and racked my brain, +And sank me in despair and misery, +And broke my heart and slew me. + Therefore 'tis +I spend the long, long centuries which have come +Between me and my sin, in such dread tasks +As that thou sawest. In the soul I sinned: +In body and soul I suffer. What I bade +My minions do to others, that of woe +I bear myself; and in the pause of ill, +As now, I know again the bitter pang +Of failure, which of old pierced thro' my soul +And left me to despair. The pain of mind +Is fiercer far than any bodily ill, +And both are mine--the pang of torture-pain +Always recurring; and, far worse, the pang +Of consciousness of black sins sinned in vain-- +The doom of constant failure. + Will, fierce Will! +Thou parent of unrest and toil and woe, +Measureless effort! growing day by day +To force strong souls along the giddy steep +That slopes to the pit of Hell, where effort serves +Only to speed destruction! Yet I know +Thou art not, as some hold, the primal curse +Which doth condemn us; since thou bearest in thee +No power to satisfy thyself; but rather, +The spring of act, whereby in earth and heaven +Both men and gods do breathe and live and are, +Since Life is Act and not to Do is Death-- +I do not blame thee: but to work in vain +Is bitterest penalty: to find at last +The soul all fouled with sin and stained with blood +In vain; ah, this is hell indeed--the hell +Of lost and striving souls!" + Then as I passed, +The halting figure bent itself again +To the old task, and up the rugged steep +Thrust the great rock with groanings. Horror chained +My parting footsteps, like a nightmare dream +Which holds us that we flee not, with wide eyes +That loathe to see, yet cannot choose but gaze +Till all be done. Slowly, with dreadful toil +And struggle and strain, and bleeding hands and knees, +And more than mortal strength, against the hill +He pressed, the wretched one! till with long pain +He trembled on the summit, a gaunt form, +With that great rock above him, poised and strained, +Now gaining, now receding, now in act +To win the summit, now borne down again, +And then the inevitable crash--the mass +Leaping from crag to crag. But ere it ceased +In dreadful silence, and the low groan came, +My limbs were loosed with one convulsive bound; +I hid my face within my hands, and fled, +Surfeit with horror. + + + + + Then it was again +A woman whom I saw, pitiless, stern, +Bearing the brand of blood--a lithe dark form, +And cruel eyes which glared beneath the gems +That argued her a Queen, and on her side +An ancient stain of gore, which did befoul +Her royal robe. A murderess in thought +And dreadful act, who took within the toils +Her kingly Lord, and slew him of old time +After burnt Troy. I had no time to speak +When she shrieked thus: + "It doth repent me not +I would 'twere yet to do, and I would do it +Again a thousand times, if the shed blood +Might for one hour restore me to the kisses +Of my Ægisthus. Oh, he was divine, +My hero, with the godlike locks and eyes +Of Eros' self! What boots it that they prate +Of wifely duty, love of spouse or child, +Honour or pity, when the swift fire takes +A woman's heart, and burns it out, and leaps +With fierce forked tongue around it, till it lies +In ashes, a dead heart, nor aught remains +Of old affections, naught but the new flame +Which is unquenched desire? + It did not come, +My blessing, all at once, but the slow fruit +Of solitude and midnight loneliness, +And weary waiting for the tardy news +Of taken Troy. Long years I sate alone, +Widowed, within my palace, while my Lord +Was over seas, waging the accursèd war, +First of the file of Kings. Year after year +Came false report, or harder, no report +Of the great fleet. The summers waxed and waned, +The wintry surges smote the sounding shores, +And yet there came no end of it. They brought +Now hopeless failure, now great victories; +And all alike were false, all but delay +And hope deferred, which cometh not, but breaks +The heart which suffering wrings not. + So I bore +Long time the solitary years, and sought +To solace the dull days with motherly cares +For those my Lord had left me. My firstborn, +Iphigeneia, sailed at first with him +Upon that fatal voyage, but the young +Orestes and Electra stayed with me-- +Not dear as she was, for the firstborn takes +The mother's heart, and, with the milk it draws +From the mother's virgin breast, drains all the love +It bore, ay, even tho' the sire be dear; +Much more, then, when he is a King indeed, +Mighty in war and council, but too high +To stoop to a woman's love. But she was gone, +Nor heard I tidings of her, knowing not +If yet she walked the earth, nor if she bare +The load of children, even as I had borne +Her in my opening girlhood, when I leapt +From child to Queen, but never loved the King. + + Thus the slow years rolled onward, till at last +There came a dreadful rumour--'She is dead, +Thy daughter, years ago. The cruel priests +Clamoured for blood; the stern cold Kings stood round +Without a tear, and he, her sire, with them, +To see a virgin bleed. They cut with knives +The taper girlish throat; they watched the blood +Drip slowly on the sand, and the young life +Meek as a lamb come to the sacrifice +To appease the angry gods.' And he, the King, +Her father, stood by too, and saw them do it, +The wickedness, breathing no word of wrath, +Till all was done! The cowards! the dull cowards! +I would some black storm, bursting suddenly, +Had whelmed them and their fleets, ere yet they dared +To waste an innocent life! + I had gone mad, +I know it, but for him, my love, my dear, +My fair sweet love. He came to comfort me +With words of friendship, holding that my Lord +Was bound, perhaps, to let her die--'The gods +Were ofttimes hard to appease--or was it indeed +The priests who asked it? Were there any gods? +Or only phantoms, creatures of the brain, +Born of the fears of men, the greed of priests, +Useful to govern women? Had he been +Lord of the fleet, not all the soothsayers +Who ever frighted cowards should have brought +His soul to such black depths.' I hearkening to him +As 'twere my own thought grown articulate, +Found my grief turn to hate, and hate to love-- +Hate of my Lord, love of the voice which spoke +Such dear and comfortable words. And thus, +Love to a storm of passion growing, swept +My wounded soul and dried my tears, as dries +The hot sirocco all the bitter pools +Of salt among the sand. I never knew +True love before; I was a child, no more, +When the King cast his eyes on me. What is it +To have borne the weight of offspring 'neath the zone, +If Love be not their sire; or live long years +Of commerce, not of love? Better a day +Of Passion than the long unlovely years +Of wifely duty, when Love cometh not +To wake the barren days! + And yet at first +I hesitated long, nor would embrace +The blessing that was mine. We are hedged round, +We women, by such close-drawn ordinances, +Set round us by our tyrants, that we fear +To overstep a hand's breadth the dull bounds +Of custom; but at last Love, waking in me, +Burst all my chains asunder, and I lived +For naught but Love. + My son, the young Orestes, +I sent far off; my girl Electra only +Remained, too young to doubt me, and I knew +At last what 'twas to live. + So the swift years +Fleeted and found me happy, till the dark +Ill-omened day when Rumour, thousand-tongued, +Whispered of taken Troy; and from my dream +Of happiness, sudden I woke, and knew +The coming retribution. We had grown +Too loving for concealment, and our tale +Of mutual love was bruited far and wide +Through Argos. All the gossips bruited it, +And were all tongue to tell it to the King +When he should come. And should the cold proud Lord +I never loved, the murderer of my girl, +Come 'twixt my love and me? A swift resolve +Flashed through me pondering on it: Love for Love +And Blood for Blood--the simple golden rule +Taught by the elder gods. + When I had taken +My fixed resolve, I grew impatient for it, +Counting the laggard days. Oh, it was sweet +To simulate the yearning of a wife +Long parted from her Lord, and mock the fools +Who dogged each look and word, and but for fear +Had torn me from my throne--the pies, the jays, +The impotent chatterers, who thought by words +To stay me in the act! 'Twas sweet to mock them +And read distrust within their eyes, when I, +Knowing my purpose, bade them quick prepare +All fitting honours for the King, and knew +They dared not disobey--oh, 'twas enough +To wing the slow-paced hours. + But when at last +I saw his sails upon the verge, and then +The sea-worn ship, and marked his face grown old, +The body a little bent, which was so straight, +The thin gray hairs which were the raven locks +Of manhood when he went, I felt a moment +I could not do the deed. But when I saw +The beautiful sad woman come with him, +The future in her eyes, and her sad voice +Proclaimed the tale of doom, two thoughts at once +Assailed me, bidding me despatch with a blow +Him and his mistress, making sure the will +Of fate, and my revenge. + Oh, it was strange +To see all happen as we planned; as 'twere +Some drama oft rehearsed, wherein each step, +Each word, is so prepared, the poorest player +Knows his turn come to do--the solemn landing-- +The ride to the palace gate--the courtesies +Of welcome--the mute crowds without--the bath +Prepared within--the precious circling folds +Of tissue stretched around him, shutting out +The gaze, and folding helpless like a net +The mighty limbs--the battle-axe laid down +Against the wall, and I, his wife and Queen, +Alone with him, waiting and watching still, +Till the woman shrieked without. Then with swift step +I seized the axe, and struck him as he lay +Helpless, once, twice, and thrice--once for my girl, +Once for my love, once for the woman, and all +For Fate and my Revenge! + He gave a groan, +Once only, as I thought he might; and then +No sound but the quick gurgling of the blood, +As it flowed from him in streams, and turned the pure +And limpid water of the bath to red-- +I had not looked for that--it flowed and flowed, +And seemed to madden me to look on it, +Until my love with hands bloody as mine, +But with the woman's blood, rushed in, and eyes +Rounded with horror; and we turned to go, +And left the dead alone. + But happiness +Still mocked me, and a doubt unknown before +Came on me, and amid the silken shows +And luxury of power I seemed to see +Another answer to my riddle of life +Than that I gave myself, and it was 'murder;' +And in my people's sullen mien and eyes, +'Murder;' and in the mirror, when I looked, +'Murder' glared out, and terror lest my son +Returning, grown to manhood, should avenge +His father's blood. For somehow, as 'twould seem, +The gods, if gods there be, or the stern Fate +Which doth direct our little lives, do filch +Our happiness--though bright with Love's own ray, +There comes a cloud which veils it. Yet, indeed, +My days were happy. I repent me not; +I would wade through seas of blood to know again +Those fierce delights once more. + But my young girl +Electra, grown to woman, turned from me +Her modest maiden eyes, nor loved to set +Her kiss upon my cheek, but, all distraught +With secret care, hid her from all the pomps +And revelries which did befit her youth, +Walking alone; and often at the tomb +Of her lost sire they found her, pouring out +Libations to the dead. And evermore +I did bethink me of my son Orestes, +Who now should be a man; and yearned sometimes +To see his face, yet feared lest from his eyes +His father's soul should smite me. + So I lived +Happy and yet unquiet--a stern voice +Speaking of doom, which long time softer notes +Of careless weal, the music that doth spring +From the fair harmonies of life and love, +Would drown in their own concord. This at times +Nay, day by day, stronger and dreadfuller, +With dominant accent, marred the sounds of joy +By one prevailing discord. So at length +I came to lose the Present in the dread +Of what might come; the penalty that waits +Upon successful sin; who, having sinned, +Had missed my sin's reward. + Until one day +I, looking from my palace casement, saw +A humble suppliant, clad in pilgrim garb, +Approach the marble stair. A sudden throb +Thrilled thro' me, and the mother's heart went forth +Thro' all disguise of garb and rank and years, +Knowing my son. How fair he was, how tall +And vigorous, my boy! What strong straight limbs +And noble port! How beautiful the shade +Of manhood on his lip! I longed to burst +From my chamber down, yearning to throw myself +Upon his neck within the palace court, +Before the guards--spurning my queenly rank, +All but my motherhood. And then a chill +Of doubt o'erspread me, knowing what a gulf +Fate set between our lives, impassable +As that great gulf which yawns 'twixt life and death +And 'twixt this Hell and Heaven. I shrank back, +And turned to think a moment, half in fear, +And half in pain; dividing the swift mind, +Yet all in love. + Then came a cry, a groan, +From the inner court, the clash of swords, the fall +Of a body on the pavement; and one cried, +'The King is dead, slain by the young Orestes, +Who cometh hither.' With the word, the door +Flew open, and my son stood straight before me, +His drawn sword dripping blood. Oh, he was fair +And terrible to see, when from his limbs, +The suppliant's mantle fallen, left the mail +And arms of a young warrior. Love and Hate, +Which are the offspring of a common sire, +Strove for the mastery, till within his eyes +I saw his father's ghost glare unappeased +From out Love's casements. + Then I knew my fate +And his--mine to be slain by my son's hand, +And his to slay me, since the Furies drave +Our lives to one destruction; and I took +His point within my breast. + But I praise not +The selfish, careless gods who wrecked our lives, +Making the King the murderer of his girl, +And me his murderess; making my son +The murderer of his mother and her love-- +A mystery of blood!--I curse them all, +The careless Forces, sitting far withdrawn +Upon the heights of Space, taking men's lives +For playthings, and deriding as in sport +Our happiness and woe--I curse them all. +We have a right to joy; we have a right, +I say, as they have. Let them stand confessed +The puppets that they are--too weak to give +The good they feign to love, since Fate, too strong +For them as us, beyond their painted sky, +Sits and derides them, too. I curse Fate too, +The deaf blind Fury, taking human souls +And crushing them, as a dull fretful child +Crushes its toys and knows not with what skill +Those feeble forms are feigned. + I curse, I loathe, +I spit on them. It doth repent me not. +I would 'twere yet to do. I have lived my life. +I have loved. See, there he lies within the bath, +And thus I smite him! thus! Didst hear him groan? +Oh, vengeance, thou art sweet! What, living still? +Ah me! we cannot die! Come, torture me, +Ye Furies--for I love not soothing words-- +As once ye did my son. Ye miserable +Blind ministers of Hell, I do defy you; +Not all your torments can undo the Past +Of Passion and of Love!" + + Even as she spake +There came a viewless trouble in the air, +Which took her, and a sweep of wings unseen, +And terrible sounds, which swooped on her and hushed +Her voice, and seemed to occupy her soul +With horror and despair; and as she passed +I marked her agonized eyes. + + + + + But as I went, +Full many a dreadful shape of lonely pain +I saw. What need to tell them? We are filled +Who live to-day with a more present sense +Of the great love of God, than those of old +Who, groping in the dawn of Knowledge, saw +Only dark shadows of the Unknown; or he, +First-born of modern singers, who swept deep +His awful lyre, and woke the voice of song, +Dumb for long centuries of pain. We dread +To dwell on those long agonies its sin +Brings on the offending soul; who hold a creed +Of deeper Pity, knowing what chains of ill +Bind round our petty lives. Each phase of woe, +Suffering, and torture which the gloomy thought +Of bigots feigns for others--all were there. +One there was stretched upon a rolling wheel, +Which was the barren round of sense, that still +Returned upon itself and broke the limbs +Bound to it day and night. Others I saw +Doomed, with unceasing toil, to fill the urns +Whose precious waters sank ere they could slake +Their burning thirst. Another shapeless soul, +Full of revolts and hates and tyrannous force, +The weight of earth, which was its earth-born taint, +Pressed groaning down, while with fierce beak and claw +The vulture of remorse, piercing his breast, +Preyed on his heart. For others, overhead, +Great crags of rock impending seemed to fall, +But fell not nor brought peace. I felt my soul +Blunted with horrors, yearning to escape +To where, upon the limits of the wood, +Some scanty twilight grew. + But ere I passed +From those grim shades a deep voice sounded near, +A voice without a form. + "There is an end +Of all things that thou seest! There is an end +Of Wrong and Death and Hell! When the long wear +Of Time and Suffering has effaced the stain +Ingrown upon the soul, and the cleansed spirit, +Long ages floating on the wandering winds +Or rolling deeps of Space, renews itself +And doth regain its dwelling, and, once more +Blent with the general order, floats anew +Upon the stream of Things,[2] and comes at length, +After new deaths, to that dim waiting-place +Thou next shalt see, and with the justified +White souls awaits the End; or, snatched at once, +If Fate so will, to the pure sphere itself, +Lives and is blest, and works the Eternal Work +Whose name and end is Love! There is an end +Of Wrong and Death and Hell!" + Even as I heard, +I passed from out the shadow of Death and Pain, +Crying, "There is an end!" + + + + + END OF BOOK I. + + + + + BOOK II. + + HADES. + + + + + Then from those dark +And dreadful precincts passing, ghostly fields +And voiceless took me. A faint twilight veiled +The leafless, shadowy trees and herbless plains. +There stirred no breath of air to wake to life +The slumbers of the world. The sky above +Was one gray, changeless cloud. There looked no eye +Of Life from the veiled heavens; but Sleep and Death +Were round me everywhere. And yet no fear +Nor horror took me here, where was no pain +Nor dread, save that strange tremor which assails +One who in life's hot noontide looks on death +And knows he too shall die. The ghosts which rose +From every darkling copse showed thin and pale-- +Thinner and paler far than those I left +In agony; even as Pity seems to wear +A thinner form than Fear. + Not caged alone +Like those the avenging Furies purged were these, +Nor that dim land as those black cavernous depths +Where no hope comes. Fair souls were they and white +Whom there I saw, waiting as we shall wait, +The Beatific End, but thin and pale +As the young faith which made them; touched a little +By the sad memories of the earth; made glad +A little by past joys: no more; and wrapt +In musing on the brief play played by them +Upon the lively earth, yet ignorant +Of the long lapse of years, and what had been +Since they too breathed Life's air, or if they knew, +Keeping some echo only; but their pain +Was fainter than their joy, and a great hope +Like ours possessed them dimly. + + + + + First I saw +A youth who pensive leaned against the trunk +Of a dark cypress, and an idle flute +Hung at his side. A sorrowful sad soul, +Such as sometimes he knows, who meets the gaze, +Mute, uncomplaining yet most pitiful, +Of one whom nature, by some secret spite, +Has maimed and left imperfect; or the pain +Which fills a poet's eyes. Beneath his robe +I seemed to see the scar of cruel stripes, +Too hastily concealed. Yet was he not +Wholly unhappy, but from out the core +Of suffering flowed a secret spring of joy, +Which mocked the droughts of Fate, and left him glad +And glorying in his sorrow. As I gazed +He raised his silent flute, and, half ashamed, +Blew a soft note; and as I stayed awhile +I heard him thus discourse-- + "The flute is sweet +To gods and men, but sweeter far the lyre +And voice of a true singer. Shall I fear +To tell of that great trial, when I strove +And Phoebus conquered? Nay, no shame it is +To bow to an immortal melody; +But glory. + Once among the Phrygian hills +I lay a-musing,--while the silly sheep +Wandered among the thyme--upon the bank +Of a clear mountain stream, beneath the pines, +Safe hidden from the noon. A dreamy haze +Played on the uplands, but the hills were clear +In sunlight, and no cloud was on the sky. +It was the time when a deep silence comes +Upon the summer earth, and all the birds +Have ceased from singing, and the world is still +As midnight, and if any live thing move-- +Some fur-clad creature, or cool gliding snake-- +Within the pipy overgrowth of weeds, +The ear can catch the rustle, and the trees +And earth and air are listening. As I lay, +Faintly, as in a dream, I seemed to hear +A tender music, like the Æolian chords, +Sound low within the woodland, whence the stream, +Flowed full, yet silent. Long, with ear to ground, +I hearkened; and the sweet strain, fuller grown, +Rounder and clearer came, and danced along +In mirthful measure now, and now grown grave +In dying falls, and sweeter and more clear, +Tripping at nuptials and high revelry, +Wailing at burials, rapt in soaring thoughts, +Chanting strange sea-tales full of mystery, +Touching all chords of being, and life and death, +Now rose, now sank, and always was divine, +So strange the music came. + Till, as I lay +Enraptured, swift a sudden discord rang, +And all the sound grew still. A sudden flash, +As from a sunlit jewel, fired the wood. +A noise of water smitten, and on the hills +A fair white fleece of cloud, which swiftly climbed +Into the farthest heaven. Then, as I mused, +Knowing a parting goddess, straight I saw +A sudden splendour float upon the stream, +And knew it for this jewelled flute, which paused +Before me on an eddy. It I snatched +Eager, and to my ardent lips I bore +The wonder, and behold, with the first breath-- +The first warm human breath, the silent strains. +The half-drowned notes which late the goddess blew, +Revived, and sounded clearer, sweeter far +Than mortal skill could make. So with delight +I left my flocks to wander o'er the wastes +Untended, and the wolves and eagles seized +The tender lambs, but I was for my art-- +Nought else; and though the high-pitched notes divine +Grew faint, yet something lingered, and at last +So sweet a note I sounded of my skill, +That all the Phrygian highlands, all the white +Hill villages, were fain to hear the strain, +Which the mad shepherd made. + So, overbold, +And rapt in my new art, at last I dared +To challenge Phoebus' self. + 'Twas a fair day +When sudden, on the mountain side, I saw +A train of fleecy clouds in a white band +Descending. Down the gleaming pinnacles +And difficult crags they floated, and the arch, +Drawn with its thousand rays against the sun, +Hung like a glory o'er them. Midst the pines +They clothed themselves with form, and straight I knew +The immortals. Young Apollo, with his lyre, +Kissed by the sun, and all the Muses clad +In robes of gleaming white; then a great fear, +Yet mixed with joy, assailed me, for I knew +Myself a mortal equalled with the gods. + + Ah me! how fair they were! how fair and dread +In face and form, they showed, when now they came +Upon the thymy slope, and the young god +Lay with his choir around him, beautiful +And bold as Youth and Dawn! There was no cloud +Upon the sky, nor any sound at all +When I began my strain. No coward fear +Of what might come restrained me; but an awe +Of those immortal eyes and ears divine +Looking and listening. All the earth seemed full +Of ears for me alone--the woods, the fields, +The hills, the skies were listening. Scarce a sound +My flute might make; such subtle harmonies +The silence seemed to weave round me and flout +The half unuttered thought. Till last I blew, +As now, a hesitating note, and lo! +The breath divine, lingering on mortal lips, +Hurried my soul along to such fair rhymes, +Sweeter than wont, that swift I knew my life +Rise up within me, and expand, and all +The human, which so nearly is divine, +Was glorified, and on the Muses' lips, +And in their lovely eyes, I saw a fair +Approval, and my soul in me was glad. + + For all the strains I blew were strains of love-- +Love striving, love triumphant, love that lies +Within belovèd arms, and wreathes his locks +With flowers, and lets the world go by and sings +Unheeding; and I saw a kindly gleam +Within the Muses' eyes, who were indeed, +Women, though god-like. + But upon the face +Of the young Sun-god only haughty scorn +Sate and he swiftly struck his golden lyre, +And played the Song of Life; and lo, I knew +My strain, how earthy! Oh, to hear the young +Apollo playing! and the hidden cells +And chambers of the universe displayed +Before the charmèd sound! I seemed to float +In some enchanted cave, where the wave dips +In from the sunlit sea, and floods its depths +With reflex hues of heaven. My soul was rapt +By that I heard, and dared to wish no more +For victory; and yet because the sound +Of music that is born of human breath +Comes straighter from the soul than any strain +The hand alone can make; therefore I knew, +With a mixed thrill of pity and delight, +The nine immortal Sisters hardly touched +By this fine strain of music, as by mine, +And when the high lay trembled to its close, +Still doubting. + Then upon the Sun-god's face +There passed a cold proud smile. He swept his lyre +Once more, then laid it down, and with clear voice, +The voice of godhead, sang. Oh, ecstasy, +Oh happiness of him who once has heard +Apollo singing! For his ears the sound +Of grosser music dies, and all the earth +Is full of subtle undertones, which change +The listener and transform him. As he sang-- +Of what I know not, but the music touched +Each chord of being--I felt my secret life +Stand open to it, as the parched earth yawns +To drink the summer rain; and at the call +Of those refreshing waters, all my thought +Stir from its dark and secret depths, and burst +Into sweet, odorous flowers, and from their wells +Deep call to deep, and all the mystery +Of all that is, laid open. As he sang, +I saw the Nine, with lovely pitying eyes, +Sign 'He has conquered.' Yet I felt no pang +Of fear, only deep joy that I had heard +Such music while I lived, even though it brought +Torture and death. For what were it to lie +Sleek, crowned with roses, drinking vulgar praise, +And surfeited with offerings, the dull gift +Of ignorant hands--all which I might have known-- +To this diviner failure? Godlike 'tis +To climb upon the icy ledge, and fall +Where other footsteps dare not. So I knew +My fate, and it was near. + For to a pine +They bound me willing, and with cruel stripes +Tore me, and took my life. + But from my blood +Was born the stream of song, and on its flow +My poor flute, to the cool swift river borne, +Floated, and thence adown a lordlier tide +Into the deep, wide sea. I do not blame +Phoebus, or Nature which has set this bar +Betwixt success and failure, for I know +How far high failure overleaps the bound +Of low successes. Only suffering draws +The inner heart of song and can elicit +The perfumes of the soul. 'Twere not enough +To fail, for that were happiness to him +Who ever upward looks with reverent eye +And seeks but to admire. So, since the race +Of bards soars highest; as who seek to show +Our lives as in a glass; therefore it comes +That suffering weds with song, from him of old, +Who solaced his blank darkness with his verse; +Through all the story of neglect and scorn, +Necessity, sheer hunger, early death, +Which smite the singer still. Not only those +Who keep clear accents of the voice divine +Are honourable--they are happy, indeed, +Whate'er the world has held--but those who hear +Some fair faint echoes, though the crowd be deaf, +And see the white gods' garments on the hills, +Which the crowd sees not, though they may not find +Fit music for their thought; they too are blest, +Not pitiable. Not from arrogant pride +Nor over-boldness fail they who have striven +To tell what they have heard, with voice too weak +For such high message. More it is than ease, +Palace and pomp, honours and luxuries, +To have seen white Presences upon the hills, +To have heard the voices of the Eternal Gods." + + So spake he, and I seemed to look on him, +Whose sad young eyes grow on us from the page +Of his own verse: who did himself to death: +Or whom the dullard slew: or whom the sea +Rapt from us: and I passed without a word, +Slow, grave, with many musings. + + + + + Then I came +On one a maiden, meek with folded hands, +Seated against a rugged face of cliff, +In silent thought. Anon she raised her arms, +Her gleaming arms, above her on the rock, +With hands which clasped each other, till she showed +As in a statue, and her white robe fell +Down from her maiden shoulders, and I knew +The fair form as it seemed chained to the stone +By some invisible gyves, and named her name: +And then she raised her frightened eyes to mine +As one who, long expecting some great fear, +Scarce sees deliverance come. But when she saw +Only a kindly glance, a softer look +Came in them, and she answered to my thought +With a sweet voice and low. + "I did but muse +Upon the painful past, long dead and done, +Forgetting I was saved. + The angry clouds +Burst always on the low flat plains, and swept +The harvest to the ocean; all the land +Was wasted. A great serpent from the deep, +Lifting his horrible head above their homes, +Devoured the children. And the people prayed +In vain to careless gods. + On that dear land, +Which now was turned into a sullen sea, +Gazing in safety from the stately towers +Of my sire's palace, I, a princess, saw, +Lapt in soft luxury, within my bower +The wreck of humble homes come whirling by, +The drowning, bleating flocks, the bellowing herds, +The grain scarce husbanded by toiling hands +Upon the sunlit plain, rush to the sea, +With floating corpses. On the rain-swept hills +The remnant of the people huddled close, +Homeless and starving. All my being was filled +With pity for them, and I joyed to give +What food and shelter and compassionate hands +Of woman might. I took the little ones +And clasped them shivering to the virgin breast +Which knew no other touch but theirs, and gave +Raiment and food. My sire, not stern to me, +Smiled on me as he saw. My gentle mother, +Who loved me with a closer love than binds +A mother to her son; and sunned herself +In my fresh beauty, seeing in my young eyes +Her own fair vanished youth; doted on me, +And fain had kept my eyes from the sad sights +That pained them. But my heart was sad in me, +Seeing the ineffable miseries of life, +And that mysterious anger of the gods, +And helpless to allay them. All in vain +Were prayer and supplication, all in vain +The costly victims steamed. The vengeful clouds +Hid the fierce sky, and still the ruin came. +And wallowing his grim length within the flood, +Over the ravaged fields and homeless homes, +The fell sea-monster raged, sating his jaws +With blood and rapine. + Then to the dread shrine +Of Ammon went the priests, and reverend chiefs +Of all the nation. White robed, at their head, +Went slow my royal sire. The oracle +Spoke clear, not as ofttimes in words obscure, +Ambiguous. And as we stood to meet +The suppliants--she who bare me, with her head +Upon my neck--we cheerful and with song +Welcomed their swift return; auguring well +From such a quick-sped mission. + But my sire +Hid his face from me, and the crowd of priests +And nobles looked not at us. And no word +Was spoken till at last one drew a scroll +And gave it to the queen, who straightway swooned, +Having read it, on my breast, and then I saw, +I the young girl whose soft life scarcely knew +Shadow of sorrow, I whose heart was full +Of pity for the rest, what doom was mine. + + I think I hardly knew in that dread hour +The fear that came anon; I was transformed +Into a champion of my race, made strong +With a new courage, glorying to meet, +In all the ecstasy of sacrifice, +Death face to face. Some god, I know not who, +O'erspread me, and despite my mother's tears +And my stern father's grief, I met my fate +Unshrinking. + When the moon rose clear from cloud +Once more again over the midnight sea, +And that vast watery plain, where were before +Hundreds of happy homes, and well-tilled fields, +And purple vineyards; from my father's towers +The white procession went along the paths, +The high cliff paths, which well I loved of old, +Among the myrtles. Priests with censers went +And offerings, robed in white, and round their brows +The sacred fillet. With his nobles walked +My sire with breaking heart. My mother clung +To me the victim, and the young girls went +With wailing and with tears. A solemn strain +The soft flutes sounded, as we went by night +To a wild headland, rock-based in the sea. + + There on a sea-worn rock, upon the verge, +To some rude stanchions, high above my head, +They bound me. Out at sea, a black reef rose, +Washed by the constant surge, wherein a cave +Sheltered deep down the monster. The sad queen +Would scarcely leave me, though the priests shrunk back +In terror. Last, torn from my endless kiss, +Swooning they bore her upwards. All my robe +Fell from my lifted arms, and left displayed +The virgin treasure of my breasts; and then +The white procession through the moonlight streamed +Upwards, and soon their soft flutes sounded low +Upon the high lawns, leaving me alone. + + There stood I in the moonlight, left alone +Against the sea-worn rock. Hardly I knew, +Seeing only the bright moon and summer sea, +Which gently heaved and surged, and kissed the ledge +With smooth warm tides, what fate was mine. I seemed, +Soothed by the quiet, to be resting still +Within my maiden chamber, and to watch +The moonlight thro' my lattice. Then again +Fear came, and then the pride of sacrifice +Filled me, as on the high cliff lawns I heard +The wailing cries, the chanted liturgies, +And knew me bound forsaken to the rock, +And saw the monster-haunted depths of sea. + + So all night long upon the sandy shores +I heard the hollow murmur of the wave, +And all night long the hidden sea caves made +A ghostly echo; and the sea birds mewed +Around me; once I heard a mocking laugh, +As of some scornful Nereid; once the waters +Broke louder on the scarpèd reefs, and ebbed +As if the monster coming; but again +He came not, and the dead moon sank, and still +Only upon the cliffs the wails, the chants, +And I forsaken on my sea-worn rock, +And lo, the monster-haunted depths of sea. + + Till at the dead dark hour before the dawn, +When sick men die, and scarcely fear itself +Bore up my weary eyelids, a great surge +Burst on the rock, and slowly, as it seemed, +The sea sucked downward to its depths, laid bare +The hidden reefs, and then before my eyes-- +Oh, horrible! a huge and loathsome snake +Lifted his dreadful crest and scaly side +Above the wave, in bulk and length so large, +Coil after hideous coil, that scarce the eye +Could measure its full horror; the great jaws +Dropped as with gore; the large and furious eyes +Were fired with blood and lust. Nearer he came, +And slowly, with a devilish glare, more near, +Till his hot foetor choked me, and his tongue, +Forked horribly within his poisonous jaws, +Played lightning-like around me. For awhile +I swooned, and when I knew my life again, +Death's bitterness was past. + Then with a bound +Leaped up the broad red sun above the sea, +And lit the horrid fulgour of his scales, +And struck upon the rock; and as I turned +My head in the last agony of death, +I knew a brilliant sunbeam swiftly leaping +Downward from crag to crag, and felt new hope +Where all was hopeless. On the hills a shout +Of joy, and on the rocks the ring of mail; +And while the hungry serpent's gloating eyes +Were fixed on me, a knight in casque of gold +And blazing shield, who with his flashing blade +Fell on the monster. Long the conflict raged, +Till all the rocks were red with blood and slime, +And yet my champion from those horrible jaws +And dreadful coils was scatheless. Zeus his sire +Protected, and the awful shield he bore +Withered the monster's life and left him cold, +Dragging his helpless length and grovelling crest: +And o'er his glaring eyes the films of death +Crept, and his writhing flank and hiss of hate +The great deep swallowed down, and blood and spume +Rose on the waves; and a strange wailing cry +Resounded o'er the waters, and the sea +Bellowed within its hollow-sounding caves. + + Then knew I, I was saved, and with me all +The people. From my wrists he loosed the gyves, +My hero; and within his godlike arms +Bore me by slippery rock and difficult path, +To where my mother prayed. There was no need +To ask my love. Without a spoken word +Love lit his fires within me. My young heart +Went forth, Love calling, and I gave him all. + + Dost thou then wonder that the memory +Of this supreme brief moment lingers still, +While all the happy uneventful years +Of wedded life, and all the fair young growth +Of offspring, and the tranquil later joys, +Nay, even the fierce eventful fight which raged +When we were wedded, fade and are deceased, +Lost in the irrecoverable past? +Nay, 'tis not strange. Always the memory +Of overwhelming perils or great joys, +Avoided or enjoyed, writes its own trace +With such deep characters upon our lives, +That all the rest are blotted. In this place, +Where is not action, thought, or count of time, +It is not weary as it were on earth, +To dwell on these old memories. Time is born +Of dawns and sunsets, days that wax and wane +And stamp themselves upon the yielding face +Of fleeting human life; but here there is +Morning nor evening, act nor suffering, +But only one unchanging Present holds +Our being suspended. One blest day indeed, +Or centuries ago or yesterday, +There came among us one who was Divine, +Not as our gods, joyous and breathing strength +And careless life, but crowned with a new crown +Of suffering, and a great light came with him, +And with him he brought Time and a new sense +Of dim, long-vanished years; and since he passed +I seem to see new meaning in my fate, +And all the deeds I tell of. Evermore +The young life comes, bound to the cruel rocks +Alone. Before it the unfathomed sea +Smiles, filled with monstrous growths that wait to take +Its innocence. Far off the voice and hand +Of love kneel by in agony, and entreat +The seeming careless gods. Still when the deep +Is smoothest, lo, the deadly fangs and coils +Lurk near, to smite with death. And o'er the crags +Of duty, like a sudden sunbeam, springs +Some golden soul half mortal, half divine, +Heaven-sent, and breaks the chain; and evermore +For sacrifice they die, through sacrifice +They live, and are for others, and no grief +Which smites the humblest but reverberates +Thro' all the close-set files of life, and takes +The princely soul that from its royal towers +Looks down and sees the sorrow. + Sir, farewell! +If thou shouldst meet my children on the earth +Or here, for maybe it is long ago +Since I and they were living, say to them +I only muse a little here, and wait +The waking." + And her lifted arms sank down +Upon her knees, and as I passed I saw her +Gazing with soft rapt eyes, and on her lips +A smile as of a saint. + + + + + And then I saw +A manly hunter pace along the lea, +His bow upon his shoulder, and his spear +Poised idly in his hand: the face and form +Of vigorous youth; but in the full brown eyes +A timorous gaze as of a hunted hart, +Brute-like, yet human still, even as the Faun +Of old, the dumb brute passing into man, +And dowered with double nature. As he came +I seemed to question of his fate, and he +Answered me thus: + "'Twas one hot afternoon +That I, a hunter, wearied with my day, +Heard my hounds baying fainter on the hills, +Led by the flying hart; and when the sound +Faded and all was still, I turned to seek, +O'ercome by heat and thirst, a little glade, +Beloved of old, where, in the shadowy wood, +The clear cold crystal of a mossy pool +Lipped the soft emerald marge, and gave again +The flower-starred lawn where ofttimes overspent +I lay upon the grass and careless bathed +My limbs in the sweet lymph. + But as I neared +The hollow, sudden through the leaves I saw +A throng of wood-nymphs fair, sporting undraped +Round one, a goddess. She with timid hand +Loosened her zone, and glancing round let fall +Her robe from neck and bosom, pure and bright, +(For it was Dian's self I saw, none else) +As when she frees her from a fleece of cloud +And swims along the deep blue sea of heaven +On sweet June nights. Silent awhile I stood, +Rooted with awe, and fain had turned to fly, +But feared by careless footstep to affright +Those chaste cold eyes. Great awe and reverence +Held me, and fear; then Love with passing wing +Fanned me, and held my eyes, and checked my breath, +Signing 'Beware!' + So for a time I watched, +Breathless as one a brooding nightmare holds, +Who fleeth some great fear, yet fleeth not; +Till the last flutter of lawn, and veil no more +Obscured, and all the beauty of my dreams +Assailed my sense. But ere I raised my eyes, +As one who fain would look and see the sun, +The first glance dazed my brain. Only I knew +The perfect outline flow in tender curves, +To break in doubled charms; only a haze +Of creamy white, dimple, and deep divine: +And then no more. For lo! a sudden chill, +And such thick mist as shuts the hills at eve, +Oppressed me gazing; and a heaven-sent shame, +An awe, a fear, a reverence for the unknown, +Froze all the springs of will and left me cold, +And blinded all the longings of my eyes, +Leaving such dim reflection still as mocks +Him who has looked on a great light, and keeps +On his closed eyes the image. Presently, +My fainting soul, safe hidden for awhile +Deep in Life's mystic shades, renewed herself, +And straight, the innocent brute within the man +Bore on me, and with half-averted eye +I gazed upon the secret. + As I looked, +A radiance, white as beamed the frosty moon +On the mad boy and slew him, beamed on me; +Made chill my pulses, checked my life and heat; +Transformed me, withered all my soul, and left +My being burnt out. For lo! the dreadful eyes +Of Godhead met my gaze, and through the mask +And thick disguise of sense, as through a wood, +Pierced to my life. Then suddenly I knew +An altered nature, touched by no desire +For that which showed so lovely, but declined +To lower levels. Nought of fear or awe, +Nothing of love was mine. Wide-eyed I gazed, +But saw no spiritual beam to blight +My brain with too much beauty, no undraped +And awful majesty; only a brute, +Dumb charm, like that which draws the brute to it, +Unknowing it is drawn. So gradually +I knew a dull content o'ercloud my sense, +And unabashed I gazed, like that dumb bird +Which thinks no thought and speaks no word, yet fronts +The sun that blinded Homer--all my fear +Sunk with my shame, in a base happiness. + + But as I gazed, and careless turned and passed +Through the thick wood, forgetting what had been, +And thinking thoughts no longer, swift there came +A mortal terror: voices that I knew, +My own hounds' bayings that I loved before, +As with them often o'er the purple hills +I chased the flying hart from slope to slope, +Before the slow sun climbed the Eastern peaks, +Until the swift sun smote the Western plain; +Whom often I had cheered by voice and glance, +Whom often I had checked with hand and thong +Grim followers, like the passions, firing me, +True servants, like the strong nerves, urging me +On many a fruitless chase, to find and take +Some too swift-fleeting beauty; faithful feet +And tongues, obedient always: these I knew, +Clothed with a new-born force and vaster grown, +And stronger than their master; and I thought, +What if they tare me with their jaws, nor knew +That once I ruled them,--brute pursuing brute, +And I the quarry? Then I turned and fled,-- +If it was I indeed that feared and fled-- +Down the long glades, and through the tangled brakes, +Where scarce the sunlight pierced; fled on and on, +And panted, self-pursued. But evermore +The dissonant music which I knew so sweet, +When by the windy hills, the echoing vales, +And whispering pines it rang, now far, now near, +As from my rushing steed I leant and cheered +With voice and horn the chase--this brought to me +Fear of I knew not what, which bade me fly, +Fly always, fly; but when my heart stood still, +And all my limbs were stiffened as I fled, +Just as the white moon ghost-like climbed the sky, +Nearer they came and nearer, baying loud, +With bloodshot eyes and red jaws dripping foam; +And when I strove to check their savagery, +Speaking with words; no voice articulate came, +Only a dumb, low bleat. Then all the throng +Leapt swift on me, and tare me as I lay, +And left me man again. + Wherefore I walk +Along these dim fields peopled with the ghosts +Of heroes who have left the ways of earth +For this faint ghost of them. Sometimes I think, +Pondering on what has been, that all my days +Were shadows, all my life an allegory; +And, though I know sometimes some fainter gleam +Of the old beauty move me, and sometimes +Some beat of the old pulses; that my fate, +For ever hurrying on in hot pursuit, +To fall at length self-slain, was but a tale +Writ large by Zeus upon a mortal life, +Writ large, and yet a riddle. For sometimes +I read its meaning thus: Life is a chase, +And Man the hunter, always following on, +With hounds of rushing thought or fiery sense, +Some hidden truth or beauty, fleeting still +For ever through the thick-leaved coverts deep +And wind-worn wolds of time. And if he turn +A moment from the hot pursuit to seize +Some chance-brought sweetness, other than the search +To which his soul is set,--some dalliance, +Some outward shape of Art, some lower love, +Some charm of wealth and sleek content and home,-- +Then, if he check an instant, the swift chase +Of fierce untempered energies which pursue, +With jaws unsated and a thirst for act, +Bears down on him with clanging shock, and whelms +His prize and him in ruin. + And sometimes +I seem to myself a thinker, who at last, +Amid the chase and capture of low ends, +Pausing by some cold well of hidden thought +Comes on some perfect truth, and looks and looks +Till the fair vision blinds him. And the sum +Of all his lower self pursuing him, +The strong brute forces, the unchecked desires, +Finding him bound and speechless, deem him now +No more their master, but some soulless thing; +And leap on him, and seize him, and possess +His life, till through death's gate he pass to life, +And, his own ghost, revives. But looks no more +Upon the truth unveiled, save through a cloud +Of creed and faith and longing, which shall change +One day to perfect knowledge. + But whoe'er +Shall read the riddle of my life, I walk +In this dim land amid dim ghosts of kings, +As one day thou shalt; meantime, fare thou well." + + Then passed he; and I marked him slowly go +Along the winding ways of that weird land, +And vanish in a wood. + + + + + And next I knew +A woman perfect as a young man's dream, +And breathing as it seemed the old sweet air +Of the fair days of old, when man was young +And life an Epic. Round the lips a smile +Subtle and deep and sweet as hers who looks +From the old painter's canvas, and derides +Life and the riddle of things, the aimless strife, +The folly of Love, as who has proved it all, +Enjoyed and suffered. In the lovely eyes +A weary look, no other than the gaze +Which ofttimes as the rapid chariot whirls, +And ofttimes by the glaring midnight streets, +Gleams out and chills our thought. And yet not guilt +Nor sorrow was it; only weariness, +No more, and still most lovely. As I named +Her name in haste, she looked with half surprise, +And thus she seemed to speak: + "What? Dost thou know +Thou too, the fatal glances which beguiled +Those strong rude chiefs of old? Has not the gloom +Of this dim land withdrawn from out mine eyes +The glamour which once filled them? Does my cheek +Retain the round of youth and still defy +The wear of immemorial centuries? +And this low voice, long silent, keeps it still +The music of old time? Aye, in thine eyes +I read it, and within thine eyes I see +Thou knowest me, and the story of my life +Sung by the blind old bard when I was dead, +And all my lovers dust. I know thee not, +Thee nor thy gods, yet would I soothly swear +I was not all to blame for what has been, +The long fight, the swift death, the woes, the tears +The brave lives spent, the humble homes uptorn +To gain one poor fair face. It was not I +That curved these lips into this subtle smile, +Or gave these eyes their fire, nor yet made round +This supple frame. It was not I, but Love, +Love mirroring himself in all things fair, +Love that projects himself upon a life, +And dotes on his own image. + Ah! the days, +The weary years of Love and feasts and gold, +The hurried flights, the din of clattering hoofs +At midnight, when the heroes dared for me, +And bore me o'er the hills; the swift pursuits +Baffled and lost; or when from isle to isle +The high-oared galley spread its wings and rose +Over the swelling surges, and I saw, +Time after time, the scarce familiar town, +The sharp-cut hills, the well-loved palaces, +The gleaming temples fade, and all for me, +Me the dead prize, the shell, the soulless ghost, +The husk of a true woman; the fond words +Wasted on careless ears, that seemed to hear, +Of love to me unloving; the rich feasts, +The silken dalliance and soft luxury, +The fair observance and high reverence +For me who cared not, to whatever land +My kingly lover snatched me. I have known +How small a fence Love sets between the king +And the strong hind, who breeds his brood, and dies +Upon the field he tills. I have exchanged +People for people, crown for glittering crown, +Through every change a queen, and held my state +Hateful, and sickened in my soul to lie +Stretched on soft cushions to the lutes' low sound, +While on the wasted fields the clang of arms +Rang, and the foemen perished, and swift death, +Hunger, and plague, and every phase of woe +Vexed all the land for me. I have heard the curse +Unspoken, when the wife widowed for me +Clasped to her heart her orphans starved for me; +As I swept proudly by. I have prayed the gods, +Hating my own fair face which wrought such woe, +Some plague divine might light on it and leave +My curse a ruin. Yet I think indeed +They had not cursed but pitied, those true wives +Who mourned their humble lords, and straining felt +The innocent thrill which swells the mother's heart +Who clasps her growing boy; had they but known +The lifeless life, the pain of hypocrite smiles, +The dead load of caresses simulated, +When Love stands shuddering by to see his fires +Lit for the shrine of gold. What if they felt +The weariness of loveless love which grew +And through the jealous palace portals seized +The caged unloving woman, sick of toys, +Sick of her gilded chains, her ease, herself, +Till for sheer weariness she flew to meet +Some new unloved seducer? What if they knew +No childish loving hands, or worse than all, +Had borne them sullen to a sire unloved, +And left them without pain? I might have been, +I too, a loving mother and chaste wife, +Had Fate so willed. + For I remember well +How one day straying from my father's halls +Seeking anemones and violets, +A girl in Spring-time, when the heart makes Spring +Within the budding bosom, that I came +Of a sudden through a wood upon a bay, +A little sunny land-locked bay, whose banks +Sloped gently downward to the yellow sand, +Where the blue wave creamed soft with fairy foam, +And oft the Nereids sported. As I strayed +Singing, with fresh-pulled violets in my hair +And bosom, and my hands were full of flowers, +I came upon a little milk-white lamb, +And took it in my arms and fondled it, +And wreathed its neck with flowers, and sang to it +And kissed it, and the Spring was in my life, +And I was glad. + And when I raised my eyes +Behold, a youthful shepherd with his crook +Stood by me and regarded as I lay, +Tall, fair, with clustering curls, and front that wore +A budding manhood. As I looked a fear +Came o'er me, lest he were some youthful god +Disguised in shape of man, so fair he was; +But when he spoke, the kindly face was full +Of manhood, and the large eyes full of fire +Drew me without a word, and all the flowers +Fell from me, and the little milk-white lamb +Strayed through the brake, and took with it the white +Fair years of childhood. Time fulfilled my being +With passion like a cup, and with one kiss +Left me a woman. + Ah! the lovely days, +When on the warm bank crowned with flowers we sate +And thought no harm, and his thin reed pipe made +Low music, and no witness of our love +Intruded, but the tinkle of the flock +Came from the hill, and 'neath the odorous shade +We dreamed away the day, and watched the waves +Steal shoreward, and beyond the sylvan capes +The innumerable laughter of the sea! + +Ah youth and love! So passed the happy days +Till twilight, and I stole as in a dream +Homeward, and lived as in a happy dream, +And when they spoke answered as in a dream, +And through the darkness saw, as in a glass, +The happy, happy day, and thrilled and glowed +And kept my love in sleep, and longed for dawn +And scarcely stayed for hunger, and with morn +Stole eager to the little wood, and fed +My life with kisses. Ah! the joyous days +Of innocence, when Love was Queen in heaven, +And nature unreproved! Break they then still, +Those azure circles, on a golden shore? +Smiles there no glade upon the older earth +Where spite of all, gray wisdom, and new gods, +Young lovers dream within each other's arms +Silent, by shadowy grove, or sunlit sea? + + Ah days too fair to last! There came a night +When I lay longing for my love, and knew +Sudden the clang of hoofs, the broken doors. +The clash of swords, the shouts, the groans, the stain +Of red upon the marble, the fixed gaze +Of dead and dying eyes,--that was the time +When first I looked on death,--and when I woke +From my deep swoon, I felt the night air cool +Upon my brow, and the cold stars look down, +As swift we galloped o'er the darkling plain; +And saw the chill sea glimpses slowly wake, +With arms unknown around me. When the dawn +Broke swift, we panted on the pathless steeps, +And so by plain and mountain till we came +To Athens, where they kept me till I grew +Fairer with every year, and many wooed, +Heroes and chieftains, but I loved not one. + + And then the avengers came and snatched me back +To Sparta. All the dark high-crested chiefs +Of Argos wooed me, striving king with king +For one fair foolish face, nor knew I kept +No heart to give them. Yet since I was grown +Weary of honeyed words and suit of love, +I wedded a brave chief, dauntless and true. +But what cared I? I could not prize at all +His honest service. I had grown so tired +Of loving and of love, that when they brought +News that the fairest shepherd on the hills, +Having done himself to death for his lost love, +Lay, like a lovely statue, cold and white +Upon the golden sand, I hardly knew +More than a passing pang. Love, like a flower, +Love, springing up too tall in a young breast, +The growth of morning, Life's too scorching sun +Had withered long ere noon. Love, like a flame +On his own altar offering up my heart, +Had burnt my being to ashes. + Was it love +That drew me then to Paris? He was fair, +I grant you, fairer than a summer morn, +Fair with a woman's fairness, yet in arms +A hero, but he never had my heart, +Not love for him allured me, but the thirst +For freedom, if in more than thought I erred, +And was not rapt but willing. For my child, +Born to an unloved father, loved me not, +The fresh sea called, the galleys plunged, and I +Fled willing from my prison and the pain +Of undesired caresses, and the wind +Was fair, and on the third day as we sailed, +My heart was glad within me when I saw +The towers of Ilium rise beyond the wave. + + Ah, the long years, the melancholy years, +The miserable melancholy years! +For soon the new grew old, and then I grew +Weary of him, of all, of pomp and state +And novel splendour. Yet at times I knew +Some thrill of pride within me as I saw +From those high walls, a prisoner and a foe, +The swift ships flock at anchor in the bay, +The hasty landing and the flash of arms, +The lines of royal tents upon the plain, +The close-shut gates, the chivalry within +Issuing in all its pride to meet the shock +Of the bold chiefs without; so year by year +The haughty challenge from the warring hosts +Rang forth, and I with a divided heart +Saw victory incline, now here, now there, +And helpless marked the Argive chiefs I knew, +The spouse I left, the princely loves of old, +Now with each other strive, and now with Troy: +The brave pomp of the morn, the fair strong limbs, +The glittering panoply, the bold young hearts, +Athirst for fame of war, and with the night +The broken spear, the shattered helm, the plume +Dyed red with blood, the ghastly dying face, +And nerveless limbs laid lifeless. And I knew +The stainless Hector whom I could have loved, +But that a happy love made blind his eyes +To all my baleful beauty; fallen and dragged +His noble, manly head upon the sand +By young Achilles' chariot; him in turn +Fallen and slain; my fair false Paris slain; +Plague, famine, battle, raging now within, +And now without, for many a weary year, +Summer and winter, till I loathed to live, +Who was indeed, as well they said, the Hell +Of men, and fleets, and cities. As I stood +Upon the walls, ofttimes a longing came, +Looking on rage, and fight, and blood, and death, +To end it all, and dash me down and die; +But no god helped me. Nay, one day I mind +I would entreat them. 'Pray you, lords, be men. +What fatal charm is this which Até gives +To one poor foolish face? Be strong, and turn +In peace, forget this glamour, get you home +With all your fleets and armies, to the land +I love no longer, where your faithful wives +Pine widowed of their lords, and your young boys +Grow wild to manhood. I have nought to give, +No heart, nor prize of love for any man, +Nor recompense. I am the ghost alone +Of the fair girl ye knew; she still abides, +If she still lives and is not wholly dead, +Stretched on a flowery bank upon the sea +In fair heroic Argos. Leave this form +That is no other than the outward shell +Of a once loving woman.' + As I spake, +My pity fired my eyes and flushed my cheek +With some soft charm; and as I spread my hands, +The purple, glancing down a little, left +The marble of my breasts and one pink bud +Upon the gleaming snows. And as I looked +With a mixed pride and terror, I beheld +The brute rise up within them, and my words +Fall barren on them. So I sat apart, +Nor ever more looked forth, while every day +Brought its own woe. + The melancholy years, +The miserable melancholy years, +Crept onward till the midnight terror came, +And by the glare of burning streets I saw +Palace and temple reel in ruin and fall, +And the long-baffled legions, bursting in +By gate and bastion, blunted sword and spear +With unresisted slaughter. From my tower +I saw the good old king; his kindly eyes +In agony, and all his reverend hairs +Dabbled with blood, as the fierce foeman thrust +And stabbed him as he lay; the youths, the girls, +Whom day by day I knew, their silken ease +And royal luxury changed for blood and tears, +Haled forth to death or worse. Then a great hate +Of life and fate seized on me, and I rose +And rushed among them, crying, 'See, 'tis I, +I who have brought this evil! Kill me! kill +The fury that is I, yet is not I! +And let my soul go outward through the wound +Made clean by blood to Hades! Let me die, +Not these who did no wrong!' But not a hand +Was raised, and all shrank backward as afraid, +As from a goddess. Then I swooned and fell +And knew no more, and when I woke I felt +My husband's arms around me, and the wind +Blew fair for Greece, and the beaked galley plunged; +And where the towers of Ilium rose of old, +A pall of smoke above a glare of fire. + + What then in the near future? + Ten long years +Bring youth and love to that deep summer-tide +When the full noisy current of our lives +Creeps dumb through wealth of flowers. I think I knew +Somewhat of peace at last, with my good Lord +Who loved too much, to palter with the past, +Flushed with the present. Young Hermione +Had grown from child to woman. She was wed; +And was not I her mother? At the pomp +Of solemn nuptials and requited love, +I prayed she might be happy, happier far +Than ever I was; so in tranquil ease +I lived a queen long time, and because wealth +And high observance can make sweet our days +When youth's swift joy is past, I did requite +With what I might, not love, the kindly care +Of him I loved not; pomps and robes of price +And chariots held me. But when Fate cut short +His life and love, his sons who were not mine +Reigned in his stead, and hated me and mine: +And knowing I was friendless, I sailed forth +Once more across the sea, seeking for rest +And shelter. Still I knew that in my eyes +Love dwelt, and all the baleful charm of old +Burned as of yore, scarce dimmed as yet by time: +I saw it in the mirror of the sea, +I saw it in the youthful seamen's eyes, +And was half proud again I had such power +Who now kept nothing else. So one calm eve, +Behold, a sweet fair isle blushed like a rose +Upon the summer sea: there my swift ship +Cast anchor, and they told me it was Rhodes. + + There, in a little wood above the sea, +Like that dear wood of yore, I wandered forth +Forlorn, and all my seamen were apart, +And I, alone; when at the close of day +I knew myself surrounded by strange churls +With angry eyes, and one who ordered them, +A woman, whom I knew not, but who walked +In mien and garb a queen. She, with the fire +Of hate within her eyes, 'Quick, bind her, men! +I know her; bind her fast!' Then to the trunk +Of a tall plane they bound me with rude cords +That cut my arms. And meantime, far below, +The sun was gilding fair with dying rays +Isle after isle and purple wastes of sea. + + And then she signed to them, and all withdrew +Among the woods and left us, face to face, +Two women. Ere I spoke, 'I know,' she said, +'I know that evil fairness. This it was, +Or ever he had come across my life, +That made him cold to me, who had my love +And left me half a heart. If all my life +Of wedlock was but half a life, what fiend +Came 'twixt my love and me, but that fair face? +What left his children orphans, but that face? +And me a widow? Fiend! I have thee now; +Thou hast not long to live. I will requite +Thy murders; yet, oh fiend! that art so fair, +Were it not haply better to deface +Thy fatal loveliness, and leave thee bare +Of all thy baleful power? And yet I doubt, +And looking on thy face I doubt the more, +Lest all thy dower of fairness be the gift +Of Aphrodité, and I fear to fight +Against the immortal Gods.' + + Even with the word, +And she relenting, all the riddle of life +Flashed through me, and the inextricable coil +Of Being, and the immeasurable depths +And irony of Fate, burst on my thought +And left me smiling in the eyes of death, +With this deep smile thou seëst. Then with a shriek +The woman leapt on me, and with blind rage +Strangled my life. And when she had done the deed +She swooned, and those her followers hasting back +Fell prone upon their knees before the corpse +As to a goddess. Then one went and brought +A sculptor, and within a jewelled shrine +They set me in white marble, bound to a tree +Of marble. And they came and knelt to me, +Young men and maidens, through the secular years, +While the old gods bore sway, but I was here, +And now they kneel no longer, for the world +Has gone from beauty. + But I think, indeed, +They well might worship still, for never yet +Was any thought or thing of beauty born +Except with suffering. That poor wretch who thought +I injured her, stealing the foolish heart +Which she prized but I could not, what knew she +Of that I suffered? She had loved her love, +Though unrequited, and had borne to him +Children who loved her. What if she had been +Loved yet unloving: all the fire of love +Burnt out before love's time in one brief blaze +Of passion. Ah, poor fool! I pity her, +Being blest and yet unthankful, and forgive, +Now that she is a ghost as I, the hand +Which loosed my load of life. For scarce indeed +Could any god who cares for mortal men +Have ever kept me happy. I had tired +Of simple loving, doubtless, as I tired +Of splendour and being loved. There be some souls +For which love is enough, content to bear +From youth to age, from chesnut locks to gray, +The load of common, uneventful life +And penury. But I was not of these; +I know not now, if it were best indeed +That I had reared my simple shepherd brood, +And lived and died unknown in some poor hut +Among the Argive hills; or lived a queen +As I did, knowing every day that dawned +Some high emprise and glorious, and in death +To fill the world with song. Not the same meed +The gods mete out for all, or She, the dread +Necessity, who rules both gods and men, +Some to dishonour, some to honour moulds, +To happiness some, some to unhappiness. +We are what Zeus has made us, discords playing +In the great music, but the harmony +Is sweeter for them, and the great spheres ring +In one accordant hymn. + But thou, if e'er +There come a daughter of thy love, oh pray +To all thy gods, lest haply they should mar +Her life with too great beauty!" + So she ceased. +The fairest woman that the poet's dream +Or artist hand has fashioned. All the gloom +Seemed lightened round her, and I heard the sound +Of her melodious voice when all was still, +And the dim twilight took her. + + + + + Next there came +Two who together walked: one with a lyre +Of gold, which gave no sound; the other hung +Upon his breast, and closely clung to him, +Spent in a tender longing. As they came, +I heard her gentle voice recounting o'er +Some ancient tale, and these the words she said: + + "Dear voice and lyre now silent, which I heard +Across yon sullen river, bringing to me +All my old life, and he, the ferryman, +Heard and obeyed, and the grim monster heard +And fawned on you. Joyous thou cam'st and free +Like a white sunbeam from the dear bright earth, +Where suns shone clear, and moons beamed bright, and streams +Laughed with a rippling music,--nor as here +The dumb stream stole, the veiled sky slept, the fields +Were lost in twilight. Like a morning breeze, +Which blows in summer from the gates of dawn +Across the fields of spice, and wakes to life +Their slumbering perfume, through this silent land +Of whispering voices and of half-closed eyes, +Where scarce a footstep sounds, nor any strain +Of earthly song, thou cam'st; and suddenly +The pale cheeks flushed a little, the murmured words +Rose to a faint, thin treble; the throng of ghosts +Pacing along the sunless ways and still, +Felt a new life. Thou camest, dear, and straight +The dull cold river broke in sparkling foam, +The pale and scentless flowers grew perfumed; last +To the dim chamber, where with the sad queen +I sat in gloom, and silently inwove +Dead wreaths of amaranths; thy music came +Laden with life, and I, who seemed to know +Not life's voice only, but my own, rose up, +Along the hollow pathways following +The sound which brought back earth and life and love, +And memory and longing. Yet I went +With half-reluctant footsteps, as of one +Whom passion draws, or some high fantasy, +Despite himself, because some subtle spell, +Part born of dread to cross that sullen stream +And its grim guardians, part of secret shame +Of the young airs and freshness of the earth, +Being that I was, enchained me. + Then at last, +From voice and lyre so high a strain arose +As trembled on the utter verge of being, +And thrilling, poured out life. Thus closelier drawn +I walked with thee, shut in by halcyon sound +And soft environments of harmony, +Beyond the ghostly gates, beyond the dim +Calm fields, where the beetle hummed and the pale owl +Stole noiseless from the copse, and the white blooms +Stretched thin for lack of sun: so fair a light +Born out of consonant sound environed me. +Nor looked I backward, as we seemed to move +To some high goal of thought and life and love, +Like twin birds flying fast with equal wing +Out of the night, to meet the coming sun +Above a sea. But on thy dear fair eyes, +The eyes that well I knew on the old earth, +I looked not, for with still averted gaze +Thou leddest, and I followed; for, indeed, +While that high strain was sounding, I was rapt +In faith and a high courage, driving out +All doubt and discontent and womanish fear, +Nay, even my love itself. But when awhile +It sank a little, or seemed to sink and fall +To lower levels, seeing that use makes blunt +The too accustomed ear, straightway, desire +To look once more on thy recovered eyes +Seized me, and oft I called with piteous voice, +Beseeching thee to turn. But thou long time +Wert even as one unmindful, with grave sign +And waving hand, denying. Finally, +When now we neared the stream, on whose far shore +Lay life, great terror took me, and I shrieked +Thy name, as in despair. Then thou, as one +Who knows him set in some great jeopardy, +A swift death fronting him on either hand, +Didst slowly turning gaze; and lo! I saw +Thine eyes grown awful, life that looked on death, +Clear purity on dark and cankered sin, +The immortal on corruption,--not the eyes +That erst I knew in life, but dreadfuller, +And stranger. As I looked, I seemed to swoon, +Some blind force whirled me back, and when I woke +I saw thee vanish in the middle stream, +A speck on the dull waters, taking with thee +My life, and leaving Love with me. But I +Not for myself bewail, but all for thee, +Who, but for me, wert now among the stars +With thy great Lord; I sitting at thy feet: +But now the fierce and unrestrainèd rout +Of passions woman-natured, finding thee +Scornful of love within thy lonely cell, +With blind rage falling on thee, tore thy limbs, +And left them to the Muses' sepulture, +While thy soul dwells in Hades. But I wail +My weakness always, who for Love destroyed +The life that was my Love. I prithee, dear, +Forgive me if thou canst, who hast lost heaven +To save a loving woman." + He with voice +Sweeter than any mortal melody, +And plaintive as the music that is made +By the Æolian strings, or the sad bird +That sings of summer nights: + "Eurydice, +Dear love, be comforted; not once alone +That which thou mournest is, but day by day +Some lonely soul, which walks apart and feeds +On high hill pastures, far from herds of men, +Comes to the low fat fields, and sunny vales +Joyous with fruits and flowers, and the white arms +Of laughing love; and there awhile he stays +Content, forgetting all the joys he knew, +When first the morning broke upon the hills, +And the keen air breathed from the Eastern gates +Like a pure draught of wine; forgetting all +The strains which float, as from a nearer heaven, +To him who treads at dawn the untrodden snows, +While all the warm world sleeps;--forgetting these +And all things that have been. And if he gain +To raise to his own heights the simpler souls +That dwell upon the plains, the untutored thought, +The museless lives, the unawakened brain +That yet might soar, then is he blest indeed. +But if he fail, then, leaving love behind, +The wider love of the race, the closer love +Of some congenial soul, he turns again +To the old difficult steeps, and there alone +Pines, till the widowed passions of his heart +Tear him and rend his soul, and drive him down +To the low plains he left. And there he dwells, +Missing the heavens, dear, and the white peaks, +And the light air of old; but in their stead +Finding the soft sweet sun of the vale, the clouds +Which veil the skies indeed, but give the rains +That feed the streams of life and make earth green, +And bring at last the harvest. So I walk +In this dim land content with thee, O Love, +Untouched by any yearning of regret +For those old days; nor that the lyre which made +Erewhile such potent music now is dumb; +Nor that the voice that once could move the earth +(Zeus speaking through it), speaks in household words +Of homely love: Love is enough for me +With thee, O dearest; and perchance at last, +Zeus willing, this dumb lyre and whispered voice +Shall wake, by Love inspired, to such clear note +As soars above the stars, and swelling, lifts +Our souls to highest heaven." + Then he stooped, +And, folded in one long embrace, they went +And faded. And I cried, "Oh, strong God, Love, +Mightier than Death and Hell!" + + + And then I chanced +On a fair woman, whose sad eyes were full +Of a fixed self-reproach, like his who knows +Himself the fountain of his grief, and pines +In self-inflicted sorrow. As I spake +Enquiring of her grief, she answered thus: + + "Stranger, thou seest of all the shades below +The most unhappy. Others sought their love +In death, and found it, dying; but for me +The death that took me, took from me my love, +And left me comfortless. No load I bear +Like those dark wicked women, who have slain +Their Lords for lust or anger, whom the dread +Propitious Ones within the pit below +Punish and purge of sin; only unfaith, +If haply want of faith be not a crime +Blacker than murder, when we fail to trust +One worthy of all faith, and folly bring +No harder recompense than comes of scorn +And loathing of itself. + Ah, fool, fool, fool, +Who didst mistrust thy love, who was the best, +And truest, manliest soul with whom the gods +Have ever blest the earth; so brave, so strong, +Fired with such burning hate of powerful ill, +So loving of the race, so swift to raise +The fearless arm and mighty club, and smite +All monstrous growths with ruin--Zeus himself +Showed scarce more mighty--and yet was the while +A very man, not cast in mould too fine +For human love, but ofttimes snared and caught +By womanish wiles, fast held within the net +His passions wove. Oh, it was grand to hear +Of how he went, the champion of his race, +Mighty in war, mighty in love, now bent +To more than human tasks, now lapt in ease, +Now suffering, now enjoying. Strong, vast soul, +Tuned to heroic deeds, and set on high +Above the range of common petty sins-- +Too high to mate with an unequal soul, +Too full of striving for contented days. + + Ah me, how well I do recall the cause +Of all our ills! I was a happy bride +When that dark Até which pursues the steps +Of heroes--innocent blood-guiltiness-- +Drove us to exile, and I joyed to be +His own, and share his pain. To a swift stream +Fleeing we came, where a rough ferryman +Waited, more brute than man. My hero plunged +In those fierce depths and battled with their flow, +And with great labour gained the strand, and bade +The monster row me to him. But with lust +And brutal cunning in his eyes, the thing +Seized me and turned to fly with me, when swift +An arrow hissed from the unerring bow, +Pierced him, and loosed his grasp. Then as his eyes +Grew glazed in death there came in them a gleam +Of what I know was hate, and he said, 'Take +This white robe. It is costly. See, my blood +Has stained it but a little. I did wrong: +I know it, and repent me. If there come +A time when he grows cold--for all the race +Of heroes wander, nor can any love +Fix theirs for long--take it and wrap him in it, +And he shall love again.' Then, from the strange +Deep look within his eyes I shrank in fear, +And left him half in pity, and I went +To meet my Lord, who rose from that fierce stream +Fair as a god. + Ah me, the weary days +We women live, spending our anxious souls, +Consumed with jealous fancies, hungering still +For the belovèd voice and ear and eye, +And hungering all in vain! For life is more +To youthful manhood than to sit at home +Before the hearth to watch the children's ways +And lead the life of petty household care +Which doth content us women. Day by day +I pined in Trachis for my love, while he, +Now in some warlike exploit busied, now +Fighting some monster, now at some fair court, +Resting awhile till some new enterprise +Called him, returned not. News of treacheries +Avenged, friends succoured, dreadful monsters slain, +Came from him: always triumph, always fame, +And honour, and success, and reverence, +And sometimes, words of love for me who pined +For more than words, and would have gone to him +But that the toils of such high errantry +Asked more than woman's strength. + So the slow years +Vexed me alone in Trachis, set forlorn +In solitude, nor hearing at the gate +The frank and cheering voice, nor on the stair +The heavy tread, nor feeling the strong arm +Around me in the darkling night, when all +My being ran slow. Last, subtle whispers came +Of womanish wiles which kept my Lord from me, +And one who, young and fair, a fresh-blown life +And virgin, younger, fairer far than I +When first he loved me, held him in the toils +Of scarce dissembled love. Not easily +Might I believe this evil, but at last +The oft-repeated malice finding me +Forlorn, and sitting imp-like at my ear, +Possessed me, and the fire of jealous love +Raged through my veins, not turned as yet to hate-- +Too well I loved for that--but breeding in me +Unfaith in him. Love, setting him so high +And self so low, betrayed me, and I prayed, +Constrained to hold him false, the immortal gods +To make him love again. + But still he came not. +And still the maddening rumours worked, and still +'Fair, young, and a king's daughter,' the same words +Smote me and pierced me. Oh, there is no pain +In Hades--nay, nor deepest Hell itself, +Like that of jealous hearts, the torture-pain +Which racked my life so long. + Till one fair morn +There came a joyful message. 'He has come! +And at the shrine upon the promontory, +The fair white shrine upon the purple sea, +He waits to do his solemn sacrifice +To the immortal gods; and with him comes +A young maid beautiful as Dawn.' + Then I, +Mingling despair with love, rapt in deep joy +That he was come, plunged in the depths of hell +That she came too, bethought me of the robe +The Centaur gave me, and the words he spake, +Forgetting the deep hatred in his eyes, +And all but love, and sent a messenger +Bidding him wear it for the sacrifice +To the immortals, knowing not at all +Whom Fate decreed the victim. + Shall my soul +Forget the agonized message which he sent, +Bidding me come? For that accursèd robe, +Stained with the poisonous accursèd blood, +Even in the midmost flush of sacrifice +Clung to him a devouring fire, and ate +The piteous flesh from his dear limbs, and stung +His great soft soul to madness. When I came, +Knowing it was my work, he bent on me, +Wise as a god through suffering and the near +Inevitable Death, so that no word +Of mine was needed, such a tender look +Of mild reproach as smote me. 'Couldst not thou +Trust me, who never loved as I love thee? +What need was there of magical arts to draw +The love that never wavered? I have lived +As he lives who through perilous paths must pass, +And lifelong trials, striving to keep down +The brute within him, born of too much strength +And sloth and vacuous days; by difficult toils, +Labours endured, and hard-fought fights with ill, +Now vanquished, now triumphant; and sometimes, +In intervals of too long labour, finding +His nature grown too strong for him, falls prone +Awhile a helpless prey, then once again +Rises and spurns his chains, and fares anew +Along the perilous ways. Dearest, I would +That thou wert wedded to some knight who stayed +At home within thy gates, and were content +To see thee happy. But for me the fierce +Rude energies of life, the mighty thews, +The god-sent hate of Wrong, these drove me forth +To quench the thirst of battle. See, this maid, +This is the bride I destined for our son +Who grows to manhood. Do thou see to her +When I am dead, for soon I know again +The frenzy comes, and with it ceasing, death. +Go, therefore, ere I harm thee when my strength +Has lost its guidance. Thou wert rich in love, +Be now as rich in faith. Dear, for thy wrong +I do forgive thee.' + When I saw the glare +Of madness fire his eyes, and my ears heard +The groans the torture wrung from his great soul, +I fled with broken heart to the white shrine, +And knelt in prayer, but still my sad ear took +The agony of his cries. + Then I who knew +There was no hope in god or man for me +Who had destroyed my Love, and with him slain +The champion of the suffering race of men, +And knowing that my soul, though innocent +Of blood, was guilty of unfaith and vile +Mistrust, and wrapt in weakness like a cloak, +And made the innocent tool of hate and wrong, +Against all love and good; grown sick and filled +With hatred of myself, rose from my knees, +And went a little space apart, and found +A gnarled tree on the cliff, and with my scarf +Strangling myself, swung lifeless. + But in death +I found him not. For, building a vast pile +Of scented woods on Oeta, as they tell, +My hero with his own hand lighted it, +And when the mighty pyre flamed far and wide +Over all lands and seas, he climbed on it +And laid him down to die; but pitying Zeus, +Before the swift flames reached him, in a cloud +Descending, snatched the strong brave soul to heaven, +And set him mid the stars. + Wherefore am I +Of all the blameless shades within this place +The most unhappy, if of blame, indeed, +I bear no load. For what is Sin itself, +But Error when we miss the road which leads +Up to the gate of heaven? Ignorance! +What if we be the cause of ignorance? +Being blind who might have seen! Yet do I know +But self-inflicted pain, nor stain there is +Upon my soul such as they bear who know +The dreadful scourge with which the stern judge still +Lashes their sins. I am forgiven, I know, +Who loved so much, and one day, if Zeus will, +I shall go free from hence, and join my Lord, +And be with him again." + And straight I seemed, +Passing, to look upon some scarce-spent life, +Which knows to-day the irony of Fate +In self-inflicted pain. + + + + + Together clung +The ghosts whom next I saw, bound three in one +By some invisible bond. A sire of port +God-like as Zeus, to whom on either hand +A tender stripling clung. I knew them well, +As all men know them. One fair youth spake low: +"Father, it does not pain me now, to be +Drawn close to thee, and by a double bond, +With this my brother." And the other: "Nay, +Nor me, O father; but I bless the chain +Which binds our souls in union. If some trace +Of pain still linger, heed it not--'tis past: +Still let us cling to thee." + He with grave eyes +Full of great tenderness, upon his sons +Looked with the father's gaze, that is so far +More sweet, and sad, and tender, than the gaze +Of mothers,--now on this one, now on that, +Regarding them. "Dear sons, whom on the earth +I loved and cherished, it was hard to watch +Your pain; but now 'tis finished, and we stand +For ever, through all future days of time, +Symbols of patient suffering undeserved, +Endured and vanquished. Yet sad memory still +Brings back our time of trial. + For the day +Broke fair when I, the dread Poseidon's priest, +Joyous because the unholy strife was done, +And seeing the blue waters now left free +Of hostile keels--save where upon the verge +Far off the white sails faded--rose at dawn, +And white robed, and in garb of sacrifice, +And with the sacred fillet round my brows, +Stood at the altar; and behind, ye twain, +Decked by your mother's hand with new-cleansed robes, +And with fresh flower-wreathed chaplets on your curls, +Attended, and your clear young voices made +Music that touched your father's eyes with tears, +If not the careless gods. I seem to hear +Those high sweet accents mounting in the hymn +Which rose to all the blessed gods who dwelt +Upon the far Olympus--Zeus, the Lord, +And Sovereign Heré, and the immortal choir +Of Deities, but chiefly to the dread +Poseidon, him who sways the purple sea +As with a sceptre, shaking the fixed earth +With stress of thundering surges. By the shrine +The meek-eyed victim, for the sacrifice, +Stood with his gilded horns. The hymns were done, +And I in act to strike, when all the crowd +Who knelt behind us, with a common fear +Cried, with a cry that well might freeze the blood, +And then, with fearful glances towards the sea, +Fled, leaving us alone--me, the high priest, +And ye, the acolytes; forlorn of men, +Alone, but with our god. + But we stirred not: +We could not flee, who in the solemn act +Of worship, and the ecstasy which comes +To the believer's soul, saw heaven revealed, +The mysteries unveiled, the inner sky +Which meets the enraptured gaze. How should we fear +Who thus were god-encircled! So we stood +While the long ritual spent itself, nor cast +An eye upon the sea. Till as I came +To that great act which offers up a life +Before life's Lord, and the full mystery +Was trembling to completion, quick I heard +A stifled cry of agony, and knew +My children's voices. And the father's heart, +Which is far more than rite or service done +By man for god, seeing that it is divine +And comes from God to men--this rising in me, +Constrained me, and I ceased my prayer, and turned +To succour you, and lo! the awful coils +Which crushed your lives already, bound me round +And crushed me also, as you clung to me, +In common death. Some god had heard the prayer, +And lo! we were ourselves the sacrifice-- +The priest, the victim, the accepted life, +The blood, the pain, the salutary loss. + + Was it not better thus to cease and die +Together in one blest moment, mid the flush +And ecstasy of worship, and to know +Ourselves the victims? They were wrong who taught +That 'twas some jealous goddess who destroyed +Our lives, revengeful for discovered wiles, +Or hateful of our land. Not readily +Should such base passions sway the immortal gods; +But rather do I hold it sooth indeed +That Zeus himself it was, who pitying +The ruin he foreknew, yet might not stay, +Since mightier Fate decreed it, sent in haste +Those dreadful messengers, and bade them take +The pious lives he loved, before the din +Of midnight slaughter woke, and the fair town +Flamed pitifully to the skies, and all +Was blood and ruin. Surely it was best +To die as we did, and in death to live, +A vision for all ages of high pain +Which passes into beauty, and is merged +In one accordant whole, as discords merge +In that great Harmony which ceaseless rings +From the tense chords of life, than to have lived +Our separate lives, and died our separate deaths, +And left no greater mark than drops which rain +Upon the unbounded sea. Those hosts which fell +Before the Scæan gate upon the sand, +Nor found a bard to sing their fate, but left +Their bones to dogs and kites--were they more blest +Than we who, in the people's sight before +Ilium's unshattered towers, lay down to die +Our swift miraculous death? Dear sons, and good, +Dear children of my love, how doubly dear +For this our common sorrow; suffering weaves +Not only chains of darkness round, but binds +A golden glittering link, which though withdrawn +Or felt no longer, knits us soul to soul, +In indissoluble bonds, and draws our lives +So close, that though the individual life +Be merged, there springs a common life which grows +To such dread beauty, as has power to take +The sting from sorrow, and transform the pain +Into transcendent joy: as from the storm +The unearthly rainbow draws its myriad hues +And steeps the world in fairness. All our lives +Are notes that fade and sink, and so are merged +In the full harmony of Being. Dear sons, +Cling closer to me. Life nor Death has torn +Our lives asunder, as for some, but drawn +Their separate strands together in a knot +Closer than Life itself, stronger than Death, +Insoluble as Fate." + Then they three clung +Together--the strong father and young sons, +And in their loving eyes I saw the Pain +Fade into Joy, Suffering in Beauty lost, +And Death in Love! + + + + + By a still sullen pool, +Into its dark depths gazing, lay the ghost +Whom next I passed. In form, a lovely youth, +Scarce passed from boyhood. Golden curls were his, +And wide blue eyes. The semblance of a smile +Came on his lip--a girl's but for the down +Which hardly shaded it; but the pale cheek +Was soft as any maiden's, and his robe +Was virginal, and at his breast he bore +The perfumed amber cup which, when March comes +Gems the dry woods and windy wolds, and speaks +The resurrection. + Looking up, he said: +"Methought I saw her then, my love, my fair, +My beauty, my ideal; the dim clouds +Lifted, methought, a little--or was it +Fond Fancy only? For I know that here +No sunbeam cleaves the twilight, but a mist +Creeps over all the sky and fields and pools, +And blots them; and I know I seek in vain +My earth-sought beauty, nor can Fancy bring +An answer to my thought from these blind depths +And unawakened skies. Yet has use made +The quest so precious, that I keep it here, +Well knowing it is vain. + On the old earth +'Twas otherwise, when in fair Thessaly +I walked regardless of all nymphs who sought +My love, but sought in vain, whether it were +Dryad or Naiad from the woods or streams, +Or white-robed Oread fleeting on the side +Of fair Olympus, echoing back my sighs, +In vain, for through the mountains day by day +I wandered, and along the foaming brooks, +And by the pine-woods dry, and never took +A thought for love, nor ever 'mid the throng +Of loving nymphs who knew me beautiful +I dallied, unregarding; till they said +Some died for love of me, who loved not one. +And yet I cared not, wandering still alone +Amid the mountains by the scented pines. + + Till one fair day, when all the hills were still, +Nor any breeze made murmur through the boughs, +Nor cloud was on the heavens, I wandered slow, +Leaving the nymphs who fain with dance and song +Had kept me 'midst the glades, and strayed away +Among the pines, enwrapt in fantasy, +And by the beechen dells which clothe the feet +Of fair Olympus, wrapt in fantasy, +Weaving the thin and unembodied shapes +Which Fancy loves to body forth, and leave +In marble or in song; and so strayed down +To a low sheltered vale above the plains, +Where the lush grass grew thick, and the stream stayed +Its garrulous tongue; and last upon the bank +Of a still pool I came, where was no flow +Of water, but the depths were clear as air, +And nothing but the silvery gleaming side +Of tiny fishes stirred. There lay I down +Upon the flowery bank, and scanned the deep, +Half in a waking dream. + Then swift there rose, +From those enchanted depths, a face more fair +Than ever I had dreamt of, and I knew +My sweet long-sought ideal: the thick curls, +Like these, were golden, and the white robe showed +Like this; but for the wondrous eyes and lips, +The tender loving glance, the sunny smile +Upon the rosy mouth, these knew I not, +Not even in dreams; and yet I seemed to trace +Myself within them too, as who should find +His former self expunged, and him transformed +To some high thin ideal, separate +From what he was, by some invisible bar, +And yet the same in difference. As I moved +My arms to clasp her to me, lo! she moved +Her eager arms to mine, smiled to my smile, +Looked love to love, and answered longing eyes +With longing. When my full heart burst in words, +'Dearest, I love thee,' lo! the lovely lips, +'Dearest, I love thee,' sighed, and through the air +The love-lorn echo rang. But when I longed +To answer kiss with kiss, and stooped my lips +To her sweet lips in that long thrill which strains +Soul unto soul, the cold lymph came between +And chilled our love, and kept us separate souls +Which fain would mingle, and the self-same heaven +Rose, a blue vault above us, and no shade +Of earthly thing obscured us, as we lay +Two reflex souls, one and yet different, +Two sundered souls longing to be at one. + +There, all day long, until the light was gone +And took my love away, I lay and loved +The image, and when night was come, 'Farewell,' +I whispered, and she whispered back, 'Farewell,' +With oh, such yearning! Many a day we spent +By that clear pool together all day long. +And many a clouded hour on the wet grass +I lay beneath the rain, and saw her not, +And sickened for her; and sometimes the pool +Was thick with flood, and hid her; and sometimes +Some cold wind ruffled those clear wells, and left +But glimpses of her, and I rose at eve +Unsatisfied, a cold chill in my limbs +And fever at my heart: until, too soon! +The summer faded, and the skies were hid, +And my love came not, but a quenchless thirst +Wasted my life. And all the winter long +The bright sun shone not, or the thick ribbed ice +Obscured her, and I pined for her, and knew +My life ebb from me, till I grew too weak +To seek her, fearing I should see no more +My dear. And so the long dead winter waned +And the slow spring came back. + And one blithe day, +When life was in the woods, and the birds sang, +And soft airs fanned the hills, I knew again +Some gleam of hope within me, and again +With feeble limbs crawled forth, and felt the spring +Blossom within me; and the flower-starred glades, +The bursting trees, the building nests, the songs, +The hurry of life revived me; and I crept, +Ghost-like, amid the joy, until I flung +My panting frame, and weary nerveless limbs, +Down by the cold still pool. + And lo! I saw +My love once more, not beauteous as of old, +But oh, how changed! the fair young cheek grown pale, +The great eyes, larger than of yore, gaze forth +With a sad yearning look; and a great pain +And pity took me which were more than love, +And with a loud and wailing voice I cried, +'Dearest, I come again. I pine for thee,' +And swift she answered back, 'I pine for thee;' +'Come to me, oh, my own,' I cried, and she-- +'Come to me, oh, my own.' Then with a cry +Of love I joined myself to her, and plunged +Beneath the icy surface with a kiss, +And fainted, and am here. + And now, indeed, +I know not if it was myself I sought, +As some tell, or another. For I hold +That what we seek is but our other self, +Other and higher, neither wholly like +Nor wholly different, the half-life the gods +Retained when half was given--one the man +And one the woman; and I longed to round +The imperfect essence by its complement, +For only thus the perfect life stands forth +Whole, self-sufficing. Worse it is to live +Ill-mated than imperfect, and to move +From a false centre, not a perfect sphere, +But with a crooked bias sent oblique +Athwart life's furrows. 'Twas myself, indeed, +Thus only that I sought, that lovers use +To see in that they love, not that which is, +But that their fancy feigns, and view themselves +Reflected in their love, yet glorified, +And finer and more pure. + Wherefore it is: +All love which finds its own ideal mate +Is happy--happy that which gives itself +Unto itself, and keeps, through long calm years, +The tranquil image in its eyes, and knows +Fulfilment and is blest, and day by day +Wears love like a white flower, nor holds it less +Though sharp winds bite, or hot suns fade, or age +Sully its perfect whiteness, but inhales +Its fragrance, and is glad. But happier still +He who long seeks a high goal unattained, +And wearies for it all his days, nor knows +Possession sate his thirst, but still pursues +The fleeting loveliness--now seen, now lost, +But evermore grown fairer, till at last +He stretches forth his arms and takes the fair +In one long rapture, and its name is Death." + + Thus he; and seeing me stand grave: "Farewell. +If ever thou shouldst happen on a wood +In Thessaly, upon the plain-ward spurs +Of fair Olympus, take the path which winds +Through the close vale, and thou shalt see the pool +Where once I found my life. And if in Spring +Thou go there, round the margin thou shalt know +These amber blooms bend meekly, smiling down +Upon the crystal surface. Pluck them not. +But kneel a little while, and breathe a prayer +To the fair god of Love, and let them be. +For in those tender flowers is hid the life +That once was mine. All things are bound in one +In earth and heaven, nor is there any gulf +'Twixt things that live,--the flower that was a life, +The life that is a flower,--but one sure chain +Binds all, as now I know. + If there are still +Fair Oreads on the hills, say to them, sir, +They must no longer pine for me, but find +Some worthier lover, who can love again; +For I have found my love." + And to the pool +He turned, and gazed with lovely eyes, and showed +Fair as an angel. + + + + + Leaving him enwrapt +In musings, to a gloomy pass I came +Between dark rocks, where scarce a gleam of light, +Not even the niggard light of that dim land, +Might enter; and the soil was black and bare, +Nor even the thin growths which scarcely clothed +The higher fields might live. Hard by a cave +Which sloped down steeply to the lowest depths, +Whence dreadful sounds ascended, seated still, +Her head upon her hands, I saw a maid +With eyes fixed on the ground--not Tartarus +It was, but Hades; and she knew no pain, +Except her painful thought. Yet there it seemed, +As here, the unequal measure which awaits +The adjustment, and meanwhile, inspires the strife +Which rears life's palace walls; and fills the sail +Which bears our bark across unfathomed seas, +To its last harbour; this bore sway there too, +And 'twas a luckless shade which sat and wept +Amid the gloom, though blameless. Suddenly, +She raised her head, and lo! the long curls, writhed +Tangled, and snake-like--as the dripping hair +Of a dead girl who freed from life and shame, +From out the cruel wintry flow, is laid +Stark on the snow with dreadful staring eyes +Like hers. For when she raised her eyes to mine, +They chilled my blood, so great a woe they bore; +And as she gazed, wide-eyed, I knew my pulse +Beat slow, and my limbs stiffen. Then they wore, +At length, a softer look, and life revived +Within my breast as thus she softly spoke: + + "Nay, friend, I would not harm thee. I have known +Great sorrow, and sometimes it racks me still, +And turns me into stone, and makes my eyes +As dreadful as of yore; and yet it comes +But seldom, as thou sawest, now, for Time +And Death have healing hands. Only I love +To sit within the darkness here, nor face +The throng of happier ghosts; if any ghost +Of happiness come here. For on the earth +They wronged me bitterly, and turned to stone +My heart, till scarce I knew if e'er I was +The happy girl of yore. + That youth who dreams +Up yonder by the margin of the lake, +Knew but a cold ideal love, but me +Love in unearthly guise, but bodily form, +Seized and betrayed. + I was a priestess once, +Of stern Athené, doing day by day +Due worship; raising, every dawn that came, +My cold pure hymns to take her virgin ear; +Nor sporting with the joyous company +Of youths and maids, who at the neighbouring shrine +Of Aphrodité served. Nor dance nor song +Allured me, nor the pleasant days of youth +And twilights 'mid the vines. They held me cold +Who were my friends in childhood. For my soul +Was virginal, and at the virgin shrine +I knelt, athirst for knowledge. Day by day +The long cold ritual sped, the liturgies +Were done, the barren hymns of praise went up +Before the goddess, and the ecstasy +Of faith possessed me wholly, till almost +I knew not I was woman. Yet I knew +That I was fair to see, and fit to share +Some natural honest love, and bear the load +Of children like the rest; only my soul +Was lost in higher yearnings. + Like a god, +He burst upon those pallid lifeless days, +Bringing fresh airs and salt, as from the sea, +And wrecked my life. How should a virgin know +Deceit, who never at the joyous shrine +Of Cypris knelt, but ever lived apart, +And so grew guilty? For if I had spent +My days among the throng, either my fault +Were blameless, or undone. For innocence +The tempter spreads his net. For innocence +The gods keep all their terrors. Innocence +It is that bears the burden, which for guilt +Is lightened, and the spoiler goes his way, +Uncaring, joyous, leaving her alone, +The victim and unfriended. + Was it just +In her, my mistress, who had had my youth, +To wreak such vengeance on me? I had erred, +It may be; but on him, whose was the guilt, +No heaven-sent vengeance lighted, but he sped +Away to other hearts across the deep, +Careless and free; but me, the cold stern eyes +Of the pure goddess withered; and the scorn +Of maids, despised before, and the great blank +Of love, whose love was gone--this wrung my heart, +And froze my blood; set on my brow despair, +And turned my gaze to stone, and filled my eyes +With horror, and stiffened the soft curls which once +Lay smooth and fair into such snake-like rings +As made my aspect fearful. All who saw, +Shrank from me and grew cold, and felt the warm, +Full tide of life freeze in them, seeing in me +Love's work, who sat wrapt up and lost in shame, +As in a cloak, consuming my own heart, +And was in hell already. As they gazed +Upon me, my despair looked forth so cold +From out my eyes, that if some spoiler came +Fresh from his wickedness, and looked on them, +Their glare would strike him dead; and those fair curls +Which once the accursèd toyed with, grew to be +The poisonous things thou seest; and so, with hate +Of man's injustice and the gods', who knew +Me blameless, and yet punished me; and sick +Of life and love, and loathing earth and sky, +And feeding on my sorrow, Hate at last +Left me a Fury. + Ah, the load of life +Which lives for hatred! We are made to love-- +We women, and the injury which turns +The honey of our lives to gall, transforms +The angel to the fiend. For it is sweet +To know the dreadful sense of strength, and smite +And leave the tyrant dead with a glance; ay! sweet, +In that fierce lust of power, to slay the life +Which harmed not, when the suppliants' cry ascends +To ears which hate has deafened. So I lived +Long time in misery; to my sleepless eyes +No healing slumbers coming; but at length, +Zeus and the goddess pitying, I knew +Soft rest once more veiling my dreadful gaze +In peaceful slumbers. Then a blessed dream +I dreamt. For, lo! a god-like knight in mail +Of gold, who sheared with his keen flashing blade; +With scarce a pang of pain, the visage cold +Which too great sorrow left me; at one stroke +Clean from the trunk, and then o'er land and sea, +Invisible, sped with winged heels, to where, +Upon a sea-worn cape, a fair young maid, +More blameless even than I was, chained and bound, +Waited a monster from the deep and stood +In innocent nakedness. Then, as he rose, +Loathsome, from out the depths, a monstrous growth, +A creature wholly serpent, partly man, +The wrongs that I had known, stronger than death, +Rose up with such black hate in me again, +And wreathed such hissing poison through my hair, +And shot such deadly glances from my eyes, +That nought that saw might live. And the vile worm +Was slain, and she delivered. Then I dreamt +My mistress, whom I thought so stern to me, +Athené, set those dreadful staring eyes, +And that despairing visage, on her shield +Of chastity, and bears it evermore +To fright the waverer from the wrong he would, +And strike the unrepenting spoiler, dead." + + Then for a little paused she, while I saw +Again her eyes grown dreadful, till once more, +And with a softer glance: + "From that blest dream +I woke not on the earth, but only here. +And now my pain is lightened since I know +My dream, which was a dream within the dream +Which is our life, fulfilled. And I have saved +Another through my suffering, and through her +A people. Oh, strange chain of sacrifice, +That binds an innocent life, and from its blood +And sorrow works out joy! Oh, mystery +Of pain and evil! wrong grown salutary, +And mighty to redeem! If thou shouldst see +A woman on the earth, who pays to-day +Like penalty of sin, and the new gods +(For after Saturn, Zeus ruled; after him +It may be there are others) love to take +The tender heart of girlhood, and to immure +Within a cold and cloistered cell the life +Which nature meant to bless, and if Love come +Hold her accursèd; or to some poor maid, +Forlorn and trusting, still the tempter comes +And works his wrong, and leaves her in despair +And shame and all abhorrence, while he goes +His way unpunished,--if thou know her eyes +Freeze thee like mine--oh! bid her lose her pain +In succouring others--say to her that Time +And Death have healing hands, and here there comes +To the forgiven transgressor only pain +Enough to chasten joy!" + And a soft tear +Trembled within her eyes, and her sweet gaze +Was as the Magdalen's, the horror gone +And a great radiance come. + + + + + Then as I passed +To upper air, I saw two figures rise +Together, one a woman with a grave +Fair face not all unhappy, and the robes +And presence of a queen; and with her walked +The fairest youth that ever maiden's dream +Conceived. And as they came, the throng of ghosts, +For these who were not wholly ghosts, arose, +And did them homage. Not the chain of love +Bound them, but such calm kinship as is bred +Of long and difficult pilgrimages borne +Through common perils by two souls which share +A common weary exile. Nor as ghosts +These showed, but rather like two lives which hung +Suspended in a trance. A halo of life +Played round them, and they brought a sweet brisk air +Tasting of earth and heaven, like sojourners +Who stayed but for awhile, and knew a swift +Release await them. First the youth it was +Who spake thus as they passed: + "Dread Queen, once more +I feel life stir within me, and my blood +Run faster, while a new strange cycle turns +And grows completed. Soon on the dear earth +Under the lively light of fuller day, +I shall revive me of my wound; and thou, +Passing with me yon cold and lifeless stream, +And the grim monster who will fawn on thee, +Shalt issue in royal pomp, and wreathed with flowers, +Upon the cheerful earth, leaving behind +A deeper winter for the ghosts who dwell +Within these sunless haunts; and I shall lie +Once more within loved arms, and thou shalt see +Thy early home, and kiss thy mother's cheek, +And be a girl again. But not for long; +For ere the bounteous Autumn spreads her hues +Of gold and purple, a cold voice will call +And bring us to these wintry lands once more, +As erst so often. Blest are we, indeed, +Above the rest, and yet I would I knew +The careless joys of old. + For in hot youth, +Oh, it was sweet to greet the balmy night +That was love's nurse, and feel the weary eyes +Closed by soft kisses,--sweet at early dawn +To wake refreshed and, scarce from loving arms +Leaping, to issue forth, with winding horn, +By dewy heath and brake, and taste the fair +Young breath of early morning; and 'twas sweet +To chase the bounding quarry all day long +With my true hounds and rapid steed, and gay +Companions of my youth, and with the eve +To turn home laden with the spoil, and take +The banquet which awaited, and sweet wine +Poured out, and kisses pressed on loving lips; +Circled by snowy arms. Oh, it was sweet +To be alive and young! + For sure it is +The gods gave not quick pulses and hot blood +And strength and beauty for no end, but would +That we should use them wisely; and the fair, +Sweet mistress of my service was, indeed, +Worthy of all observance. Oh, her eyes +When I lay bleeding! All day long we rode, +I and my youthful peers, with horse and hound, +And knew the joy of swift pursuit and toil +And peril. At the last, a fierce boar turned +At bay, and with his gleaming tusks o'erthrew +My steed, and as I fell upon the flowers, +Pierced me as with a sword. Then, as I lay, +I knew the strange slow chill which, stealing, tells +The young that it is death. Yet knew I not +Of pain or fear, only great pity, indeed, +That she should lose her love, who was so fond +And gracious. But when, lifting my dim gaze, +I saw her bend o'er me,--the lovely eyes +Suffused with tears, and her sweet smile replaced +By agonized sorrow,--for a while I stayed +Life's ebbing tide, and raised my cold, white lips, +With a faint smile, to hers. Then, with a kiss-- +One long last kiss, we mingled, and I knew +No more. + But even in death, so strong is Love, +I could not wholly die; and year by year, +When the bright springtime comes, and the earth lives, +Love opens these dread gates, and calls me forth +Across the gulf. Not here, indeed, she comes, +Being a goddess and in heaven, but smooths +My path to the old earth, where still I know +Once more the sweet lost days, and once again +Blossom on that soft breast, and am again +A youth, and rapt in love; and yet not all +As careless as of yore; but seem to know +The early spring of passion, tamed by time +And suffering, to a calmer, fuller flow, +Less fitful, but more strong." + Then the sad Queen +"Fair youth, thy lot I know, for I am old +As the old earth and yet as young as is +The budding spring, and I was here a Queen, +When Love was not or Time, and to my arms +Thou camest as a little child, to dwell +Within the halls of Death, for without Death +There were nor Birth nor Love, nor would Life yearn +To lose itself within another life, +And dying, to be born. I, too, have died +For love in part, and live again through love; +For in the far-off years, when Time was young, +And Love unborn on earth, and Zeus in heaven +Ruled, a young sovereign; I, a maiden, dwelt +With dread Demeter on the lovely plains +Of sunny Sicily. There, day by day, +I sported with the maiden goddesses, +In virgin freedom. Budding age made gay +Our lightsome feet, and on the flowery slopes +We wandered daily, gathering flowers to weave +In careless garlands for our locks, and passed +The days in innocent gladness. Thought of Love +There came not to us, for as yet the earth +Was virginal, nor yet had Eros come +With his delicious pain. + And one fair morn-- +Not all the ages blot it--on the side +Of Ætna we were straying. There was then +Summer nor winter, springtide nor the time +Of harvest, but the soft unfailing sun +Shone always, and the sowing time was one +With reaping; fruit and flower together sprung +Upon the trees; and blade and ripened ear +Together clothed the plains. There, as I strayed, +Sudden a black cloud down the rugged side +Of Ætna, mixed with fire and dreadful sound +Of thunder, rolled around me, and I heard +The maids who were my fellows turn and flee +With shrieks and cries for me. + But I, I knew +No terror while the god o'ershadowed me, +Hiding my life in his, nor when I wept +My flowers all withered, and my blood ran slow +Within a wintry land. Some voice there was +Which said, 'Fear not. Thou shalt return and see +Thy mother again, only a little while +Fate wills that thou shouldst tarry, and become +Queen of another world. Thou seest that all +Thy flowers are faded. They shall live again +On earth, as thou shalt, as thou livest now +The Life of Death--for what is Death but Life +Suspended as in sleep? The changeless rule +Where life was constant, and the sun o'erhead, +Blazed forth for ever, changes and is hidden +Awhile. This region which thou seest, where all +The trees are lifeless, and the flowers are dead, +Is but the self-same earth on which erewhile +Thou sportedst fancy free.' + So, without fear +I wandered on this bare land, seeing far +Upon the sky the peaks of my own hills +And crests of my own woods. Till, when I grew +Hungered, ere yet another form I saw; +Along the silent alleys journeying, +And leafless groves; a fair and mystic tree +Rose like a heart in shape, and 'mid its leaves +One golden mystic fruit with a fair seed +Hid in it. This, with childish hand, I took +And ate, and straight I knew the tree was Life, +And the fruit Death, and the hid seed was Love. + + Ah, sweet strange fruit! the which if any taste +They may no longer keep their lives of old +Or their own selves unchanged, but some weird change +And subtle alchemy comes which can transmute +The blood, and mould the spirits of gods and men +In some new magical form. Not as before, +Our life comes to us, though the passion cools, +No, never as before. My mother came +Too late to seek me. She had power to raise +A life from out Death's grasp, but from the arms +Of Love she might not take me, nor undo +Love's past for all her strength. She came and sought +With fires her daughter over land and sea, +Beyond the paths of all the setting stars, +In vain, and over all the earth in vain, +Seeking whom love disguised. Then on all lands +She cast the spell of barrenness; the wheat +Was blighted in the ear, the purple grapes +Blushed no more on the vines, and all the gods +Were sorrowful, seeing the load of ill +My rape had laid on men. Last, Zeus himself, +Pitying the evil that was done, sent forth +His messenger beyond the western rim +To fetch me back to earth. + But not the same +He found me who had eaten of Love's seed, +But changed into another; nor could his power +Prevail to keep me wholly on the earth, +Or make me maid again. The wintry life +Is homelier often than the summer blaze +Of happiness unclouded; so, when Spring +Comes on the world, I, coming, cross with thee, +Year after year, the cruel icy stream; +And leave this anxious sceptre and the shades +Of those in hell, or those for whom, though blest, +No Spring comes, till the last great Spring which brings +New heavens and new earth; and lay my head +Upon my mother's bosom, and grow young, +And am a girl again. + A soft air breathes +Across the stream and fills these barren fields +With the sweet odours of the earth. I know +Again the perfume of the violets +Which bloom on Ætna's side. Soon we shall pass +Together to our home, while round our feet +The crocus flames like gold, the wind-flowers white +Wave their soft petals on the breeze, and all +The choir of flowers lift up their silent song +To the unclouded heavens. Thou, fair boy, +Shalt lie within thy love's white arms again, +And I within my mother's. Sweet is Love +In ceasing and renewal; nay, in these +It lives and has its being. Thou couldst not keep +Thy youth as now, if always on the breast +Of love too late a lingerer thou hadst known +Possession sate thee. Nor might I have kept +My mother's heart, if I had lived to ripe +And wither on the stalk. Time calls and Change +Commands both men and gods, and speeds us on +We know not whither; but the old earth smiles +Spring after Spring, and the seed bursts again +Out of its prison mould, and the dead lives +Renew themselves, and rise aloft and soar +And are transformed, clothing themselves with change +Till the last change be done." + As thus she spake, +I saw a gleam of light flash from the eyes +Of all the listening shades, and a great joy +Thrill through the realms of Death. + + + + + And then again +A youthful shade I saw, a comely boy, +With lip and cheek just touched with manly down, +And strong limbs wearing Spring; in mien and garb +A youthful chieftain, with a perfect face +Of fresh young beauty, clustered curls divine, +And chiselled features like a sculptured god, +But warm and breathing life; only the eyes, +The fair large eyes, were full of dreaming thought, +And seemed to gaze beyond the world of sight, +On a hid world of beauty. Him I stayed, +Accosting with soft words of courtesy; +And, on a bank of scentless flowers reclined, +He answered thus: + "Not for the garish sun +I long, nor for the splendours of high noon +In this dim land I languish; for of yore +Full often, when the swift chase swept along +Through the brisk morn, or when my comrades called +To wrestling, or the foot-race, or to cleave +The sunny stream, I loved to walk apart, +Self-centred, sole; and when the laughing girls +To some fair stripling's oaten melody +Made ready for the dance, I heeded not; +Nor when to the loud trumpet's blast and blare +My peers rode forth to battle. For, one eve, +In Latmos, after a long day in June, +I stayed to rest me on a sylvan hill, +Where often youth and maid were wont to meet +Towards moonrise; and deep slumber fell on me +Musing on Love, just as the ruddy orb +Rose on the lucid night, set in a frame +Of blooming myrtle and sharp tremulous plane; +Deep slumber fell, and loosed my limbs in rest. + + Then, as the full orb poised upon the peak, +There came a lovely vision of a maid, +Who seemed to step as from a golden car +Out of the low-hung moon. No mortal form, +Such as ofttimes of yore I knew and clasped +At twilight 'mid the vines at the mad feast +Of Dionysus, or the fair maids cold +Who streamed in white processions to the shrine +Of the chaste Virgin Goddess; but a shape +Richer and yet more pure. No thinnest veil +Obscured her; but each exquisite limb revealed, +Gleamed like a golden statue subtly wrought +By a great sculptor on the architrave +Of some high temple-front--only in her +The form was soft and warm, and charged with life, +And breathing. As I seemed to gaze on her, +Nearer she drew and gazed; and as I lay +Supine, as in a spell, the radiance stooped +And kissed me on the lips, a chaste, sweet kiss, +Which drew my spirit with it. So I slept +Each night upon the hill, until the dawn +Came in her silver chariot from the East, +And chased my Love away. But ever thus +Dissolved in love as in a heaven-sent dream, +Whenever the bright circle of the moon +Climbed from the hills, whether in leafy June +Or harvest-tide, or when they leapt and pressed +Red-thighed the spouting must, I walked apart +From all, and took no thought for mortal maid, +Nor nimble joys of youth; but night by night +I stole, when all were sleeping, to the hill, +And slumbered and was blest; until I grew +Possest by love so deep, I seemed to live +In slumber only, while the waking day +Showed faint as any vision. + So I turned +Paler and paler with the months, and climbed +The steep with laboured steps and difficult breath, +But still I climbed. Ay, though the wintry frost +Chained fast the streams and whitened all the fields, +I sought my mistress through the leafless groves, +And slumbered and was happy, till the dawn +Returning found me stretched out, cold and stark, +With life's fire nigh burnt out. Till one clear night, +When the birds shivered in the pines, and all +The inner heavens stood open, lo! she came, +Brighter and kinder still, and kissed my eyes +And half-closed lips, and drew my soul through them, +And in one precious ecstasy dissolved +My life. And thenceforth, ever on the hill +I lie unseen of man; a cold, white form, +Still young, through all the ages; but my soul, +Clothed in this thin presentment of old days, +Walks this dim land, where never moonrise comes, +Nor day-break, but a twilight waiting-time, +No more; and, ah! how weary! Yet I judge +My lot a higher far than his who spends +His youth on swift hot pleasure, quickly past; +Or theirs, my equals', who through long calm years +Grew sleek in dull content of wedded lives +And fair-grown offspring. Many a day for them, +While I was wandering here, and my bones bleached +Upon the rocks, the sweet autumnal sun +Beamed, and the grapes grew purple. Many a day +They heaped up gold, they knelt at festivals, +They waxed in high report and fame of men, +They gave their girls in marriage; while for me +Upon the untrodden peaks, the cold, grey morn, +The snows, the rains, the winds, the untempered blaze, +Beat year by year, until I turned to stone, +And the great eagles shrieked at me, and wheeled +Affrighted. Yet I judge it better indeed +To seek in life, as now I know I sought, +Some fair impossible Love, which slays our life, +Some fair ideal raised too high for man; +And failing to grow mad, and cease to be, +Than to decline, as they do who have found +Broad-paunched content and weal and happiness: +And so an end. For one day, as I know, +The high aim unfulfilled fulfils itself; +The deep, unsatisfied thirst is satisfied; +And through this twilight, broken suddenly, +The inmost heaven, the lucent stars of God, +The Moon of Love, the Sun of Life; and I, +I who pine here--I on the Latmian hill +Shall soar aloft and find them." + With the word, +There beamed a shaft of dawn athwart the skies, +And straight the sentinel thrush within the yew +Sang out reveillé to the hosts of day, +Soldierly; and the pomp and rush of life +Began once more, and left me there alone +Amid the awaking world. + + + + + Nay, not alone. +One fair shade lingered in the fuller day, +The last to come, when now my dream had grown +Half mixed with waking thoughts, as grows a dream +In summer mornings when the broader light +Dazzles the sleeper's eyes; and is most fair +Of all and best remembered, and becomes +Part of our waking life, when older dreams +Grow fainter, and are fled. So this remained +The fairest of the visions that I knew, +Most precious and most dear. + The increasing light +Shone through her, finer than the thinnest shade, +And yet most full of beauty; golden wings, +From her fair shoulders springing, seemed to lift +Her stainless feet from the cold ground and snatch +Their wearer into air; and in her eyes +Was such fair glance as comes from virgin love, +Long chastened and triumphant. Every trace +Of earth had vanished from her, and she showed +As one who walks a saint already in life, +Virgin or mother. Immortality +Breathed from those radiant eyes which yet had passed +Between the gates of death. I seemed to hear +The Soul of mortals speaking: + "I was born +Of a great race and mighty, and was grown +Fair, as they said, and good, and kept a life +Pure from all stain of passion. Love I knew not, +Who was absorbed in duty; and the Mother +Of gods and men, seeing my life more calm +Than human, hating my impassive heart, +Sent down her perfect son in wrath to earth, +And bade him break me. + But when Eros came, +It did repent him of the task, for Love +Is kin to Duty. + And within my life +I knew miraculous change, and a soft flame +Wherefrom the snows of Duty flushed to rose, +And the chill icy flow of mind was turned +To a warm stream of passion. Long I lived +Not knowing what had been, nor recognized +A Presence walking with me through my life, +As if by night, his face and form concealed: +A gracious voice alone, which none but I +Might hear, sustained me, and its name was Love. + + Not as the earthly loves which throb and flush +Round earthly shrines was mine, but a pure spirit, +Lovelier than all embodied love, more pure +And wonderful; but never on his eyes +I looked, which still were hidden, and I knew not +The fashion of his nature; for by night, +When visual eyes are blind, but the soul sees, +Came he, and bade me seek not to enquire +Or whence he came or wherefore. Nor knew I +His name. And always ere the coming day, +As if he were the Sun-god, lingering +With some too well-loved maiden, he would rise +And vanish until eve. But all my being +Thrilled with my fair unearthly visitant +To higher duty and more glorious meed +Of action than of old, for it was Love +That came to me, who might not know his name. + + Thus, ever rapt by dreams divine, I knew +The scorn that comes from weaker souls, which miss, +Being too low of nature, the great joy +Revealed to others higher; nay, my sisters, +Who being of one blood with me, made choice +To tread the lower ways of daily life, +Grew jealous of me, bidding me take heed +Lest haply 'twas some monstrous fiend I loved, +Such as in fable ofttimes sought and won +The innocent hearts of maids. Long time I held +My love too dear for doubt, who was so sweet +And lovable. But at the last the sneers, +The mystery which hid him, the swift flight +Before the coming dawn, the shape concealed, +The curious girlish heart, these worked on me +With an unsatisfied thirst. Not his own words: +'Dear, I am with thee only while I keep +My visage hidden; and if thou once shouldst see +My face, I must forsake thee: the high gods +Link Love with Faith, and he withdraws himself +From the full gaze of Knowledge'--not even these +Could cure me of my longing, or the fear +Those mocking voices worked; who fain would learn +The worst that might befall. + And one sad night, +Just as the day leapt from the hills and brought +The hour when he should go: with tremulous hands, +Lighting my midnight lamp in fear, I stood +Long time uncertain, and at length turned round +And gazed upon my love. He lay asleep, +And oh, how fair he was! The flickering light +Fell on the fairest of the gods, stretched out +In happy slumber. Looking on his locks +Of gold, and faultless face and smile, and limbs +Made perfect, a great joy and trembling took me +Who was most blest of women, and in awe +And fear I stooped to kiss him. One warm drop-- +From the full lamp within my trembling hand, +Or a glad tear from my too happy eyes, +Fell on his shoulder. + Then the god unclosed +His lovely eyes, and with great pity spake: +'Farewell! There is no Love except with Faith, +And thine is dead! Farewell! I come no more.' +And straightway from the hills the full red sun +Leapt up, and as I clasped my love again, +The lovely vision faded from his place, +And came no more. + Then I, with breaking heart, +Knowing my life laid waste by my own hand, +Went forth and would have sought to hide my life +Within the stream of Death; but Death came not +To aid me who not yet was meet for Death. + + Then finding that Love came not back to me, +I thought that in the temples of the gods +Haply he dwelt, and so from fane to fane +I wandered over earth, and knelt in each, +Enquiring for my Love; and I would ask +The priests and worshippers, 'Is this Love's shrine? +Sirs, have you seen the god?' But never at all +I found him. For some answered, 'This is called +The Shrine of Knowledge;' and another, 'This, +The Shrine of Beauty;' and another, 'Strength;' +And yet another, 'Youth.' And I would kneel +And say a prayer to my Love, and rise +And seek another. Long, o'er land and sea, +I wandered, till I was not young or fair, +Grown wretched, seeking my lost Love; and last, +Came to the smiling, hateful shrine where ruled +The queen of earthly love and all delight, +Cypris, but knelt not there, but asked of one +Who seemed her priest, if Eros dwelt with her. + + Then to the subtle-smiling goddess' self +They led me. She with hatred in her eyes: +'What! thou to seek for Love, who art grown thin +And pale with watching! He is not for thee. +What Love is left for such? Thou didst despise +Love, and didst dwell apart. Love sits within +The young maid's eyes, making them beautiful. +Love is for youth, and joy, and happiness; +And not for withered lives. Ho! bind her fast. +Take her and set her to the vilest tasks, +And bend her pride by solitude and tears, +Who will not kneel to me, but dares to seek +A disembodied love. My son has gone +And left thee for thy fault, and thou shalt know +The misery of my thralls.' + Then in her house +They bound me to hard tasks and vile, and kept +My life from honour, chained among her slaves +And lowest ministers, taking despite +And injury for food, and set to bind +Their wounds whom she had tortured, and to feed +The pitiful lives which in her prisons pent +Languished in hopeless pain. There is no sight +Of suffering but I saw it, and was set +To succour it; and all my woman's heart +Was torn with the ineffable miseries +Which love and life have worked; and dwelt long time +In groanings and in tears. + And then, oh joy! +Oh miracle! once more at length again +I felt Love's arms around me, and the kiss +Of Love upon my lips, and in the chill +Of deepest prison cells, 'mid vilest tasks, +The glow of his sweet breath, and the warm touch +Of his invisible hand, and his sweet voice, +Ay, sweeter than of old, and tenderer, +Speak to me, pierce me, hold me, fold me round +With arms Divine, till all the sordid earth +Was hued like heaven, and Life's dull prison-house +Turned to a golden palace, and those low tasks +Grew to be higher works and nobler gains +Than any gains of knowledge, and at last +He whispered softly, 'Dear, unclose thine eyes. +Thou mayst look on me now. I go no more, +But am thine own for ever.' + Then with wings +Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes, +Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land, +Scarce for an instant staying till we reached +The inmost courts of heaven. + But sometimes still +I come here for a little, and speak a word +Of peace to those who wait. The slow wheel turns, +The cycles round themselves and grow complete, +The world's year whitens to the harvest-tide, +And one word only am I sent to say +To those dear souls, who wait here, or who now +Breathe earthly air--one universal word +To all things living, and the word is 'Love.'" + + Then soared she visibly before my gaze, +And the heavens took her, and I knew my eyes +Had seen the soul of man, the deathless soul, +Defeated, struggling, purified, and blest. + + + + + Then all the choir of happy waiting shades, +Heroes and queens, fair maidens and brave youths, +Swept by me, rhythmic, slow, as if they trod +Some unheard measure, passing where I stood +In fair procession, each with a faint smile +Upon the lip, signing "Farewell, oh shade! +It shall be well with thee, as 'tis with us, +If only thou art true. The world of Life, +The world of Death, are but opposing sides +Of one great orb, and the Light shines on both. +Oh, happy happy shade! Farewell! Farewell!" +And so they passed away. + + + + + END OF BOOK II. + + + + + BOOK III. + + OLYMPUS. + + + + + But I, my gaze +Following the soaring soul which now was lost +In the awakening skies, floated with her, +As in a trance, beyond the golden gates +Which separate Earth from Heaven; and to my thought +Gladdened by that broad effluence of light, +This old earth seemed transfigured, and the fields, +So dim and bare, grew green and clothed themselves +With lustrous hues. A fine ethereal air +Played round me as I mused, and filled the soul +With an ineffable content. What need +Of words to tell of things unreached by words? +Or seek to engrave upon the treacherous thought +The fair and fugitive fancies of a dream, +Which vanish ere we fix them? + But methinks +He knows the scene, who knows the one fair day, +One only and no more, which year by year +In springtime comes, when lingering winter flies, +And lo! the trees blossom in white and pink. +And golden clusters, and the glades are filled +With delicate primrose and deep odorous beds +Of violets, and on the tufted meads +With kingcups starred, and cowslip bells, and blue +Sweet hyacinths, and frail anemones, +The broad West wind breathes softly, and the air +Is tremulous with the lark, and thro' the woods +The soft full-throated thrushes all day long +Flood the green dells with joy, and thro' the dry +Brown fields the sower strides, sowing his seed, +And all is life and song. Or he who first, +Whether in fair free boyhood, when the world +Is his to choose, or when his fuller life +Beats to another life, or afterwards, +Keeping his youth within his children's eyes, +Looks on the snow-clad everlasting hills, +And marks the sunset smite them, and is glad +Of the beautiful fair world. + A springtide land +It seemed, where East winds came not. Sweetest song +Was everywhere, by glade or sunny plain; +And thro' the golden valleys winding streams +Rippled in glancing silver, and above, +The blue hills rose, and over all a peak, +White, awful, with a constant fleece of cloud +Veiling its summit, towered. Unfailing Day +Lighted it, for no turn of dawn and eve +Came there, nor changing seasons, but a broad +Fixed joy of Being, undisturbed by Time. + + There, in a happy glade shut in by groves +Of laurel and sweet myrtle, on a green +And flower-lit lawn, I seemed to see the ghosts +Of the old gods. Upon the gentle slope +Of a fair hill, a joyous company, +The Immortals lay. Hard by, a murmurous stream +Fell through the flowers; below them, space on space, +Laughed the immeasurable plains; beyond, +The mystic mountain soared. Height after height +Of bare rock ledges left the climbing pines, +And reared their giddy, shining terraces +Into the ethereal air. Above, the snows +Of the white summit cleft the fleece of cloud +Which always clothed it round. + Ah, fail-and sweet, +Yet with a ghostly fairness, fine and thin, +Those godlike Presences. Not dreams indeed, +But something dream-like, were they. Blessed Shades +Heroic and Divine, as when, in days +When Man was young, and Time, the vivid thought +Translated into Form the unattained +Impossible Beauty of men's dreams, and fixed +The Loveliness in marble. + As with awe +Following my spotless guide, I stood apart, +Not daring to draw near; a shining form +Rose from the throng, and floated, light as air, +To where I trembled. And I knew the face +And form of Artemis, the fair, the pure, +The undefiled. A crescent silvery moon +Shone thro' her locks, and by her side she bore +A quiver of golden darts. At sight of whom +I felt a sudden chill, like his who once +Looked upon her and died; yet could not fear, +Seeing how fair she was. Her sweet voice rang +Clear as a bird's: + "Mortal, what fate hath brought +Thee hither, uncleansed by death? How canst thou breathe +Immortal air, being mortal? Yet fear not, +Since thou art come. For we too are of earth +Whom here thou seest: there were not a heaven +Were there no earth, nor gods, had men not been, +But each the complement of each and grown +The other's creature, is and has its being, +A double essence, Human and Divine. +So that the God is hidden in the man, +And something Human bounds and forms the God; +Which else had shown too great and undefined +For mortal sight, and having no human eye +To see it, were unknown. But we who bore +Sway of old time, we were but attributes +[3]Of the great God who is all Things that be-- +The Pillar of the Earth and starry Sky, +The Depth of the great Deep; the Sun, the Moon, +The Word which Makes; the All-compelling Love-- +For all Things lie within His Infinite Form." + + Even as she spake, a throng of heavenly forms +Floated around me, filling all my soul +With fair unearthly beauty, and the air +With such ambrosial perfume as is born. +When morning bursts upon a tropic sea, +From boundless wastes of flowers; and as I knelt +In rapture, lo! the same clear voice again +From out the throng of gods: + "Those whom thou seest +Were even as I, embodiments of Him +Who is the Centre of all Life: myself +The Maiden-Queen of Purity; and Strength, +Divine when unabused; Love too, the Spring +And Cause of Things; and Knowledge, which lays bare +Their secret; and calm Duty, Queen of all, +And Motherhood in one; and Youth, which bears, +Beauty of Form and Life and Light, and breathes +The breath of Inspiration; and the Soul, +The particle of God, sent down to man, +Which doth in turn reveal the world and God. + + Wherefore it is men called on Artemis, +The refuge of young souls; for still in age +They keep some dim reflection uneffaced +Of a Diviner Purity than comes +To the spring days of youth, when all the world +Smiles, and the rapid blood thro' the young veins +Courses, and all is glad; yet knowing too +That innocence is young--before the soil +And smirch of sadder knowledge, settling on it, +Sully its primal whiteness. So they knelt +At my white shrines, the eager vigorous youths, +To whom life's road showed like a dewy field +In early summer dawns, when to the sound +Of youth's clear voice, and to the cheerful rush +Of the tumultuous feet and clamorous tongues +Careering onwards, fair and dappled fawns, +Strange birds with jewelled plumes, fierce spotted pards, +Rise in the joyous chase, to be caught and bound +By the young conqueror; nor yet the charm +Of sensual ease allures. And they knelt too, +The pure sweet maidens fair and fancy-free, +Whose innocent virgin hearts shrank from the touch +Of passion as from wrong--sweet moonlit lives +Which fade, and pale, and vanish, in the glare +Of Love's hot noontide: these came robed in white, +With holy hymns and soaring liturgies: +And so men fabled me, a huntress now, +Borne thro' the flying woodlands, fair and free; +And now the pale cold Moon, Light without warmth, +Zeal without touch of passion, heavenly love +For human, and the altar for the home. + + But oh, how sweet it was to take the love +And awe of my young worshippers; to watch +The pure young gaze and hear the pure young voice +Mount in the hymn, or see the gay troop come +With the first dawn of day, brushing the dew +From the unpolluted fields, and wake to song +The slumbering birds; strong in their innocence! +I did not envy any goddess of all +The Olympian company her votaries! +Ah, happy days of old which now are gone! +A memory and a dream! for now on earth +I rule no longer o'er young willing hearts +In voluntary fealty, which should cease +When Love, with fiery accents calling, woke +The slumbering soul; as now it should for those +Who kneel before the purer, sadder shrine +Which has replaced my own. But ah! too oft, +Not always, but too often, shut from life +Within pale life-long cloisters and the bars +Of deadly convent prisons, year by year, +Age after age, the white souls fade and pine +Which simulate the joyous service free +Of those young worshippers. I would that I +Might loose the captives' chain; or Herakles, +Who was a mortal once." + + + + + But he who stood +Colossal at my side: + "I toil no more +On earth, nor wield again the mighty strength +Which Zeus once gave me for the cure of ill. +I have run my race; I have done my work; I rest +For ever from the toilsome days I gave +To the suffering race of men. And yet, indeed, +Methinks they suffer still. Tyrannous growths +And monstrous vex them still. Pestilence lurks +And sweeps them down. Treacheries come, and wars, +And slay them still. Vaulting ambition leaps +And falls in bloodshed still. But I am here +At rest, and no man kneels to me, or keeps +Reverence for strength mighty yet unabused-- +Strength which is Power, God's choicest gift, more rare +And precious than all Beauty, or the charm +Of Wisdom, since it is the instrument +Thro' which all Nature works. For now the earth +Is full of meekness, and a new God rules, +Teaching strange precepts of humility +And mercy and forgiveness. Yet I trow +There is no lack of bloodshed and deceit +And groanings, and the tyrant works his wrong +Even as of old; but now there is no arm +Like mine, made strong by Zeus, to beat him down, +Him and his wrong together. Yet I know +I am not all discrowned. The strong brave souls, +The manly tender hearts, whom tale of wrong +To woman or child, to all weak things and small, +Fires like a blow; calling the righteous flush +Of anger to the brow; knotting the cords +Of muscle on the arm; with one desire +To hew the spoiler down, and make an end, +And go their way for others; making light +Of toil and pain, and too laborious days, +And peril; beat unchanged, albeit they serve +A Lord of meekness. For the world still needs +Its champion as of old, and finds him still. +Not always now with mighty sinews and thews +Like mine, though still these profit, but keen brain +And voice to move men's souls to love the right +And hate the wrong; even tho' the bodily form +Be weak, of giant strength, strong to assail +The hydra heads of Evil, and to slay +The monsters that now waste them: Ignorance, +Self-seeking, coward fears, the hate of Man, +Disguised as love of God. These there are still +With task as hard as mine. For what was it +To strive with bodily ills, and do great deeds +Of daring and of strength, and bear the crown, +To his who wages lifelong, doubtful strife +With an impalpable foe; conquering indeed, +But, ere he hears the pæan or sees the pomp +Laid low in the arms of Death? And tho' men cease +To worship at my shrine, yet not the less +I hold, it is the toils I knew, the pains +I bore for others, which have kept the heart +Of manhood undefiled, and nerved the arm +Of sacrifice, and made the martyr strong +To do and bear, and taught the race of men +How godlike 'tis to suffer thro' life, and die +At last for others' good!" + The strong god ceased, +And stood a little, musing; blest indeed, +But bearing, as it seemed, some faintest trace +Of earthly struggle still, not the gay ease +Of the elder heaven-born gods. + + + + + And then there came +Beauty and Joy in one, bearing the form +Of woman. How to reach with halting words +That infinite Perfection? All have known +The breathing marbles which the Greek has left +Who saw her near, and strove to fix her charms, +And exquisitely failed; or those fair forms +The Painter offered at a later shrine, +And failed. Nay, what are words?--he knows it well +Who loves, or who has loved. + She with a smile +Playing around her rosy lips; as plays +The sunbeam on a stream: + "Shall I complain +Men kneel to me no longer, taking to them +Some graver, sterner worship; grown too wise +For fleeting joys of Love? Nay, Love is Youth, +And still the world is young. Still shall I reign +Within the hearts of men, while Time shall last +And Life renews itself. All Life that is, +From the weak things of earth or sea or air, +Which creep or float for an hour; to godlike man-- +All know me and are mine. I am the source +And mother of all, both gods and men; the spring +Of Force and Joy, which, penetrating all +Within the hidden depths of the Unknown, +Sets the blind seed of Being, and from the bond +Of incomplete and dual Essences +Evolves the harmony which is Life. The world +Were dead without my rays, who am the Light +Which vivifies the world. Nay, but for me, +The universal order which attracts +Sphere unto sphere, and keeps them in their paths +For ever, were no more. All things are bound +Within my golden chain, whose name is Love. + + And if there be, indeed, some sterner souls +Or sunk in too much learning, or hedged round +By care and greed, or haply too much rapt +By pale ascetic fervours, to delight +To kneel to me, the universal voice +Scorns them as those who, missing willingly +The good that Nature offers, dwell unblest +Who might be blest, but would not. Every voice +Of bard in every age has hymned me. All +The breathing marbles, all the heavenly hues +Of painting, praise me. Even the loveless shades +Of dim monastic cloisters show some gleam, +Tho' faint, of me. Amid the busy throngs +Of cities reign I, and o'er lonely plains, +Beyond the ice-fields of the frozen North, +And the warm waves of undiscovered seas. + + For I was born out of the sparkling foam +Which lights the crest of the blue mystic wave, +Stirred by the wandering breath of Life's pure dawn +From a young soul's calm depths. There, without voice, +Stretched on the breathing curve of a young breast, +Fluttering a little, fresh from the great deep +Of life, and creamy as the opening rose, +Naked I lie, naked yet unashamed, +While youth's warm tide steals round me with a kiss, +And floods each limb with fairness. Shame I know not-- +Shame is for wrong, and not for innocence-- +The veil which Error grasps to hide itself +From the awful Eye. But I, I lie unveiled +And unashamed--the livelong day I lie, +The warm wave murmuring to me; and, all night, +Hidden in the moonlit caves of happy Sleep, +I dream until the morning and am glad. + + Why should I seek to clothe myself, and hide +The treasure of my Beauty? Shame may wait +On those for whom 'twas given. The sties of sense +Are none of mine; the brutish, loveless wrong, +The venal charm, the simulated flush +Of fleshly passion, they are none of mine, +Only corruptions of me. Yet I know +The counterfeit the stronger, since gross souls +And brutish sway the earth; and yet I hold +That sense itself is sacred, and I deem +'Twere better to grow soft and sink in sense +Than gloat o'er blood and wrong. + My kingdom is +Over infinite grades of being. All breathing things, +From the least crawling insect to the brute, +From brute to man, confess me. Yet in man +I find my worthiest worship. Where man is, +A youth and a maid, a youth and a maid, nought else +Is wanting for my temple. Every clime +Kneels to me--the long breaker swells and falls +Under the palms, mixed with the merry noise +Of savage bridals, and the straight brown limbs +Know me, and over all the endless plains +I reign, and by the tents on the hot sand +And sea-girt isles am queen, and on the side +Of silent mountains, where the white cots gleam +Upon the green hill pastures, and no sound +But the thunder of the avalanche is borne +To the listening rocks around; and in fair lands +Where all is peace; where thro' the happy hush +Of tranquil summer evenings, 'mid the corn, +Or thro' cool arches of the gadding vines, +The lovers stray together hand in hand, +Hymning my praise; and by the stately streets +Of echoing cities--over all the earth, +Palace and cot, mountain and plain and sea, +The burning South, the icy North, the old +And immemorial East, the unbounded West, +No new god comes to spoil me utterly-- +All worship and are mine!" + With a sweet smile +Upon her rosy mouth, the goddess ceased; +And when she spake no more, the silence weighed +As heavy on my soul as when it takes +Some gracious melody, and leaves the ear +Unsatisfied and longing, till the fount +Of sweetness springs again. + + + + + But while I stood +Expectant, lo! a fair pale form drew near +With front severe, and wide blue eyes which bore +Mild wisdom in their gaze. Great purity +Shone from her--not the young-eyed innocence +Of her whom first I saw, but that which comes +From wider knowledge, which restrains the tide +Of passionate youth, and leads the musing soul +By the calm deeps of Wisdom. And I knew +My eyes had seen the fair, the virgin Queen, +Who once within her shining Parthenon +Beheld the sages kneel. + She with clear voice +And coldly sweet, yet with a softness too, +As doth befit a virgin: + "She does right +To boast her sway, my sister, seeing indeed +That all things are as by a double law, +And from a double root the tree of Life +Springs up to the face of heaven. Body and Soul, +Matter and Spirit, lower joys of Sense +And higher joys of Thought, I know that both +Build up the shrine of Being. The brute sense +Leaves man a brute; but, winged with soaring thought +Mounts to high heaven. The unembodied spirit, +Dwelling alone, unmated, void of sense, +Is impotent. And yet I hold there is, +Far off, but not too far for mortal reach, +A calmer height, where, nearer to the stars, +Thought sits alone and gazes with rapt gaze, +A large-eyed maiden in a robe of white. +Who brings the light of Knowledge down, and draws +To her pontifical eyes a bridge of gold, +Which spans from earth to heaven. + For what were life, +If things of sense were all, for those large souls +And high, which grudging Nature has shut fast +Within unlovely forms, or those from whom +The circuit of the rapid gliding years +Steals the brief gift of beauty? Shall we hold, +With idle singers, all the treasure of hope +Is lost with youth--swift-fleeting, treacherous youth, +Which fades and flies before the ripening brain +Crowns life with Wisdom's crown? Nay, even in youth, +Is it not more to walk upon the heights +Alone--the cold free heights--and mark the vale +Lie breathless in the glare, or hidden and blurred +By cloud and storm; or pestilence and war +Creep on with blood and death; while the soul dwells +Apart upon the peaks, outfronts the sun +As the eagle does, and takes the coming dawn +While all the vale is dark, and knows the springs +Of tiny rivulets hurrying from the snows, +Which soon shall swell to vast resistless floods, +And feed the Oceans which divide the World? + + Oh, ecstasy! oh, wonder! oh, delight! +Which neither the slow-withering wear of Time, +That takes all else--the smooth and rounded cheek +Of youth; the lightsome step; the warm young heart +Which beats for love or friend; the treasure of hope +Immeasurable; the quick-coursing blood +Which makes it joy to be,--ay, takes them all +And leaves us naught--nor yet satiety +Born of too full possession, takes or mars! +Oh, fair delight of learning! which grows great +And stronger and more keen, for slower limbs, +And dimmer eyes and loneliness, and loss +Of lower good--wealth, friendship, ay, and Love-- +When the swift soul, turning its weary gaze +From the old vanished joys, projects itself +Into the void and floats in empty space, +Striving to reach the mystic source of Things, +The secrets of the earth and sea and air, +The Law that holds the process of the suns, +The awful depths of Mind and Thought; the prime +Unfathomable mystery of God! + + Is there, then, any who holds my worship cold +And lifeless? Nay, but 'tis the light which cheers +The waning life! Love thou thy love, brave youth! +Cleave to thy love, fair maid! it is the Law +Which dominates the world, that bids ye use +Your nature; but, when now the fuller tide +Slackens a little, turn your calmer eyes +To the fair page of Knowledge. It is power +I give, and power is precious. It is strength +To live four-square, careless of outward shows, +And self-sufficing. It is clearer sight +To know the rule of life, the Eternal scheme; +And, knowing it, to do and not to err, +And, doing, to be blest." + The calm voice soared +Higher and higher to the close; the cold +Clear accents, fired as by a hidden fire, +Glowed into life and tenderness, and throbbed +As with some spiritual ecstasy +Sweeter than that of Love. + + + + + But as they died, +I heard an ampler voice; and looking, marked +A fair and gracious form. She seemed a Queen +Who ruled o'er gods and men; the majesty +Of perfect womanhood. No opening bud +Of beauty, but the full consummate flower +Was hers; and from her mild large eyes looked forth +Gentle command, and motherhood, and home, +And pure affection. Awe and reverence +O'erspread me, as I knew my eyes had looked +On sovereign Heré, mother of the gods. + + She, with clear, rounded utterance, sweet and calm +"I know Love's fruit is good and fair to see +And taste, if any gain it, and I know +How brief Life's Passion-tide, which when it ends +May change to thirst for Knowledge, and I know +How fair the realm of Mind, wherein the soul +Thirsting to know, wings its impetuous way +Beyond the bounds of Thought; and yet I hold +There is a higher bliss than these, which fits +A mortal life, compact of Body and Soul, +And therefore double-natured--a calm path +Which lies before the feet, thro' common ways +And undistinguished crowds of toiling men, +And yet is hard to tread, tho' seeming smooth, +And yet, tho' level, earns a worthier crown. + + For Knowledge is a steep which few may climb, +While Duty is a path which all may tread. +And if the Soul of Life and Thought be this, +How best to speed the mighty scheme, which still +Fares onward day by day--the Life of the World, +Which is the sum of petty lives, that live +And die so this may live--how then shall each +Of that great multitude of faithful souls +Who walk not on the heights, fulfil himself, +But by the duteous Life which looks not forth +Beyond its narrow sphere, and finds its work, +And works it out; content, this done, to fall +And perish, if Fate will, so the great Scheme +Goes onward? + Wherefore am I Queen in Heaven +And Earth, whose realm is Duty, bearing rule +More constant and more wide than those whose words +Thou heardest last. Mine are the striving souls +Of fathers toiling day by day obscure +And unrewarded, save by their own hearts, +Mid wranglings of the Forum or the mart; +Who long for joys of Thought, and yet must toil +Unmurmuring thro' dull lives from youth to age; +Who haply might have worn instead the crown +Of Honour and of Fame: mine the fair mothers +Who, for the love of children and of home, +When passion dies, expend their toilful years +In loving labour sweetened by the sense +Of Duty: mine the statesman who toils on +Thro' vigilant nights and days, guiding his State. +Yet finds no gratitude; and those white souls +Who give themselves for others all their years +In trivial tasks of Pity. The fine growths +Of Man and Time are mine, and spend themselves +For me and for the mystical End which lies +Beyond their gaze and mine, and yet is good, +Tho' hidden from men and gods. + For as the flower +Of the tiger-lily bright with varied hues +Is for a day, then fades and leaves behind +Fairness nor fruit, while the green tiny tuft +Swells to the purple of the clustering grape +Or golden waves of wheat; so lives of men +Which show most splendid; fade and are deceased +And leave no trace; while those, unmarked, unseen, +Which no man recks of, rear the stately tree +Of Knowledge, not for itself sought out, but found +In the dusty ways of life--a fairer growth +Than springs in cloistered shades; and from the sum +Of Duty, blooms sweeter and more divine +The fair ideal of the Race, than comes +From glittering gains of Learning. + Life, full life, +Full-flowered, full-fruited, reared from homely earth, +Rooted in duty, and thro' long calm years +Bearing its load of healthful energies; +Stretching its arms on all sides; fed with dews +Of cheerful sacrifice, and clouds of care, +And rain of useful tears; warmed by the sun +Of calm affection, till it breathes itself +In perfume to the heavens--this is the prize +I hold most dear, more precious than the fruit +Of Knowledge or of Love." + The goddess ceased +As dies some gracious harmony, the child +Of wedded themes which single and alone +Were discords, but united breathe a sound +Sweet as the sounds of heaven. + + + + + And then stood forth +The last of the gods I saw, the first in rank +And dignity and beauty, the young god +Who grows not old, the Light of Heaven and Earth, +The Worker from afar, who sends the fire +Of inspiration to the bard and bathes +The world in hues of heaven--the golden link +Between High God and Man. + With a sweet voice +Whose every note was sweetest melody-- +The melody has fled, the words remain-- +Apollo sang: + "I know how fair the face +Of Purity; I know the treasure of Strength; +I know the charm of Love, the calmer grace +Of Wisdom and of Duteous well-spent lives: +And yet there is a loftier height than these. + + There is a Height higher than mortal thought; +There is a Love warmer than mortal love; +There is a Life which taketh not its hues +From Earth or earthly things; and so grows pure +And higher than the petty cares of men, +And is a blessed life and glorified. + + Oh, white young souls, strain upward, upward still, +Even to the heavenly source of Purity! +Brave hearts, bear on and suffer! Strike for right, +Strong arms, and hew down wrong! The world hath need +Of all of you--the sensual wrongful world! + + Hath need of you, and of thee too, fair Love. +Oh, lovers, cling together! the old world +Is full of Hate. Sweeten it; draw in one +Two separate chords of Life; and from the bond +Of twin souls lost in Harmony create +A Fair God dwelling with you--Love, the Lord! + + Waft yourselves, yearning souls, upon the stars; +Sow yourselves on the wandering winds of space; +Watch patient all your days, if your eyes take +Some dim, cold ray of Knowledge. The dull world +Hath need of you--the purblind, slothful world! + + Live on, brave lives, chained to the narrow round +Of Duty; live, expend yourselves, and make +The orb of Being wheel onward steadfastly +Upon its path--the Lord of Life alone +Knows to what goal of Good; work on, live on: +And yet there is a higher work than yours. + + To have looked upon the face of the Unknown +And Perfect Beauty. To have heard the voice +Of Godhead in the winds and in the seas. +To have known Him in the circling of the suns, +And in the changeful fates and lives of men. + + To be fulfilled with Godhead as a cup +Filled with a precious essence, till the hand +On marble or on canvas falling, leaves +Celestial traces, or from reed or string +Draws out faint echoes of the voice Divine +That bring God nearer to a faithless world. + + Or, higher still and fairer and more blest, +To be His seer, His prophet; to be the voice +Of the Ineffable Word; to be the glass +Of the Ineffable Light, and bring them down +To bless the earth, set in a shrine of Song. + + For Knowledge is a barren tree and bare, +Bereft of God, and Duty but a word, +And Strength but Tyranny, and Love, Desire, +And Purity a folly; and the Soul, +Which brings down God to Man, the Light to the world; +He is the Maker, and is blest, is blest!" + + He ended, and I felt my soul grow faint +With too much sweetness. + In a mist of grace +They faded, that bright company, and seemed +To melt into each other and shape themselves +Into new forms, and those fair goddesses +Blent in a perfect woman--all the calm +High motherhood of Heré, the sweet smile +Of Cypris, fair Athené's earnest eyes, +And the young purity of Artemis, +Blent in a perfect woman; and in her arms, +Fused by some cosmic interlacing curves +Of Beauty into a new Innocence, +A child with eyes divine, a little child, +A little child--no more. + And those great gods +Of Power and Beauty left a heavenly form +Strong not to act, but suffer; fair and meek, +Not proud and eager; with soft eyes of grace, +Not bold with joyous youth; and for the fire +Of song, and for the happy careless life, +A sorrowful pilgrimage--changed, yet the same +Only Diviner far; and keeping still +The Life God-lighted and the sacrifice. + + And when these faded wholly, at my side, +Tho' hidden before by those too-radiant forms, +I was aware once more of her, my guide +Psyche, who had not left me, floating near +On golden wings; and all the plains of heaven +Were left to us, me and my soul alone. + + Then when my thought revived again, I said +Whispering, "But Zeus I saw not, the prime Source +And Sire of all the gods." + And she, bent low +With downcast eyes: "Nay. Thou hast seen of Him +All that thine eyes can bear, in those fair forms +Which are but parts of Him and are indeed +Attributes of the Substance which supports +The Universe of Things--the Soul of the World, +The Stream which flows Eternal, from no Source +Into no Sea, His Purity, His Strength, +His Love, His Knowledge, His unchanging rule +Of Duty, thou hast seen, only a part +And not the whole, being a finite mind +Too weak for infinite thought; nor, couldst thou see +All of Him visible to mortal sight, +Wouldst thou see all His essence, since the gods-- +Glorified essences of Human mould, +Who are but Zeus made visible to men-- +See Him not wholly, only some thin edge +And halo of His glory; nor know they +What vast and unsuspected Universes +Lie beyond thought, where yet He rules, like those +Vast Suns we cannot see, round which our Sun +Moves with his system, or those darker still +Which not even thus we know, but yet exist +Tho' no eye marks, nor thought itself, and lurk +In the awful Depths of Space; or that which is +Not orbed as yet, but indiscrete, confused, +Sown thro' the void--the faintest gleam of light +Which sets itself to Be. And yet is He +There too, and rules, none seeing. But sometimes +To this our heaven, which is so like to earth +But nearer to Him, for awhile He shows +Some gleam of His own brightness, and methinks +It cometh soon; but thou, if thou shouldst gaze, +Thy Life will rush to His--the tiny spark +Absorbed in that full blaze--and what there is +Of mortal fall from thee." + But I: "Oh, soul, +What holdeth Life more precious than to know +The Giver and to die?" + Then she: "Behold! +Look upward and adore." + And with the word, +Unhasting, undelaying, gradual, sure, +The floating cloud which clothed the hidden peak +Rose slow in awful silence, laying bare +Spire after rocky spire, snow after snow, +Whiter and yet more dreadful, till at last +It left the summit clear. + Then with a bound, +In the twinkling of an eye, in the flash of a thought, +I knew an Awful Effluence of Light, +Formless, Ineffable, Perfect, burst on me +And flood my being round, and take my life +Into itself. I saw my guide bent down +Prostrate, her wings before her face; and then +No more. + + + + + But when I woke from my long trance +Behold, it was no longer Tartarus, +Nor Hades, nor Olympus, but the bare +And unideal aspect of the fields +Which Spring not yet had kissed--the strange old Earth +So far more fabulous now than in the days +When Man was young, nor yet the mystery +Of Time and Fate transformed it. From the hills, +The long night fled at last, the unclouded sun, +The dear, fair sun, leapt upward swift, and smote +My sight with rays of gold, and pierced my brain +With too much light ere my entrancèd eyes +Could hide themselves. + And I was on the Earth +Dreaming the dream of Life again, as late +I dreamed the dream of Death. + Another day +Dawned on the race of men; another world; +New heavens, and new earth. + + + + + And as I went +Across the lightening fields, upon a bank +I saw a single snowdrop glance, and bring +Promise of Spring; and keeping my old thought +In the old fair Hellenic vesture dressed, +I felt myself a ghost, and seemed to be +Now fair Adonis hasting to the arms +Of his lost love--now sad Persephone +Restored to mother earth--or that high shade +Orpheus, who gave up heaven to save his love, +And is rewarded--or young Marsyas, +Who spent his youth and life for song, and yet +Was happy though in torture--or the fair +And dreaming youth I saw, who still awaits, +Hopeful, the unveiling heaven, when he shall see +His fair ideal love. The birds sang blithe; +There came a tinkling from the waking fold; +And on the hillside from the cot a girl +Tripped singing with her pitcher. All the sounds +And thoughts which still are beautiful--Youth, Song, +Dawn, Spring, Renewal--and my soul was glad +Of all the freshness, and I felt again +The youth and spring-tide of the world, and thought, +Which feigned those fair and gracious fantasies. + + For every dawn that breaks brings a new world, +And every budding bosom a new life; +These fair tales, which we know so beautiful, +Show only finer than our lives to-day +Because their voice was clearer, and they found +A sacred bard to sing them. We are pent, +Who sing to-day, by all the garnered wealth +Of ages of past song. We have no more +The world to choose from, who, where'er we turn, +Tread through old thoughts and fair. Yet must we sing-- +We have no choice; and if more hard the toil +In noon, when all is clear, than in the fresh +White mists of early morn, yet do we find +Achievement its own guerdon, and at last +The rounder song of manhood grows more sweet +Than the high note of youth. + For Age, long Age! +Nought else divides us from the fresh young days +Which men call ancient; seeing that we in turn +Shall one day be Time's ancients, and inspire +The wiser, higher race, which yet shall sing +Because to sing is human, and high thought +Grows rhythmic ere its close. Nought else there is +But that weird beat of Time, which doth disjoin +To-day from Hellas. + How should any hold +Those precious scriptures only old-world tales +Of strange impossible torments and false gods; +Of men and monsters in some brainless dream, +Coherent, yet unmeaning, linked together +By some false skein of song? + Nay! evermore, +All things and thoughts, both new and old, are writ +Upon the unchanging human heart and soul. +Has Passion still no prisoners? Pine there now +No lives which fierce Love, sinking into Lust, +Has drowned at last in tears and blood--plunged down +To the lowest depths of Hell? Have not strong Will +And high Ambition rotted into Greed +And Wrong, for any, as of old, and whelmed +The struggling soul in ruin? Hell lies near +Around us as does Heaven, and in the World, +Which is our Hades, still the chequered souls +Compact of good and ill--not all accurst +Nor altogether blest--a few brief years +Travel the little journey of their lives, +They know not to what end. The weary woman +Sunk deep in ease and sated with her life, +Much loved and yet unloving, pines to-day +As Helen; still the poet strives and sings. +And hears Apollo's music, and grows dumb, +And suffers, yet is happy; still the young +Fond dreamer seeks his high ideal love, +And finds her name is Death; still doth the fair +And innocent life, bound naked to the rock, +Redeem the race; still the gay tempter goes +And leaves his victim, stone; still doth pain bind +Men's souls in closer links of lovingness, +Than Death itself can sever; still the sight +Of too great beauty blinds us, and we lose +The sense of earthly splendours, gaining Heaven. + + And still the skies are opened as of old +To the entrancèd gaze, ay, nearer far +And brighter than of yore; and Might is there, +And Infinite Purity is there, and high +Eternal Wisdom, and the calm clear face +Of Duty, and a higher, stronger Love +And Light in one, and a new, reverend Name, +Greater than any and combining all; +And over all, veiled with a veil of cloud, +God set far off, too bright for mortal eyes. + + And always, always, with each soul that comes +And goes, comes that fair form which was my guide, +Hovering, with golden wings and eyes divine, +Above the bed of birth, the bed of death, +Still breathing heavenly airs of deathless love. + + For while a youth is lost in soaring thought, +And while a maid grows sweet and beautiful, +And while a spring-tide coming lights the earth, +And while a child, and while a flower is born, +And while one wrong cries for redress and finds +A soul to answer, still the world is young! + + + + + THE END. + + + + + Footnotes: + [1] Euripides, "Hippolytus," lines 70-78. + [2] Virgil, "Æneid," vi. 740. + [3] See the Orphic Hymns. + + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + [Transcriber's Notes: + This text is hemistichia, in that the end of one stanza + is vertically aligned with the start of the next stanza. + Inconsistent Hyphenation and text retained.] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Epic of Hades, by Lewis Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + +***** This file should be named 38011-8.txt or 38011-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/1/38011/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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: The Epic of Hades + In Three Books + +Author: Lewis Morris + +Release Date: November 14, 2011 [EBook #38011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a></span></p> + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p class="center">THE POETICAL WORKS OF</p> + +<h2>MR. LEWIS MORRIS.</h2> + + +<p class="center">I.</p> + +<p class="center">SONGS OF TWO WORLDS. With Portrait. +Eleventh Edition, price 5<i>s.</i></p> + + +<p class="center">II.</p> + +<p class="center">THE EPIC OF HADES. With an Autotype +Illustration, Nineteenth Edition, price 5<i>s.</i></p> + + +<p class="center">III.</p> + +<p class="center">GWEN and THE ODE OF LIFE. With +Frontispiece. Sixth Edition, price 5<i>s.</i></p> + + +<p class="center">THE EPIC OF HADES. Third Illustrated +Edition. With Sixteen Autotype Plates after the +Drawings by the late <span class="smcap">George R. Chapman</span>, 4to, +cloth extra, gilt edges, price 21<i>s.</i></p> + +<p class="center">THE EPIC OF HADES. The Presentation +Edition. 4to, cloth extra, price 10<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i></p> + +<p class="center">SONGS UNSUNG. Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo, +cloth, 6<i>s.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> <i>For Notices of the Press, see end of this Volume.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">London: Kegan Paul, Trench & Co</span>. +</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p> + +<div> +<br /><br /> +<h1>THE POETICAL WORKS OF<br /> + +LEWIS MORRIS</h1> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center"><i>VOLUME TWO</i></p> + +<h1>THE EPIC OF HADES</h1> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center">LONDON<br /> + +KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE<br /> + +1885</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p> +<p><br /></p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 420px;"> +<img src="images/image003.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="Then with wings Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land." /> +<p class="caption"><i>Then with wings<br /> +Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes<br /> +Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land.</i></p> +<p style="text-align:right;"><a href="#Page_228">Page 228.</a></p></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p> + + +<div> +<h1>THE EPIC OF HADES</h1> + +<p class="center">IN THREE BOOKS</p> + +<p class="center">BY</p> + +<h3>LEWIS MORRIS</h3> + +<p class="center">M.A.; HONORARY FELLOW OF JESUS COLLEGE, OXFORD<br /> +KNIGHT OF THE REDEEMER OF GREECE, ETC., ETC.</p> + +<hr class="r5" /> +<p class="center">"DIFFICILE EST PROPRIE COMMUNIA DICERE"</p> +<hr class="r5" /> + +<p class="center">NINETEENTH EDITION.</p> + +<p class="center">LONDON<br /> + +KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE<br /> + +1885</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a></span></p> + +<div> +<br /><br /> +<p class="center">"The three excellences of Poetry: simplicity of language, simplicity of +subject, and simplicity of invention"—<i>The Welsh Triads</i>.</p> + +<br /><br /> +<p class="center">(<i>The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii"></a></span></p> + +<div><p class="center"> +<br /><br /> +TO ALL<br /> +<br /> +WHO LOVE THE LITERATURE OF GREECE<br /> +<br /> +THIS POEM IS DEDICATED<br /> +<br /> +BY<br /> +<br /> +THE AUTHOR.</p> +<br /><br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii"></a></span></p> +<div><br /></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix"></a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> +<hr class="r5" /> +<h2><a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I.</a><br /> +<br /> +TARTARUS.</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="width:85%" summary="tocbook1"> +<tr><td align="left"></td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Tantalus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Phædra</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_23">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Sisyphus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Clytæmnestra</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h2><a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II.</a><br /> +<br /> +HADES.</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="width:85%" summary="tocbook2"> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Marsyas</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_82">82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Andromeda</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_95">95</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Actæon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_110">110</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Helen</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>Eurydice</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Orpheus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Deianeira</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Laocoon</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Narcissus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_175">175</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Medusa</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Adonis</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Persephone</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Endymion</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Psyche</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h2><a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK III.</a><br /> +<br /> +OLYMPUS.</h2> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" style="width:85%" summary="tocbook3"> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Artemis</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Herakles</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Aphrodité</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Athené</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_255">255</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Heré</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_261">261</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Apollo</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_267">267</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="smcap">Zeus</span></td><td align="right"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1"></a></span></p> + +<div> +<br /> +<br /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I.<br /> +<br /> +TARTARUS.</h2> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2"></a></span></p> +<div><br /></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p> + + + +<h1>THE EPIC OF HADES.</h1> + +<p class="v2 i0">In February, when the dawn was slow,<br /> +And winds lay still, I gazed upon the fields<br /> +Which stretched before me, lifeless, and the stream<br /> +Which laboured in the distance to the sea,<br /> +Sullen and cold. No force of fancy took<br /> +My thought to bloomy June, when all the land<br /> +Lay deep in crested grass, and through the dew<br /> +The landrail brushed, and the lush banks were set<br /> +With strawberries, and the hot noise of bees<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span><br /> +Lulled the bright flowers. Rather I seemed to move<br /> +Thro' that weird land, Hellenic fancy feigned,<br /> +Beyond the fabled river and the bark<br /> +Of Charon; and forthwith on every side<br /> +Rose the thin throng of ghosts.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">First thro' the gloom<br /> +Of a dark grove I strayed—a sluggish wood,<br /> +Where scarce the faint fires of the setting stars,<br /> +Or some cold gleam of half-discovered dawn,<br /> +Might pierce the darkling pines. A twilight drear<br /> +Brooded o'er all the depths, and filled the dank<br /> +And sunken hollows of the rocks with shapes<br /> +Of terror,—beckoning hands and noiseless feet<br /> +Flitting from shade to shade, wide eyes that stared<br /> +With horror, and dumb mouths which seemed to cry,<br /> +Yet cried not. An ineffable despair<br /> +Hung over them and that dark world and took<br /> +The gazer captive, and a mingled pang<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span><br /> +Of grief and anger, grown to fierce revolt<br /> +And hatred of the Invisible Force which holds<br /> +The issue of our lives and binds us fast<br /> +Within the net of Fate; as the fisher takes<br /> +The little quivering sea-things from the sea<br /> +And flings them gasping on the beach to die<br /> +Then spreads his net for more. And then again<br /> +I knew myself and those, creatures who lie<br /> +Safe in the strong grasp of Unchanging Law,<br /> +Encompassed round by hands unseen, and chains<br /> +Which do support the feeble life that else<br /> +Were spent on barren space; and thus I came<br /> +To look with less of horror, more of thought,<br /> +And bore to see the sight of pain that yet<br /> +Should grow to healing, when the concrete stain<br /> +Of life and act were purged, and the cleansed soul,<br /> +Renewed by the slow wear and waste of time,<br /> +Soared after æons of days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i27">They seemed alone,<br /> +Those prisoners, thro' all time. Each soul shut fast<br /> +In its own jail of woe, apart, alone,<br /> +For evermore alone; no thought of kin,<br /> +Or kindly human glance, or fellowship<br /> +Of suffering or of sin, made light the load<br /> +Of solitary pain. Ay, though they walked<br /> +Together, or were prisoned in one cell<br /> +With the partners of their wrong, or with strange souls<br /> +Which the same Furies tore, they knew them not,<br /> +But suffered still alone; as in that shape<br /> +Of hell fools build on earth, where hopeless sin<br /> +Rots slow in solitude, nor sees the face<br /> +Of men, nor hears the sound of speech, nor feels<br /> +The touch of human hand, but broods a ghost,<br /> +Hating the bare blank cell—the other self,<br /> +Which brought it thither—hating man and God,<br /> +And all that is or has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i27">A great fear<br /> +And pity froze my blood, who seemed to see<br /> +A half-remembered form.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">An Eastern King<br /> +It was who lay in pain. He wore a crown<br /> +Upon his aching brow, and his white robe<br /> +Was jewelled with fair gems of price, the signs<br /> +Of pomp and honour and all luxury,<br /> +Which might prevent desire. But as I looked<br /> +There came a hunger in the gloating eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span><br /> +A quenchless thirst upon the parching lips,<br /> +And such unsatisfied strainings in the hands<br /> +Stretched idly forth on what I could not see,<br /> +Some fatal food of fancy; that I knew<br /> +The undying worm of sense, which frets and gnaws<br /> +The unsatisfied stained soul.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Seeing me, he said:<br /> +"What? And art thou too damned as I? Dost know<br /> +This thirst as I, and see as I the cool<br /> +Lymph drawn from thee and mock thy lips; and parch<br /> +For ever in continual thirst; and mark<br /> +The fair fruit offered to thy hunger fade<br /> +Before thy longing eyes? I thought there was<br /> +No other as I thro' all the weary lengths<br /> +Of Time the gods have made, who pined so long<br /> +And found fruition mock him.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">Long ago,<br /> +When I was young on earth, 'twas a sweet pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span><br /> +To ride all day in the long chase, and feel<br /> +Toil and the summer fire my blood and parch<br /> +My lips, while in my father's halls I knew<br /> +The cool bath waited, with its marble floor;<br /> +And juices from the ripe fruits pressed, and chilled<br /> +With snows from far-off peaks; and troops of slaves;<br /> +And music and the dance; and fair young forms.<br /> +And dalliance, and every joy of sense,<br /> +That haunts the dreams of youth, which strength and ease<br /> +Corrupt, and vacant hours. Ay, it was sweet<br /> +For a while to plunge in these, as fair boys plunge<br /> +Naked in summer streams, all veil of shame<br /> +Laid by, only the young dear body bathed<br /> +And sunk in its delight, while the firm earth,<br /> +The soft green pastures gay with innocent flowers,<br /> +Or sober harvest fields, show like a dream;<br /> +And nought is left, but the young life which floats<br /> +Upon the depths of death, to sink, maybe,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span><br /> +And drown in pleasure, or rise at length grown wise<br /> +And gain the abandoned shore.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Ah, but at last<br /> +The swift desire waxed stronger and more strong,<br /> +And feeding on itself, grows tyrannous;<br /> +And the parched soul no longer finds delight<br /> +In the cool stream of old; nay, this itself,<br /> +Smitten by the fire of sense as by a flame,<br /> +Holds not its coolness more; and fevered limbs,<br /> +Seeking the fresh tides of their youth, may find<br /> +No more refreshment, but a cauldron fired<br /> +With the fires of nether hell; and a black rage<br /> +Usurps the soul, and drives it on to slake<br /> +Its thirst with crime and blood.</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">Longing Desire!<br /> +Unsatisfied, sick, impotent Desire!<br /> +Oh, I have known it ages long. I knew<br /> +Its pain on earth ere yet my life had grown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span><br /> +To its full stature, thro' the weary years<br /> +Of manhood, nay, in age itself; I knew<br /> +The quenchless weary thirst, unsatisfied<br /> +By all the charms of sense, by wealth and power<br /> +And homage; always craving, never quenched—<br /> +The undying curse of the soul! The ministers<br /> +And agents of my will drave far and wide<br /> +Through all the land for me, seeking to find<br /> +Fresh pleasures for me, who had spent my sum<br /> +Of pleasure, and had power, not even in thought,<br /> +Nor faculty to enjoy. They tore apart<br /> +The sacred claustral doors of home for me,<br /> +Defiled the inviolate hearth for me, laid waste<br /> +The flower of humble lives, in hope to heal<br /> +The sickly fancies of the king, till rose<br /> +A cry of pain from all the land; and I<br /> +Grew happier for it, since I held the power<br /> +To quench desire in blood.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i27">But even thus<br /> +The old pain faded not, but swift again<br /> +Revived; and thro' the sensual dull lengths<br /> +Of my seraglios I stalked, and marked<br /> +The glitter of the gems, the precious webs<br /> +Plundered from every clime by cruel wars<br /> +That strewed the sands with corpses; lovely eyes<br /> +That looked no look of love, and fired no more<br /> +Thoughts of the flesh; rich meats, and fruits, and wines<br /> +Grown flat and savourless; and loathed them all,<br /> +And only cared for power; content to shed<br /> +Rivers of innocent blood, if only thus<br /> +I might appease my thirst. Until I grew<br /> +A monster gloating over blood and pain.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah, weary, weary days, when every sense<br /> +Was satisfied, and nothing left to slake<br /> +The parched unhappy soul, except to watch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span><br /> +The writhing limbs and mark the slow blood drip,<br /> +Drop after drop, as the life ebbed with it;<br /> +In a new thrill of lust, till blood itself<br /> +Palled on me, and I knew the fiend I was,<br /> +Yet cared not—I who was, brief years ago,<br /> +Only a careless boy lapt round with ease,<br /> +Stretched by the soft and stealing tide of sense<br /> +Which now grew red; nor ever dreamed at all<br /> +What Furies lurked beneath it, but had shrunk<br /> +In indolent horror from the sight of tears<br /> +And misery, and felt my inmost soul<br /> +Sicken with the thought of blood. There comes a time<br /> +When the insatiate brute within the man,<br /> +Weary with wallowing in the mire, leaps forth<br /> +Devouring, and the cloven satyr-hoof<br /> +Grows to the rending claw, and the lewd leer<br /> +To the horrible fanged snarl, and the soul sinks<br /> +And leaves the man a devil, all his sin<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span><br /> +Grown savourless, and yet he longs to sin<br /> +And longs in vain for ever.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Yet, methinks,<br /> +It was not for the gods to leave me thus.<br /> +I stinted not their worship, building shrines<br /> +To all of them; the Goddess of Love I served<br /> +With hecatombs, letting the fragrant fumes<br /> +Of incense and the costly steam ascend<br /> +From victims year by year; nay, my own son<br /> +Pelops, my best beloved, I gave to them<br /> +Offering, as he must offer who would gain<br /> +The great gods' grace, my dearest.</p> + +<p class="v0 i35">I had gained<br /> +Through long and weary orgies that strange sense<br /> +Of nothingness and wasted days which blights<br /> +The exhausted life, bearing upon its front<br /> +Counterfeit knowledge, when the bitter ash<br /> +Of Evil, which the sick soul loathes, appears<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span><br /> +Like the pure fruit of Wisdom. I had grown<br /> +As wizards seem, who mingle sensual rites<br /> +And forms impure with murderous spells and dark<br /> +Enchantments; till the simple people held<br /> +My very weakness wisdom, and believed<br /> +That in my blood-stained palace-halls, withdrawn,<br /> +I kept the inner mysteries of Zeus<br /> +And knew the secret of all Being; who was<br /> +A sick and impotent wretch, so sick, so tired,<br /> +That even bloodshed palled.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">For my stained soul,<br /> +Knowing its sin, hastened to purge itself<br /> +With every rite and charm which the dark lore<br /> +Of priestcraft offered to it. Spells obscene,<br /> +The blood of innocent babes, sorceries foul<br /> +Muttered at midnight—these could occupy<br /> +My weary days; till all my people shrank<br /> +To see me, and the mother clasped her child<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span><br /> +Who heard the monster pass.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">They would not hear.<br /> +They listened not—the cold ungrateful gods—<br /> +For all my supplications; nay, the more<br /> +I sought them were they hidden.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">At the last<br /> +A dark voice whispered nightly: 'Thou, poor wretch,<br /> +That art so sick and impotent, thyself<br /> +The source of all thy misery, the great gods<br /> +Ask a more precious gift and excellent<br /> +Than alien victims which thou prizest not<br /> +And givest without a pang. But shouldst thou take<br /> +Thy costliest and fairest offering,<br /> +'Twere otherwise. The life which thou hast given<br /> +Thou mayst recall. Go, offer at the shrine<br /> +Thy best belovèd Pelops, and appease<br /> +Zeus and the averted gods, and know again<br /> +The youth and joy of yore.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Night after night,<br /> +While all the halls were still, and the cold stars<br /> +Were fading into dawn, I lay awake<br /> +Distraught with warring thoughts, my throbbing brain<br /> +Filled with that dreadful voice. I had not shrunk<br /> +From blood, but this, the strong son of my youth—<br /> +How should I dare this thing? And all day long<br /> +I would steal from sight of him and men, and fight<br /> +Against the dreadful thought, until the voice<br /> +Seared all my burning brain, and clamoured, 'Kill!<br /> +Zeus bids thee, and be happy.' Then I rose<br /> +At midnight, when the halls were still, and raised<br /> +The arras, and stole soft to where my son<br /> +Lay sleeping. For one moment on his face<br /> +And stalwart limbs I gazed, and marked the rise<br /> +And fall of his young breast, and the soft plume<br /> +Which drooped upon his brow, and felt a thrill<br /> +Of yearning; but the cold voice urging me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span><br /> +Burned me like fire. Three times I gazed and turned<br /> +Irresolute, till last it thundered at me,<br /> +'Strike, fool! thou art in hell; strike, fool! and lose<br /> +The burden of thy chains.' Then with slow step<br /> +I crept as creeps the tiger on the deer,<br /> +Raised high my arm, shut close my eyes, and plunged<br /> +My dagger in his heart.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">And then, with a flash,<br /> +The veil fell downward from my life and left<br /> +Myself to me—the daily sum of sense—<br /> +The long continual trouble of desire—<br /> +The stain of blood blotting the stain of lust—<br /> +The weary foulness of my days, which wrecked<br /> +My heart and brain, and left me at the last<br /> +A madman and accursèd; and I knew,<br /> +Far higher than the sensual slope which held<br /> +The gods whom erst I worshipped, a white peak<br /> +Of Purity, and a stern voice pealing doom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>—<br /> +Not the mad voice of old—which pierced so deep<br /> +Within my life, that with the reeking blade<br /> +Wet with the heart's blood of my child I smote<br /> +My guilty heart in twain.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">Ah! fool, to dream<br /> +That the long stain of time might fade and merge<br /> +In one poor chrism of blood. They taught of yore,<br /> +My priests who flattered me—nor knew at all<br /> +The greater God I know, who sits afar<br /> +Beyond those earthly shapes, passionless, pure,<br /> +And awful as the Dawn—that the gods cared<br /> +For costly victims, drinking in the steam<br /> +Of sacrifice when the choice hecatombs<br /> +Were offered for my wrong. Ah no! there is<br /> +No recompense in these, nor any charm<br /> +To cleanse the stain of sin, but the long wear<br /> +Of suffering, when the soul which seized too much<br /> +Of pleasure here, grows righteous by the pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span><br /> +That doth redress its ill. For what is Right<br /> +But equipoise of Nature, alternating<br /> +The Too Much and Too Little? Not on earth<br /> +The salutary silent forces work<br /> +Their final victory, but year on year<br /> +Passes, and age on age, and leaves the debt<br /> +Unsatisfied, while the o'erburdened soul<br /> +Unloads itself in pain.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">Therefore it is<br /> +I suffer as I suffered ere swift death<br /> +Set me not free, no otherwise; and yet<br /> +There comes a healing purpose in my pain<br /> +I never knew on earth; nor ever here<br /> +The once-loved evil grows, only the tale<br /> +Of penalties grown greater hourly dwarfs<br /> +The accomplished sum of wrong. And yet desire<br /> +Pursues me still—sick, impotent desire,<br /> +Fiercer than that of earth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i28">We are ourselves<br /> +Our heaven and hell, the joy, the penalty,<br /> +The yearning, the fruition. Earth is hell<br /> +Or heaven, and yet not only earth; but still,<br /> +After the swift soul leaves the gates of death,<br /> +The pain grows deeper and less mixed, the joy<br /> +Purer and less alloyed, and we are damned<br /> +Or blest, as we have lived."</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">He ceased, with a wail<br /> +Like some complaining wind among the pines<br /> +Or pent among the fretful ocean caves,<br /> +A sick, sad sound.</p> + +<p class="v0 i19">Then as I looked, I saw<br /> +His eyes glare horribly, his dry parched lips<br /> +Open, his weary hands stretch idly forth<br /> +As if to clutch the air—infinite pain<br /> +And mockery of hope. "Seest thou them now?"<br /> +He said. "I thirst, I parch, I famish, yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span><br /> +They still elude me, fair and tempting fruit<br /> +And cooling waters. Now they come again.<br /> +See, they are in my grasp, they are at my lips,<br /> +Now I shall quench me. Nay, again they fly<br /> +And mock me. Seest thou them, or am I shut<br /> +From hope for ever, hungering, thirsting still,<br /> +A madman and in Hell?"</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">And as I passed<br /> +In horror, his large eyes and straining hands<br /> +Froze all my soul with pity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i29">Then it was<br /> +A woman whom I saw: a dark pale Queen,<br /> +With passion in her eyes, and fear and pain<br /> +Holding her steadfast gaze, like one who sees<br /> +Some dreadful deed of wrong worked out and knows<br /> +Himself the cause, yet now is powerless<br /> +To stay the wrong he would.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Seeing me gaze<br /> +In pity on her woe, she turned and spake<br /> +With a low wailing voice—</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">"Thou well mayst gaze<br /> +With horror on me, sir, for I am lost;<br /> +I have shed the innocent blood, long years ago,<br /> +Nay, centuries of pain. I have shed the blood<br /> +Of him I loved, and found for recompense<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span><br /> +But self-inflicted death and age-long woe,<br /> +Which purges not my sin. And yet not I<br /> +It was who did it, but the gods, who took<br /> +A woman's loveless heart and tortured it<br /> +With love as with a fire. It was not I<br /> +Who slew my love, but Fate. Fate 'twas which brought<br /> +My love and me together, Fate which barred<br /> +The path of blameless love, yet set Love's flame<br /> +To burn and smoulder in a hopeless heart,<br /> +Where no relief might come.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">The King was old,<br /> +And I a girl. 'Tis an old tale which runs<br /> +Thro' the sad ages, and 'twas mine. He had spent<br /> +His sum of love long since, and I—I knew not<br /> +A breath of Love as yet. Ah, it is strange<br /> +To lose the sense of maidenhood, drink deep<br /> +Of life to the very dregs, and yet not know<br /> +A flutter of Love's wing. Love takes no thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span><br /> +For pomp, or palace, or respect of men;<br /> +Nor always in the stately marriage bed,<br /> +Closed round by silken curtains, laid on down,<br /> +Nestles a rosy form; but 'mid wild flowers<br /> +Or desert tents, or in the hind's low cot,<br /> +Beneath the aspect of the unconscious stars,<br /> +Dwells all night and is blest.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">My love, my life!<br /> +He was the old man's son, a fair white soul—<br /> +Not like the others, whom the fire of youth<br /> +Burns like a flame and hurries unrestrained<br /> +Thro' riotous days and nights, but virginal<br /> +And pure as any maid. No wandering glance<br /> +He deigned for all the maidens young and fair<br /> +Who sought their Prince's eye. But evermore,<br /> +Upon the high lawns wandering alone,<br /> +He dwelt unwed; weaving to Artemis,<br /> +Fairest of all Olympian maids, a wreath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span><br /> +From the unpolluted meads, where never herd<br /> +Drives his white flock, nor ever scythe has come,<br /> +But the bee sails upon unfettered wing<br /> +Over the spring-like lawns, and Purity<br /> +Waters them with soft dews;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and yet he showed<br /> +Of all his peers most manly—heart and soul<br /> +A very man, tender and true, and strong<br /> +And pitiful, and in his limbs and mien<br /> +Fair as Apollo's self.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">It was at first<br /> +In Trœzen that I saw him, when he came<br /> +To greet his sire. Amid the crowd of youths<br /> +He showed a Prince indeed; yet knew I not<br /> +Whom 'twas I saw, nor that I held the place<br /> +Which was his mother's, only from the throng<br /> +Love, with a barbed dart aiming, pierced my heart<br /> +Ere yet I knew what ailed me. Every glance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span><br /> +Fired me; the youthful grace, the tall straight limbs,<br /> +The swelling sinewy arms, the large dark eyes<br /> +Tender yet full of passion, the thick locks<br /> +Tossed from his brow, the lip and cheek which bore<br /> +The down of early manhood, seemed to feed<br /> +My heart with short-lived joy.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">For when he stood<br /> +Forth from the throng and knelt before his sire,<br /> +Then raised his eyes to mine, I felt the curse<br /> +Of Aphrodité burn me, as it burned<br /> +My mother before me, and I dared not meet<br /> +His innocent, frank young eyes.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">Said I then young?<br /> +Ay, but not young as mine. For I had known<br /> +The secret things of life, which age the soul<br /> +In a moment, writing on its front their mark<br /> +'Too early ripe;' and he was innocent,<br /> +My spouse in fitted years, within whose arms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span><br /> +I had defied the world.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">I turned away<br /> +Like some white bird that leaves the flock, which sails<br /> +High in mid air above the haunts of men,<br /> +Feeling some little dart within her breast,<br /> +Not death, but like to death, and slowly sinks<br /> +Down to the earth alone, and bears her hurt<br /> +Unseen, by herbless sand and bitter pool,<br /> +And pines until the end.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">Even from that day<br /> +I strove to gain his love. Nay, 'twas not I,<br /> +But the cruel gods who drove me. Day by day<br /> +We were together; for in days of old<br /> +Women were free, not pent in gilded jails<br /> +As afterwards, but free to walk alone,<br /> +For good or evil, free. I hardly took<br /> +Thought for my spouse, the King. For I had found<br /> +My love at last: what matter if it were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span><br /> +A guilty love? Yet love is love indeed,<br /> +Stronger than heaven or hell. Day after day<br /> +I set myself to tempt him from his proud<br /> +And innocent way, for I had spurned aside<br /> +Care for the gods or men—all but my love.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">What need to tell the tale? Was it a sigh,<br /> +A blush, a momentary glance, which brought<br /> +Assurance of my triumph? It is long<br /> +Since I have lived, I cannot tell; I know<br /> +Only the penalty of death and hell<br /> +Which followed on my sin. I knew he loved.<br /> +It was not wonderful, seeing that we dwelt<br /> +A boy and girl together. I was fair,<br /> +And Eros fired my eyes and lent my voice<br /> +His own soft tremulous tones. But when our souls<br /> +Trembled upon the verge, and fancy feigned<br /> +His arms around me as we fled alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span><br /> +To some free land of exile, lo! a scroll:<br /> +'Dearest, it may not be; I fear the Gods;<br /> +We dare not do this wrong. I go from hence<br /> +And see thy face no more. Farewell! Forget<br /> +The love we may not own; go, seek for both<br /> +Forgiveness from the gods.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">When I read the words,<br /> +The cruel words, methought my heart stood still,<br /> +And when the ebbing life returned I seemed<br /> +To have lost all thought of Love. Only Revenge<br /> +Dwelt with me still, the fiercer that I knew<br /> +My long-prized hope, which came so near success,<br /> +Snatched from me and for ever.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">When I rose<br /> +From my deep swoon, I bade a messenger<br /> +Go, seek the King for me. He came and sate<br /> +Beside my couch, and all the doors were closed,<br /> +And all withdrawn. Then with the liar's art,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span><br /> +And hypocrite tears, and feigned reluctancy,<br /> +And all the subtle wiles a woman draws<br /> +From the armoury of hate, I did instil<br /> +The poison to his soul. Cunning devices,<br /> +Feigned sorrow, mention of his son, regrets,<br /> +And half confessions—these, with hateful skill<br /> +Confused together, drove the old man's soul<br /> +To frenzy; and I watched him, with a sneer,<br /> +Turn to a dotard thirsting for the life<br /> +Of his own child. But how to do the deed,<br /> +Yet shed no blood, nor know the people's hate,<br /> +Who loved the Prince, I knew not.</p> + +<p class="v0 i34">Till one day<br /> +The old man, looking out upon the sea,<br /> +Besought the dread Poseidon to avenge<br /> +The treachery of his son. Even as we stood<br /> +Gazing upon the breathless blue, a cloud<br /> +Rose from the deep, a little fleecy cloud,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span><br /> +Which sudden grew and grew, and turned the blue<br /> +To purple; and a swift wind rose and sang<br /> +Higher and higher, and the wine-dark sea<br /> +Grew ruffled, and within the circling bay<br /> +The tiny ripples, stealing up the sand,<br /> +Plunged loud with manes of foam, until they swelled<br /> +To misty surges thundering on the shore.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then at the old man's elbow as I stood,<br /> +A deep dark thought, sent by the powers of ill,<br /> +Answering, as now I know, my own black hate<br /> +And not my poor dupe's anger, fired my soul<br /> +And bade me speak. 'The god has heard thy prayer,'<br /> +I whispered; 'See the surge which wakes and swells<br /> +To fury; well I know what things shall be.<br /> +It is Poseidon's voice sounds in the storm<br /> +And sends thy vengeance. Young Hippolytus<br /> +Loves, as thou knowest, on the yellow sand,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><br /> +Hard by the rippled margin of the wave,<br /> +To urge his flying steeds. Bid him go forth—<br /> +He will obey—and see what recompense<br /> +The god will send his wrong.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">In the old man's eyes<br /> +A watery gleam of malice played awhile—<br /> +I hated him for it—and he bade his son<br /> +Drive forth his chariot on the sand, and yoke<br /> +His three young fiery steeds.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">And still the storm<br /> +Blew fiercer and more fierce, and the white crests<br /> +Plunged on the strand, and the high promontories<br /> +Resounded counter-stricken, and a mist<br /> +Of foam, blown landward, hid the sounding shore.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then saw I him come forth and bid them yoke<br /> +His untamed colts. I had not seen his face<br /> +Since that last day, but, seeing him, I felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span><br /> +The old love spring anew, yet mixed with hate—<br /> +A storm of warring passions. Tho' I knew<br /> +What end should come, yet would I speak no word<br /> +That might avert it. The old man looked forth;<br /> +I think he had well-nigh forgotten all<br /> +The wrong he fancied and the doom he prayed,<br /> +All but the father's pride in the strong son,<br /> +Who was so young and bold. I saw a smile<br /> +Upon the dotard's face, when now the steeds<br /> +Were harnessed and the chariot, on the sand<br /> +Along the circling margin of the bay,<br /> +Flew, swift as light. A sudden gleam of sun<br /> +Flashed on the silver harness as it went,<br /> +Burned on the brazen axles of the wheels,<br /> +And on the golden fillets of the Prince<br /> +Doubled the gold. Sometimes a larger wave<br /> +Would dash in mist around him, and in fear<br /> +The rearing coursers plunged, and then again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span><br /> +The strong young arm constrained them, and they flashed<br /> +To where the wave-worn foreland ends the bay.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And then he turned his chariot, a bright speck<br /> +Now seen, now hidden, but always, tho' the surge<br /> +Broke round it, safe; emerging like a star<br /> +From the white clouds of foam. And as I watched,<br /> +Speaking no word, and breathing scarce a breath,<br /> +I saw the firm limbs strongly set apart<br /> +Upon the chariot, and the reins held high,<br /> +And the proud head bent forward, with long locks<br /> +Streaming behind, as nearer and more near<br /> +The swift team rushed—until, with a half joy,<br /> +It seemed as if my love might yet elude<br /> +The slow sure anger of the god, dull wrath<br /> +Swayed by a woman's lie.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">But on the verge,<br /> +As I cast my eyes, a vast and purple wall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span><br /> +Swelled swiftly towards the land; the lesser waves<br /> +Sank as it came, and to its toppling crest<br /> +The spume-flecked waters, from the strand drawn back,<br /> +Left dry the yellow shore. Onward it came,<br /> +Hoarse, capped with breaking foam, lurid, immense,<br /> +Rearing its dreadful height. The chariot sped<br /> +Nearer and nearer. I could see my love<br /> +With the light of victory in his eyes, the smile<br /> +Of daring on his lips: so near he came<br /> +To where the marble palace-wall confined<br /> +The narrow strip of beach—his brave young eyes<br /> +Fixed steadfast on the goal, in the pride of life,<br /> +Without a thought of death. I strove to cry,<br /> +But terror choked my breath. Then, like a bull<br /> +Upon the windy level of the plain<br /> +Lashing himself to rage, the furious wave,<br /> +Poising itself a moment, tossing high<br /> +Its wind-vexed crest, dashed downward on the strand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span><br /> +With a stamp, with a rush, with a roar.</p> + +<p class="v0 i40">And when I looked,<br /> +The shore, the fields, the plain, were one white sea<br /> +Of churning, seething foam—chariot and steeds<br /> +Gone, and my darling on the wave's white crest<br /> +Tossed high, whirled down, beaten, and bruised, and flung,<br /> +Dying upon the marble.</p> + +<p class="v1 i23">My great love<br /> +Sprang up redoubled, and cast out my hate<br /> +And spurned all thought of fear; and down the stair<br /> +I hurried, and upon the bleeding form<br /> +I threw myself, and raised his head, and clasped<br /> +His body to mine, and kissed him on the lips,<br /> +And in his dying ear confessed my wrong,<br /> +And saw the horror in his dying eyes<br /> +And knew that I was damned. And when he breathed<br /> +His last pure breath, I rose and slowly spake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>—<br /> +Turned to a Fury now by love and pain—<br /> +To the old man who knelt, while all the throng<br /> +Could hear my secret: 'See, thou fool, I am<br /> +The murderess of thy son, and thou my dupe,<br /> +Thou and thy gods. See, he was innocent;<br /> +I murdered him for love. I scorn ye all,<br /> +Thee and thy gods together, who are deceived<br /> +By a woman's lying tongue! Oh, doting fool,<br /> +To hate thy own! And ye, false powers, which punish<br /> +The innocent, and let the guilty soul<br /> +Escape unscathed, I hate ye all—I curse,<br /> +I loathe you!'</p> + +<p class="v0 i15">Then I stooped and kissed my love,<br /> +And left them in amaze; and up the stair<br /> +Swept slowly to my chamber, and therein,<br /> +Hating my life and cursing men and gods,<br /> +I did myself to death.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">But even here,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span><br /> +I find my punishment. Oh, dreadful doom<br /> +Of souls like mine! To see their evil done<br /> +Always before their eyes, the one dread scene<br /> +Of horror. See, the dark wave on the verge<br /> +Towers horrible, and he—— Oh, Love, my Love!<br /> +Safety is near! quick! quicker! urge them on!<br /> +Thou wilt 'scape it yet!—Nay, nay, it bursts on him!<br /> +I have shed the innocent blood! Oh, dreadful gaze<br /> +Within his glazing eyes! Hide them, ye gods!<br /> +Hide them! I cannot bear them. Quick! a dagger!<br /> +I will lose their glare in death. Nay, die I cannot;<br /> +I must endure and live—Death brings not peace<br /> +To the lost souls in Hell."</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">And her eyes stared,<br /> +Rounded with horror, and she stooped and gazed<br /> +So eagerly, and pressed her fevered hands<br /> +Upon her trembling forehead with such pain<br /> +As drives the gazer mad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i25">Then as I passed,<br /> +I marked against the hardly dawning sky<br /> +A toilsome figure standing, bent and strained,<br /> +Before a rocky mass, which with great pain<br /> +And agony of labour it would thrust<br /> +Up a steep hill. But when upon the crest<br /> +It poised a moment, then I held my breath<br /> +With dread, for, lo! the poor feet seemed to clutch<br /> +The hillside as in fear, and the poor hands<br /> +With hopeless fingers pressed into the stone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span><br /> +In agony, and the limbs stiffened, and a cry<br /> +Like some strong swimmer's, whom the mightier stream<br /> +Sweeps downward, and he sees his children's eyes<br /> +Upon the bank; broke from him; and at last,<br /> +After long struggles of despair, the limbs<br /> +Relaxed, and as I closed my fearful eyes,<br /> +Seeing the inevitable doom—a crash,<br /> +A horrible thunderous noise, as down the steep<br /> +The shameless fragment leapt. From crag to crag<br /> +It bounded ever swifter, striking fire<br /> +And wrapt in smoke, as to the lowest depths<br /> +Of the vale it tore, and seemed to take with it<br /> +The miserable form whose painful gaze<br /> +I caught, as with the great rock whirled and dashed<br /> +Downward, and marking every crag with gore<br /> +And long gray hairs, it plunged, yet living still,<br /> +To the black hollow; and then a silence came<br /> +More dreadful than the noise, and a low groan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span><br /> +Was all that I could hear.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">When to the foot<br /> +Of the dark steep I hurried, half in hope<br /> +To find the victim dead—not recognizing<br /> +The undying life of Hell—I seemed to see<br /> +An aged man, bruised, bleeding, with gray hairs,<br /> +And eyes from which the cunning leer of greed<br /> +Was scarcely yet gone out.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">A crafty voice<br /> +It was that answered me, the voice of guile<br /> +Part purified by pain:</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">"There comes not death<br /> +To those who live in Hell, nor hardly pause<br /> +Of suffering longer than may serve to make<br /> +The pain renewed, more piercing. Long ago,<br /> +I thought that I had cheated Death, and now<br /> +I seek him; but he comes not, nor know I<br /> +If ever he will hear me. Whence art thou?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span><br /> +Comest thou from earthly air, or whence? What power<br /> +Has brought thee hither? For I know indeed<br /> +Thou art not lost as I; for never here<br /> +I look upon a human face, nor see<br /> +The ghosts who doubtless here on every side<br /> +Suffer a common pain, only at times<br /> +I hear the echo of a shriek far off,<br /> +Like some faint ghost of woe which fills the pause<br /> +And interval of suffering; but from whom<br /> +The voice may come, or whence, I know not, only<br /> +The air teems with vague pain, which doth distract<br /> +The ear when for a moment comes surcease<br /> +Of agony, and the sense of effort spent<br /> +In vain and fruitless labour, and the pang<br /> +Of long-deferred defeat, which waits and takes<br /> +The world-worn heart, and maddens it when all—<br /> +Heaven, conscience, happiness, are staked and lost<br /> +For gains which still elude it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i32">Yet 'twas sweet,<br /> +A King in early youth, when pleasure is sweet,<br /> +To live the fair successful years, and know<br /> +The envy and respect of men. I cared<br /> +For none of youth's delights: the dance, the song,<br /> +Allured me not; the smooth soft ways of sense<br /> +Tempted me not at all. I could despise<br /> +The follies that I shared not, spending all<br /> +The long laborious days in toilsome schemes<br /> +To compass honour and wealth, and, as I grew<br /> +In name and fame, finding my hoarded gains<br /> +Transmuted into Power. The seas were white<br /> +With laden argosies, and all were mine.<br /> +The sheltering moles defied the wintry storms,<br /> +And all were mine. The marble aqueducts,<br /> +The costly bridges, all were mine. Fair roads<br /> +Wound round and round the hills—my work. The gods<br /> +Alone I heeded not, nor cared at all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span><br /> +For aught but that my eyes and ears might take,<br /> +Spurning invisible things, nor built I to them<br /> +Temple or shrine, wrapt up in life, set round<br /> +With earthly blessings like a god. I rose<br /> +To such excess of weal and fame and pride,<br /> +My people held me god-like. I grew drunk<br /> +With too great power, scoffing at men and gods,<br /> +Careless of both, but not averse to fling<br /> +To those too weak themselves, what benefits<br /> +My larger wisdom spurned.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">Then suddenly<br /> +I knew the pain of failure. Summer storms<br /> +Sucked down my fleets even within sight of port.<br /> +A grievous blight wasted the harvest-fields,<br /> +Mocking my hopes of gain. Wars came and drained<br /> +My store, and I grew needy, knowing now<br /> +The hell of stronger souls, the loss of power<br /> +Wherein they exulted once. There comes no pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span><br /> +Deeper than to have known delight of power,<br /> +And then to lose it all. But I, I would not<br /> +Sit tame beneath defeat, trimming my sails<br /> +To wait the breeze of Fortune—fickle breath<br /> +Which perhaps might breathe no more—but chose instead<br /> +By rash conceit and bolder enterprise<br /> +To win her aid again. I had no thought<br /> +Of selfish gain, only to be and act<br /> +As a god to those, feeding my sum of pride<br /> +With acted good.</p> + +<p class="v0 i17">But evermore defeat<br /> +Dogged me, and evermore my people grew<br /> +To doubt me, seeing no more the wealth, the force,<br /> +Which once they worshipped. Then the lust of power<br /> +Loved, not for sake of others, but itself,<br /> +Grew on me, and the pride which can dare all,<br /> +Save failure only, seized me. Evil finds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span><br /> +Its ready chance. There were rich argosies<br /> +Upon the seas: I sank them, ship and crew,<br /> +In the unbetraying ocean. Wayfarers<br /> +Crossing the passes with rich merchandise<br /> +My creatures, hid behind the crags, o'erwhelmed<br /> +With rocks hurled downward. Yet I spent my gains<br /> +For the public weal, not otherwise; and they,<br /> +The careless people, took the piteous spoils<br /> +Which cost the lives of many, and a man's soul,<br /> +And blessed the giver. Empty venal blessings,<br /> +Which sting more deep than curses!</p> + +<p class="v0 i35">For awhile<br /> +I was content with this, but at the last<br /> +A great contempt and hatred of them took me,<br /> +The base, vile churls! Why should I stain my soul<br /> +For such as those—dogs that would fawn and lick<br /> +The hand that fed them, but, if food should fail,<br /> +Would turn and rend me? I would none of them;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span><br /> +I would grow rich and happy, being indeed<br /> +Godlike in brain to such. So with all craft,<br /> +And guile, and violence I enriched me, loading<br /> +My treasuries with gold. My deep-laid schemes<br /> +Of gain engrossed the long laborious days,<br /> +Stretched far into the night. Enjoy, I might not,<br /> +Seeing it was all to do, and life so brief<br /> +That ere a man might gain the goal he would,<br /> +Lo! Age, and with it Death, and so an end!<br /> +For all the tales of the indignant gods,<br /> +What were they but the priests'? I had myself<br /> +Broken all oaths; long time deceived and ruined<br /> +With every phase of fraud the pious fools<br /> +Whom oath-sworn Justice bound; battened on blood<br /> +And what was I the worse? How should the gods<br /> +Bear rule if I were happy? Death alone<br /> +Was certain. Therefore must I haste to heap<br /> +Treasure sufficient for my need, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span><br /> +Enjoy the gathered good.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">But gradually<br /> +There came—not great disasters which might crush<br /> +All hope, but petty checks which did decrease<br /> +My store, and left my labour vain, and me<br /> +Unwilling to enjoy; and gradually<br /> +I felt the chill approach of age, which stole<br /> +Higher and higher on me, till the life,<br /> +As in a paralytic, left my limbs<br /> +And heart, and mounted upwards to my brain,<br /> +Its last resort, and rested there awhile<br /> +Ere it should spread its wings. But even thus,<br /> +Tho' powerless to enjoy, the insatiate greed<br /> +And thirst of power sustained me, and supplied<br /> +Life's spark with some scant fuel, till it seemed,<br /> +Year after year, as if I could not die,<br /> +Holding so fast to life. I grew so old<br /> +That all the comrades of my youth, my prime,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span><br /> +My age, were gone, and I was left alone<br /> +With those who knew me not, bereft of all<br /> +Except my master passion—an old man<br /> +Forlorn, forgotten of the gods and Death.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">So all the people, seeing me grow old<br /> +And prosperous, held me wise, and spread abroad<br /> +Strange fables, growing day by day more strange—<br /> +How I deceived the very gods. They thought<br /> +That I was blest, remembering not the wear<br /> +Of anxious thought, the growing sum of pain,<br /> +The failing ear and eye, the slower limbs,<br /> +Whose briefer name is Age: and yet I trow<br /> +I was not all unhappy, though I knew<br /> +It was too late to enjoy, and though my store<br /> +Increased not as my greed—nay, even sunk down<br /> +A little, year by year. Till, last of all,<br /> +When now my time was come and I had grown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span><br /> +A little tired of living, a trivial hurt<br /> +Laid me upon my bed; and as I mused<br /> +On my long life and all its villanies,<br /> +The wickedness I did, the blood I shed,<br /> +The guile, the frauds of years—they came with news,<br /> +One now, and now another; how my schemes<br /> +Were crushed, my enterprises lost, my toil<br /> +And labour all in vain. Day after day<br /> +They brought these tidings, while I longed to rise<br /> +And stay the tide of ill, and raved to know<br /> +I could not. At the last the added sum<br /> +Of evil, like yon great rock poised awhile<br /> +Uncertain, gathered into one, o'erwhelmed<br /> +My feeble strength, and left me ruined and lost,<br /> +And showed me all I was, and all the depth<br /> +And folly of my sin, and racked my brain,<br /> +And sank me in despair and misery,<br /> +And broke my heart and slew me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i32">Therefore 'tis<br /> +I spend the long, long centuries which have come<br /> +Between me and my sin, in such dread tasks<br /> +As that thou sawest. In the soul I sinned:<br /> +In body and soul I suffer. What I bade<br /> +My minions do to others, that of woe<br /> +I bear myself; and in the pause of ill,<br /> +As now, I know again the bitter pang<br /> +Of failure, which of old pierced thro' my soul<br /> +And left me to despair. The pain of mind<br /> +Is fiercer far than any bodily ill,<br /> +And both are mine—the pang of torture-pain<br /> +Always recurring; and, far worse, the pang<br /> +Of consciousness of black sins sinned in vain—<br /> +The doom of constant failure.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Will, fierce Will!<br /> +Thou parent of unrest and toil and woe,<br /> +Measureless effort! growing day by day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span><br /> +To force strong souls along the giddy steep<br /> +That slopes to the pit of Hell, where effort serves<br /> +Only to speed destruction! Yet I know<br /> +Thou art not, as some hold, the primal curse<br /> +Which doth condemn us; since thou bearest in thee<br /> +No power to satisfy thyself; but rather,<br /> +The spring of act, whereby in earth and heaven<br /> +Both men and gods do breathe and live and are,<br /> +Since Life is Act and not to Do is Death—<br /> +I do not blame thee: but to work in vain<br /> +Is bitterest penalty: to find at last<br /> +The soul all fouled with sin and stained with blood<br /> +In vain; ah, this is hell indeed—the hell<br /> +Of lost and striving souls!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">Then as I passed,<br /> +The halting figure bent itself again<br /> +To the old task, and up the rugged steep<br /> +Thrust the great rock with groanings. Horror chained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span><br /> +My parting footsteps, like a nightmare dream<br /> +Which holds us that we flee not, with wide eyes<br /> +That loathe to see, yet cannot choose but gaze<br /> +Till all be done. Slowly, with dreadful toil<br /> +And struggle and strain, and bleeding hands and knees,<br /> +And more than mortal strength, against the hill<br /> +He pressed, the wretched one! till with long pain<br /> +He trembled on the summit, a gaunt form,<br /> +With that great rock above him, poised and strained,<br /> +Now gaining, now receding, now in act<br /> +To win the summit, now borne down again,<br /> +And then the inevitable crash—the mass<br /> +Leaping from crag to crag. But ere it ceased<br /> +In dreadful silence, and the low groan came,<br /> +My limbs were loosed with one convulsive bound;<br /> +I hid my face within my hands, and fled,<br /> +Surfeit with horror<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i21">Then it was again<br /> +A woman whom I saw, pitiless, stern,<br /> +Bearing the brand of blood—a lithe dark form,<br /> +And cruel eyes which glared beneath the gems<br /> +That argued her a Queen, and on her side<br /> +An ancient stain of gore, which did befoul<br /> +Her royal robe. A murderess in thought<br /> +And dreadful act, who took within the toils<br /> +Her kingly Lord, and slew him of old time<br /> +After burnt Troy. I had no time to speak<br /> +When she shrieked thus:</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">"It doth repent me not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span><br /> +I would 'twere yet to do, and I would do it<br /> +Again a thousand times, if the shed blood<br /> +Might for one hour restore me to the kisses<br /> +Of my Ægisthus. Oh, he was divine,<br /> +My hero, with the godlike locks and eyes<br /> +Of Eros' self! What boots it that they prate<br /> +Of wifely duty, love of spouse or child,<br /> +Honour or pity, when the swift fire takes<br /> +A woman's heart, and burns it out, and leaps<br /> +With fierce forked tongue around it, till it lies<br /> +In ashes, a dead heart, nor aught remains<br /> +Of old affections, naught but the new flame<br /> +Which is unquenched desire?</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">It did not come,<br /> +My blessing, all at once, but the slow fruit<br /> +Of solitude and midnight loneliness,<br /> +And weary waiting for the tardy news<br /> +Of taken Troy. Long years I sate alone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span><br /> +Widowed, within my palace, while my Lord<br /> +Was over seas, waging the accursèd war,<br /> +First of the file of Kings. Year after year<br /> +Came false report, or harder, no report<br /> +Of the great fleet. The summers waxed and waned,<br /> +The wintry surges smote the sounding shores,<br /> +And yet there came no end of it. They brought<br /> +Now hopeless failure, now great victories;<br /> +And all alike were false, all but delay<br /> +And hope deferred, which cometh not, but breaks<br /> +The heart which suffering wrings not.</p> + +<p class="v0 i38">So I bore<br /> +Long time the solitary years, and sought<br /> +To solace the dull days with motherly cares<br /> +For those my Lord had left me. My firstborn,<br /> +Iphigeneia, sailed at first with him<br /> +Upon that fatal voyage, but the young<br /> +Orestes and Electra stayed with me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>—<br /> +Not dear as she was, for the firstborn takes<br /> +The mother's heart, and, with the milk it draws<br /> +From the mother's virgin breast, drains all the love<br /> +It bore, ay, even tho' the sire be dear;<br /> +Much more, then, when he is a King indeed,<br /> +Mighty in war and council, but too high<br /> +To stoop to a woman's love. But she was gone,<br /> +Nor heard I tidings of her, knowing not<br /> +If yet she walked the earth, nor if she bare<br /> +The load of children, even as I had borne<br /> +Her in my opening girlhood, when I leapt<br /> +From child to Queen, but never loved the King.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Thus the slow years rolled onward, till at last<br /> +There came a dreadful rumour—'She is dead,<br /> +Thy daughter, years ago. The cruel priests<br /> +Clamoured for blood; the stern cold Kings stood round<br /> +Without a tear, and he, her sire, with them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span><br /> +To see a virgin bleed. They cut with knives<br /> +The taper girlish throat; they watched the blood<br /> +Drip slowly on the sand, and the young life<br /> +Meek as a lamb come to the sacrifice<br /> +To appease the angry gods.' And he, the King,<br /> +Her father, stood by too, and saw them do it,<br /> +The wickedness, breathing no word of wrath,<br /> +Till all was done! The cowards! the dull cowards!<br /> +I would some black storm, bursting suddenly,<br /> +Had whelmed them and their fleets, ere yet they dared<br /> +To waste an innocent life!</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">I had gone mad,<br /> +I know it, but for him, my love, my dear,<br /> +My fair sweet love. He came to comfort me<br /> +With words of friendship, holding that my Lord<br /> +Was bound, perhaps, to let her die—'The gods<br /> +Were ofttimes hard to appease—or was it indeed<br /> +The priests who asked it? Were there any gods?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span><br /> +Or only phantoms, creatures of the brain,<br /> +Born of the fears of men, the greed of priests,<br /> +Useful to govern women? Had he been<br /> +Lord of the fleet, not all the soothsayers<br /> +Who ever frighted cowards should have brought<br /> +His soul to such black depths.' I hearkening to him<br /> +As 'twere my own thought grown articulate,<br /> +Found my grief turn to hate, and hate to love—<br /> +Hate of my Lord, love of the voice which spoke<br /> +Such dear and comfortable words. And thus,<br /> +Love to a storm of passion growing, swept<br /> +My wounded soul and dried my tears, as dries<br /> +The hot sirocco all the bitter pools<br /> +Of salt among the sand. I never knew<br /> +True love before; I was a child, no more,<br /> +When the King cast his eyes on me. What is it<br /> +To have borne the weight of offspring 'neath the zone,<br /> +If Love be not their sire; or live long years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span><br /> +Of commerce, not of love? Better a day<br /> +Of Passion than the long unlovely years<br /> +Of wifely duty, when Love cometh not<br /> +To wake the barren days!</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">And yet at first<br /> +I hesitated long, nor would embrace<br /> +The blessing that was mine. We are hedged round,<br /> +We women, by such close-drawn ordinances,<br /> +Set round us by our tyrants, that we fear<br /> +To overstep a hand's breadth the dull bounds<br /> +Of custom; but at last Love, waking in me,<br /> +Burst all my chains asunder, and I lived<br /> +For naught but Love.</p> + +<p class="v0 i21">My son, the young Orestes,<br /> +I sent far off; my girl Electra only<br /> +Remained, too young to doubt me, and I knew<br /> +At last what 'twas to live.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">So the swift years<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span><br /> +Fleeted and found me happy, till the dark<br /> +Ill-omened day when Rumour, thousand-tongued,<br /> +Whispered of taken Troy; and from my dream<br /> +Of happiness, sudden I woke, and knew<br /> +The coming retribution. We had grown<br /> +Too loving for concealment, and our tale<br /> +Of mutual love was bruited far and wide<br /> +Through Argos. All the gossips bruited it,<br /> +And were all tongue to tell it to the King<br /> +When he should come. And should the cold proud Lord<br /> +I never loved, the murderer of my girl,<br /> +Come 'twixt my love and me? A swift resolve<br /> +Flashed through me pondering on it: Love for Love<br /> +And Blood for Blood—the simple golden rule<br /> +Taught by the elder gods.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">When I had taken<br /> +My fixed resolve, I grew impatient for it,<br /> +Counting the laggard days. Oh, it was sweet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span><br /> +To simulate the yearning of a wife<br /> +Long parted from her Lord, and mock the fools<br /> +Who dogged each look and word, and but for fear<br /> +Had torn me from my throne—the pies, the jays,<br /> +The impotent chatterers, who thought by words<br /> +To stay me in the act! 'Twas sweet to mock them<br /> +And read distrust within their eyes, when I,<br /> +Knowing my purpose, bade them quick prepare<br /> +All fitting honours for the King, and knew<br /> +They dared not disobey—oh, 'twas enough<br /> +To wing the slow-paced hours.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">But when at last<br /> +I saw his sails upon the verge, and then<br /> +The sea-worn ship, and marked his face grown old,<br /> +The body a little bent, which was so straight,<br /> +The thin gray hairs which were the raven locks<br /> +Of manhood when he went, I felt a moment<br /> +I could not do the deed. But when I saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span><br /> +The beautiful sad woman come with him,<br /> +The future in her eyes, and her sad voice<br /> +Proclaimed the tale of doom, two thoughts at once<br /> +Assailed me, bidding me despatch with a blow<br /> +Him and his mistress, making sure the will<br /> +Of fate, and my revenge.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">Oh, it was strange<br /> +To see all happen as we planned; as 'twere<br /> +Some drama oft rehearsed, wherein each step,<br /> +Each word, is so prepared, the poorest player<br /> +Knows his turn come to do—the solemn landing—<br /> +The ride to the palace gate—the courtesies<br /> +Of welcome—the mute crowds without—the bath<br /> +Prepared within—the precious circling folds<br /> +Of tissue stretched around him, shutting out<br /> +The gaze, and folding helpless like a net<br /> +The mighty limbs—the battle-axe laid down<br /> +Against the wall, and I, his wife and Queen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span><br /> +Alone with him, waiting and watching still,<br /> +Till the woman shrieked without. Then with swift step<br /> +I seized the axe, and struck him as he lay<br /> +Helpless, once, twice, and thrice—once for my girl,<br /> +Once for my love, once for the woman, and all<br /> +For Fate and my Revenge!</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">He gave a groan,<br /> +Once only, as I thought he might; and then<br /> +No sound but the quick gurgling of the blood,<br /> +As it flowed from him in streams, and turned the pure<br /> +And limpid water of the bath to red—<br /> +I had not looked for that—it flowed and flowed,<br /> +And seemed to madden me to look on it,<br /> +Until my love with hands bloody as mine,<br /> +But with the woman's blood, rushed in, and eyes<br /> +Rounded with horror; and we turned to go,<br /> +And left the dead alone.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">But happiness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span><br /> +Still mocked me, and a doubt unknown before<br /> +Came on me, and amid the silken shows<br /> +And luxury of power I seemed to see<br /> +Another answer to my riddle of life<br /> +Than that I gave myself, and it was 'murder;'<br /> +And in my people's sullen mien and eyes,<br /> +'Murder;' and in the mirror, when I looked,<br /> +'Murder' glared out, and terror lest my son<br /> +Returning, grown to manhood, should avenge<br /> +His father's blood. For somehow, as 'twould seem,<br /> +The gods, if gods there be, or the stern Fate<br /> +Which doth direct our little lives, do filch<br /> +Our happiness—though bright with Love's own ray,<br /> +There comes a cloud which veils it. Yet, indeed,<br /> +My days were happy. I repent me not;<br /> +I would wade through seas of blood to know again<br /> +Those fierce delights once more.</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">But my young girl<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span><br /> +Electra, grown to woman, turned from me<br /> +Her modest maiden eyes, nor loved to set<br /> +Her kiss upon my cheek, but, all distraught<br /> +With secret care, hid her from all the pomps<br /> +And revelries which did befit her youth,<br /> +Walking alone; and often at the tomb<br /> +Of her lost sire they found her, pouring out<br /> +Libations to the dead. And evermore<br /> +I did bethink me of my son Orestes,<br /> +Who now should be a man; and yearned sometimes<br /> +To see his face, yet feared lest from his eyes<br /> +His father's soul should smite me.</p> + +<p class="v0 i35">So I lived<br /> +Happy and yet unquiet—a stern voice<br /> +Speaking of doom, which long time softer notes<br /> +Of careless weal, the music that doth spring<br /> +From the fair harmonies of life and love,<br /> +Would drown in their own concord. This at times<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span><br /> +Nay, day by day, stronger and dreadfuller,<br /> +With dominant accent, marred the sounds of joy<br /> +By one prevailing discord. So at length<br /> +I came to lose the Present in the dread<br /> +Of what might come; the penalty that waits<br /> +Upon successful sin; who, having sinned,<br /> +Had missed my sin's reward.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Until one day<br /> +I, looking from my palace casement, saw<br /> +A humble suppliant, clad in pilgrim garb,<br /> +Approach the marble stair. A sudden throb<br /> +Thrilled thro' me, and the mother's heart went forth<br /> +Thro' all disguise of garb and rank and years,<br /> +Knowing my son. How fair he was, how tall<br /> +And vigorous, my boy! What strong straight limbs<br /> +And noble port! How beautiful the shade<br /> +Of manhood on his lip! I longed to burst<br /> +From my chamber down, yearning to throw myself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span><br /> +Upon his neck within the palace court,<br /> +Before the guards—spurning my queenly rank,<br /> +All but my motherhood. And then a chill<br /> +Of doubt o'erspread me, knowing what a gulf<br /> +Fate set between our lives, impassable<br /> +As that great gulf which yawns 'twixt life and death<br /> +And 'twixt this Hell and Heaven. I shrank back,<br /> +And turned to think a moment, half in fear,<br /> +And half in pain; dividing the swift mind,<br /> +Yet all in love.</p> + +<p class="v0 i17">Then came a cry, a groan,<br /> +From the inner court, the clash of swords, the fall<br /> +Of a body on the pavement; and one cried,<br /> +'The King is dead, slain by the young Orestes,<br /> +Who cometh hither.' With the word, the door<br /> +Flew open, and my son stood straight before me,<br /> +His drawn sword dripping blood. Oh, he was fair<br /> +And terrible to see, when from his limbs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span><br /> +The suppliant's mantle fallen, left the mail<br /> +And arms of a young warrior. Love and Hate,<br /> +Which are the offspring of a common sire,<br /> +Strove for the mastery, till within his eyes<br /> +I saw his father's ghost glare unappeased<br /> +From out Love's casements.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">Then I knew my fate<br /> +And his—mine to be slain by my son's hand,<br /> +And his to slay me, since the Furies drave<br /> +Our lives to one destruction; and I took<br /> +His point within my breast.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">But I praise not<br /> +The selfish, careless gods who wrecked our lives,<br /> +Making the King the murderer of his girl,<br /> +And me his murderess; making my son<br /> +The murderer of his mother and her love—<br /> +A mystery of blood!—I curse them all,<br /> +The careless Forces, sitting far withdrawn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span><br /> +Upon the heights of Space, taking men's lives<br /> +For playthings, and deriding as in sport<br /> +Our happiness and woe—I curse them all.<br /> +We have a right to joy; we have a right,<br /> +I say, as they have. Let them stand confessed<br /> +The puppets that they are—too weak to give<br /> +The good they feign to love, since Fate, too strong<br /> +For them as us, beyond their painted sky,<br /> +Sits and derides them, too. I curse Fate too,<br /> +The deaf blind Fury, taking human souls<br /> +And crushing them, as a dull fretful child<br /> +Crushes its toys and knows not with what skill<br /> +Those feeble forms are feigned.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">I curse, I loathe,<br /> +I spit on them. It doth repent me not.<br /> +I would 'twere yet to do. I have lived my life.<br /> +I have loved. See, there he lies within the bath,<br /> +And thus I smite him! thus! Didst hear him groan?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span><br /> +Oh, vengeance, thou art sweet! What, living still?<br /> +Ah me! we cannot die! Come, torture me,<br /> +Ye Furies—for I love not soothing words—<br /> +As once ye did my son. Ye miserable<br /> +Blind ministers of Hell, I do defy you;<br /> +Not all your torments can undo the Past<br /> +Of Passion and of Love!"</p> + +<p class="v1 i25">Even as she spake<br /> +There came a viewless trouble in the air,<br /> +Which took her, and a sweep of wings unseen,<br /> +And terrible sounds, which swooped on her and hushed<br /> +Her voice, and seemed to occupy her soul<br /> +With horror and despair; and as she passed<br /> +I marked her agonized eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i28">But as I went,<br /> +Full many a dreadful shape of lonely pain<br /> +I saw. What need to tell them? We are filled<br /> +Who live to-day with a more present sense<br /> +Of the great love of God, than those of old<br /> +Who, groping in the dawn of Knowledge, saw<br /> +Only dark shadows of the Unknown; or he,<br /> +First-born of modern singers, who swept deep<br /> +His awful lyre, and woke the voice of song,<br /> +Dumb for long centuries of pain. We dread<br /> +To dwell on those long agonies its sin<br /> +Brings on the offending soul; who hold a creed<br /> +Of deeper Pity, knowing what chains of ill<br /> +Bind round our petty lives. Each phase of woe,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span><br /> +Suffering, and torture which the gloomy thought<br /> +Of bigots feigns for others—all were there.<br /> +One there was stretched upon a rolling wheel,<br /> +Which was the barren round of sense, that still<br /> +Returned upon itself and broke the limbs<br /> +Bound to it day and night. Others I saw<br /> +Doomed, with unceasing toil, to fill the urns<br /> +Whose precious waters sank ere they could slake<br /> +Their burning thirst. Another shapeless soul,<br /> +Full of revolts and hates and tyrannous force,<br /> +The weight of earth, which was its earth-born taint,<br /> +Pressed groaning down, while with fierce beak and claw<br /> +The vulture of remorse, piercing his breast,<br /> +Preyed on his heart. For others, overhead,<br /> +Great crags of rock impending seemed to fall,<br /> +But fell not nor brought peace. I felt my soul<br /> +Blunted with horrors, yearning to escape<br /> +To where, upon the limits of the wood,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span><br /> +Some scanty twilight grew.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">But ere I passed<br /> +From those grim shades a deep voice sounded near,<br /> +A voice without a form.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">"There is an end<br /> +Of all things that thou seest! There is an end<br /> +Of Wrong and Death and Hell! When the long wear<br /> +Of Time and Suffering has effaced the stain<br /> +Ingrown upon the soul, and the cleansed spirit,<br /> +Long ages floating on the wandering winds<br /> +Or rolling deeps of Space, renews itself<br /> +And doth regain its dwelling, and, once more<br /> +Blent with the general order, floats anew<br /> +Upon the stream of Things,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and comes at length,<br /> +After new deaths, to that dim waiting-place<br /> +Thou next shalt see, and with the justified<br /> +White souls awaits the End; or, snatched at once,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span><br /> +If Fate so will, to the pure sphere itself,<br /> +Lives and is blest, and works the Eternal Work<br /> +Whose name and end is Love! There is an end<br /> +Of Wrong and Death and Hell!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Even as I heard,<br /> +I passed from out the shadow of Death and Pain,<br /> +Crying, "There is an end!"</p> +<div><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<p class="center">END OF BOOK I.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<div><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II.<br /> +<br /> +HADES.</h2> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v4 i27">Then from those dark<br /> +And dreadful precincts passing, ghostly fields<br /> +And voiceless took me. A faint twilight veiled<br /> +The leafless, shadowy trees and herbless plains.<br /> +There stirred no breath of air to wake to life<br /> +The slumbers of the world. The sky above<br /> +Was one gray, changeless cloud. There looked no eye<br /> +Of Life from the veiled heavens; but Sleep and Death<br /> +Were round me everywhere. And yet no fear<br /> +Nor horror took me here, where was no pain<br /> +Nor dread, save that strange tremor which assails<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span><br /> +One who in life's hot noontide looks on death<br /> +And knows he too shall die. The ghosts which rose<br /> +From every darkling copse showed thin and pale—<br /> +Thinner and paler far than those I left<br /> +In agony; even as Pity seems to wear<br /> +A thinner form than Fear.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">Not caged alone<br /> +Like those the avenging Furies purged were these,<br /> +Nor that dim land as those black cavernous depths<br /> +Where no hope comes. Fair souls were they and white<br /> +Whom there I saw, waiting as we shall wait,<br /> +The Beatific End, but thin and pale<br /> +As the young faith which made them; touched a little<br /> +By the sad memories of the earth; made glad<br /> +A little by past joys: no more; and wrapt<br /> +In musing on the brief play played by them<br /> +Upon the lively earth, yet ignorant<br /> +Of the long lapse of years, and what had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span><br /> +Since they too breathed Life's air, or if they knew,<br /> +Keeping some echo only; but their pain<br /> +Was fainter than their joy, and a great hope<br /> +Like ours possessed them dimly.</p> + +<p class="v4 i32">First I saw<br /> +A youth who pensive leaned against the trunk<br /> +Of a dark cypress, and an idle flute<br /> +Hung at his side. A sorrowful sad soul,<br /> +Such as sometimes he knows, who meets the gaze,<br /> +Mute, uncomplaining yet most pitiful,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span><br /> +Of one whom nature, by some secret spite,<br /> +Has maimed and left imperfect; or the pain<br /> +Which fills a poet's eyes. Beneath his robe<br /> +I seemed to see the scar of cruel stripes,<br /> +Too hastily concealed. Yet was he not<br /> +Wholly unhappy, but from out the core<br /> +Of suffering flowed a secret spring of joy,<br /> +Which mocked the droughts of Fate, and left him glad<br /> +And glorying in his sorrow. As I gazed<br /> +He raised his silent flute, and, half ashamed,<br /> +Blew a soft note; and as I stayed awhile<br /> +I heard him thus discourse—</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">"The flute is sweet<br /> +To gods and men, but sweeter far the lyre<br /> +And voice of a true singer. Shall I fear<br /> +To tell of that great trial, when I strove<br /> +And Phœbus conquered? Nay, no shame it is<br /> +To bow to an immortal melody;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span><br /> +But glory.</p> + +<p class="v0 i11">Once among the Phrygian hills<br /> +I lay a-musing,—while the silly sheep<br /> +Wandered among the thyme—upon the bank<br /> +Of a clear mountain stream, beneath the pines,<br /> +Safe hidden from the noon. A dreamy haze<br /> +Played on the uplands, but the hills were clear<br /> +In sunlight, and no cloud was on the sky.<br /> +It was the time when a deep silence comes<br /> +Upon the summer earth, and all the birds<br /> +Have ceased from singing, and the world is still<br /> +As midnight, and if any live thing move—<br /> +Some fur-clad creature, or cool gliding snake—<br /> +Within the pipy overgrowth of weeds,<br /> +The ear can catch the rustle, and the trees<br /> +And earth and air are listening. As I lay,<br /> +Faintly, as in a dream, I seemed to hear<br /> +A tender music, like the Æolian chords,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span><br /> +Sound low within the woodland, whence the stream,<br /> +Flowed full, yet silent. Long, with ear to ground,<br /> +I hearkened; and the sweet strain, fuller grown,<br /> +Rounder and clearer came, and danced along<br /> +In mirthful measure now, and now grown grave<br /> +In dying falls, and sweeter and more clear,<br /> +Tripping at nuptials and high revelry,<br /> +Wailing at burials, rapt in soaring thoughts,<br /> +Chanting strange sea-tales full of mystery,<br /> +Touching all chords of being, and life and death,<br /> +Now rose, now sank, and always was divine,<br /> +So strange the music came.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">Till, as I lay<br /> +Enraptured, swift a sudden discord rang,<br /> +And all the sound grew still. A sudden flash,<br /> +As from a sunlit jewel, fired the wood.<br /> +A noise of water smitten, and on the hills<br /> +A fair white fleece of cloud, which swiftly climbed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span><br /> +Into the farthest heaven. Then, as I mused,<br /> +Knowing a parting goddess, straight I saw<br /> +A sudden splendour float upon the stream,<br /> +And knew it for this jewelled flute, which paused<br /> +Before me on an eddy. It I snatched<br /> +Eager, and to my ardent lips I bore<br /> +The wonder, and behold, with the first breath—<br /> +The first warm human breath, the silent strains.<br /> +The half-drowned notes which late the goddess blew,<br /> +Revived, and sounded clearer, sweeter far<br /> +Than mortal skill could make. So with delight<br /> +I left my flocks to wander o'er the wastes<br /> +Untended, and the wolves and eagles seized<br /> +The tender lambs, but I was for my art—<br /> +Nought else; and though the high-pitched notes divine<br /> +Grew faint, yet something lingered, and at last<br /> +So sweet a note I sounded of my skill,<br /> +That all the Phrygian highlands, all the white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span><br /> +Hill villages, were fain to hear the strain,<br /> +Which the mad shepherd made.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">So, overbold,<br /> +And rapt in my new art, at last I dared<br /> +To challenge Phœbus' self.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">'Twas a fair day<br /> +When sudden, on the mountain side, I saw<br /> +A train of fleecy clouds in a white band<br /> +Descending. Down the gleaming pinnacles<br /> +And difficult crags they floated, and the arch,<br /> +Drawn with its thousand rays against the sun,<br /> +Hung like a glory o'er them. Midst the pines<br /> +They clothed themselves with form, and straight I knew<br /> +The immortals. Young Apollo, with his lyre,<br /> +Kissed by the sun, and all the Muses clad<br /> +In robes of gleaming white; then a great fear,<br /> +Yet mixed with joy, assailed me, for I knew<br /> +Myself a mortal equalled with the gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah me! how fair they were! how fair and dread<br /> +In face and form, they showed, when now they came<br /> +Upon the thymy slope, and the young god<br /> +Lay with his choir around him, beautiful<br /> +And bold as Youth and Dawn! There was no cloud<br /> +Upon the sky, nor any sound at all<br /> +When I began my strain. No coward fear<br /> +Of what might come restrained me; but an awe<br /> +Of those immortal eyes and ears divine<br /> +Looking and listening. All the earth seemed full<br /> +Of ears for me alone—the woods, the fields,<br /> +The hills, the skies were listening. Scarce a sound<br /> +My flute might make; such subtle harmonies<br /> +The silence seemed to weave round me and flout<br /> +The half unuttered thought. Till last I blew,<br /> +As now, a hesitating note, and lo!<br /> +The breath divine, lingering on mortal lips,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span><br /> +Hurried my soul along to such fair rhymes,<br /> +Sweeter than wont, that swift I knew my life<br /> +Rise up within me, and expand, and all<br /> +The human, which so nearly is divine,<br /> +Was glorified, and on the Muses' lips,<br /> +And in their lovely eyes, I saw a fair<br /> +Approval, and my soul in me was glad.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For all the strains I blew were strains of love—<br /> +Love striving, love triumphant, love that lies<br /> +Within belovèd arms, and wreathes his locks<br /> +With flowers, and lets the world go by and sings<br /> +Unheeding; and I saw a kindly gleam<br /> +Within the Muses' eyes, who were indeed,<br /> +Women, though god-like.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">But upon the face<br /> +Of the young Sun-god only haughty scorn<br /> +Sate and he swiftly struck his golden lyre,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span><br /> +And played the Song of Life; and lo, I knew<br /> +My strain, how earthy! Oh, to hear the young<br /> +Apollo playing! and the hidden cells<br /> +And chambers of the universe displayed<br /> +Before the charmèd sound! I seemed to float<br /> +In some enchanted cave, where the wave dips<br /> +In from the sunlit sea, and floods its depths<br /> +With reflex hues of heaven. My soul was rapt<br /> +By that I heard, and dared to wish no more<br /> +For victory; and yet because the sound<br /> +Of music that is born of human breath<br /> +Comes straighter from the soul than any strain<br /> +The hand alone can make; therefore I knew,<br /> +With a mixed thrill of pity and delight,<br /> +The nine immortal Sisters hardly touched<br /> +By this fine strain of music, as by mine,<br /> +And when the high lay trembled to its close,<br /> +Still doubting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i16">Then upon the Sun-god's face<br /> +There passed a cold proud smile. He swept his lyre<br /> +Once more, then laid it down, and with clear voice,<br /> +The voice of godhead, sang. Oh, ecstasy,<br /> +Oh happiness of him who once has heard<br /> +Apollo singing! For his ears the sound<br /> +Of grosser music dies, and all the earth<br /> +Is full of subtle undertones, which change<br /> +The listener and transform him. As he sang—<br /> +Of what I know not, but the music touched<br /> +Each chord of being—I felt my secret life<br /> +Stand open to it, as the parched earth yawns<br /> +To drink the summer rain; and at the call<br /> +Of those refreshing waters, all my thought<br /> +Stir from its dark and secret depths, and burst<br /> +Into sweet, odorous flowers, and from their wells<br /> +Deep call to deep, and all the mystery<br /> +Of all that is, laid open. As he sang,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span><br /> +I saw the Nine, with lovely pitying eyes,<br /> +Sign 'He has conquered.' Yet I felt no pang<br /> +Of fear, only deep joy that I had heard<br /> +Such music while I lived, even though it brought<br /> +Torture and death. For what were it to lie<br /> +Sleek, crowned with roses, drinking vulgar praise,<br /> +And surfeited with offerings, the dull gift<br /> +Of ignorant hands—all which I might have known—<br /> +To this diviner failure? Godlike 'tis<br /> +To climb upon the icy ledge, and fall<br /> +Where other footsteps dare not. So I knew<br /> +My fate, and it was near.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">For to a pine<br /> +They bound me willing, and with cruel stripes<br /> +Tore me, and took my life.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">But from my blood<br /> +Was born the stream of song, and on its flow<br /> +My poor flute, to the cool swift river borne,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span><br /> +Floated, and thence adown a lordlier tide<br /> +Into the deep, wide sea. I do not blame<br /> +Phœbus, or Nature which has set this bar<br /> +Betwixt success and failure, for I know<br /> +How far high failure overleaps the bound<br /> +Of low successes. Only suffering draws<br /> +The inner heart of song and can elicit<br /> +The perfumes of the soul. 'Twere not enough<br /> +To fail, for that were happiness to him<br /> +Who ever upward looks with reverent eye<br /> +And seeks but to admire. So, since the race<br /> +Of bards soars highest; as who seek to show<br /> +Our lives as in a glass; therefore it comes<br /> +That suffering weds with song, from him of old,<br /> +Who solaced his blank darkness with his verse;<br /> +Through all the story of neglect and scorn,<br /> +Necessity, sheer hunger, early death,<br /> +Which smite the singer still. Not only those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><br /> +Who keep clear accents of the voice divine<br /> +Are honourable—they are happy, indeed,<br /> +Whate'er the world has held—but those who hear<br /> +Some fair faint echoes, though the crowd be deaf,<br /> +And see the white gods' garments on the hills,<br /> +Which the crowd sees not, though they may not find<br /> +Fit music for their thought; they too are blest,<br /> +Not pitiable. Not from arrogant pride<br /> +Nor over-boldness fail they who have striven<br /> +To tell what they have heard, with voice too weak<br /> +For such high message. More it is than ease,<br /> +Palace and pomp, honours and luxuries,<br /> +To have seen white Presences upon the hills,<br /> +To have heard the voices of the Eternal Gods."</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">So spake he, and I seemed to look on him,<br /> +Whose sad young eyes grow on us from the page<br /> +Of his own verse: who did himself to death:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span><br /> +Or whom the dullard slew: or whom the sea<br /> +Rapt from us: and I passed without a word,<br /> +Slow, grave, with many musings.</p> + +<p class="v4 i32">Then I came<br /> +On one a maiden, meek with folded hands,<br /> +Seated against a rugged face of cliff,<br /> +In silent thought. Anon she raised her arms,<br /> +Her gleaming arms, above her on the rock,<br /> +With hands which clasped each other, till she showed<br /> +As in a statue, and her white robe fell<br /> +Down from her maiden shoulders, and I knew<br /> +The fair form as it seemed chained to the stone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span><br /> +By some invisible gyves, and named her name:<br /> +And then she raised her frightened eyes to mine<br /> +As one who, long expecting some great fear,<br /> +Scarce sees deliverance come. But when she saw<br /> +Only a kindly glance, a softer look<br /> +Came in them, and she answered to my thought<br /> +With a sweet voice and low.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">"I did but muse<br /> +Upon the painful past, long dead and done,<br /> +Forgetting I was saved.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">The angry clouds<br /> +Burst always on the low flat plains, and swept<br /> +The harvest to the ocean; all the land<br /> +Was wasted. A great serpent from the deep,<br /> +Lifting his horrible head above their homes,<br /> +Devoured the children. And the people prayed<br /> +In vain to careless gods.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">On that dear land,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span><br /> +Which now was turned into a sullen sea,<br /> +Gazing in safety from the stately towers<br /> +Of my sire's palace, I, a princess, saw,<br /> +Lapt in soft luxury, within my bower<br /> +The wreck of humble homes come whirling by,<br /> +The drowning, bleating flocks, the bellowing herds,<br /> +The grain scarce husbanded by toiling hands<br /> +Upon the sunlit plain, rush to the sea,<br /> +With floating corpses. On the rain-swept hills<br /> +The remnant of the people huddled close,<br /> +Homeless and starving. All my being was filled<br /> +With pity for them, and I joyed to give<br /> +What food and shelter and compassionate hands<br /> +Of woman might. I took the little ones<br /> +And clasped them shivering to the virgin breast<br /> +Which knew no other touch but theirs, and gave<br /> +Raiment and food. My sire, not stern to me,<br /> +Smiled on me as he saw. My gentle mother,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span><br /> +Who loved me with a closer love than binds<br /> +A mother to her son; and sunned herself<br /> +In my fresh beauty, seeing in my young eyes<br /> +Her own fair vanished youth; doted on me,<br /> +And fain had kept my eyes from the sad sights<br /> +That pained them. But my heart was sad in me,<br /> +Seeing the ineffable miseries of life,<br /> +And that mysterious anger of the gods,<br /> +And helpless to allay them. All in vain<br /> +Were prayer and supplication, all in vain<br /> +The costly victims steamed. The vengeful clouds<br /> +Hid the fierce sky, and still the ruin came.<br /> +And wallowing his grim length within the flood,<br /> +Over the ravaged fields and homeless homes,<br /> +The fell sea-monster raged, sating his jaws<br /> +With blood and rapine.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">Then to the dread shrine<br /> +Of Ammon went the priests, and reverend chiefs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span><br /> +Of all the nation. White robed, at their head,<br /> +Went slow my royal sire. The oracle<br /> +Spoke clear, not as ofttimes in words obscure,<br /> +Ambiguous. And as we stood to meet<br /> +The suppliants—she who bare me, with her head<br /> +Upon my neck—we cheerful and with song<br /> +Welcomed their swift return; auguring well<br /> +From such a quick-sped mission.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">But my sire<br /> +Hid his face from me, and the crowd of priests<br /> +And nobles looked not at us. And no word<br /> +Was spoken till at last one drew a scroll<br /> +And gave it to the queen, who straightway swooned,<br /> +Having read it, on my breast, and then I saw,<br /> +I the young girl whose soft life scarcely knew<br /> +Shadow of sorrow, I whose heart was full<br /> +Of pity for the rest, what doom was mine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">I think I hardly knew in that dread hour<br /> +The fear that came anon; I was transformed<br /> +Into a champion of my race, made strong<br /> +With a new courage, glorying to meet,<br /> +In all the ecstasy of sacrifice,<br /> +Death face to face. Some god, I know not who,<br /> +O'erspread me, and despite my mother's tears<br /> +And my stern father's grief, I met my fate<br /> +Unshrinking.</p> + +<p class="v0 i13">When the moon rose clear from cloud<br /> +Once more again over the midnight sea,<br /> +And that vast watery plain, where were before<br /> +Hundreds of happy homes, and well-tilled fields,<br /> +And purple vineyards; from my father's towers<br /> +The white procession went along the paths,<br /> +The high cliff paths, which well I loved of old,<br /> +Among the myrtles. Priests with censers went<br /> +And offerings, robed in white, and round their brows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span><br /> +The sacred fillet. With his nobles walked<br /> +My sire with breaking heart. My mother clung<br /> +To me the victim, and the young girls went<br /> +With wailing and with tears. A solemn strain<br /> +The soft flutes sounded, as we went by night<br /> +To a wild headland, rock-based in the sea.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">There on a sea-worn rock, upon the verge,<br /> +To some rude stanchions, high above my head,<br /> +They bound me. Out at sea, a black reef rose,<br /> +Washed by the constant surge, wherein a cave<br /> +Sheltered deep down the monster. The sad queen<br /> +Would scarcely leave me, though the priests shrunk back<br /> +In terror. Last, torn from my endless kiss,<br /> +Swooning they bore her upwards. All my robe<br /> +Fell from my lifted arms, and left displayed<br /> +The virgin treasure of my breasts; and then<br /> +The white procession through the moonlight streamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span><br /> +Upwards, and soon their soft flutes sounded low<br /> +Upon the high lawns, leaving me alone.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">There stood I in the moonlight, left alone<br /> +Against the sea-worn rock. Hardly I knew,<br /> +Seeing only the bright moon and summer sea,<br /> +Which gently heaved and surged, and kissed the ledge<br /> +With smooth warm tides, what fate was mine. I seemed,<br /> +Soothed by the quiet, to be resting still<br /> +Within my maiden chamber, and to watch<br /> +The moonlight thro' my lattice. Then again<br /> +Fear came, and then the pride of sacrifice<br /> +Filled me, as on the high cliff lawns I heard<br /> +The wailing cries, the chanted liturgies,<br /> +And knew me bound forsaken to the rock,<br /> +And saw the monster-haunted depths of sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">So all night long upon the sandy shores<br /> +I heard the hollow murmur of the wave,<br /> +And all night long the hidden sea caves made<br /> +A ghostly echo; and the sea birds mewed<br /> +Around me; once I heard a mocking laugh,<br /> +As of some scornful Nereid; once the waters<br /> +Broke louder on the scarpèd reefs, and ebbed<br /> +As if the monster coming; but again<br /> +He came not, and the dead moon sank, and still<br /> +Only upon the cliffs the wails, the chants,<br /> +And I forsaken on my sea-worn rock,<br /> +And lo, the monster-haunted depths of sea.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Till at the dead dark hour before the dawn,<br /> +When sick men die, and scarcely fear itself<br /> +Bore up my weary eyelids, a great surge<br /> +Burst on the rock, and slowly, as it seemed,<br /> +The sea sucked downward to its depths, laid bare<br /> +The hidden reefs, and then before my eyes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>—<br /> +Oh, horrible! a huge and loathsome snake<br /> +Lifted his dreadful crest and scaly side<br /> +Above the wave, in bulk and length so large,<br /> +Coil after hideous coil, that scarce the eye<br /> +Could measure its full horror; the great jaws<br /> +Dropped as with gore; the large and furious eyes<br /> +Were fired with blood and lust. Nearer he came,<br /> +And slowly, with a devilish glare, more near,<br /> +Till his hot fœtor choked me, and his tongue,<br /> +Forked horribly within his poisonous jaws,<br /> +Played lightning-like around me. For awhile<br /> +I swooned, and when I knew my life again,<br /> +Death's bitterness was past.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">Then with a bound<br /> +Leaped up the broad red sun above the sea,<br /> +And lit the horrid fulgour of his scales,<br /> +And struck upon the rock; and as I turned<br /> +My head in the last agony of death,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span><br /> +I knew a brilliant sunbeam swiftly leaping<br /> +Downward from crag to crag, and felt new hope<br /> +Where all was hopeless. On the hills a shout<br /> +Of joy, and on the rocks the ring of mail;<br /> +And while the hungry serpent's gloating eyes<br /> +Were fixed on me, a knight in casque of gold<br /> +And blazing shield, who with his flashing blade<br /> +Fell on the monster. Long the conflict raged,<br /> +Till all the rocks were red with blood and slime,<br /> +And yet my champion from those horrible jaws<br /> +And dreadful coils was scatheless. Zeus his sire<br /> +Protected, and the awful shield he bore<br /> +Withered the monster's life and left him cold,<br /> +Dragging his helpless length and grovelling crest:<br /> +And o'er his glaring eyes the films of death<br /> +Crept, and his writhing flank and hiss of hate<br /> +The great deep swallowed down, and blood and spume<br /> +Rose on the waves; and a strange wailing cry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span><br /> +Resounded o'er the waters, and the sea<br /> +Bellowed within its hollow-sounding caves.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then knew I, I was saved, and with me all<br /> +The people. From my wrists he loosed the gyves,<br /> +My hero; and within his godlike arms<br /> +Bore me by slippery rock and difficult path,<br /> +To where my mother prayed. There was no need<br /> +To ask my love. Without a spoken word<br /> +Love lit his fires within me. My young heart<br /> +Went forth, Love calling, and I gave him all.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Dost thou then wonder that the memory<br /> +Of this supreme brief moment lingers still,<br /> +While all the happy uneventful years<br /> +Of wedded life, and all the fair young growth<br /> +Of offspring, and the tranquil later joys,<br /> +Nay, even the fierce eventful fight which raged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span><br /> +When we were wedded, fade and are deceased,<br /> +Lost in the irrecoverable past?<br /> +Nay, 'tis not strange. Always the memory<br /> +Of overwhelming perils or great joys,<br /> +Avoided or enjoyed, writes its own trace<br /> +With such deep characters upon our lives,<br /> +That all the rest are blotted. In this place,<br /> +Where is not action, thought, or count of time,<br /> +It is not weary as it were on earth,<br /> +To dwell on these old memories. Time is born<br /> +Of dawns and sunsets, days that wax and wane<br /> +And stamp themselves upon the yielding face<br /> +Of fleeting human life; but here there is<br /> +Morning nor evening, act nor suffering,<br /> +But only one unchanging Present holds<br /> +Our being suspended. One blest day indeed,<br /> +Or centuries ago or yesterday,<br /> +There came among us one who was Divine,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span><br /> +Not as our gods, joyous and breathing strength<br /> +And careless life, but crowned with a new crown<br /> +Of suffering, and a great light came with him,<br /> +And with him he brought Time and a new sense<br /> +Of dim, long-vanished years; and since he passed<br /> +I seem to see new meaning in my fate,<br /> +And all the deeds I tell of. Evermore<br /> +The young life comes, bound to the cruel rocks<br /> +Alone. Before it the unfathomed sea<br /> +Smiles, filled with monstrous growths that wait to take<br /> +Its innocence. Far off the voice and hand<br /> +Of love kneel by in agony, and entreat<br /> +The seeming careless gods. Still when the deep<br /> +Is smoothest, lo, the deadly fangs and coils<br /> +Lurk near, to smite with death. And o'er the crags<br /> +Of duty, like a sudden sunbeam, springs<br /> +Some golden soul half mortal, half divine,<br /> +Heaven-sent, and breaks the chain; and evermore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span><br /> +For sacrifice they die, through sacrifice<br /> +They live, and are for others, and no grief<br /> +Which smites the humblest but reverberates<br /> +Thro' all the close-set files of life, and takes<br /> +The princely soul that from its royal towers<br /> +Looks down and sees the sorrow.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">Sir, farewell!<br /> +If thou shouldst meet my children on the earth<br /> +Or here, for maybe it is long ago<br /> +Since I and they were living, say to them<br /> +I only muse a little here, and wait<br /> +The waking."</p> + +<p class="v0 i13">And her lifted arms sank down<br /> +Upon her knees, and as I passed I saw her<br /> +Gazing with soft rapt eyes, and on her lips<br /> +A smile as of a saint<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i22">And then I saw<br /> +A manly hunter pace along the lea,<br /> +His bow upon his shoulder, and his spear<br /> +Poised idly in his hand: the face and form<br /> +Of vigorous youth; but in the full brown eyes<br /> +A timorous gaze as of a hunted hart,<br /> +Brute-like, yet human still, even as the Faun<br /> +Of old, the dumb brute passing into man,<br /> +And dowered with double nature. As he came<br /> +I seemed to question of his fate, and he<br /> +Answered me thus:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i18">"'Twas one hot afternoon<br /> +That I, a hunter, wearied with my day,<br /> +Heard my hounds baying fainter on the hills,<br /> +Led by the flying hart; and when the sound<br /> +Faded and all was still, I turned to seek,<br /> +O'ercome by heat and thirst, a little glade,<br /> +Beloved of old, where, in the shadowy wood,<br /> +The clear cold crystal of a mossy pool<br /> +Lipped the soft emerald marge, and gave again<br /> +The flower-starred lawn where ofttimes overspent<br /> +I lay upon the grass and careless bathed<br /> +My limbs in the sweet lymph.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">But as I neared<br /> +The hollow, sudden through the leaves I saw<br /> +A throng of wood-nymphs fair, sporting undraped<br /> +Round one, a goddess. She with timid hand<br /> +Loosened her zone, and glancing round let fall<br /> +Her robe from neck and bosom, pure and bright,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span><br /> +(For it was Dian's self I saw, none else)<br /> +As when she frees her from a fleece of cloud<br /> +And swims along the deep blue sea of heaven<br /> +On sweet June nights. Silent awhile I stood,<br /> +Rooted with awe, and fain had turned to fly,<br /> +But feared by careless footstep to affright<br /> +Those chaste cold eyes. Great awe and reverence<br /> +Held me, and fear; then Love with passing wing<br /> +Fanned me, and held my eyes, and checked my breath,<br /> +Signing 'Beware!'</p> + +<p class="v0 i18">So for a time I watched,<br /> +Breathless as one a brooding nightmare holds,<br /> +Who fleeth some great fear, yet fleeth not;<br /> +Till the last flutter of lawn, and veil no more<br /> +Obscured, and all the beauty of my dreams<br /> +Assailed my sense. But ere I raised my eyes,<br /> +As one who fain would look and see the sun,<br /> +The first glance dazed my brain. Only I knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span><br /> +The perfect outline flow in tender curves,<br /> +To break in doubled charms; only a haze<br /> +Of creamy white, dimple, and deep divine:<br /> +And then no more. For lo! a sudden chill,<br /> +And such thick mist as shuts the hills at eve,<br /> +Oppressed me gazing; and a heaven-sent shame,<br /> +An awe, a fear, a reverence for the unknown,<br /> +Froze all the springs of will and left me cold,<br /> +And blinded all the longings of my eyes,<br /> +Leaving such dim reflection still as mocks<br /> +Him who has looked on a great light, and keeps<br /> +On his closed eyes the image. Presently,<br /> +My fainting soul, safe hidden for awhile<br /> +Deep in Life's mystic shades, renewed herself,<br /> +And straight, the innocent brute within the man<br /> +Bore on me, and with half-averted eye<br /> +I gazed upon the secret.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">As I looked,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span><br /> +A radiance, white as beamed the frosty moon<br /> +On the mad boy and slew him, beamed on me;<br /> +Made chill my pulses, checked my life and heat;<br /> +Transformed me, withered all my soul, and left<br /> +My being burnt out. For lo! the dreadful eyes<br /> +Of Godhead met my gaze, and through the mask<br /> +And thick disguise of sense, as through a wood,<br /> +Pierced to my life. Then suddenly I knew<br /> +An altered nature, touched by no desire<br /> +For that which showed so lovely, but declined<br /> +To lower levels. Nought of fear or awe,<br /> +Nothing of love was mine. Wide-eyed I gazed,<br /> +But saw no spiritual beam to blight<br /> +My brain with too much beauty, no undraped<br /> +And awful majesty; only a brute,<br /> +Dumb charm, like that which draws the brute to it,<br /> +Unknowing it is drawn. So gradually<br /> +I knew a dull content o'ercloud my sense,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span><br /> +And unabashed I gazed, like that dumb bird<br /> +Which thinks no thought and speaks no word, yet fronts<br /> +The sun that blinded Homer—all my fear<br /> +Sunk with my shame, in a base happiness.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">But as I gazed, and careless turned and passed<br /> +Through the thick wood, forgetting what had been,<br /> +And thinking thoughts no longer, swift there came<br /> +A mortal terror: voices that I knew,<br /> +My own hounds' bayings that I loved before,<br /> +As with them often o'er the purple hills<br /> +I chased the flying hart from slope to slope,<br /> +Before the slow sun climbed the Eastern peaks,<br /> +Until the swift sun smote the Western plain;<br /> +Whom often I had cheered by voice and glance,<br /> +Whom often I had checked with hand and thong<br /> +Grim followers, like the passions, firing me,<br /> +True servants, like the strong nerves, urging me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span><br /> +On many a fruitless chase, to find and take<br /> +Some too swift-fleeting beauty; faithful feet<br /> +And tongues, obedient always: these I knew,<br /> +Clothed with a new-born force and vaster grown,<br /> +And stronger than their master; and I thought,<br /> +What if they tare me with their jaws, nor knew<br /> +That once I ruled them,—brute pursuing brute,<br /> +And I the quarry? Then I turned and fled,—<br /> +If it was I indeed that feared and fled—<br /> +Down the long glades, and through the tangled brakes,<br /> +Where scarce the sunlight pierced; fled on and on,<br /> +And panted, self-pursued. But evermore<br /> +The dissonant music which I knew so sweet,<br /> +When by the windy hills, the echoing vales,<br /> +And whispering pines it rang, now far, now near,<br /> +As from my rushing steed I leant and cheered<br /> +With voice and horn the chase—this brought to me<br /> +Fear of I knew not what, which bade me fly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span><br /> +Fly always, fly; but when my heart stood still,<br /> +And all my limbs were stiffened as I fled,<br /> +Just as the white moon ghost-like climbed the sky,<br /> +Nearer they came and nearer, baying loud,<br /> +With bloodshot eyes and red jaws dripping foam;<br /> +And when I strove to check their savagery,<br /> +Speaking with words; no voice articulate came,<br /> +Only a dumb, low bleat. Then all the throng<br /> +Leapt swift on me, and tare me as I lay,<br /> +And left me man again.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">Wherefore I walk<br /> +Along these dim fields peopled with the ghosts<br /> +Of heroes who have left the ways of earth<br /> +For this faint ghost of them. Sometimes I think,<br /> +Pondering on what has been, that all my days<br /> +Were shadows, all my life an allegory;<br /> +And, though I know sometimes some fainter gleam<br /> +Of the old beauty move me, and sometimes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span><br /> +Some beat of the old pulses; that my fate,<br /> +For ever hurrying on in hot pursuit,<br /> +To fall at length self-slain, was but a tale<br /> +Writ large by Zeus upon a mortal life,<br /> +Writ large, and yet a riddle. For sometimes<br /> +I read its meaning thus: Life is a chase,<br /> +And Man the hunter, always following on,<br /> +With hounds of rushing thought or fiery sense,<br /> +Some hidden truth or beauty, fleeting still<br /> +For ever through the thick-leaved coverts deep<br /> +And wind-worn wolds of time. And if he turn<br /> +A moment from the hot pursuit to seize<br /> +Some chance-brought sweetness, other than the search<br /> +To which his soul is set,—some dalliance,<br /> +Some outward shape of Art, some lower love,<br /> +Some charm of wealth and sleek content and home,—<br /> +Then, if he check an instant, the swift chase<br /> +Of fierce untempered energies which pursue,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span><br /> +With jaws unsated and a thirst for act,<br /> +Bears down on him with clanging shock, and whelms<br /> +His prize and him in ruin.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">And sometimes<br /> +I seem to myself a thinker, who at last,<br /> +Amid the chase and capture of low ends,<br /> +Pausing by some cold well of hidden thought<br /> +Comes on some perfect truth, and looks and looks<br /> +Till the fair vision blinds him. And the sum<br /> +Of all his lower self pursuing him,<br /> +The strong brute forces, the unchecked desires,<br /> +Finding him bound and speechless, deem him now<br /> +No more their master, but some soulless thing;<br /> +And leap on him, and seize him, and possess<br /> +His life, till through death's gate he pass to life,<br /> +And, his own ghost, revives. But looks no more<br /> +Upon the truth unveiled, save through a cloud<br /> +Of creed and faith and longing, which shall change<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span><br /> +One day to perfect knowledge.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">But whoe'er<br /> +Shall read the riddle of my life, I walk<br /> +In this dim land amid dim ghosts of kings,<br /> +As one day thou shalt; meantime, fare thou well."</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then passed he; and I marked him slowly go<br /> +Along the winding ways of that weird land,<br /> +And vanish in a wood.</p> + +<p class="v4 i22">And next I knew<br /> +A woman perfect as a young man's dream,<br /> +And breathing as it seemed the old sweet air<br /> +Of the fair days of old, when man was young<br /> +And life an Epic. Round the lips a smile<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span><br /> +Subtle and deep and sweet as hers who looks<br /> +From the old painter's canvas, and derides<br /> +Life and the riddle of things, the aimless strife,<br /> +The folly of Love, as who has proved it all,<br /> +Enjoyed and suffered. In the lovely eyes<br /> +A weary look, no other than the gaze<br /> +Which ofttimes as the rapid chariot whirls,<br /> +And ofttimes by the glaring midnight streets,<br /> +Gleams out and chills our thought. And yet not guilt<br /> +Nor sorrow was it; only weariness,<br /> +No more, and still most lovely. As I named<br /> +Her name in haste, she looked with half surprise,<br /> +And thus she seemed to speak:</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">"What? Dost thou know<br /> +Thou too, the fatal glances which beguiled<br /> +Those strong rude chiefs of old? Has not the gloom<br /> +Of this dim land withdrawn from out mine eyes<br /> +The glamour which once filled them? Does my cheek<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span><br /> +Retain the round of youth and still defy<br /> +The wear of immemorial centuries?<br /> +And this low voice, long silent, keeps it still<br /> +The music of old time? Aye, in thine eyes<br /> +I read it, and within thine eyes I see<br /> +Thou knowest me, and the story of my life<br /> +Sung by the blind old bard when I was dead,<br /> +And all my lovers dust. I know thee not,<br /> +Thee nor thy gods, yet would I soothly swear<br /> +I was not all to blame for what has been,<br /> +The long fight, the swift death, the woes, the tears<br /> +The brave lives spent, the humble homes uptorn<br /> +To gain one poor fair face. It was not I<br /> +That curved these lips into this subtle smile,<br /> +Or gave these eyes their fire, nor yet made round<br /> +This supple frame. It was not I, but Love,<br /> +Love mirroring himself in all things fair,<br /> +Love that projects himself upon a life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span><br /> +And dotes on his own image.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Ah! the days,<br /> +The weary years of Love and feasts and gold,<br /> +The hurried flights, the din of clattering hoofs<br /> +At midnight, when the heroes dared for me,<br /> +And bore me o'er the hills; the swift pursuits<br /> +Baffled and lost; or when from isle to isle<br /> +The high-oared galley spread its wings and rose<br /> +Over the swelling surges, and I saw,<br /> +Time after time, the scarce familiar town,<br /> +The sharp-cut hills, the well-loved palaces,<br /> +The gleaming temples fade, and all for me,<br /> +Me the dead prize, the shell, the soulless ghost,<br /> +The husk of a true woman; the fond words<br /> +Wasted on careless ears, that seemed to hear,<br /> +Of love to me unloving; the rich feasts,<br /> +The silken dalliance and soft luxury,<br /> +The fair observance and high reverence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span><br /> +For me who cared not, to whatever land<br /> +My kingly lover snatched me. I have known<br /> +How small a fence Love sets between the king<br /> +And the strong hind, who breeds his brood, and dies<br /> +Upon the field he tills. I have exchanged<br /> +People for people, crown for glittering crown,<br /> +Through every change a queen, and held my state<br /> +Hateful, and sickened in my soul to lie<br /> +Stretched on soft cushions to the lutes' low sound,<br /> +While on the wasted fields the clang of arms<br /> +Rang, and the foemen perished, and swift death,<br /> +Hunger, and plague, and every phase of woe<br /> +Vexed all the land for me. I have heard the curse<br /> +Unspoken, when the wife widowed for me<br /> +Clasped to her heart her orphans starved for me;<br /> +As I swept proudly by. I have prayed the gods,<br /> +Hating my own fair face which wrought such woe,<br /> +Some plague divine might light on it and leave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span><br /> +My curse a ruin. Yet I think indeed<br /> +They had not cursed but pitied, those true wives<br /> +Who mourned their humble lords, and straining felt<br /> +The innocent thrill which swells the mother's heart<br /> +Who clasps her growing boy; had they but known<br /> +The lifeless life, the pain of hypocrite smiles,<br /> +The dead load of caresses simulated,<br /> +When Love stands shuddering by to see his fires<br /> +Lit for the shrine of gold. What if they felt<br /> +The weariness of loveless love which grew<br /> +And through the jealous palace portals seized<br /> +The caged unloving woman, sick of toys,<br /> +Sick of her gilded chains, her ease, herself,<br /> +Till for sheer weariness she flew to meet<br /> +Some new unloved seducer? What if they knew<br /> +No childish loving hands, or worse than all,<br /> +Had borne them sullen to a sire unloved,<br /> +And left them without pain? I might have been,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span><br /> +I too, a loving mother and chaste wife,<br /> +Had Fate so willed.</p> + +<p class="v0 i20">For I remember well<br /> +How one day straying from my father's halls<br /> +Seeking anemones and violets,<br /> +A girl in Spring-time, when the heart makes Spring<br /> +Within the budding bosom, that I came<br /> +Of a sudden through a wood upon a bay,<br /> +A little sunny land-locked bay, whose banks<br /> +Sloped gently downward to the yellow sand,<br /> +Where the blue wave creamed soft with fairy foam,<br /> +And oft the Nereids sported. As I strayed<br /> +Singing, with fresh-pulled violets in my hair<br /> +And bosom, and my hands were full of flowers,<br /> +I came upon a little milk-white lamb,<br /> +And took it in my arms and fondled it,<br /> +And wreathed its neck with flowers, and sang to it<br /> +And kissed it, and the Spring was in my life,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span><br /> +And I was glad.</p> + +<p class="v0 i16">And when I raised my eyes<br /> +Behold, a youthful shepherd with his crook<br /> +Stood by me and regarded as I lay,<br /> +Tall, fair, with clustering curls, and front that wore<br /> +A budding manhood. As I looked a fear<br /> +Came o'er me, lest he were some youthful god<br /> +Disguised in shape of man, so fair he was;<br /> +But when he spoke, the kindly face was full<br /> +Of manhood, and the large eyes full of fire<br /> +Drew me without a word, and all the flowers<br /> +Fell from me, and the little milk-white lamb<br /> +Strayed through the brake, and took with it the white<br /> +Fair years of childhood. Time fulfilled my being<br /> +With passion like a cup, and with one kiss<br /> +Left me a woman.</p> + +<p class="v0 i17">Ah! the lovely days,<br /> +When on the warm bank crowned with flowers we sate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span><br /> +And thought no harm, and his thin reed pipe made<br /> +Low music, and no witness of our love<br /> +Intruded, but the tinkle of the flock<br /> +Came from the hill, and 'neath the odorous shade<br /> +We dreamed away the day, and watched the waves<br /> +Steal shoreward, and beyond the sylvan capes<br /> +The innumerable laughter of the sea!</p> + +<p class="v1 i0">Ah youth and love! So passed the happy days<br /> +Till twilight, and I stole as in a dream<br /> +Homeward, and lived as in a happy dream,<br /> +And when they spoke answered as in a dream,<br /> +And through the darkness saw, as in a glass,<br /> +The happy, happy day, and thrilled and glowed<br /> +And kept my love in sleep, and longed for dawn<br /> +And scarcely stayed for hunger, and with morn<br /> +Stole eager to the little wood, and fed<br /> +My life with kisses. Ah! the joyous days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span><br /> +Of innocence, when Love was Queen in heaven,<br /> +And nature unreproved! Break they then still,<br /> +Those azure circles, on a golden shore?<br /> +Smiles there no glade upon the older earth<br /> +Where spite of all, gray wisdom, and new gods,<br /> +Young lovers dream within each other's arms<br /> +Silent, by shadowy grove, or sunlit sea?</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah days too fair to last! There came a night<br /> +When I lay longing for my love, and knew<br /> +Sudden the clang of hoofs, the broken doors.<br /> +The clash of swords, the shouts, the groans, the stain<br /> +Of red upon the marble, the fixed gaze<br /> +Of dead and dying eyes,—that was the time<br /> +When first I looked on death,—and when I woke<br /> +From my deep swoon, I felt the night air cool<br /> +Upon my brow, and the cold stars look down,<br /> +As swift we galloped o'er the darkling plain;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span><br /> +And saw the chill sea glimpses slowly wake,<br /> +With arms unknown around me. When the dawn<br /> +Broke swift, we panted on the pathless steeps,<br /> +And so by plain and mountain till we came<br /> +To Athens, where they kept me till I grew<br /> +Fairer with every year, and many wooed,<br /> +Heroes and chieftains, but I loved not one.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And then the avengers came and snatched me back<br /> +To Sparta. All the dark high-crested chiefs<br /> +Of Argos wooed me, striving king with king<br /> +For one fair foolish face, nor knew I kept<br /> +No heart to give them. Yet since I was grown<br /> +Weary of honeyed words and suit of love,<br /> +I wedded a brave chief, dauntless and true.<br /> +But what cared I? I could not prize at all<br /> +His honest service. I had grown so tired<br /> +Of loving and of love, that when they brought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span><br /> +News that the fairest shepherd on the hills,<br /> +Having done himself to death for his lost love,<br /> +Lay, like a lovely statue, cold and white<br /> +Upon the golden sand, I hardly knew<br /> +More than a passing pang. Love, like a flower,<br /> +Love, springing up too tall in a young breast,<br /> +The growth of morning, Life's too scorching sun<br /> +Had withered long ere noon. Love, like a flame<br /> +On his own altar offering up my heart,<br /> +Had burnt my being to ashes.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">Was it love<br /> +That drew me then to Paris? He was fair,<br /> +I grant you, fairer than a summer morn,<br /> +Fair with a woman's fairness, yet in arms<br /> +A hero, but he never had my heart,<br /> +Not love for him allured me, but the thirst<br /> +For freedom, if in more than thought I erred,<br /> +And was not rapt but willing. For my child,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span><br /> +Born to an unloved father, loved me not,<br /> +The fresh sea called, the galleys plunged, and I<br /> +Fled willing from my prison and the pain<br /> +Of undesired caresses, and the wind<br /> +Was fair, and on the third day as we sailed,<br /> +My heart was glad within me when I saw<br /> +The towers of Ilium rise beyond the wave.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah, the long years, the melancholy years,<br /> +The miserable melancholy years!<br /> +For soon the new grew old, and then I grew<br /> +Weary of him, of all, of pomp and state<br /> +And novel splendour. Yet at times I knew<br /> +Some thrill of pride within me as I saw<br /> +From those high walls, a prisoner and a foe,<br /> +The swift ships flock at anchor in the bay,<br /> +The hasty landing and the flash of arms,<br /> +The lines of royal tents upon the plain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span><br /> +The close-shut gates, the chivalry within<br /> +Issuing in all its pride to meet the shock<br /> +Of the bold chiefs without; so year by year<br /> +The haughty challenge from the warring hosts<br /> +Rang forth, and I with a divided heart<br /> +Saw victory incline, now here, now there,<br /> +And helpless marked the Argive chiefs I knew,<br /> +The spouse I left, the princely loves of old,<br /> +Now with each other strive, and now with Troy:<br /> +The brave pomp of the morn, the fair strong limbs,<br /> +The glittering panoply, the bold young hearts,<br /> +Athirst for fame of war, and with the night<br /> +The broken spear, the shattered helm, the plume<br /> +Dyed red with blood, the ghastly dying face,<br /> +And nerveless limbs laid lifeless. And I knew<br /> +The stainless Hector whom I could have loved,<br /> +But that a happy love made blind his eyes<br /> +To all my baleful beauty; fallen and dragged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span><br /> +His noble, manly head upon the sand<br /> +By young Achilles' chariot; him in turn<br /> +Fallen and slain; my fair false Paris slain;<br /> +Plague, famine, battle, raging now within,<br /> +And now without, for many a weary year,<br /> +Summer and winter, till I loathed to live,<br /> +Who was indeed, as well they said, the Hell<br /> +Of men, and fleets, and cities. As I stood<br /> +Upon the walls, ofttimes a longing came,<br /> +Looking on rage, and fight, and blood, and death,<br /> +To end it all, and dash me down and die;<br /> +But no god helped me. Nay, one day I mind<br /> +I would entreat them. 'Pray you, lords, be men.<br /> +What fatal charm is this which Até gives<br /> +To one poor foolish face? Be strong, and turn<br /> +In peace, forget this glamour, get you home<br /> +With all your fleets and armies, to the land<br /> +I love no longer, where your faithful wives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span><br /> +Pine widowed of their lords, and your young boys<br /> +Grow wild to manhood. I have nought to give,<br /> +No heart, nor prize of love for any man,<br /> +Nor recompense. I am the ghost alone<br /> +Of the fair girl ye knew; she still abides,<br /> +If she still lives and is not wholly dead,<br /> +Stretched on a flowery bank upon the sea<br /> +In fair heroic Argos. Leave this form<br /> +That is no other than the outward shell<br /> +Of a once loving woman.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">As I spake,<br /> +My pity fired my eyes and flushed my cheek<br /> +With some soft charm; and as I spread my hands,<br /> +The purple, glancing down a little, left<br /> +The marble of my breasts and one pink bud<br /> +Upon the gleaming snows. And as I looked<br /> +With a mixed pride and terror, I beheld<br /> +The brute rise up within them, and my words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span><br /> +Fall barren on them. So I sat apart,<br /> +Nor ever more looked forth, while every day<br /> +Brought its own woe.</p> + +<p class="v0 i21">The melancholy years,<br /> +The miserable melancholy years,<br /> +Crept onward till the midnight terror came,<br /> +And by the glare of burning streets I saw<br /> +Palace and temple reel in ruin and fall,<br /> +And the long-baffled legions, bursting in<br /> +By gate and bastion, blunted sword and spear<br /> +With unresisted slaughter. From my tower<br /> +I saw the good old king; his kindly eyes<br /> +In agony, and all his reverend hairs<br /> +Dabbled with blood, as the fierce foeman thrust<br /> +And stabbed him as he lay; the youths, the girls,<br /> +Whom day by day I knew, their silken ease<br /> +And royal luxury changed for blood and tears,<br /> +Haled forth to death or worse. Then a great hate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span><br /> +Of life and fate seized on me, and I rose<br /> +And rushed among them, crying, 'See, 'tis I,<br /> +I who have brought this evil! Kill me! kill<br /> +The fury that is I, yet is not I!<br /> +And let my soul go outward through the wound<br /> +Made clean by blood to Hades! Let me die,<br /> +Not these who did no wrong!' But not a hand<br /> +Was raised, and all shrank backward as afraid,<br /> +As from a goddess. Then I swooned and fell<br /> +And knew no more, and when I woke I felt<br /> +My husband's arms around me, and the wind<br /> +Blew fair for Greece, and the beaked galley plunged;<br /> +And where the towers of Ilium rose of old,<br /> +A pall of smoke above a glare of fire.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">What then in the near future?</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Ten long years<br /> +Bring youth and love to that deep summer-tide<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span><br /> +When the full noisy current of our lives<br /> +Creeps dumb through wealth of flowers. I think I knew<br /> +Somewhat of peace at last, with my good Lord<br /> +Who loved too much, to palter with the past,<br /> +Flushed with the present. Young Hermione<br /> +Had grown from child to woman. She was wed;<br /> +And was not I her mother? At the pomp<br /> +Of solemn nuptials and requited love,<br /> +I prayed she might be happy, happier far<br /> +Than ever I was; so in tranquil ease<br /> +I lived a queen long time, and because wealth<br /> +And high observance can make sweet our days<br /> +When youth's swift joy is past, I did requite<br /> +With what I might, not love, the kindly care<br /> +Of him I loved not; pomps and robes of price<br /> +And chariots held me. But when Fate cut short<br /> +His life and love, his sons who were not mine<br /> +Reigned in his stead, and hated me and mine:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span><br /> +And knowing I was friendless, I sailed forth<br /> +Once more across the sea, seeking for rest<br /> +And shelter. Still I knew that in my eyes<br /> +Love dwelt, and all the baleful charm of old<br /> +Burned as of yore, scarce dimmed as yet by time:<br /> +I saw it in the mirror of the sea,<br /> +I saw it in the youthful seamen's eyes,<br /> +And was half proud again I had such power<br /> +Who now kept nothing else. So one calm eve,<br /> +Behold, a sweet fair isle blushed like a rose<br /> +Upon the summer sea: there my swift ship<br /> +Cast anchor, and they told me it was Rhodes.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">There, in a little wood above the sea,<br /> +Like that dear wood of yore, I wandered forth<br /> +Forlorn, and all my seamen were apart,<br /> +And I, alone; when at the close of day<br /> +I knew myself surrounded by strange churls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span><br /> +With angry eyes, and one who ordered them,<br /> +A woman, whom I knew not, but who walked<br /> +In mien and garb a queen. She, with the fire<br /> +Of hate within her eyes, 'Quick, bind her, men!<br /> +I know her; bind her fast!' Then to the trunk<br /> +Of a tall plane they bound me with rude cords<br /> +That cut my arms. And meantime, far below,<br /> +The sun was gilding fair with dying rays<br /> +Isle after isle and purple wastes of sea.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And then she signed to them, and all withdrew<br /> +Among the woods and left us, face to face,<br /> +Two women. Ere I spoke, 'I know,' she said,<br /> +'I know that evil fairness. This it was,<br /> +Or ever he had come across my life,<br /> +That made him cold to me, who had my love<br /> +And left me half a heart. If all my life<br /> +Of wedlock was but half a life, what fiend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span><br /> +Came 'twixt my love and me, but that fair face?<br /> +What left his children orphans, but that face?<br /> +And me a widow? Fiend! I have thee now;<br /> +Thou hast not long to live. I will requite<br /> +Thy murders; yet, oh fiend! that art so fair,<br /> +Were it not haply better to deface<br /> +Thy fatal loveliness, and leave thee bare<br /> +Of all thy baleful power? And yet I doubt,<br /> +And looking on thy face I doubt the more,<br /> +Lest all thy dower of fairness be the gift<br /> +Of Aphrodité, and I fear to fight<br /> +Against the immortal Gods.'</p> + +<p class="v1 i28">Even with the word,<br /> +And she relenting, all the riddle of life<br /> +Flashed through me, and the inextricable coil<br /> +Of Being, and the immeasurable depths<br /> +And irony of Fate, burst on my thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span><br /> +And left me smiling in the eyes of death,<br /> +With this deep smile thou seëst. Then with a shriek<br /> +The woman leapt on me, and with blind rage<br /> +Strangled my life. And when she had done the deed<br /> +She swooned, and those her followers hasting back<br /> +Fell prone upon their knees before the corpse<br /> +As to a goddess. Then one went and brought<br /> +A sculptor, and within a jewelled shrine<br /> +They set me in white marble, bound to a tree<br /> +Of marble. And they came and knelt to me,<br /> +Young men and maidens, through the secular years,<br /> +While the old gods bore sway, but I was here,<br /> +And now they kneel no longer, for the world<br /> +Has gone from beauty.</p> + +<p class="v0 i22">But I think, indeed,<br /> +They well might worship still, for never yet<br /> +Was any thought or thing of beauty born<br /> +Except with suffering. That poor wretch who thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span><br /> +I injured her, stealing the foolish heart<br /> +Which she prized but I could not, what knew she<br /> +Of that I suffered? She had loved her love,<br /> +Though unrequited, and had borne to him<br /> +Children who loved her. What if she had been<br /> +Loved yet unloving: all the fire of love<br /> +Burnt out before love's time in one brief blaze<br /> +Of passion. Ah, poor fool! I pity her,<br /> +Being blest and yet unthankful, and forgive,<br /> +Now that she is a ghost as I, the hand<br /> +Which loosed my load of life. For scarce indeed<br /> +Could any god who cares for mortal men<br /> +Have ever kept me happy. I had tired<br /> +Of simple loving, doubtless, as I tired<br /> +Of splendour and being loved. There be some souls<br /> +For which love is enough, content to bear<br /> +From youth to age, from chesnut locks to gray,<br /> +The load of common, uneventful life<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span><br /> +And penury. But I was not of these;<br /> +I know not now, if it were best indeed<br /> +That I had reared my simple shepherd brood,<br /> +And lived and died unknown in some poor hut<br /> +Among the Argive hills; or lived a queen<br /> +As I did, knowing every day that dawned<br /> +Some high emprise and glorious, and in death<br /> +To fill the world with song. Not the same meed<br /> +The gods mete out for all, or She, the dread<br /> +Necessity, who rules both gods and men,<br /> +Some to dishonour, some to honour moulds,<br /> +To happiness some, some to unhappiness.<br /> +We are what Zeus has made us, discords playing<br /> +In the great music, but the harmony<br /> +Is sweeter for them, and the great spheres ring<br /> +In one accordant hymn.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">But thou, if e'er<br /> +There come a daughter of thy love, oh pray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span><br /> +To all thy gods, lest haply they should mar<br /> +Her life with too great beauty!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">So she ceased.<br /> +The fairest woman that the poet's dream<br /> +Or artist hand has fashioned. All the gloom<br /> +Seemed lightened round her, and I heard the sound<br /> +Of her melodious voice when all was still,<br /> +And the dim twilight took her.</p> + +<p class="v4 i31">Next there came<br /> +Two who together walked: one with a lyre<br /> +Of gold, which gave no sound; the other hung<br /> +Upon his breast, and closely clung to him,<br /> +Spent in a tender longing. As they came,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span><br /> +I heard her gentle voice recounting o'er<br /> +Some ancient tale, and these the words she said:</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">"Dear voice and lyre now silent, which I heard<br /> +Across yon sullen river, bringing to me<br /> +All my old life, and he, the ferryman,<br /> +Heard and obeyed, and the grim monster heard<br /> +And fawned on you. Joyous thou cam'st and free<br /> +Like a white sunbeam from the dear bright earth,<br /> +Where suns shone clear, and moons beamed bright, and streams<br /> +Laughed with a rippling music,—nor as here<br /> +The dumb stream stole, the veiled sky slept, the fields<br /> +Were lost in twilight. Like a morning breeze,<br /> +Which blows in summer from the gates of dawn<br /> +Across the fields of spice, and wakes to life<br /> +Their slumbering perfume, through this silent land<br /> +Of whispering voices and of half-closed eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span><br /> +Where scarce a footstep sounds, nor any strain<br /> +Of earthly song, thou cam'st; and suddenly<br /> +The pale cheeks flushed a little, the murmured words<br /> +Rose to a faint, thin treble; the throng of ghosts<br /> +Pacing along the sunless ways and still,<br /> +Felt a new life. Thou camest, dear, and straight<br /> +The dull cold river broke in sparkling foam,<br /> +The pale and scentless flowers grew perfumed; last<br /> +To the dim chamber, where with the sad queen<br /> +I sat in gloom, and silently inwove<br /> +Dead wreaths of amaranths; thy music came<br /> +Laden with life, and I, who seemed to know<br /> +Not life's voice only, but my own, rose up,<br /> +Along the hollow pathways following<br /> +The sound which brought back earth and life and love,<br /> +And memory and longing. Yet I went<br /> +With half-reluctant footsteps, as of one<br /> +Whom passion draws, or some high fantasy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span><br /> +Despite himself, because some subtle spell,<br /> +Part born of dread to cross that sullen stream<br /> +And its grim guardians, part of secret shame<br /> +Of the young airs and freshness of the earth,<br /> +Being that I was, enchained me.</p> + +<p class="v0 i32">Then at last,<br /> +From voice and lyre so high a strain arose<br /> +As trembled on the utter verge of being,<br /> +And thrilling, poured out life. Thus closelier drawn<br /> +I walked with thee, shut in by halcyon sound<br /> +And soft environments of harmony,<br /> +Beyond the ghostly gates, beyond the dim<br /> +Calm fields, where the beetle hummed and the pale owl<br /> +Stole noiseless from the copse, and the white blooms<br /> +Stretched thin for lack of sun: so fair a light<br /> +Born out of consonant sound environed me.<br /> +Nor looked I backward, as we seemed to move<br /> +To some high goal of thought and life and love,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span><br /> +Like twin birds flying fast with equal wing<br /> +Out of the night, to meet the coming sun<br /> +Above a sea. But on thy dear fair eyes,<br /> +The eyes that well I knew on the old earth,<br /> +I looked not, for with still averted gaze<br /> +Thou leddest, and I followed; for, indeed,<br /> +While that high strain was sounding, I was rapt<br /> +In faith and a high courage, driving out<br /> +All doubt and discontent and womanish fear,<br /> +Nay, even my love itself. But when awhile<br /> +It sank a little, or seemed to sink and fall<br /> +To lower levels, seeing that use makes blunt<br /> +The too accustomed ear, straightway, desire<br /> +To look once more on thy recovered eyes<br /> +Seized me, and oft I called with piteous voice,<br /> +Beseeching thee to turn. But thou long time<br /> +Wert even as one unmindful, with grave sign<br /> +And waving hand, denying. Finally,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span><br /> +When now we neared the stream, on whose far shore<br /> +Lay life, great terror took me, and I shrieked<br /> +Thy name, as in despair. Then thou, as one<br /> +Who knows him set in some great jeopardy,<br /> +A swift death fronting him on either hand,<br /> +Didst slowly turning gaze; and lo! I saw<br /> +Thine eyes grown awful, life that looked on death,<br /> +Clear purity on dark and cankered sin,<br /> +The immortal on corruption,—not the eyes<br /> +That erst I knew in life, but dreadfuller,<br /> +And stranger. As I looked, I seemed to swoon,<br /> +Some blind force whirled me back, and when I woke<br /> +I saw thee vanish in the middle stream,<br /> +A speck on the dull waters, taking with thee<br /> +My life, and leaving Love with me. But I<br /> +Not for myself bewail, but all for thee,<br /> +Who, but for me, wert now among the stars<br /> +With thy great Lord; I sitting at thy feet:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span><br /> +But now the fierce and unrestrainèd rout<br /> +Of passions woman-natured, finding thee<br /> +Scornful of love within thy lonely cell,<br /> +With blind rage falling on thee, tore thy limbs,<br /> +And left them to the Muses' sepulture,<br /> +While thy soul dwells in Hades. But I wail<br /> +My weakness always, who for Love destroyed<br /> +The life that was my Love. I prithee, dear,<br /> +Forgive me if thou canst, who hast lost heaven<br /> +To save a loving woman."</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">He with voice<br /> +Sweeter than any mortal melody,<br /> +And plaintive as the music that is made<br /> +By the Æolian strings, or the sad bird<br /> +That sings of summer nights:</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">"Eurydice,<br /> +Dear love, be comforted; not once alone<br /> +That which thou mournest is, but day by day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span><br /> +Some lonely soul, which walks apart and feeds<br /> +On high hill pastures, far from herds of men,<br /> +Comes to the low fat fields, and sunny vales<br /> +Joyous with fruits and flowers, and the white arms<br /> +Of laughing love; and there awhile he stays<br /> +Content, forgetting all the joys he knew,<br /> +When first the morning broke upon the hills,<br /> +And the keen air breathed from the Eastern gates<br /> +Like a pure draught of wine; forgetting all<br /> +The strains which float, as from a nearer heaven,<br /> +To him who treads at dawn the untrodden snows,<br /> +While all the warm world sleeps;—forgetting these<br /> +And all things that have been. And if he gain<br /> +To raise to his own heights the simpler souls<br /> +That dwell upon the plains, the untutored thought,<br /> +The museless lives, the unawakened brain<br /> +That yet might soar, then is he blest indeed.<br /> +But if he fail, then, leaving love behind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span><br /> +The wider love of the race, the closer love<br /> +Of some congenial soul, he turns again<br /> +To the old difficult steeps, and there alone<br /> +Pines, till the widowed passions of his heart<br /> +Tear him and rend his soul, and drive him down<br /> +To the low plains he left. And there he dwells,<br /> +Missing the heavens, dear, and the white peaks,<br /> +And the light air of old; but in their stead<br /> +Finding the soft sweet sun of the vale, the clouds<br /> +Which veil the skies indeed, but give the rains<br /> +That feed the streams of life and make earth green,<br /> +And bring at last the harvest. So I walk<br /> +In this dim land content with thee, O Love,<br /> +Untouched by any yearning of regret<br /> +For those old days; nor that the lyre which made<br /> +Erewhile such potent music now is dumb;<br /> +Nor that the voice that once could move the earth<br /> +(Zeus speaking through it), speaks in household words<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span><br /> +Of homely love: Love is enough for me<br /> +With thee, O dearest; and perchance at last,<br /> +Zeus willing, this dumb lyre and whispered voice<br /> +Shall wake, by Love inspired, to such clear note<br /> +As soars above the stars, and swelling, lifts<br /> +Our souls to highest heaven."</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Then he stooped,<br /> +And, folded in one long embrace, they went<br /> +And faded. And I cried, "Oh, strong God, Love,<br /> +Mightier than Death and Hell!"</p> + +<p class="v2 i31">And then I chanced<br /> +On a fair woman, whose sad eyes were full<br /> +Of a fixed self-reproach, like his who knows<br /> +Himself the fountain of his grief, and pines<br /> +In self-inflicted sorrow. As I spake<br /> +Enquiring of her grief, she answered thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>:</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">"Stranger, thou seest of all the shades below<br /> +The most unhappy. Others sought their love<br /> +In death, and found it, dying; but for me<br /> +The death that took me, took from me my love,<br /> +And left me comfortless. No load I bear<br /> +Like those dark wicked women, who have slain<br /> +Their Lords for lust or anger, whom the dread<br /> +Propitious Ones within the pit below<br /> +Punish and purge of sin; only unfaith,<br /> +If haply want of faith be not a crime<br /> +Blacker than murder, when we fail to trust<br /> +One worthy of all faith, and folly bring<br /> +No harder recompense than comes of scorn<br /> +And loathing of itself.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">Ah, fool, fool, fool,<br /> +Who didst mistrust thy love, who was the best,<br /> +And truest, manliest soul with whom the gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span><br /> +Have ever blest the earth; so brave, so strong,<br /> +Fired with such burning hate of powerful ill,<br /> +So loving of the race, so swift to raise<br /> +The fearless arm and mighty club, and smite<br /> +All monstrous growths with ruin—Zeus himself<br /> +Showed scarce more mighty—and yet was the while<br /> +A very man, not cast in mould too fine<br /> +For human love, but ofttimes snared and caught<br /> +By womanish wiles, fast held within the net<br /> +His passions wove. Oh, it was grand to hear<br /> +Of how he went, the champion of his race,<br /> +Mighty in war, mighty in love, now bent<br /> +To more than human tasks, now lapt in ease,<br /> +Now suffering, now enjoying. Strong, vast soul,<br /> +Tuned to heroic deeds, and set on high<br /> +Above the range of common petty sins—<br /> +Too high to mate with an unequal soul,<br /> +Too full of striving for contented days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah me, how well I do recall the cause<br /> +Of all our ills! I was a happy bride<br /> +When that dark Até which pursues the steps<br /> +Of heroes—innocent blood-guiltiness—<br /> +Drove us to exile, and I joyed to be<br /> +His own, and share his pain. To a swift stream<br /> +Fleeing we came, where a rough ferryman<br /> +Waited, more brute than man. My hero plunged<br /> +In those fierce depths and battled with their flow,<br /> +And with great labour gained the strand, and bade<br /> +The monster row me to him. But with lust<br /> +And brutal cunning in his eyes, the thing<br /> +Seized me and turned to fly with me, when swift<br /> +An arrow hissed from the unerring bow,<br /> +Pierced him, and loosed his grasp. Then as his eyes<br /> +Grew glazed in death there came in them a gleam<br /> +Of what I know was hate, and he said, 'Take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span><br /> +This white robe. It is costly. See, my blood<br /> +Has stained it but a little. I did wrong:<br /> +I know it, and repent me. If there come<br /> +A time when he grows cold—for all the race<br /> +Of heroes wander, nor can any love<br /> +Fix theirs for long—take it and wrap him in it,<br /> +And he shall love again.' Then, from the strange<br /> +Deep look within his eyes I shrank in fear,<br /> +And left him half in pity, and I went<br /> +To meet my Lord, who rose from that fierce stream<br /> +Fair as a god.</p> + +<p class="v0 i15">Ah me, the weary days<br /> +We women live, spending our anxious souls,<br /> +Consumed with jealous fancies, hungering still<br /> +For the belovèd voice and ear and eye,<br /> +And hungering all in vain! For life is more<br /> +To youthful manhood than to sit at home<br /> +Before the hearth to watch the children's ways<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span><br /> +And lead the life of petty household care<br /> +Which doth content us women. Day by day<br /> +I pined in Trachis for my love, while he,<br /> +Now in some warlike exploit busied, now<br /> +Fighting some monster, now at some fair court,<br /> +Resting awhile till some new enterprise<br /> +Called him, returned not. News of treacheries<br /> +Avenged, friends succoured, dreadful monsters slain,<br /> +Came from him: always triumph, always fame,<br /> +And honour, and success, and reverence,<br /> +And sometimes, words of love for me who pined<br /> +For more than words, and would have gone to him<br /> +But that the toils of such high errantry<br /> +Asked more than woman's strength.</p> + +<p class="v0 i34">So the slow years<br /> +Vexed me alone in Trachis, set forlorn<br /> +In solitude, nor hearing at the gate<br /> +The frank and cheering voice, nor on the stair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span><br /> +The heavy tread, nor feeling the strong arm<br /> +Around me in the darkling night, when all<br /> +My being ran slow. Last, subtle whispers came<br /> +Of womanish wiles which kept my Lord from me,<br /> +And one who, young and fair, a fresh-blown life<br /> +And virgin, younger, fairer far than I<br /> +When first he loved me, held him in the toils<br /> +Of scarce dissembled love. Not easily<br /> +Might I believe this evil, but at last<br /> +The oft-repeated malice finding me<br /> +Forlorn, and sitting imp-like at my ear,<br /> +Possessed me, and the fire of jealous love<br /> +Raged through my veins, not turned as yet to hate—<br /> +Too well I loved for that—but breeding in me<br /> +Unfaith in him. Love, setting him so high<br /> +And self so low, betrayed me, and I prayed,<br /> +Constrained to hold him false, the immortal gods<br /> +To make him love again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i24">But still he came not.<br /> +And still the maddening rumours worked, and still<br /> +'Fair, young, and a king's daughter,' the same words<br /> +Smote me and pierced me. Oh, there is no pain<br /> +In Hades—nay, nor deepest Hell itself,<br /> +Like that of jealous hearts, the torture-pain<br /> +Which racked my life so long.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Till one fair morn<br /> +There came a joyful message. 'He has come!<br /> +And at the shrine upon the promontory,<br /> +The fair white shrine upon the purple sea,<br /> +He waits to do his solemn sacrifice<br /> +To the immortal gods; and with him comes<br /> +A young maid beautiful as Dawn.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">Then I,<br /> +Mingling despair with love, rapt in deep joy<br /> +That he was come, plunged in the depths of hell<br /> +That she came too, bethought me of the robe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span><br /> +The Centaur gave me, and the words he spake,<br /> +Forgetting the deep hatred in his eyes,<br /> +And all but love, and sent a messenger<br /> +Bidding him wear it for the sacrifice<br /> +To the immortals, knowing not at all<br /> +Whom Fate decreed the victim.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Shall my soul<br /> +Forget the agonized message which he sent,<br /> +Bidding me come? For that accursèd robe,<br /> +Stained with the poisonous accursèd blood,<br /> +Even in the midmost flush of sacrifice<br /> +Clung to him a devouring fire, and ate<br /> +The piteous flesh from his dear limbs, and stung<br /> +His great soft soul to madness. When I came,<br /> +Knowing it was my work, he bent on me,<br /> +Wise as a god through suffering and the near<br /> +Inevitable Death, so that no word<br /> +Of mine was needed, such a tender look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span><br /> +Of mild reproach as smote me. 'Couldst not thou<br /> +Trust me, who never loved as I love thee?<br /> +What need was there of magical arts to draw<br /> +The love that never wavered? I have lived<br /> +As he lives who through perilous paths must pass,<br /> +And lifelong trials, striving to keep down<br /> +The brute within him, born of too much strength<br /> +And sloth and vacuous days; by difficult toils,<br /> +Labours endured, and hard-fought fights with ill,<br /> +Now vanquished, now triumphant; and sometimes,<br /> +In intervals of too long labour, finding<br /> +His nature grown too strong for him, falls prone<br /> +Awhile a helpless prey, then once again<br /> +Rises and spurns his chains, and fares anew<br /> +Along the perilous ways. Dearest, I would<br /> +That thou wert wedded to some knight who stayed<br /> +At home within thy gates, and were content<br /> +To see thee happy. But for me the fierce<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span><br /> +Rude energies of life, the mighty thews,<br /> +The god-sent hate of Wrong, these drove me forth<br /> +To quench the thirst of battle. See, this maid,<br /> +This is the bride I destined for our son<br /> +Who grows to manhood. Do thou see to her<br /> +When I am dead, for soon I know again<br /> +The frenzy comes, and with it ceasing, death.<br /> +Go, therefore, ere I harm thee when my strength<br /> +Has lost its guidance. Thou wert rich in love,<br /> +Be now as rich in faith. Dear, for thy wrong<br /> +I do forgive thee.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i20">When I saw the glare<br /> +Of madness fire his eyes, and my ears heard<br /> +The groans the torture wrung from his great soul,<br /> +I fled with broken heart to the white shrine,<br /> +And knelt in prayer, but still my sad ear took<br /> +The agony of his cries.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">Then I who knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span><br /> +There was no hope in god or man for me<br /> +Who had destroyed my Love, and with him slain<br /> +The champion of the suffering race of men,<br /> +And knowing that my soul, though innocent<br /> +Of blood, was guilty of unfaith and vile<br /> +Mistrust, and wrapt in weakness like a cloak,<br /> +And made the innocent tool of hate and wrong,<br /> +Against all love and good; grown sick and filled<br /> +With hatred of myself, rose from my knees,<br /> +And went a little space apart, and found<br /> +A gnarled tree on the cliff, and with my scarf<br /> +Strangling myself, swung lifeless.</p> + +<p class="v0 i35">But in death<br /> +I found him not. For, building a vast pile<br /> +Of scented woods on Oeta, as they tell,<br /> +My hero with his own hand lighted it,<br /> +And when the mighty pyre flamed far and wide<br /> +Over all lands and seas, he climbed on it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span><br /> +And laid him down to die; but pitying Zeus,<br /> +Before the swift flames reached him, in a cloud<br /> +Descending, snatched the strong brave soul to heaven,<br /> +And set him mid the stars.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">Wherefore am I<br /> +Of all the blameless shades within this place<br /> +The most unhappy, if of blame, indeed,<br /> +I bear no load. For what is Sin itself,<br /> +But Error when we miss the road which leads<br /> +Up to the gate of heaven? Ignorance!<br /> +What if we be the cause of ignorance?<br /> +Being blind who might have seen! Yet do I know<br /> +But self-inflicted pain, nor stain there is<br /> +Upon my soul such as they bear who know<br /> +The dreadful scourge with which the stern judge still<br /> +Lashes their sins. I am forgiven, I know,<br /> +Who loved so much, and one day, if Zeus will,<br /> +I shall go free from hence, and join my Lord,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span><br /> +And be with him again."</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">And straight I seemed,<br /> +Passing, to look upon some scarce-spent life,<br /> +Which knows to-day the irony of Fate<br /> +In self-inflicted pain.</p> + +<p class="v4 i24">Together clung<br /> +The ghosts whom next I saw, bound three in one<br /> +By some invisible bond. A sire of port<br /> +God-like as Zeus, to whom on either hand<br /> +A tender stripling clung. I knew them well,<br /> +As all men know them. One fair youth spake low:<br /> +"Father, it does not pain me now, to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span><br /> +Drawn close to thee, and by a double bond,<br /> +With this my brother." And the other: "Nay,<br /> +Nor me, O father; but I bless the chain<br /> +Which binds our souls in union. If some trace<br /> +Of pain still linger, heed it not—'tis past:<br /> +Still let us cling to thee."</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">He with grave eyes<br /> +Full of great tenderness, upon his sons<br /> +Looked with the father's gaze, that is so far<br /> +More sweet, and sad, and tender, than the gaze<br /> +Of mothers,—now on this one, now on that,<br /> +Regarding them. "Dear sons, whom on the earth<br /> +I loved and cherished, it was hard to watch<br /> +Your pain; but now 'tis finished, and we stand<br /> +For ever, through all future days of time,<br /> +Symbols of patient suffering undeserved,<br /> +Endured and vanquished. Yet sad memory still<br /> +Brings back our time of trial.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i31">For the day<br /> +Broke fair when I, the dread Poseidon's priest,<br /> +Joyous because the unholy strife was done,<br /> +And seeing the blue waters now left free<br /> +Of hostile keels—save where upon the verge<br /> +Far off the white sails faded—rose at dawn,<br /> +And white robed, and in garb of sacrifice,<br /> +And with the sacred fillet round my brows,<br /> +Stood at the altar; and behind, ye twain,<br /> +Decked by your mother's hand with new-cleansed robes,<br /> +And with fresh flower-wreathed chaplets on your curls,<br /> +Attended, and your clear young voices made<br /> +Music that touched your father's eyes with tears,<br /> +If not the careless gods. I seem to hear<br /> +Those high sweet accents mounting in the hymn<br /> +Which rose to all the blessed gods who dwelt<br /> +Upon the far Olympus—Zeus, the Lord,<br /> +And Sovereign Heré, and the immortal choir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span><br /> +Of Deities, but chiefly to the dread<br /> +Poseidon, him who sways the purple sea<br /> +As with a sceptre, shaking the fixed earth<br /> +With stress of thundering surges. By the shrine<br /> +The meek-eyed victim, for the sacrifice,<br /> +Stood with his gilded horns. The hymns were done,<br /> +And I in act to strike, when all the crowd<br /> +Who knelt behind us, with a common fear<br /> +Cried, with a cry that well might freeze the blood,<br /> +And then, with fearful glances towards the sea,<br /> +Fled, leaving us alone—me, the high priest,<br /> +And ye, the acolytes; forlorn of men,<br /> +Alone, but with our god.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">But we stirred not:<br /> +We could not flee, who in the solemn act<br /> +Of worship, and the ecstasy which comes<br /> +To the believer's soul, saw heaven revealed,<br /> +The mysteries unveiled, the inner sky<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span><br /> +Which meets the enraptured gaze. How should we fear<br /> +Who thus were god-encircled! So we stood<br /> +While the long ritual spent itself, nor cast<br /> +An eye upon the sea. Till as I came<br /> +To that great act which offers up a life<br /> +Before life's Lord, and the full mystery<br /> +Was trembling to completion, quick I heard<br /> +A stifled cry of agony, and knew<br /> +My children's voices. And the father's heart,<br /> +Which is far more than rite or service done<br /> +By man for god, seeing that it is divine<br /> +And comes from God to men—this rising in me,<br /> +Constrained me, and I ceased my prayer, and turned<br /> +To succour you, and lo! the awful coils<br /> +Which crushed your lives already, bound me round<br /> +And crushed me also, as you clung to me,<br /> +In common death. Some god had heard the prayer,<br /> +And lo! we were ourselves the sacrifice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>—<br /> +The priest, the victim, the accepted life,<br /> +The blood, the pain, the salutary loss.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Was it not better thus to cease and die<br /> +Together in one blest moment, mid the flush<br /> +And ecstasy of worship, and to know<br /> +Ourselves the victims? They were wrong who taught<br /> +That 'twas some jealous goddess who destroyed<br /> +Our lives, revengeful for discovered wiles,<br /> +Or hateful of our land. Not readily<br /> +Should such base passions sway the immortal gods;<br /> +But rather do I hold it sooth indeed<br /> +That Zeus himself it was, who pitying<br /> +The ruin he foreknew, yet might not stay,<br /> +Since mightier Fate decreed it, sent in haste<br /> +Those dreadful messengers, and bade them take<br /> +The pious lives he loved, before the din<br /> +Of midnight slaughter woke, and the fair town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span><br /> +Flamed pitifully to the skies, and all<br /> +Was blood and ruin. Surely it was best<br /> +To die as we did, and in death to live,<br /> +A vision for all ages of high pain<br /> +Which passes into beauty, and is merged<br /> +In one accordant whole, as discords merge<br /> +In that great Harmony which ceaseless rings<br /> +From the tense chords of life, than to have lived<br /> +Our separate lives, and died our separate deaths,<br /> +And left no greater mark than drops which rain<br /> +Upon the unbounded sea. Those hosts which fell<br /> +Before the Scæan gate upon the sand,<br /> +Nor found a bard to sing their fate, but left<br /> +Their bones to dogs and kites—were they more blest<br /> +Than we who, in the people's sight before<br /> +Ilium's unshattered towers, lay down to die<br /> +Our swift miraculous death? Dear sons, and good,<br /> +Dear children of my love, how doubly dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span><br /> +For this our common sorrow; suffering weaves<br /> +Not only chains of darkness round, but binds<br /> +A golden glittering link, which though withdrawn<br /> +Or felt no longer, knits us soul to soul,<br /> +In indissoluble bonds, and draws our lives<br /> +So close, that though the individual life<br /> +Be merged, there springs a common life which grows<br /> +To such dread beauty, as has power to take<br /> +The sting from sorrow, and transform the pain<br /> +Into transcendent joy: as from the storm<br /> +The unearthly rainbow draws its myriad hues<br /> +And steeps the world in fairness. All our lives<br /> +Are notes that fade and sink, and so are merged<br /> +In the full harmony of Being. Dear sons,<br /> +Cling closer to me. Life nor Death has torn<br /> +Our lives asunder, as for some, but drawn<br /> +Their separate strands together in a knot<br /> +Closer than Life itself, stronger than Death,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span><br /> +Insoluble as Fate."</p> + +<p class="v0 i20">Then they three clung<br /> +Together—the strong father and young sons,<br /> +And in their loving eyes I saw the Pain<br /> +Fade into Joy, Suffering in Beauty lost,<br /> +And Death in Love!</p> + +<p class="v4 i19">By a still sullen pool,<br /> +Into its dark depths gazing, lay the ghost<br /> +Whom next I passed. In form, a lovely youth,<br /> +Scarce passed from boyhood. Golden curls were his,<br /> +And wide blue eyes. The semblance of a smile<br /> +Came on his lip—a girl's but for the down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span><br /> +Which hardly shaded it; but the pale cheek<br /> +Was soft as any maiden's, and his robe<br /> +Was virginal, and at his breast he bore<br /> +The perfumed amber cup which, when March comes<br /> +Gems the dry woods and windy wolds, and speaks<br /> +The resurrection.</p> + +<p class="v0 i18">Looking up, he said:<br /> +"Methought I saw her then, my love, my fair,<br /> +My beauty, my ideal; the dim clouds<br /> +Lifted, methought, a little—or was it<br /> +Fond Fancy only? For I know that here<br /> +No sunbeam cleaves the twilight, but a mist<br /> +Creeps over all the sky and fields and pools,<br /> +And blots them; and I know I seek in vain<br /> +My earth-sought beauty, nor can Fancy bring<br /> +An answer to my thought from these blind depths<br /> +And unawakened skies. Yet has use made<br /> +The quest so precious, that I keep it here,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span><br /> +Well knowing it is vain.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">On the old earth<br /> +'Twas otherwise, when in fair Thessaly<br /> +I walked regardless of all nymphs who sought<br /> +My love, but sought in vain, whether it were<br /> +Dryad or Naiad from the woods or streams,<br /> +Or white-robed Oread fleeting on the side<br /> +Of fair Olympus, echoing back my sighs,<br /> +In vain, for through the mountains day by day<br /> +I wandered, and along the foaming brooks,<br /> +And by the pine-woods dry, and never took<br /> +A thought for love, nor ever 'mid the throng<br /> +Of loving nymphs who knew me beautiful<br /> +I dallied, unregarding; till they said<br /> +Some died for love of me, who loved not one.<br /> +And yet I cared not, wandering still alone<br /> +Amid the mountains by the scented pines<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Till one fair day, when all the hills were still,<br /> +Nor any breeze made murmur through the boughs,<br /> +Nor cloud was on the heavens, I wandered slow,<br /> +Leaving the nymphs who fain with dance and song<br /> +Had kept me 'midst the glades, and strayed away<br /> +Among the pines, enwrapt in fantasy,<br /> +And by the beechen dells which clothe the feet<br /> +Of fair Olympus, wrapt in fantasy,<br /> +Weaving the thin and unembodied shapes<br /> +Which Fancy loves to body forth, and leave<br /> +In marble or in song; and so strayed down<br /> +To a low sheltered vale above the plains,<br /> +Where the lush grass grew thick, and the stream stayed<br /> +Its garrulous tongue; and last upon the bank<br /> +Of a still pool I came, where was no flow<br /> +Of water, but the depths were clear as air,<br /> +And nothing but the silvery gleaming side<br /> +Of tiny fishes stirred. There lay I down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span><br /> +Upon the flowery bank, and scanned the deep,<br /> +Half in a waking dream.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">Then swift there rose,<br /> +From those enchanted depths, a face more fair<br /> +Than ever I had dreamt of, and I knew<br /> +My sweet long-sought ideal: the thick curls,<br /> +Like these, were golden, and the white robe showed<br /> +Like this; but for the wondrous eyes and lips,<br /> +The tender loving glance, the sunny smile<br /> +Upon the rosy mouth, these knew I not,<br /> +Not even in dreams; and yet I seemed to trace<br /> +Myself within them too, as who should find<br /> +His former self expunged, and him transformed<br /> +To some high thin ideal, separate<br /> +From what he was, by some invisible bar,<br /> +And yet the same in difference. As I moved<br /> +My arms to clasp her to me, lo! she moved<br /> +Her eager arms to mine, smiled to my smile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span><br /> +Looked love to love, and answered longing eyes<br /> +With longing. When my full heart burst in words,<br /> +'Dearest, I love thee,' lo! the lovely lips,<br /> +'Dearest, I love thee,' sighed, and through the air<br /> +The love-lorn echo rang. But when I longed<br /> +To answer kiss with kiss, and stooped my lips<br /> +To her sweet lips in that long thrill which strains<br /> +Soul unto soul, the cold lymph came between<br /> +And chilled our love, and kept us separate souls<br /> +Which fain would mingle, and the self-same heaven<br /> +Rose, a blue vault above us, and no shade<br /> +Of earthly thing obscured us, as we lay<br /> +Two reflex souls, one and yet different,<br /> +Two sundered souls longing to be at one.</p> + +<p class="v1 i0">There, all day long, until the light was gone<br /> +And took my love away, I lay and loved<br /> +The image, and when night was come, 'Farewell,'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span><br /> +I whispered, and she whispered back, 'Farewell,'<br /> +With oh, such yearning! Many a day we spent<br /> +By that clear pool together all day long.<br /> +And many a clouded hour on the wet grass<br /> +I lay beneath the rain, and saw her not,<br /> +And sickened for her; and sometimes the pool<br /> +Was thick with flood, and hid her; and sometimes<br /> +Some cold wind ruffled those clear wells, and left<br /> +But glimpses of her, and I rose at eve<br /> +Unsatisfied, a cold chill in my limbs<br /> +And fever at my heart: until, too soon!<br /> +The summer faded, and the skies were hid,<br /> +And my love came not, but a quenchless thirst<br /> +Wasted my life. And all the winter long<br /> +The bright sun shone not, or the thick ribbed ice<br /> +Obscured her, and I pined for her, and knew<br /> +My life ebb from me, till I grew too weak<br /> +To seek her, fearing I should see no more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span><br /> +My dear. And so the long dead winter waned<br /> +And the slow spring came back.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">And one blithe day,<br /> +When life was in the woods, and the birds sang,<br /> +And soft airs fanned the hills, I knew again<br /> +Some gleam of hope within me, and again<br /> +With feeble limbs crawled forth, and felt the spring<br /> +Blossom within me; and the flower-starred glades,<br /> +The bursting trees, the building nests, the songs,<br /> +The hurry of life revived me; and I crept,<br /> +Ghost-like, amid the joy, until I flung<br /> +My panting frame, and weary nerveless limbs,<br /> +Down by the cold still pool.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">And lo! I saw<br /> +My love once more, not beauteous as of old,<br /> +But oh, how changed! the fair young cheek grown pale,<br /> +The great eyes, larger than of yore, gaze forth<br /> +With a sad yearning look; and a great pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span><br /> +And pity took me which were more than love,<br /> +And with a loud and wailing voice I cried,<br /> +'Dearest, I come again. I pine for thee,'<br /> +And swift she answered back, 'I pine for thee;'<br /> +'Come to me, oh, my own,' I cried, and she—<br /> +'Come to me, oh, my own.' Then with a cry<br /> +Of love I joined myself to her, and plunged<br /> +Beneath the icy surface with a kiss,<br /> +And fainted, and am here.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">And now, indeed,<br /> +I know not if it was myself I sought,<br /> +As some tell, or another. For I hold<br /> +That what we seek is but our other self,<br /> +Other and higher, neither wholly like<br /> +Nor wholly different, the half-life the gods<br /> +Retained when half was given—one the man<br /> +And one the woman; and I longed to round<br /> +The imperfect essence by its complement,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span><br /> +For only thus the perfect life stands forth<br /> +Whole, self-sufficing. Worse it is to live<br /> +Ill-mated than imperfect, and to move<br /> +From a false centre, not a perfect sphere,<br /> +But with a crooked bias sent oblique<br /> +Athwart life's furrows. 'Twas myself, indeed,<br /> +Thus only that I sought, that lovers use<br /> +To see in that they love, not that which is,<br /> +But that their fancy feigns, and view themselves<br /> +Reflected in their love, yet glorified,<br /> +And finer and more pure.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">Wherefore it is:<br /> +All love which finds its own ideal mate<br /> +Is happy—happy that which gives itself<br /> +Unto itself, and keeps, through long calm years,<br /> +The tranquil image in its eyes, and knows<br /> +Fulfilment and is blest, and day by day<br /> +Wears love like a white flower, nor holds it less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span><br /> +Though sharp winds bite, or hot suns fade, or age<br /> +Sully its perfect whiteness, but inhales<br /> +Its fragrance, and is glad. But happier still<br /> +He who long seeks a high goal unattained,<br /> +And wearies for it all his days, nor knows<br /> +Possession sate his thirst, but still pursues<br /> +The fleeting loveliness—now seen, now lost,<br /> +But evermore grown fairer, till at last<br /> +He stretches forth his arms and takes the fair<br /> +In one long rapture, and its name is Death."</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Thus he; and seeing me stand grave: "Farewell.<br /> +If ever thou shouldst happen on a wood<br /> +In Thessaly, upon the plain-ward spurs<br /> +Of fair Olympus, take the path which winds<br /> +Through the close vale, and thou shalt see the pool<br /> +Where once I found my life. And if in Spring<br /> +Thou go there, round the margin thou shalt know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span><br /> +These amber blooms bend meekly, smiling down<br /> +Upon the crystal surface. Pluck them not.<br /> +But kneel a little while, and breathe a prayer<br /> +To the fair god of Love, and let them be.<br /> +For in those tender flowers is hid the life<br /> +That once was mine. All things are bound in one<br /> +In earth and heaven, nor is there any gulf<br /> +'Twixt things that live,—the flower that was a life,<br /> +The life that is a flower,—but one sure chain<br /> +Binds all, as now I know.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">If there are still<br /> +Fair Oreads on the hills, say to them, sir,<br /> +They must no longer pine for me, but find<br /> +Some worthier lover, who can love again;<br /> +For I have found my love."</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">And to the pool<br /> +He turned, and gazed with lovely eyes, and showed<br /> +Fair as an angel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i17">Leaving him enwrapt<br /> +In musings, to a gloomy pass I came<br /> +Between dark rocks, where scarce a gleam of light,<br /> +Not even the niggard light of that dim land,<br /> +Might enter; and the soil was black and bare,<br /> +Nor even the thin growths which scarcely clothed<br /> +The higher fields might live. Hard by a cave<br /> +Which sloped down steeply to the lowest depths,<br /> +Whence dreadful sounds ascended, seated still,<br /> +Her head upon her hands, I saw a maid<br /> +With eyes fixed on the ground—not Tartarus<br /> +It was, but Hades; and she knew no pain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span><br /> +Except her painful thought. Yet there it seemed,<br /> +As here, the unequal measure which awaits<br /> +The adjustment, and meanwhile, inspires the strife<br /> +Which rears life's palace walls; and fills the sail<br /> +Which bears our bark across unfathomed seas,<br /> +To its last harbour; this bore sway there too,<br /> +And 'twas a luckless shade which sat and wept<br /> +Amid the gloom, though blameless. Suddenly,<br /> +She raised her head, and lo! the long curls, writhed<br /> +Tangled, and snake-like—as the dripping hair<br /> +Of a dead girl who freed from life and shame,<br /> +From out the cruel wintry flow, is laid<br /> +Stark on the snow with dreadful staring eyes<br /> +Like hers. For when she raised her eyes to mine,<br /> +They chilled my blood, so great a woe they bore;<br /> +And as she gazed, wide-eyed, I knew my pulse<br /> +Beat slow, and my limbs stiffen. Then they wore,<br /> +At length, a softer look, and life revived<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span><br /> +Within my breast as thus she softly spoke:</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">"Nay, friend, I would not harm thee. I have known<br /> +Great sorrow, and sometimes it racks me still,<br /> +And turns me into stone, and makes my eyes<br /> +As dreadful as of yore; and yet it comes<br /> +But seldom, as thou sawest, now, for Time<br /> +And Death have healing hands. Only I love<br /> +To sit within the darkness here, nor face<br /> +The throng of happier ghosts; if any ghost<br /> +Of happiness come here. For on the earth<br /> +They wronged me bitterly, and turned to stone<br /> +My heart, till scarce I knew if e'er I was<br /> +The happy girl of yore.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">That youth who dreams<br /> +Up yonder by the margin of the lake,<br /> +Knew but a cold ideal love, but me<br /> +Love in unearthly guise, but bodily form,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span><br /> +Seized and betrayed.</p> + +<p class="v0 i21">I was a priestess once,<br /> +Of stern Athené, doing day by day<br /> +Due worship; raising, every dawn that came,<br /> +My cold pure hymns to take her virgin ear;<br /> +Nor sporting with the joyous company<br /> +Of youths and maids, who at the neighbouring shrine<br /> +Of Aphrodité served. Nor dance nor song<br /> +Allured me, nor the pleasant days of youth<br /> +And twilights 'mid the vines. They held me cold<br /> +Who were my friends in childhood. For my soul<br /> +Was virginal, and at the virgin shrine<br /> +I knelt, athirst for knowledge. Day by day<br /> +The long cold ritual sped, the liturgies<br /> +Were done, the barren hymns of praise went up<br /> +Before the goddess, and the ecstasy<br /> +Of faith possessed me wholly, till almost<br /> +I knew not I was woman. Yet I knew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span><br /> +That I was fair to see, and fit to share<br /> +Some natural honest love, and bear the load<br /> +Of children like the rest; only my soul<br /> +Was lost in higher yearnings.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Like a god,<br /> +He burst upon those pallid lifeless days,<br /> +Bringing fresh airs and salt, as from the sea,<br /> +And wrecked my life. How should a virgin know<br /> +Deceit, who never at the joyous shrine<br /> +Of Cypris knelt, but ever lived apart,<br /> +And so grew guilty? For if I had spent<br /> +My days among the throng, either my fault<br /> +Were blameless, or undone. For innocence<br /> +The tempter spreads his net. For innocence<br /> +The gods keep all their terrors. Innocence<br /> +It is that bears the burden, which for guilt<br /> +Is lightened, and the spoiler goes his way,<br /> +Uncaring, joyous, leaving her alone,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span><br /> +The victim and unfriended.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">Was it just<br /> +In her, my mistress, who had had my youth,<br /> +To wreak such vengeance on me? I had erred,<br /> +It may be; but on him, whose was the guilt,<br /> +No heaven-sent vengeance lighted, but he sped<br /> +Away to other hearts across the deep,<br /> +Careless and free; but me, the cold stern eyes<br /> +Of the pure goddess withered; and the scorn<br /> +Of maids, despised before, and the great blank<br /> +Of love, whose love was gone—this wrung my heart,<br /> +And froze my blood; set on my brow despair,<br /> +And turned my gaze to stone, and filled my eyes<br /> +With horror, and stiffened the soft curls which once<br /> +Lay smooth and fair into such snake-like rings<br /> +As made my aspect fearful. All who saw,<br /> +Shrank from me and grew cold, and felt the warm,<br /> +Full tide of life freeze in them, seeing in me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span><br /> +Love's work, who sat wrapt up and lost in shame,<br /> +As in a cloak, consuming my own heart,<br /> +And was in hell already. As they gazed<br /> +Upon me, my despair looked forth so cold<br /> +From out my eyes, that if some spoiler came<br /> +Fresh from his wickedness, and looked on them,<br /> +Their glare would strike him dead; and those fair curls<br /> +Which once the accursèd toyed with, grew to be<br /> +The poisonous things thou seest; and so, with hate<br /> +Of man's injustice and the gods', who knew<br /> +Me blameless, and yet punished me; and sick<br /> +Of life and love, and loathing earth and sky,<br /> +And feeding on my sorrow, Hate at last<br /> +Left me a Fury.</p> + +<p class="v0 i16">Ah, the load of life<br /> +Which lives for hatred! We are made to love—<br /> +We women, and the injury which turns<br /> +The honey of our lives to gall, transforms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span><br /> +The angel to the fiend. For it is sweet<br /> +To know the dreadful sense of strength, and smite<br /> +And leave the tyrant dead with a glance; ay! sweet,<br /> +In that fierce lust of power, to slay the life<br /> +Which harmed not, when the suppliants' cry ascends<br /> +To ears which hate has deafened. So I lived<br /> +Long time in misery; to my sleepless eyes<br /> +No healing slumbers coming; but at length,<br /> +Zeus and the goddess pitying, I knew<br /> +Soft rest once more veiling my dreadful gaze<br /> +In peaceful slumbers. Then a blessed dream<br /> +I dreamt. For, lo! a god-like knight in mail<br /> +Of gold, who sheared with his keen flashing blade;<br /> +With scarce a pang of pain, the visage cold<br /> +Which too great sorrow left me; at one stroke<br /> +Clean from the trunk, and then o'er land and sea,<br /> +Invisible, sped with winged heels, to where,<br /> +Upon a sea-worn cape, a fair young maid,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span><br /> +More blameless even than I was, chained and bound,<br /> +Waited a monster from the deep and stood<br /> +In innocent nakedness. Then, as he rose,<br /> +Loathsome, from out the depths, a monstrous growth,<br /> +A creature wholly serpent, partly man,<br /> +The wrongs that I had known, stronger than death,<br /> +Rose up with such black hate in me again,<br /> +And wreathed such hissing poison through my hair,<br /> +And shot such deadly glances from my eyes,<br /> +That nought that saw might live. And the vile worm<br /> +Was slain, and she delivered. Then I dreamt<br /> +My mistress, whom I thought so stern to me,<br /> +Athené, set those dreadful staring eyes,<br /> +And that despairing visage, on her shield<br /> +Of chastity, and bears it evermore<br /> +To fright the waverer from the wrong he would,<br /> +And strike the unrepenting spoiler, dead.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>"</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then for a little paused she, while I saw<br /> +Again her eyes grown dreadful, till once more,<br /> +And with a softer glance:</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">"From that blest dream<br /> +I woke not on the earth, but only here.<br /> +And now my pain is lightened since I know<br /> +My dream, which was a dream within the dream<br /> +Which is our life, fulfilled. And I have saved<br /> +Another through my suffering, and through her<br /> +A people. Oh, strange chain of sacrifice,<br /> +That binds an innocent life, and from its blood<br /> +And sorrow works out joy! Oh, mystery<br /> +Of pain and evil! wrong grown salutary,<br /> +And mighty to redeem! If thou shouldst see<br /> +A woman on the earth, who pays to-day<br /> +Like penalty of sin, and the new gods<br /> +(For after Saturn, Zeus ruled; after him<br /> +It may be there are others) love to take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span><br /> +The tender heart of girlhood, and to immure<br /> +Within a cold and cloistered cell the life<br /> +Which nature meant to bless, and if Love come<br /> +Hold her accursèd; or to some poor maid,<br /> +Forlorn and trusting, still the tempter comes<br /> +And works his wrong, and leaves her in despair<br /> +And shame and all abhorrence, while he goes<br /> +His way unpunished,—if thou know her eyes<br /> +Freeze thee like mine—oh! bid her lose her pain<br /> +In succouring others—say to her that Time<br /> +And Death have healing hands, and here there comes<br /> +To the forgiven transgressor only pain<br /> +Enough to chasten joy!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">And a soft tear<br /> +Trembled within her eyes, and her sweet gaze<br /> +Was as the Magdalen's, the horror gone<br /> +And a great radiance come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i27">Then as I passed<br /> +To upper air, I saw two figures rise<br /> +Together, one a woman with a grave<br /> +Fair face not all unhappy, and the robes<br /> +And presence of a queen; and with her walked<br /> +The fairest youth that ever maiden's dream<br /> +Conceived. And as they came, the throng of ghosts,<br /> +For these who were not wholly ghosts, arose,<br /> +And did them homage. Not the chain of love<br /> +Bound them, but such calm kinship as is bred<br /> +Of long and difficult pilgrimages borne<br /> +Through common perils by two souls which share<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span><br /> +A common weary exile. Nor as ghosts<br /> +These showed, but rather like two lives which hung<br /> +Suspended in a trance. A halo of life<br /> +Played round them, and they brought a sweet brisk air<br /> +Tasting of earth and heaven, like sojourners<br /> +Who stayed but for awhile, and knew a swift<br /> +Release await them. First the youth it was<br /> +Who spake thus as they passed:</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">"Dread Queen, once more<br /> +I feel life stir within me, and my blood<br /> +Run faster, while a new strange cycle turns<br /> +And grows completed. Soon on the dear earth<br /> +Under the lively light of fuller day,<br /> +I shall revive me of my wound; and thou,<br /> +Passing with me yon cold and lifeless stream,<br /> +And the grim monster who will fawn on thee,<br /> +Shalt issue in royal pomp, and wreathed with flowers,<br /> +Upon the cheerful earth, leaving behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span><br /> +A deeper winter for the ghosts who dwell<br /> +Within these sunless haunts; and I shall lie<br /> +Once more within loved arms, and thou shalt see<br /> +Thy early home, and kiss thy mother's cheek,<br /> +And be a girl again. But not for long;<br /> +For ere the bounteous Autumn spreads her hues<br /> +Of gold and purple, a cold voice will call<br /> +And bring us to these wintry lands once more,<br /> +As erst so often. Blest are we, indeed,<br /> +Above the rest, and yet I would I knew<br /> +The careless joys of old.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">For in hot youth,<br /> +Oh, it was sweet to greet the balmy night<br /> +That was love's nurse, and feel the weary eyes<br /> +Closed by soft kisses,—sweet at early dawn<br /> +To wake refreshed and, scarce from loving arms<br /> +Leaping, to issue forth, with winding horn,<br /> +By dewy heath and brake, and taste the fair<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span><br /> +Young breath of early morning; and 'twas sweet<br /> +To chase the bounding quarry all day long<br /> +With my true hounds and rapid steed, and gay<br /> +Companions of my youth, and with the eve<br /> +To turn home laden with the spoil, and take<br /> +The banquet which awaited, and sweet wine<br /> +Poured out, and kisses pressed on loving lips;<br /> +Circled by snowy arms. Oh, it was sweet<br /> +To be alive and young!</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">For sure it is<br /> +The gods gave not quick pulses and hot blood<br /> +And strength and beauty for no end, but would<br /> +That we should use them wisely; and the fair,<br /> +Sweet mistress of my service was, indeed,<br /> +Worthy of all observance. Oh, her eyes<br /> +When I lay bleeding! All day long we rode,<br /> +I and my youthful peers, with horse and hound,<br /> +And knew the joy of swift pursuit and toil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span><br /> +And peril. At the last, a fierce boar turned<br /> +At bay, and with his gleaming tusks o'erthrew<br /> +My steed, and as I fell upon the flowers,<br /> +Pierced me as with a sword. Then, as I lay,<br /> +I knew the strange slow chill which, stealing, tells<br /> +The young that it is death. Yet knew I not<br /> +Of pain or fear, only great pity, indeed,<br /> +That she should lose her love, who was so fond<br /> +And gracious. But when, lifting my dim gaze,<br /> +I saw her bend o'er me,—the lovely eyes<br /> +Suffused with tears, and her sweet smile replaced<br /> +By agonized sorrow,—for a while I stayed<br /> +Life's ebbing tide, and raised my cold, white lips,<br /> +With a faint smile, to hers. Then, with a kiss—<br /> +One long last kiss, we mingled, and I knew<br /> +No more.</p> + +<p class="v0 i9">But even in death, so strong is Love,<br /> +I could not wholly die; and year by year,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span><br /> +When the bright springtime comes, and the earth lives,<br /> +Love opens these dread gates, and calls me forth<br /> +Across the gulf. Not here, indeed, she comes,<br /> +Being a goddess and in heaven, but smooths<br /> +My path to the old earth, where still I know<br /> +Once more the sweet lost days, and once again<br /> +Blossom on that soft breast, and am again<br /> +A youth, and rapt in love; and yet not all<br /> +As careless as of yore; but seem to know<br /> +The early spring of passion, tamed by time<br /> +And suffering, to a calmer, fuller flow,<br /> +Less fitful, but more strong."</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">Then the sad Queen<br /> +"Fair youth, thy lot I know, for I am old<br /> +As the old earth and yet as young as is<br /> +The budding spring, and I was here a Queen,<br /> +When Love was not or Time, and to my arms<br /> +Thou camest as a little child, to dwell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span><br /> +Within the halls of Death, for without Death<br /> +There were nor Birth nor Love, nor would Life yearn<br /> +To lose itself within another life,<br /> +And dying, to be born. I, too, have died<br /> +For love in part, and live again through love;<br /> +For in the far-off years, when Time was young,<br /> +And Love unborn on earth, and Zeus in heaven<br /> +Ruled, a young sovereign; I, a maiden, dwelt<br /> +With dread Demeter on the lovely plains<br /> +Of sunny Sicily. There, day by day,<br /> +I sported with the maiden goddesses,<br /> +In virgin freedom. Budding age made gay<br /> +Our lightsome feet, and on the flowery slopes<br /> +We wandered daily, gathering flowers to weave<br /> +In careless garlands for our locks, and passed<br /> +The days in innocent gladness. Thought of Love<br /> +There came not to us, for as yet the earth<br /> +Was virginal, nor yet had Eros come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span><br /> +With his delicious pain.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">And one fair morn—<br /> +Not all the ages blot it—on the side<br /> +Of Ætna we were straying. There was then<br /> +Summer nor winter, springtide nor the time<br /> +Of harvest, but the soft unfailing sun<br /> +Shone always, and the sowing time was one<br /> +With reaping; fruit and flower together sprung<br /> +Upon the trees; and blade and ripened ear<br /> +Together clothed the plains. There, as I strayed,<br /> +Sudden a black cloud down the rugged side<br /> +Of Ætna, mixed with fire and dreadful sound<br /> +Of thunder, rolled around me, and I heard<br /> +The maids who were my fellows turn and flee<br /> +With shrieks and cries for me.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">But I, I knew<br /> +No terror while the god o'ershadowed me,<br /> +Hiding my life in his, nor when I wept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span><br /> +My flowers all withered, and my blood ran slow<br /> +Within a wintry land. Some voice there was<br /> +Which said, 'Fear not. Thou shalt return and see<br /> +Thy mother again, only a little while<br /> +Fate wills that thou shouldst tarry, and become<br /> +Queen of another world. Thou seest that all<br /> +Thy flowers are faded. They shall live again<br /> +On earth, as thou shalt, as thou livest now<br /> +The Life of Death—for what is Death but Life<br /> +Suspended as in sleep? The changeless rule<br /> +Where life was constant, and the sun o'erhead,<br /> +Blazed forth for ever, changes and is hidden<br /> +Awhile. This region which thou seest, where all<br /> +The trees are lifeless, and the flowers are dead,<br /> +Is but the self-same earth on which erewhile<br /> +Thou sportedst fancy free.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">So, without fear<br /> +I wandered on this bare land, seeing far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span><br /> +Upon the sky the peaks of my own hills<br /> +And crests of my own woods. Till, when I grew<br /> +Hungered, ere yet another form I saw;<br /> +Along the silent alleys journeying,<br /> +And leafless groves; a fair and mystic tree<br /> +Rose like a heart in shape, and 'mid its leaves<br /> +One golden mystic fruit with a fair seed<br /> +Hid in it. This, with childish hand, I took<br /> +And ate, and straight I knew the tree was Life,<br /> +And the fruit Death, and the hid seed was Love.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Ah, sweet strange fruit! the which if any taste<br /> +They may no longer keep their lives of old<br /> +Or their own selves unchanged, but some weird change<br /> +And subtle alchemy comes which can transmute<br /> +The blood, and mould the spirits of gods and men<br /> +In some new magical form. Not as before,<br /> +Our life comes to us, though the passion cools,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span><br /> +No, never as before. My mother came<br /> +Too late to seek me. She had power to raise<br /> +A life from out Death's grasp, but from the arms<br /> +Of Love she might not take me, nor undo<br /> +Love's past for all her strength. She came and sought<br /> +With fires her daughter over land and sea,<br /> +Beyond the paths of all the setting stars,<br /> +In vain, and over all the earth in vain,<br /> +Seeking whom love disguised. Then on all lands<br /> +She cast the spell of barrenness; the wheat<br /> +Was blighted in the ear, the purple grapes<br /> +Blushed no more on the vines, and all the gods<br /> +Were sorrowful, seeing the load of ill<br /> +My rape had laid on men. Last, Zeus himself,<br /> +Pitying the evil that was done, sent forth<br /> +His messenger beyond the western rim<br /> +To fetch me back to earth.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">But not the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span><br /> +He found me who had eaten of Love's seed,<br /> +But changed into another; nor could his power<br /> +Prevail to keep me wholly on the earth,<br /> +Or make me maid again. The wintry life<br /> +Is homelier often than the summer blaze<br /> +Of happiness unclouded; so, when Spring<br /> +Comes on the world, I, coming, cross with thee,<br /> +Year after year, the cruel icy stream;<br /> +And leave this anxious sceptre and the shades<br /> +Of those in hell, or those for whom, though blest,<br /> +No Spring comes, till the last great Spring which brings<br /> +New heavens and new earth; and lay my head<br /> +Upon my mother's bosom, and grow young,<br /> +And am a girl again.</p> + +<p class="v0 i21">A soft air breathes<br /> +Across the stream and fills these barren fields<br /> +With the sweet odours of the earth. I know<br /> +Again the perfume of the violets<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span><br /> +Which bloom on Ætna's side. Soon we shall pass<br /> +Together to our home, while round our feet<br /> +The crocus flames like gold, the wind-flowers white<br /> +Wave their soft petals on the breeze, and all<br /> +The choir of flowers lift up their silent song<br /> +To the unclouded heavens. Thou, fair boy,<br /> +Shalt lie within thy love's white arms again,<br /> +And I within my mother's. Sweet is Love<br /> +In ceasing and renewal; nay, in these<br /> +It lives and has its being. Thou couldst not keep<br /> +Thy youth as now, if always on the breast<br /> +Of love too late a lingerer thou hadst known<br /> +Possession sate thee. Nor might I have kept<br /> +My mother's heart, if I had lived to ripe<br /> +And wither on the stalk. Time calls and Change<br /> +Commands both men and gods, and speeds us on<br /> +We know not whither; but the old earth smiles<br /> +Spring after Spring, and the seed bursts again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span><br /> +Out of its prison mould, and the dead lives<br /> +Renew themselves, and rise aloft and soar<br /> +And are transformed, clothing themselves with change<br /> +Till the last change be done."</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">As thus she spake,<br /> +I saw a gleam of light flash from the eyes<br /> +Of all the listening shades, and a great joy<br /> +Thrill through the realms of Death.</p> + +<p class="v4 i36">And then again<br /> +A youthful shade I saw, a comely boy,<br /> +With lip and cheek just touched with manly down,<br /> +And strong limbs wearing Spring; in mien and garb<br /> +A youthful chieftain, with a perfect face<br /> +Of fresh young beauty, clustered curls divine,<br /> +And chiselled features like a sculptured god,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span><br /> +But warm and breathing life; only the eyes,<br /> +The fair large eyes, were full of dreaming thought,<br /> +And seemed to gaze beyond the world of sight,<br /> +On a hid world of beauty. Him I stayed,<br /> +Accosting with soft words of courtesy;<br /> +And, on a bank of scentless flowers reclined,<br /> +He answered thus:</p> + +<p class="v0 i18">"Not for the garish sun<br /> +I long, nor for the splendours of high noon<br /> +In this dim land I languish; for of yore<br /> +Full often, when the swift chase swept along<br /> +Through the brisk morn, or when my comrades called<br /> +To wrestling, or the foot-race, or to cleave<br /> +The sunny stream, I loved to walk apart,<br /> +Self-centred, sole; and when the laughing girls<br /> +To some fair stripling's oaten melody<br /> +Made ready for the dance, I heeded not;<br /> +Nor when to the loud trumpet's blast and blare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span><br /> +My peers rode forth to battle. For, one eve,<br /> +In Latmos, after a long day in June,<br /> +I stayed to rest me on a sylvan hill,<br /> +Where often youth and maid were wont to meet<br /> +Towards moonrise; and deep slumber fell on me<br /> +Musing on Love, just as the ruddy orb<br /> +Rose on the lucid night, set in a frame<br /> +Of blooming myrtle and sharp tremulous plane;<br /> +Deep slumber fell, and loosed my limbs in rest.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then, as the full orb poised upon the peak,<br /> +There came a lovely vision of a maid,<br /> +Who seemed to step as from a golden car<br /> +Out of the low-hung moon. No mortal form,<br /> +Such as ofttimes of yore I knew and clasped<br /> +At twilight 'mid the vines at the mad feast<br /> +Of Dionysus, or the fair maids cold<br /> +Who streamed in white processions to the shrine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span><br /> +Of the chaste Virgin Goddess; but a shape<br /> +Richer and yet more pure. No thinnest veil<br /> +Obscured her; but each exquisite limb revealed,<br /> +Gleamed like a golden statue subtly wrought<br /> +By a great sculptor on the architrave<br /> +Of some high temple-front—only in her<br /> +The form was soft and warm, and charged with life,<br /> +And breathing. As I seemed to gaze on her,<br /> +Nearer she drew and gazed; and as I lay<br /> +Supine, as in a spell, the radiance stooped<br /> +And kissed me on the lips, a chaste, sweet kiss,<br /> +Which drew my spirit with it. So I slept<br /> +Each night upon the hill, until the dawn<br /> +Came in her silver chariot from the East,<br /> +And chased my Love away. But ever thus<br /> +Dissolved in love as in a heaven-sent dream,<br /> +Whenever the bright circle of the moon<br /> +Climbed from the hills, whether in leafy June<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span><br /> +Or harvest-tide, or when they leapt and pressed<br /> +Red-thighed the spouting must, I walked apart<br /> +From all, and took no thought for mortal maid,<br /> +Nor nimble joys of youth; but night by night<br /> +I stole, when all were sleeping, to the hill,<br /> +And slumbered and was blest; until I grew<br /> +Possest by love so deep, I seemed to live<br /> +In slumber only, while the waking day<br /> +Showed faint as any vision.</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">So I turned<br /> +Paler and paler with the months, and climbed<br /> +The steep with laboured steps and difficult breath,<br /> +But still I climbed. Ay, though the wintry frost<br /> +Chained fast the streams and whitened all the fields,<br /> +I sought my mistress through the leafless groves,<br /> +And slumbered and was happy, till the dawn<br /> +Returning found me stretched out, cold and stark,<br /> +With life's fire nigh burnt out. Till one clear night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span><br /> +When the birds shivered in the pines, and all<br /> +The inner heavens stood open, lo! she came,<br /> +Brighter and kinder still, and kissed my eyes<br /> +And half-closed lips, and drew my soul through them,<br /> +And in one precious ecstasy dissolved<br /> +My life. And thenceforth, ever on the hill<br /> +I lie unseen of man; a cold, white form,<br /> +Still young, through all the ages; but my soul,<br /> +Clothed in this thin presentment of old days,<br /> +Walks this dim land, where never moonrise comes,<br /> +Nor day-break, but a twilight waiting-time,<br /> +No more; and, ah! how weary! Yet I judge<br /> +My lot a higher far than his who spends<br /> +His youth on swift hot pleasure, quickly past;<br /> +Or theirs, my equals', who through long calm years<br /> +Grew sleek in dull content of wedded lives<br /> +And fair-grown offspring. Many a day for them,<br /> +While I was wandering here, and my bones bleached<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span><br /> +Upon the rocks, the sweet autumnal sun<br /> +Beamed, and the grapes grew purple. Many a day<br /> +They heaped up gold, they knelt at festivals,<br /> +They waxed in high report and fame of men,<br /> +They gave their girls in marriage; while for me<br /> +Upon the untrodden peaks, the cold, grey morn,<br /> +The snows, the rains, the winds, the untempered blaze,<br /> +Beat year by year, until I turned to stone,<br /> +And the great eagles shrieked at me, and wheeled<br /> +Affrighted. Yet I judge it better indeed<br /> +To seek in life, as now I know I sought,<br /> +Some fair impossible Love, which slays our life,<br /> +Some fair ideal raised too high for man;<br /> +And failing to grow mad, and cease to be,<br /> +Than to decline, as they do who have found<br /> +Broad-paunched content and weal and happiness:<br /> +And so an end. For one day, as I know,<br /> +The high aim unfulfilled fulfils itself;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span><br /> +The deep, unsatisfied thirst is satisfied;<br /> +And through this twilight, broken suddenly,<br /> +The inmost heaven, the lucent stars of God,<br /> +The Moon of Love, the Sun of Life; and I,<br /> +I who pine here—I on the Latmian hill<br /> +Shall soar aloft and find them."</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">With the word,<br /> +There beamed a shaft of dawn athwart the skies,<br /> +And straight the sentinel thrush within the yew<br /> +Sang out reveillé to the hosts of day,<br /> +Soldierly; and the pomp and rush of life<br /> +Began once more, and left me there alone<br /> +Amid the awaking world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i24">Nay, not alone.<br /> +One fair shade lingered in the fuller day,<br /> +The last to come, when now my dream had grown<br /> +Half mixed with waking thoughts, as grows a dream<br /> +In summer mornings when the broader light<br /> +Dazzles the sleeper's eyes; and is most fair<br /> +Of all and best remembered, and becomes<br /> +Part of our waking life, when older dreams<br /> +Grow fainter, and are fled. So this remained<br /> +The fairest of the visions that I knew,<br /> +Most precious and most dear.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">The increasing light<br /> +Shone through her, finer than the thinnest shade,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span><br /> +And yet most full of beauty; golden wings,<br /> +From her fair shoulders springing, seemed to lift<br /> +Her stainless feet from the cold ground and snatch<br /> +Their wearer into air; and in her eyes<br /> +Was such fair glance as comes from virgin love,<br /> +Long chastened and triumphant. Every trace<br /> +Of earth had vanished from her, and she showed<br /> +As one who walks a saint already in life,<br /> +Virgin or mother. Immortality<br /> +Breathed from those radiant eyes which yet had passed<br /> +Between the gates of death. I seemed to hear<br /> +The Soul of mortals speaking:</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">"I was born<br /> +Of a great race and mighty, and was grown<br /> +Fair, as they said, and good, and kept a life<br /> +Pure from all stain of passion. Love I knew not,<br /> +Who was absorbed in duty; and the Mother<br /> +Of gods and men, seeing my life more calm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span><br /> +Than human, hating my impassive heart,<br /> +Sent down her perfect son in wrath to earth,<br /> +And bade him break me.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">But when Eros came,<br /> +It did repent him of the task, for Love<br /> +Is kin to Duty.</p> + +<p class="v0 i16">And within my life<br /> +I knew miraculous change, and a soft flame<br /> +Wherefrom the snows of Duty flushed to rose,<br /> +And the chill icy flow of mind was turned<br /> +To a warm stream of passion. Long I lived<br /> +Not knowing what had been, nor recognized<br /> +A Presence walking with me through my life,<br /> +As if by night, his face and form concealed:<br /> +A gracious voice alone, which none but I<br /> +Might hear, sustained me, and its name was Love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Not as the earthly loves which throb and flush<br /> +Round earthly shrines was mine, but a pure spirit,<br /> +Lovelier than all embodied love, more pure<br /> +And wonderful; but never on his eyes<br /> +I looked, which still were hidden, and I knew not<br /> +The fashion of his nature; for by night,<br /> +When visual eyes are blind, but the soul sees,<br /> +Came he, and bade me seek not to enquire<br /> +Or whence he came or wherefore. Nor knew I<br /> +His name. And always ere the coming day,<br /> +As if he were the Sun-god, lingering<br /> +With some too well-loved maiden, he would rise<br /> +And vanish until eve. But all my being<br /> +Thrilled with my fair unearthly visitant<br /> +To higher duty and more glorious meed<br /> +Of action than of old, for it was Love<br /> +That came to me, who might not know his name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Thus, ever rapt by dreams divine, I knew<br /> +The scorn that comes from weaker souls, which miss,<br /> +Being too low of nature, the great joy<br /> +Revealed to others higher; nay, my sisters,<br /> +Who being of one blood with me, made choice<br /> +To tread the lower ways of daily life,<br /> +Grew jealous of me, bidding me take heed<br /> +Lest haply 'twas some monstrous fiend I loved,<br /> +Such as in fable ofttimes sought and won<br /> +The innocent hearts of maids. Long time I held<br /> +My love too dear for doubt, who was so sweet<br /> +And lovable. But at the last the sneers,<br /> +The mystery which hid him, the swift flight<br /> +Before the coming dawn, the shape concealed,<br /> +The curious girlish heart, these worked on me<br /> +With an unsatisfied thirst. Not his own words:<br /> +'Dear, I am with thee only while I keep<br /> +My visage hidden; and if thou once shouldst see<br /> +My face, I must forsake thee: the high gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span><br /> +Link Love with Faith, and he withdraws himself<br /> +From the full gaze of Knowledge'—not even these<br /> +Could cure me of my longing, or the fear<br /> +Those mocking voices worked; who fain would learn<br /> +The worst that might befall.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">And one sad night,<br /> +Just as the day leapt from the hills and brought<br /> +The hour when he should go: with tremulous hands,<br /> +Lighting my midnight lamp in fear, I stood<br /> +Long time uncertain, and at length turned round<br /> +And gazed upon my love. He lay asleep,<br /> +And oh, how fair he was! The flickering light<br /> +Fell on the fairest of the gods, stretched out<br /> +In happy slumber. Looking on his locks<br /> +Of gold, and faultless face and smile, and limbs<br /> +Made perfect, a great joy and trembling took me<br /> +Who was most blest of women, and in awe<br /> +And fear I stooped to kiss him. One warm drop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>—<br /> +From the full lamp within my trembling hand,<br /> +Or a glad tear from my too happy eyes,<br /> +Fell on his shoulder.</p> + +<p class="v0 i22">Then the god unclosed<br /> +His lovely eyes, and with great pity spake:<br /> +'Farewell! There is no Love except with Faith,<br /> +And thine is dead! Farewell! I come no more.'<br /> +And straightway from the hills the full red sun<br /> +Leapt up, and as I clasped my love again,<br /> +The lovely vision faded from his place,<br /> +And came no more.</p> + +<p class="v0 i18">Then I, with breaking heart,<br /> +Knowing my life laid waste by my own hand,<br /> +Went forth and would have sought to hide my life<br /> +Within the stream of Death; but Death came not<br /> +To aid me who not yet was meet for Death<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then finding that Love came not back to me,<br /> +I thought that in the temples of the gods<br /> +Haply he dwelt, and so from fane to fane<br /> +I wandered over earth, and knelt in each,<br /> +Enquiring for my Love; and I would ask<br /> +The priests and worshippers, 'Is this Love's shrine?<br /> +Sirs, have you seen the god?' But never at all<br /> +I found him. For some answered, 'This is called<br /> +The Shrine of Knowledge;' and another, 'This,<br /> +The Shrine of Beauty;' and another, 'Strength;'<br /> +And yet another, 'Youth.' And I would kneel<br /> +And say a prayer to my Love, and rise<br /> +And seek another. Long, o'er land and sea,<br /> +I wandered, till I was not young or fair,<br /> +Grown wretched, seeking my lost Love; and last,<br /> +Came to the smiling, hateful shrine where ruled<br /> +The queen of earthly love and all delight,<br /> +Cypris, but knelt not there, but asked of one<br /> +Who seemed her priest, if Eros dwelt with her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then to the subtle-smiling goddess' self<br /> +They led me. She with hatred in her eyes:<br /> +'What! thou to seek for Love, who art grown thin<br /> +And pale with watching! He is not for thee.<br /> +What Love is left for such? Thou didst despise<br /> +Love, and didst dwell apart. Love sits within<br /> +The young maid's eyes, making them beautiful.<br /> +Love is for youth, and joy, and happiness;<br /> +And not for withered lives. Ho! bind her fast.<br /> +Take her and set her to the vilest tasks,<br /> +And bend her pride by solitude and tears,<br /> +Who will not kneel to me, but dares to seek<br /> +A disembodied love. My son has gone<br /> +And left thee for thy fault, and thou shalt know<br /> +The misery of my thralls.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">Then in her house<br /> +They bound me to hard tasks and vile, and kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span><br /> +My life from honour, chained among her slaves<br /> +And lowest ministers, taking despite<br /> +And injury for food, and set to bind<br /> +Their wounds whom she had tortured, and to feed<br /> +The pitiful lives which in her prisons pent<br /> +Languished in hopeless pain. There is no sight<br /> +Of suffering but I saw it, and was set<br /> +To succour it; and all my woman's heart<br /> +Was torn with the ineffable miseries<br /> +Which love and life have worked; and dwelt long time<br /> +In groanings and in tears.</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">And then, oh joy!<br /> +Oh miracle! once more at length again<br /> +I felt Love's arms around me, and the kiss<br /> +Of Love upon my lips, and in the chill<br /> +Of deepest prison cells, 'mid vilest tasks,<br /> +The glow of his sweet breath, and the warm touch<br /> +Of his invisible hand, and his sweet voice,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span><br /> +Ay, sweeter than of old, and tenderer,<br /> +Speak to me, pierce me, hold me, fold me round<br /> +With arms Divine, till all the sordid earth<br /> +Was hued like heaven, and Life's dull prison-house<br /> +Turned to a golden palace, and those low tasks<br /> +Grew to be higher works and nobler gains<br /> +Than any gains of knowledge, and at last<br /> +He whispered softly, 'Dear, unclose thine eyes.<br /> +Thou mayst look on me now. I go no more,<br /> +But am thine own for ever.'</p> + +<p class="v0 i28">Then with wings<br /> +Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes,<br /> +Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land,<br /> +Scarce for an instant staying till we reached<br /> +The inmost courts of heaven.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">But sometimes still<br /> +I come here for a little, and speak a word<br /> +Of peace to those who wait. The slow wheel turns,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span><br /> +The cycles round themselves and grow complete,<br /> +The world's year whitens to the harvest-tide,<br /> +And one word only am I sent to say<br /> +To those dear souls, who wait here, or who now<br /> +Breathe earthly air—one universal word<br /> +To all things living, and the word is 'Love.'"</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then soared she visibly before my gaze,<br /> +And the heavens took her, and I knew my eyes<br /> +Had seen the soul of man, the deathless soul,<br /> +Defeated, struggling, purified, and blest.</p> + +<p class="v4 i2">Then all the choir of happy waiting shades,<br /> +Heroes and queens, fair maidens and brave youths,<br /> +Swept by me, rhythmic, slow, as if they trod<br /> +Some unheard measure, passing where I stood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span><br /> +In fair procession, each with a faint smile<br /> +Upon the lip, signing "Farewell, oh shade!<br /> +It shall be well with thee, as 'tis with us,<br /> +If only thou art true. The world of Life,<br /> +The world of Death, are but opposing sides<br /> +Of one great orb, and the Light shines on both.<br /> +Oh, happy happy shade! Farewell! Farewell!"<br /> +And so they passed away.</p> +<div><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<p class="center">END OF BOOK II.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span></p> + +<div> +<br /> +<br /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III.<br /> +<br /> +OLYMPUS.</h2> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v4 i25">But I, my gaze<br /> +Following the soaring soul which now was lost<br /> +In the awakening skies, floated with her,<br /> +As in a trance, beyond the golden gates<br /> +Which separate Earth from Heaven; and to my thought<br /> +Gladdened by that broad effluence of light,<br /> +This old earth seemed transfigured, and the fields,<br /> +So dim and bare, grew green and clothed themselves<br /> +With lustrous hues. A fine ethereal air<br /> +Played round me as I mused, and filled the soul<br /> +With an ineffable content. What need<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span><br /> +Of words to tell of things unreached by words?<br /> +Or seek to engrave upon the treacherous thought<br /> +The fair and fugitive fancies of a dream,<br /> +Which vanish ere we fix them?</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">But methinks<br /> +He knows the scene, who knows the one fair day,<br /> +One only and no more, which year by year<br /> +In springtime comes, when lingering winter flies,<br /> +And lo! the trees blossom in white and pink.<br /> +And golden clusters, and the glades are filled<br /> +With delicate primrose and deep odorous beds<br /> +Of violets, and on the tufted meads<br /> +With kingcups starred, and cowslip bells, and blue<br /> +Sweet hyacinths, and frail anemones,<br /> +The broad West wind breathes softly, and the air<br /> +Is tremulous with the lark, and thro' the woods<br /> +The soft full-throated thrushes all day long<br /> +Flood the green dells with joy, and thro' the dry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span><br /> +Brown fields the sower strides, sowing his seed,<br /> +And all is life and song. Or he who first,<br /> +Whether in fair free boyhood, when the world<br /> +Is his to choose, or when his fuller life<br /> +Beats to another life, or afterwards,<br /> +Keeping his youth within his children's eyes,<br /> +Looks on the snow-clad everlasting hills,<br /> +And marks the sunset smite them, and is glad<br /> +Of the beautiful fair world.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">A springtide land<br /> +It seemed, where East winds came not. Sweetest song<br /> +Was everywhere, by glade or sunny plain;<br /> +And thro' the golden valleys winding streams<br /> +Rippled in glancing silver, and above,<br /> +The blue hills rose, and over all a peak,<br /> +White, awful, with a constant fleece of cloud<br /> +Veiling its summit, towered. Unfailing Day<br /> +Lighted it, for no turn of dawn and eve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span><br /> +Came there, nor changing seasons, but a broad<br /> +Fixed joy of Being, undisturbed by Time.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">There, in a happy glade shut in by groves<br /> +Of laurel and sweet myrtle, on a green<br /> +And flower-lit lawn, I seemed to see the ghosts<br /> +Of the old gods. Upon the gentle slope<br /> +Of a fair hill, a joyous company,<br /> +The Immortals lay. Hard by, a murmurous stream<br /> +Fell through the flowers; below them, space on space,<br /> +Laughed the immeasurable plains; beyond,<br /> +The mystic mountain soared. Height after height<br /> +Of bare rock ledges left the climbing pines,<br /> +And reared their giddy, shining terraces<br /> +Into the ethereal air. Above, the snows<br /> +Of the white summit cleft the fleece of cloud<br /> +Which always clothed it round.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">Ah, fail-and sweet,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span><br /> +Yet with a ghostly fairness, fine and thin,<br /> +Those godlike Presences. Not dreams indeed,<br /> +But something dream-like, were they. Blessed Shades<br /> +Heroic and Divine, as when, in days<br /> +When Man was young, and Time, the vivid thought<br /> +Translated into Form the unattained<br /> +Impossible Beauty of men's dreams, and fixed<br /> +The Loveliness in marble.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">As with awe<br /> +Following my spotless guide, I stood apart,<br /> +Not daring to draw near; a shining form<br /> +Rose from the throng, and floated, light as air,<br /> +To where I trembled. And I knew the face<br /> +And form of Artemis, the fair, the pure,<br /> +The undefiled. A crescent silvery moon<br /> +Shone thro' her locks, and by her side she bore<br /> +A quiver of golden darts. At sight of whom<br /> +I felt a sudden chill, like his who once<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span><br /> +Looked upon her and died; yet could not fear,<br /> +Seeing how fair she was. Her sweet voice rang<br /> +Clear as a bird's:</p> + +<p class="v0 i19">"Mortal, what fate hath brought<br /> +Thee hither, uncleansed by death? How canst thou breathe<br /> +Immortal air, being mortal? Yet fear not,<br /> +Since thou art come. For we too are of earth<br /> +Whom here thou seest: there were not a heaven<br /> +Were there no earth, nor gods, had men not been,<br /> +But each the complement of each and grown<br /> +The other's creature, is and has its being,<br /> +A double essence, Human and Divine.<br /> +So that the God is hidden in the man,<br /> +And something Human bounds and forms the God;<br /> +Which else had shown too great and undefined<br /> +For mortal sight, and having no human eye<br /> +To see it, were unknown. But we who bore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span><br /> +Sway of old time, we were but attributes<br /> +<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>Of the great God who is all Things that be—<br /> +The Pillar of the Earth and starry Sky,<br /> +The Depth of the great Deep; the Sun, the Moon,<br /> +The Word which Makes; the All-compelling Love—<br /> +For all Things lie within His Infinite Form."</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Even as she spake, a throng of heavenly forms<br /> +Floated around me, filling all my soul<br /> +With fair unearthly beauty, and the air<br /> +With such ambrosial perfume as is born.<br /> +When morning bursts upon a tropic sea,<br /> +From boundless wastes of flowers; and as I knelt<br /> +In rapture, lo! the same clear voice again<br /> +From out the throng of gods:</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">"Those whom thou seest<br /> +Were even as I, embodiments of Him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span><br /> +Who is the Centre of all Life: myself<br /> +The Maiden-Queen of Purity; and Strength,<br /> +Divine when unabused; Love too, the Spring<br /> +And Cause of Things; and Knowledge, which lays bare<br /> +Their secret; and calm Duty, Queen of all,<br /> +And Motherhood in one; and Youth, which bears,<br /> +Beauty of Form and Life and Light, and breathes<br /> +The breath of Inspiration; and the Soul,<br /> +The particle of God, sent down to man,<br /> +Which doth in turn reveal the world and God.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Wherefore it is men called on Artemis,<br /> +The refuge of young souls; for still in age<br /> +They keep some dim reflection uneffaced<br /> +Of a Diviner Purity than comes<br /> +To the spring days of youth, when all the world<br /> +Smiles, and the rapid blood thro' the young veins<br /> +Courses, and all is glad; yet knowing too<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span><br /> +That innocence is young—before the soil<br /> +And smirch of sadder knowledge, settling on it,<br /> +Sully its primal whiteness. So they knelt<br /> +At my white shrines, the eager vigorous youths,<br /> +To whom life's road showed like a dewy field<br /> +In early summer dawns, when to the sound<br /> +Of youth's clear voice, and to the cheerful rush<br /> +Of the tumultuous feet and clamorous tongues<br /> +Careering onwards, fair and dappled fawns,<br /> +Strange birds with jewelled plumes, fierce spotted pards,<br /> +Rise in the joyous chase, to be caught and bound<br /> +By the young conqueror; nor yet the charm<br /> +Of sensual ease allures. And they knelt too,<br /> +The pure sweet maidens fair and fancy-free,<br /> +Whose innocent virgin hearts shrank from the touch<br /> +Of passion as from wrong—sweet moonlit lives<br /> +Which fade, and pale, and vanish, in the glare<br /> +Of Love's hot noontide: these came robed in white,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span><br /> +With holy hymns and soaring liturgies:<br /> +And so men fabled me, a huntress now,<br /> +Borne thro' the flying woodlands, fair and free;<br /> +And now the pale cold Moon, Light without warmth,<br /> +Zeal without touch of passion, heavenly love<br /> +For human, and the altar for the home.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">But oh, how sweet it was to take the love<br /> +And awe of my young worshippers; to watch<br /> +The pure young gaze and hear the pure young voice<br /> +Mount in the hymn, or see the gay troop come<br /> +With the first dawn of day, brushing the dew<br /> +From the unpolluted fields, and wake to song<br /> +The slumbering birds; strong in their innocence!<br /> +I did not envy any goddess of all<br /> +The Olympian company her votaries!<br /> +Ah, happy days of old which now are gone!<br /> +A memory and a dream! for now on earth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span><br /> +I rule no longer o'er young willing hearts<br /> +In voluntary fealty, which should cease<br /> +When Love, with fiery accents calling, woke<br /> +The slumbering soul; as now it should for those<br /> +Who kneel before the purer, sadder shrine<br /> +Which has replaced my own. But ah! too oft,<br /> +Not always, but too often, shut from life<br /> +Within pale life-long cloisters and the bars<br /> +Of deadly convent prisons, year by year,<br /> +Age after age, the white souls fade and pine<br /> +Which simulate the joyous service free<br /> +Of those young worshippers. I would that I<br /> +Might loose the captives' chain; or Herakles,<br /> +Who was a mortal once.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>"</p> + +<p class="v4 i23">But he who stood<br /> +Colossal at my side:</p> + +<p class="v0 i21">"I toil no more<br /> +On earth, nor wield again the mighty strength<br /> +Which Zeus once gave me for the cure of ill.<br /> +I have run my race; I have done my work; I rest<br /> +For ever from the toilsome days I gave<br /> +To the suffering race of men. And yet, indeed,<br /> +Methinks they suffer still. Tyrannous growths<br /> +And monstrous vex them still. Pestilence lurks<br /> +And sweeps them down. Treacheries come, and wars,<br /> +And slay them still. Vaulting ambition leaps<br /> +And falls in bloodshed still. But I am here<br /> +At rest, and no man kneels to me, or keeps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span><br /> +Reverence for strength mighty yet unabused—<br /> +Strength which is Power, God's choicest gift, more rare<br /> +And precious than all Beauty, or the charm<br /> +Of Wisdom, since it is the instrument<br /> +Thro' which all Nature works. For now the earth<br /> +Is full of meekness, and a new God rules,<br /> +Teaching strange precepts of humility<br /> +And mercy and forgiveness. Yet I trow<br /> +There is no lack of bloodshed and deceit<br /> +And groanings, and the tyrant works his wrong<br /> +Even as of old; but now there is no arm<br /> +Like mine, made strong by Zeus, to beat him down,<br /> +Him and his wrong together. Yet I know<br /> +I am not all discrowned. The strong brave souls,<br /> +The manly tender hearts, whom tale of wrong<br /> +To woman or child, to all weak things and small,<br /> +Fires like a blow; calling the righteous flush<br /> +Of anger to the brow; knotting the cords<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span><br /> +Of muscle on the arm; with one desire<br /> +To hew the spoiler down, and make an end,<br /> +And go their way for others; making light<br /> +Of toil and pain, and too laborious days,<br /> +And peril; beat unchanged, albeit they serve<br /> +A Lord of meekness. For the world still needs<br /> +Its champion as of old, and finds him still.<br /> +Not always now with mighty sinews and thews<br /> +Like mine, though still these profit, but keen brain<br /> +And voice to move men's souls to love the right<br /> +And hate the wrong; even tho' the bodily form<br /> +Be weak, of giant strength, strong to assail<br /> +The hydra heads of Evil, and to slay<br /> +The monsters that now waste them: Ignorance,<br /> +Self-seeking, coward fears, the hate of Man,<br /> +Disguised as love of God. These there are still<br /> +With task as hard as mine. For what was it<br /> +To strive with bodily ills, and do great deeds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span><br /> +Of daring and of strength, and bear the crown,<br /> +To his who wages lifelong, doubtful strife<br /> +With an impalpable foe; conquering indeed,<br /> +But, ere he hears the pæan or sees the pomp<br /> +Laid low in the arms of Death? And tho' men cease<br /> +To worship at my shrine, yet not the less<br /> +I hold, it is the toils I knew, the pains<br /> +I bore for others, which have kept the heart<br /> +Of manhood undefiled, and nerved the arm<br /> +Of sacrifice, and made the martyr strong<br /> +To do and bear, and taught the race of men<br /> +How godlike 'tis to suffer thro' life, and die<br /> +At last for others' good!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">The strong god ceased,<br /> +And stood a little, musing; blest indeed,<br /> +But bearing, as it seemed, some faintest trace<br /> +Of earthly struggle still, not the gay ease<br /> +Of the elder heaven-born gods<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i30">And then there came<br /> +Beauty and Joy in one, bearing the form<br /> +Of woman. How to reach with halting words<br /> +That infinite Perfection? All have known<br /> +The breathing marbles which the Greek has left<br /> +Who saw her near, and strove to fix her charms,<br /> +And exquisitely failed; or those fair forms<br /> +The Painter offered at a later shrine,<br /> +And failed. Nay, what are words?—he knows it well<br /> +Who loves, or who has loved.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i29">She with a smile<br /> +Playing around her rosy lips; as plays<br /> +The sunbeam on a stream:</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">"Shall I complain<br /> +Men kneel to me no longer, taking to them<br /> +Some graver, sterner worship; grown too wise<br /> +For fleeting joys of Love? Nay, Love is Youth,<br /> +And still the world is young. Still shall I reign<br /> +Within the hearts of men, while Time shall last<br /> +And Life renews itself. All Life that is,<br /> +From the weak things of earth or sea or air,<br /> +Which creep or float for an hour; to godlike man—<br /> +All know me and are mine. I am the source<br /> +And mother of all, both gods and men; the spring<br /> +Of Force and Joy, which, penetrating all<br /> +Within the hidden depths of the Unknown,<br /> +Sets the blind seed of Being, and from the bond<br /> +Of incomplete and dual Essences<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span><br /> +Evolves the harmony which is Life. The world<br /> +Were dead without my rays, who am the Light<br /> +Which vivifies the world. Nay, but for me,<br /> +The universal order which attracts<br /> +Sphere unto sphere, and keeps them in their paths<br /> +For ever, were no more. All things are bound<br /> +Within my golden chain, whose name is Love.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And if there be, indeed, some sterner souls<br /> +Or sunk in too much learning, or hedged round<br /> +By care and greed, or haply too much rapt<br /> +By pale ascetic fervours, to delight<br /> +To kneel to me, the universal voice<br /> +Scorns them as those who, missing willingly<br /> +The good that Nature offers, dwell unblest<br /> +Who might be blest, but would not. Every voice<br /> +Of bard in every age has hymned me. All<br /> +The breathing marbles, all the heavenly hues<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span><br /> +Of painting, praise me. Even the loveless shades<br /> +Of dim monastic cloisters show some gleam,<br /> +Tho' faint, of me. Amid the busy throngs<br /> +Of cities reign I, and o'er lonely plains,<br /> +Beyond the ice-fields of the frozen North,<br /> +And the warm waves of undiscovered seas.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For I was born out of the sparkling foam<br /> +Which lights the crest of the blue mystic wave,<br /> +Stirred by the wandering breath of Life's pure dawn<br /> +From a young soul's calm depths. There, without voice,<br /> +Stretched on the breathing curve of a young breast,<br /> +Fluttering a little, fresh from the great deep<br /> +Of life, and creamy as the opening rose,<br /> +Naked I lie, naked yet unashamed,<br /> +While youth's warm tide steals round me with a kiss,<br /> +And floods each limb with fairness. Shame I know not—<br /> +Shame is for wrong, and not for innocence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>—<br /> +The veil which Error grasps to hide itself<br /> +From the awful Eye. But I, I lie unveiled<br /> +And unashamed—the livelong day I lie,<br /> +The warm wave murmuring to me; and, all night,<br /> +Hidden in the moonlit caves of happy Sleep,<br /> +I dream until the morning and am glad.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Why should I seek to clothe myself, and hide<br /> +The treasure of my Beauty? Shame may wait<br /> +On those for whom 'twas given. The sties of sense<br /> +Are none of mine; the brutish, loveless wrong,<br /> +The venal charm, the simulated flush<br /> +Of fleshly passion, they are none of mine,<br /> +Only corruptions of me. Yet I know<br /> +The counterfeit the stronger, since gross souls<br /> +And brutish sway the earth; and yet I hold<br /> +That sense itself is sacred, and I deem<br /> +'Twere better to grow soft and sink in sense<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span><br /> +Than gloat o'er blood and wrong.</p> + +<p class="v0 i33">My kingdom is<br /> +Over infinite grades of being. All breathing things,<br /> +From the least crawling insect to the brute,<br /> +From brute to man, confess me. Yet in man<br /> +I find my worthiest worship. Where man is,<br /> +A youth and a maid, a youth and a maid, nought else<br /> +Is wanting for my temple. Every clime<br /> +Kneels to me—the long breaker swells and falls<br /> +Under the palms, mixed with the merry noise<br /> +Of savage bridals, and the straight brown limbs<br /> +Know me, and over all the endless plains<br /> +I reign, and by the tents on the hot sand<br /> +And sea-girt isles am queen, and on the side<br /> +Of silent mountains, where the white cots gleam<br /> +Upon the green hill pastures, and no sound<br /> +But the thunder of the avalanche is borne<br /> +To the listening rocks around; and in fair lands<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span><br /> +Where all is peace; where thro' the happy hush<br /> +Of tranquil summer evenings, 'mid the corn,<br /> +Or thro' cool arches of the gadding vines,<br /> +The lovers stray together hand in hand,<br /> +Hymning my praise; and by the stately streets<br /> +Of echoing cities—over all the earth,<br /> +Palace and cot, mountain and plain and sea,<br /> +The burning South, the icy North, the old<br /> +And immemorial East, the unbounded West,<br /> +No new god comes to spoil me utterly—<br /> +All worship and are mine!"</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">With a sweet smile<br /> +Upon her rosy mouth, the goddess ceased;<br /> +And when she spake no more, the silence weighed<br /> +As heavy on my soul as when it takes<br /> +Some gracious melody, and leaves the ear<br /> +Unsatisfied and longing, till the fount<br /> +Of sweetness springs again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i28">But while I stood<br /> +Expectant, lo! a fair pale form drew near<br /> +With front severe, and wide blue eyes which bore<br /> +Mild wisdom in their gaze. Great purity<br /> +Shone from her—not the young-eyed innocence<br /> +Of her whom first I saw, but that which comes<br /> +From wider knowledge, which restrains the tide<br /> +Of passionate youth, and leads the musing soul<br /> +By the calm deeps of Wisdom. And I knew<br /> +My eyes had seen the fair, the virgin Queen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span><br /> +Who once within her shining Parthenon<br /> +Beheld the sages kneel.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">She with clear voice<br /> +And coldly sweet, yet with a softness too,<br /> +As doth befit a virgin:</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">"She does right<br /> +To boast her sway, my sister, seeing indeed<br /> +That all things are as by a double law,<br /> +And from a double root the tree of Life<br /> +Springs up to the face of heaven. Body and Soul,<br /> +Matter and Spirit, lower joys of Sense<br /> +And higher joys of Thought, I know that both<br /> +Build up the shrine of Being. The brute sense<br /> +Leaves man a brute; but, winged with soaring thought<br /> +Mounts to high heaven. The unembodied spirit,<br /> +Dwelling alone, unmated, void of sense,<br /> +Is impotent. And yet I hold there is,<br /> +Far off, but not too far for mortal reach,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span><br /> +A calmer height, where, nearer to the stars,<br /> +Thought sits alone and gazes with rapt gaze,<br /> +A large-eyed maiden in a robe of white.<br /> +Who brings the light of Knowledge down, and draws<br /> +To her pontifical eyes a bridge of gold,<br /> +Which spans from earth to heaven.</p> + +<p class="v0 i34">For what were life,<br /> +If things of sense were all, for those large souls<br /> +And high, which grudging Nature has shut fast<br /> +Within unlovely forms, or those from whom<br /> +The circuit of the rapid gliding years<br /> +Steals the brief gift of beauty? Shall we hold,<br /> +With idle singers, all the treasure of hope<br /> +Is lost with youth—swift-fleeting, treacherous youth,<br /> +Which fades and flies before the ripening brain<br /> +Crowns life with Wisdom's crown? Nay, even in youth,<br /> +Is it not more to walk upon the heights<br /> +Alone—the cold free heights—and mark the vale<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span><br /> +Lie breathless in the glare, or hidden and blurred<br /> +By cloud and storm; or pestilence and war<br /> +Creep on with blood and death; while the soul dwells<br /> +Apart upon the peaks, outfronts the sun<br /> +As the eagle does, and takes the coming dawn<br /> +While all the vale is dark, and knows the springs<br /> +Of tiny rivulets hurrying from the snows,<br /> +Which soon shall swell to vast resistless floods,<br /> +And feed the Oceans which divide the World?</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Oh, ecstasy! oh, wonder! oh, delight!<br /> +Which neither the slow-withering wear of Time,<br /> +That takes all else—the smooth and rounded cheek<br /> +Of youth; the lightsome step; the warm young heart<br /> +Which beats for love or friend; the treasure of hope<br /> +Immeasurable; the quick-coursing blood<br /> +Which makes it joy to be,—ay, takes them all<br /> +And leaves us naught—nor yet satiety<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span><br /> +Born of too full possession, takes or mars!<br /> +Oh, fair delight of learning! which grows great<br /> +And stronger and more keen, for slower limbs,<br /> +And dimmer eyes and loneliness, and loss<br /> +Of lower good—wealth, friendship, ay, and Love—<br /> +When the swift soul, turning its weary gaze<br /> +From the old vanished joys, projects itself<br /> +Into the void and floats in empty space,<br /> +Striving to reach the mystic source of Things,<br /> +The secrets of the earth and sea and air,<br /> +The Law that holds the process of the suns,<br /> +The awful depths of Mind and Thought; the prime<br /> +Unfathomable mystery of God!</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Is there, then, any who holds my worship cold<br /> +And lifeless? Nay, but 'tis the light which cheers<br /> +The waning life! Love thou thy love, brave youth!<br /> +Cleave to thy love, fair maid! it is the Law<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span><br /> +Which dominates the world, that bids ye use<br /> +Your nature; but, when now the fuller tide<br /> +Slackens a little, turn your calmer eyes<br /> +To the fair page of Knowledge. It is power<br /> +I give, and power is precious. It is strength<br /> +To live four-square, careless of outward shows,<br /> +And self-sufficing. It is clearer sight<br /> +To know the rule of life, the Eternal scheme;<br /> +And, knowing it, to do and not to err,<br /> +And, doing, to be blest."</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">The calm voice soared<br /> +Higher and higher to the close; the cold<br /> +Clear accents, fired as by a hidden fire,<br /> +Glowed into life and tenderness, and throbbed<br /> +As with some spiritual ecstasy<br /> +Sweeter than that of Love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i27">But as they died,<br /> +I heard an ampler voice; and looking, marked<br /> +A fair and gracious form. She seemed a Queen<br /> +Who ruled o'er gods and men; the majesty<br /> +Of perfect womanhood. No opening bud<br /> +Of beauty, but the full consummate flower<br /> +Was hers; and from her mild large eyes looked forth<br /> +Gentle command, and motherhood, and home,<br /> +And pure affection. Awe and reverence<br /> +O'erspread me, as I knew my eyes had looked<br /> +On sovereign Heré, mother of the gods.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">She, with clear, rounded utterance, sweet and calm<br /> +"I know Love's fruit is good and fair to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span><br /> +And taste, if any gain it, and I know<br /> +How brief Life's Passion-tide, which when it ends<br /> +May change to thirst for Knowledge, and I know<br /> +How fair the realm of Mind, wherein the soul<br /> +Thirsting to know, wings its impetuous way<br /> +Beyond the bounds of Thought; and yet I hold<br /> +There is a higher bliss than these, which fits<br /> +A mortal life, compact of Body and Soul,<br /> +And therefore double-natured—a calm path<br /> +Which lies before the feet, thro' common ways<br /> +And undistinguished crowds of toiling men,<br /> +And yet is hard to tread, tho' seeming smooth,<br /> +And yet, tho' level, earns a worthier crown.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For Knowledge is a steep which few may climb,<br /> +While Duty is a path which all may tread.<br /> +And if the Soul of Life and Thought be this,<br /> +How best to speed the mighty scheme, which still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span><br /> +Fares onward day by day—the Life of the World,<br /> +Which is the sum of petty lives, that live<br /> +And die so this may live—how then shall each<br /> +Of that great multitude of faithful souls<br /> +Who walk not on the heights, fulfil himself,<br /> +But by the duteous Life which looks not forth<br /> +Beyond its narrow sphere, and finds its work,<br /> +And works it out; content, this done, to fall<br /> +And perish, if Fate will, so the great Scheme<br /> +Goes onward?</p> + +<p class="v0 i13">Wherefore am I Queen in Heaven<br /> +And Earth, whose realm is Duty, bearing rule<br /> +More constant and more wide than those whose words<br /> +Thou heardest last. Mine are the striving souls<br /> +Of fathers toiling day by day obscure<br /> +And unrewarded, save by their own hearts,<br /> +Mid wranglings of the Forum or the mart;<br /> +Who long for joys of Thought, and yet must toil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span><br /> +Unmurmuring thro' dull lives from youth to age;<br /> +Who haply might have worn instead the crown<br /> +Of Honour and of Fame: mine the fair mothers<br /> +Who, for the love of children and of home,<br /> +When passion dies, expend their toilful years<br /> +In loving labour sweetened by the sense<br /> +Of Duty: mine the statesman who toils on<br /> +Thro' vigilant nights and days, guiding his State.<br /> +Yet finds no gratitude; and those white souls<br /> +Who give themselves for others all their years<br /> +In trivial tasks of Pity. The fine growths<br /> +Of Man and Time are mine, and spend themselves<br /> +For me and for the mystical End which lies<br /> +Beyond their gaze and mine, and yet is good,<br /> +Tho' hidden from men and gods.</p> + +<p class="v0 i31">For as the flower<br /> +Of the tiger-lily bright with varied hues<br /> +Is for a day, then fades and leaves behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span><br /> +Fairness nor fruit, while the green tiny tuft<br /> +Swells to the purple of the clustering grape<br /> +Or golden waves of wheat; so lives of men<br /> +Which show most splendid; fade and are deceased<br /> +And leave no trace; while those, unmarked, unseen,<br /> +Which no man recks of, rear the stately tree<br /> +Of Knowledge, not for itself sought out, but found<br /> +In the dusty ways of life—a fairer growth<br /> +Than springs in cloistered shades; and from the sum<br /> +Of Duty, blooms sweeter and more divine<br /> +The fair ideal of the Race, than comes<br /> +From glittering gains of Learning.</p> + +<p class="v0 i35">Life, full life,<br /> +Full-flowered, full-fruited, reared from homely earth,<br /> +Rooted in duty, and thro' long calm years<br /> +Bearing its load of healthful energies;<br /> +Stretching its arms on all sides; fed with dews<br /> +Of cheerful sacrifice, and clouds of care,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span><br /> +And rain of useful tears; warmed by the sun<br /> +Of calm affection, till it breathes itself<br /> +In perfume to the heavens—this is the prize<br /> +I hold most dear, more precious than the fruit<br /> +Of Knowledge or of Love."</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">The goddess ceased<br /> +As dies some gracious harmony, the child<br /> +Of wedded themes which single and alone<br /> +Were discords, but united breathe a sound<br /> +Sweet as the sounds of heaven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i31">And then stood forth<br /> +The last of the gods I saw, the first in rank<br /> +And dignity and beauty, the young god<br /> +Who grows not old, the Light of Heaven and Earth,<br /> +The Worker from afar, who sends the fire<br /> +Of inspiration to the bard and bathes<br /> +The world in hues of heaven—the golden link<br /> +Between High God and Man.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">With a sweet voice<br /> +Whose every note was sweetest melody—<br /> +The melody has fled, the words remain—<br /> +Apollo sang:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i13">"I know how fair the face<br /> +Of Purity; I know the treasure of Strength;<br /> +I know the charm of Love, the calmer grace<br /> +Of Wisdom and of Duteous well-spent lives:<br /> +And yet there is a loftier height than these.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">There is a Height higher than mortal thought;<br /> +There is a Love warmer than mortal love;<br /> +There is a Life which taketh not its hues<br /> +From Earth or earthly things; and so grows pure<br /> +And higher than the petty cares of men,<br /> +And is a blessed life and glorified.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Oh, white young souls, strain upward, upward still,<br /> +Even to the heavenly source of Purity!<br /> +Brave hearts, bear on and suffer! Strike for right,<br /> +Strong arms, and hew down wrong! The world hath need<br /> +Of all of you—the sensual wrongful world<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>!</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Hath need of you, and of thee too, fair Love.<br /> +Oh, lovers, cling together! the old world<br /> +Is full of Hate. Sweeten it; draw in one<br /> +Two separate chords of Life; and from the bond<br /> +Of twin souls lost in Harmony create<br /> +A Fair God dwelling with you—Love, the Lord!</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Waft yourselves, yearning souls, upon the stars;<br /> +Sow yourselves on the wandering winds of space;<br /> +Watch patient all your days, if your eyes take<br /> +Some dim, cold ray of Knowledge. The dull world<br /> +Hath need of you—the purblind, slothful world!</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Live on, brave lives, chained to the narrow round<br /> +Of Duty; live, expend yourselves, and make<br /> +The orb of Being wheel onward steadfastly<br /> +Upon its path—the Lord of Life alone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span><br /> +Knows to what goal of Good; work on, live on:<br /> +And yet there is a higher work than yours.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">To have looked upon the face of the Unknown<br /> +And Perfect Beauty. To have heard the voice<br /> +Of Godhead in the winds and in the seas.<br /> +To have known Him in the circling of the suns,<br /> +And in the changeful fates and lives of men.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">To be fulfilled with Godhead as a cup<br /> +Filled with a precious essence, till the hand<br /> +On marble or on canvas falling, leaves<br /> +Celestial traces, or from reed or string<br /> +Draws out faint echoes of the voice Divine<br /> +That bring God nearer to a faithless world.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Or, higher still and fairer and more blest,<br /> +To be His seer, His prophet; to be the voice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span><br /> +Of the Ineffable Word; to be the glass<br /> +Of the Ineffable Light, and bring them down<br /> +To bless the earth, set in a shrine of Song.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For Knowledge is a barren tree and bare,<br /> +Bereft of God, and Duty but a word,<br /> +And Strength but Tyranny, and Love, Desire,<br /> +And Purity a folly; and the Soul,<br /> +Which brings down God to Man, the Light to the world;<br /> +He is the Maker, and is blest, is blest!"</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">He ended, and I felt my soul grow faint<br /> +With too much sweetness.</p> + +<p class="v0 i25">In a mist of grace<br /> +They faded, that bright company, and seemed<br /> +To melt into each other and shape themselves<br /> +Into new forms, and those fair goddesses<br /> +Blent in a perfect woman—all the calm<br /> +High motherhood of Heré, the sweet smile<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span><br /> +Of Cypris, fair Athené's earnest eyes,<br /> +And the young purity of Artemis,<br /> +Blent in a perfect woman; and in her arms,<br /> +Fused by some cosmic interlacing curves<br /> +Of Beauty into a new Innocence,<br /> +A child with eyes divine, a little child,<br /> +A little child—no more.</p> + +<p class="v0 i24">And those great gods<br /> +Of Power and Beauty left a heavenly form<br /> +Strong not to act, but suffer; fair and meek,<br /> +Not proud and eager; with soft eyes of grace,<br /> +Not bold with joyous youth; and for the fire<br /> +Of song, and for the happy careless life,<br /> +A sorrowful pilgrimage—changed, yet the same<br /> +Only Diviner far; and keeping still<br /> +The Life God-lighted and the sacrifice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And when these faded wholly, at my side,<br /> +Tho' hidden before by those too-radiant forms,<br /> +I was aware once more of her, my guide<br /> +Psyche, who had not left me, floating near<br /> +On golden wings; and all the plains of heaven<br /> +Were left to us, me and my soul alone.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">Then when my thought revived again, I said<br /> +Whispering, "But Zeus I saw not, the prime Source<br /> +And Sire of all the gods."</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">And she, bent low<br /> +With downcast eyes: "Nay. Thou hast seen of Him<br /> +All that thine eyes can bear, in those fair forms<br /> +Which are but parts of Him and are indeed<br /> +Attributes of the Substance which supports<br /> +The Universe of Things—the Soul of the World,<br /> +The Stream which flows Eternal, from no Source<br /> +Into no Sea, His Purity, His Strength,<br /> +His Love, His Knowledge, His unchanging rule<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span><br /> +Of Duty, thou hast seen, only a part<br /> +And not the whole, being a finite mind<br /> +Too weak for infinite thought; nor, couldst thou see<br /> +All of Him visible to mortal sight,<br /> +Wouldst thou see all His essence, since the gods—<br /> +Glorified essences of Human mould,<br /> +Who are but Zeus made visible to men—<br /> +See Him not wholly, only some thin edge<br /> +And halo of His glory; nor know they<br /> +What vast and unsuspected Universes<br /> +Lie beyond thought, where yet He rules, like those<br /> +Vast Suns we cannot see, round which our Sun<br /> +Moves with his system, or those darker still<br /> +Which not even thus we know, but yet exist<br /> +Tho' no eye marks, nor thought itself, and lurk<br /> +In the awful Depths of Space; or that which is<br /> +Not orbed as yet, but indiscrete, confused,<br /> +Sown thro' the void—the faintest gleam of light<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span><br /> +Which sets itself to Be. And yet is He<br /> +There too, and rules, none seeing. But sometimes<br /> +To this our heaven, which is so like to earth<br /> +But nearer to Him, for awhile He shows<br /> +Some gleam of His own brightness, and methinks<br /> +It cometh soon; but thou, if thou shouldst gaze,<br /> +Thy Life will rush to His—the tiny spark<br /> +Absorbed in that full blaze—and what there is<br /> +Of mortal fall from thee."</p> + +<p class="v0 i27">But I: "Oh, soul,<br /> +What holdeth Life more precious than to know<br /> +The Giver and to die?"</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">Then she: "Behold!<br /> +Look upward and adore."</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">And with the word,<br /> +Unhasting, undelaying, gradual, sure,<br /> +The floating cloud which clothed the hidden peak<br /> +Rose slow in awful silence, laying bare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span><br /> +Spire after rocky spire, snow after snow,<br /> +Whiter and yet more dreadful, till at last<br /> +It left the summit clear.</p> + +<p class="v0 i26">Then with a bound,<br /> +In the twinkling of an eye, in the flash of a thought,<br /> +I knew an Awful Effluence of Light,<br /> +Formless, Ineffable, Perfect, burst on me<br /> +And flood my being round, and take my life<br /> +Into itself. I saw my guide bent down<br /> +Prostrate, her wings before her face; and then<br /> +No more.</p> + +<p class="v4 i9">But when I woke from my long trance<br /> +Behold, it was no longer Tartarus,<br /> +Nor Hades, nor Olympus, but the bare<br /> +And unideal aspect of the fields<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span><br /> +Which Spring not yet had kissed—the strange old Earth<br /> +So far more fabulous now than in the days<br /> +When Man was young, nor yet the mystery<br /> +Of Time and Fate transformed it. From the hills,<br /> +The long night fled at last, the unclouded sun,<br /> +The dear, fair sun, leapt upward swift, and smote<br /> +My sight with rays of gold, and pierced my brain<br /> +With too much light ere my entrancèd eyes<br /> +Could hide themselves.</p> + +<p class="v0 i23">And I was on the Earth<br /> +Dreaming the dream of Life again, as late<br /> +I dreamed the dream of Death.</p> + +<p class="v0 i30">Another day<br /> +Dawned on the race of men; another world;<br /> +New heavens, and new earth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v4 i28">And as I went<br /> +Across the lightening fields, upon a bank<br /> +I saw a single snowdrop glance, and bring<br /> +Promise of Spring; and keeping my old thought<br /> +In the old fair Hellenic vesture dressed,<br /> +I felt myself a ghost, and seemed to be<br /> +Now fair Adonis hasting to the arms<br /> +Of his lost love—now sad Persephone<br /> +Restored to mother earth—or that high shade<br /> +Orpheus, who gave up heaven to save his love,<br /> +And is rewarded—or young Marsyas,<br /> +Who spent his youth and life for song, and yet<br /> +Was happy though in torture—or the fair<br /> +And dreaming youth I saw, who still awaits,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span><br /> +Hopeful, the unveiling heaven, when he shall see<br /> +His fair ideal love. The birds sang blithe;<br /> +There came a tinkling from the waking fold;<br /> +And on the hillside from the cot a girl<br /> +Tripped singing with her pitcher. All the sounds<br /> +And thoughts which still are beautiful—Youth, Song,<br /> +Dawn, Spring, Renewal—and my soul was glad<br /> +Of all the freshness, and I felt again<br /> +The youth and spring-tide of the world, and thought,<br /> +Which feigned those fair and gracious fantasies.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For every dawn that breaks brings a new world,<br /> +And every budding bosom a new life;<br /> +These fair tales, which we know so beautiful,<br /> +Show only finer than our lives to-day<br /> +Because their voice was clearer, and they found<br /> +A sacred bard to sing them. We are pent,<br /> +Who sing to-day, by all the garnered wealth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span><br /> +Of ages of past song. We have no more<br /> +The world to choose from, who, where'er we turn,<br /> +Tread through old thoughts and fair. Yet must we sing—<br /> +We have no choice; and if more hard the toil<br /> +In noon, when all is clear, than in the fresh<br /> +White mists of early morn, yet do we find<br /> +Achievement its own guerdon, and at last<br /> +The rounder song of manhood grows more sweet<br /> +Than the high note of youth.</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">For Age, long Age!<br /> +Nought else divides us from the fresh young days<br /> +Which men call ancient; seeing that we in turn<br /> +Shall one day be Time's ancients, and inspire<br /> +The wiser, higher race, which yet shall sing<br /> +Because to sing is human, and high thought<br /> +Grows rhythmic ere its close. Nought else there is<br /> +But that weird beat of Time, which doth disjoin<br /> +To-day from Hellas.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p class="v0 i20">How should any hold<br /> +Those precious scriptures only old-world tales<br /> +Of strange impossible torments and false gods;<br /> +Of men and monsters in some brainless dream,<br /> +Coherent, yet unmeaning, linked together<br /> +By some false skein of song?</p> + +<p class="v0 i29">Nay! evermore,<br /> +All things and thoughts, both new and old, are writ<br /> +Upon the unchanging human heart and soul.<br /> +Has Passion still no prisoners? Pine there now<br /> +No lives which fierce Love, sinking into Lust,<br /> +Has drowned at last in tears and blood—plunged down<br /> +To the lowest depths of Hell? Have not strong Will<br /> +And high Ambition rotted into Greed<br /> +And Wrong, for any, as of old, and whelmed<br /> +The struggling soul in ruin? Hell lies near<br /> +Around us as does Heaven, and in the World,<br /> +Which is our Hades, still the chequered souls<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span><br /> +Compact of good and ill—not all accurst<br /> +Nor altogether blest—a few brief years<br /> +Travel the little journey of their lives,<br /> +They know not to what end. The weary woman<br /> +Sunk deep in ease and sated with her life,<br /> +Much loved and yet unloving, pines to-day<br /> +As Helen; still the poet strives and sings.<br /> +And hears Apollo's music, and grows dumb,<br /> +And suffers, yet is happy; still the young<br /> +Fond dreamer seeks his high ideal love,<br /> +And finds her name is Death; still doth the fair<br /> +And innocent life, bound naked to the rock,<br /> +Redeem the race; still the gay tempter goes<br /> +And leaves his victim, stone; still doth pain bind<br /> +Men's souls in closer links of lovingness,<br /> +Than Death itself can sever; still the sight<br /> +Of too great beauty blinds us, and we lose<br /> +The sense of earthly splendours, gaining Heaven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And still the skies are opened as of old<br /> +To the entrancèd gaze, ay, nearer far<br /> +And brighter than of yore; and Might is there,<br /> +And Infinite Purity is there, and high<br /> +Eternal Wisdom, and the calm clear face<br /> +Of Duty, and a higher, stronger Love<br /> +And Light in one, and a new, reverend Name,<br /> +Greater than any and combining all;<br /> +And over all, veiled with a veil of cloud,<br /> +God set far off, too bright for mortal eyes.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">And always, always, with each soul that comes<br /> +And goes, comes that fair form which was my guide,<br /> +Hovering, with golden wings and eyes divine,<br /> +Above the bed of birth, the bed of death,<br /> +Still breathing heavenly airs of deathless love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>.</p> + +<p class="v1 i2">For while a youth is lost in soaring thought,<br /> +And while a maid grows sweet and beautiful,<br /> +And while a spring-tide coming lights the earth,<br /> +And while a child, and while a flower is born,<br /> +And while one wrong cries for redress and finds<br /> +A soul to answer, still the world is young!</p> +<div><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<p class="center">THE END.</p> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> + + +<div class="footnotes"><p>Footnotes:</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Euripides, "Hippolytus," lines 70-78.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Virgil, "Æneid," vi. 740.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See the Orphic Hymns.</p></div> +</div> + +<p class="center">PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,<br /> +LONDON AND BECCLES.</p> + +<p class="transnote"> +Transcriber's Notes:<br /> +This text is hemistichia, in that the end of one stanza<br /> +is vertically aligned with the start of the next stanza.<br /> +The original font, possibly Caslon Old Face is similar <br /> +to Goudy Old Style and the text in this file has been <br /> +aligned for reading using Goudy Old style or a similar font.<br /> +Inconsistent Hyphenation and text retained.<br /> +Pg 168: (Sovereign Here) changed to (Sovereign Heré)</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Epic of Hades, by Lewis Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + +***** This file should be named 38011-h.htm or 38011-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/1/38011/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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: The Epic of Hades + In Three Books + +Author: Lewis Morris + +Release Date: November 14, 2011 [EBook #38011] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + + + + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE POETICAL WORKS OF + MR. LEWIS MORRIS. + + I. + SONGS OF TWO WORLDS. With Portrait. + Eleventh Edition, price 5_s._ + II. + THE EPIC OF HADES. With an Autotype + Illustration, Nineteenth Edition, price 5_s._ + III. + GWEN and THE ODE OF LIFE. With + Frontispiece. Sixth Edition, price 5_s._ + + THE EPIC OF HADES. Third Illustrated + Edition. With Sixteen Autotype Plates after the + Drawings by the late GEORGE R. CHAPMAN, 4to, + cloth extra, gilt edges, price 21_s._ + + THE EPIC OF HADES. The Presentation + Edition. 4to, cloth extra, price 10_s._ 6_d._ + + SONGS UNSUNG. Fourth Edition. Fcap. 8vo, + cloth, 6_s._ + + ** _For Notices of the Press, see end of this Volume._ + * + LONDON: KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO. + + + + + THE POETICAL WORKS OF + LEWIS MORRIS + + + + + _VOLUME TWO_ + + THE EPIC OF HADES + + + + + LONDON + KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE + 1885 + + + + + [Illustration: _Then with wings + Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes + Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land._ + Page 228.] + + + + + THE EPIC OF HADES + + IN THREE BOOKS + + BY + + LEWIS MORRIS + + M.A.; HONORARY FELLOW OF JESUS COLLEGE, OXFORD + KNIGHT OF THE REDEEMER OF GREECE, ETC., ETC. + + + "DIFFICILE EST PROPRIE COMMUNIA DICERE" + + + NINETEENTH EDITION. + + LONDON + + KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE + 1885 + + + + + "The three excellences of Poetry: simplicity of language, + simplicity of subject, and simplicity of invention"-- + _The Welsh Triads_. + + + (_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._) + + + + + TO ALL + + WHO LOVE THE LITERATURE OF GREECE + + THIS POEM IS DEDICATED + + BY + + THE AUTHOR. + + + + + CONTENTS. + + + BOOK I. + + TARTARUS. + + PAGE + TANTALUS 7 + + PHAEDRA 23 + + SISYPHUS 40 + + CLYTAEMNESTRA 55 + + + BOOK II. + + HADES. + + MARSYAS 82 + + ANDROMEDA 95 + + ACTAEON 110 + + HELEN 120 + + EURYDICE 145 + + ORPHEUS 150 + + DEIANEIRA 154 + + LAOCOON 166 + + NARCISSUS 175 + + MEDUSA 188 + + ADONIS 198 + + PERSEPHONE 202 + + ENDYMION 211 + + PSYCHE 219 + + + BOOK III. + + OLYMPUS. + + ARTEMIS 237 + + HERAKLES 244 + + APHRODITE 248 + + ATHENE 255 + + HERE 261 + + APOLLO 267 + + ZEUS 273 + + + + + BOOK I. + + TARTARUS. + + + + + THE EPIC OF HADES. + + + + +In February, when the dawn was slow, +And winds lay still, I gazed upon the fields +Which stretched before me, lifeless, and the stream +Which laboured in the distance to the sea, +Sullen and cold. No force of fancy took +My thought to bloomy June, when all the land +Lay deep in crested grass, and through the dew +The landrail brushed, and the lush banks were set +With strawberries, and the hot noise of bees +Lulled the bright flowers. Rather I seemed to move +Thro' that weird land, Hellenic fancy feigned, +Beyond the fabled river and the bark +Of Charon; and forthwith on every side +Rose the thin throng of ghosts. + First thro' the gloom +Of a dark grove I strayed--a sluggish wood, +Where scarce the faint fires of the setting stars, +Or some cold gleam of half-discovered dawn, +Might pierce the darkling pines. A twilight drear +Brooded o'er all the depths, and filled the dank +And sunken hollows of the rocks with shapes +Of terror,--beckoning hands and noiseless feet +Flitting from shade to shade, wide eyes that stared +With horror, and dumb mouths which seemed to cry, +Yet cried not. An ineffable despair +Hung over them and that dark world and took +The gazer captive, and a mingled pang +Of grief and anger, grown to fierce revolt +And hatred of the Invisible Force which holds +The issue of our lives and binds us fast +Within the net of Fate; as the fisher takes +The little quivering sea-things from the sea +And flings them gasping on the beach to die +Then spreads his net for more. And then again +I knew myself and those, creatures who lie +Safe in the strong grasp of Unchanging Law, +Encompassed round by hands unseen, and chains +Which do support the feeble life that else +Were spent on barren space; and thus I came +To look with less of horror, more of thought, +And bore to see the sight of pain that yet +Should grow to healing, when the concrete stain +Of life and act were purged, and the cleansed soul, +Renewed by the slow wear and waste of time, +Soared after aeons of days. + They seemed alone, +Those prisoners, thro' all time. Each soul shut fast +In its own jail of woe, apart, alone, +For evermore alone; no thought of kin, +Or kindly human glance, or fellowship +Of suffering or of sin, made light the load +Of solitary pain. Ay, though they walked +Together, or were prisoned in one cell +With the partners of their wrong, or with strange souls +Which the same Furies tore, they knew them not, +But suffered still alone; as in that shape +Of hell fools build on earth, where hopeless sin +Rots slow in solitude, nor sees the face +Of men, nor hears the sound of speech, nor feels +The touch of human hand, but broods a ghost, +Hating the bare blank cell--the other self, +Which brought it thither--hating man and God, +And all that is or has been. + + + + + A great fear +And pity froze my blood, who seemed to see +A half-remembered form. + An Eastern King +It was who lay in pain. He wore a crown +Upon his aching brow, and his white robe +Was jewelled with fair gems of price, the signs +Of pomp and honour and all luxury, +Which might prevent desire. But as I looked +There came a hunger in the gloating eyes, +A quenchless thirst upon the parching lips, +And such unsatisfied strainings in the hands +Stretched idly forth on what I could not see, +Some fatal food of fancy; that I knew +The undying worm of sense, which frets and gnaws +The unsatisfied stained soul. + Seeing me, he said: +"What? And art thou too damned as I? Dost know +This thirst as I, and see as I the cool +Lymph drawn from thee and mock thy lips; and parch +For ever in continual thirst; and mark +The fair fruit offered to thy hunger fade +Before thy longing eyes? I thought there was +No other as I thro' all the weary lengths +Of Time the gods have made, who pined so long +And found fruition mock him. + Long ago, +When I was young on earth, 'twas a sweet pain +To ride all day in the long chase, and feel +Toil and the summer fire my blood and parch +My lips, while in my father's halls I knew +The cool bath waited, with its marble floor; +And juices from the ripe fruits pressed, and chilled +With snows from far-off peaks; and troops of slaves; +And music and the dance; and fair young forms. +And dalliance, and every joy of sense, +That haunts the dreams of youth, which strength and ease +Corrupt, and vacant hours. Ay, it was sweet +For a while to plunge in these, as fair boys plunge +Naked in summer streams, all veil of shame +Laid by, only the young dear body bathed +And sunk in its delight, while the firm earth, +The soft green pastures gay with innocent flowers, +Or sober harvest fields, show like a dream; +And nought is left, but the young life which floats +Upon the depths of death, to sink, maybe, +And drown in pleasure, or rise at length grown wise +And gain the abandoned shore. + Ah, but at last +The swift desire waxed stronger and more strong, +And feeding on itself, grows tyrannous; +And the parched soul no longer finds delight +In the cool stream of old; nay, this itself, +Smitten by the fire of sense as by a flame, +Holds not its coolness more; and fevered limbs, +Seeking the fresh tides of their youth, may find +No more refreshment, but a cauldron fired +With the fires of nether hell; and a black rage +Usurps the soul, and drives it on to slake +Its thirst with crime and blood. + Longing Desire! +Unsatisfied, sick, impotent Desire! +Oh, I have known it ages long. I knew +Its pain on earth ere yet my life had grown +To its full stature, thro' the weary years +Of manhood, nay, in age itself; I knew +The quenchless weary thirst, unsatisfied +By all the charms of sense, by wealth and power +And homage; always craving, never quenched-- +The undying curse of the soul! The ministers +And agents of my will drave far and wide +Through all the land for me, seeking to find +Fresh pleasures for me, who had spent my sum +Of pleasure, and had power, not even in thought, +Nor faculty to enjoy. They tore apart +The sacred claustral doors of home for me, +Defiled the inviolate hearth for me, laid waste +The flower of humble lives, in hope to heal +The sickly fancies of the king, till rose +A cry of pain from all the land; and I +Grew happier for it, since I held the power +To quench desire in blood. + But even thus +The old pain faded not, but swift again +Revived; and thro' the sensual dull lengths +Of my seraglios I stalked, and marked +The glitter of the gems, the precious webs +Plundered from every clime by cruel wars +That strewed the sands with corpses; lovely eyes +That looked no look of love, and fired no more +Thoughts of the flesh; rich meats, and fruits, and wines +Grown flat and savourless; and loathed them all, +And only cared for power; content to shed +Rivers of innocent blood, if only thus +I might appease my thirst. Until I grew +A monster gloating over blood and pain. + + Ah, weary, weary days, when every sense +Was satisfied, and nothing left to slake +The parched unhappy soul, except to watch +The writhing limbs and mark the slow blood drip, +Drop after drop, as the life ebbed with it; +In a new thrill of lust, till blood itself +Palled on me, and I knew the fiend I was, +Yet cared not--I who was, brief years ago, +Only a careless boy lapt round with ease, +Stretched by the soft and stealing tide of sense +Which now grew red; nor ever dreamed at all +What Furies lurked beneath it, but had shrunk +In indolent horror from the sight of tears +And misery, and felt my inmost soul +Sicken with the thought of blood. There comes a time +When the insatiate brute within the man, +Weary with wallowing in the mire, leaps forth +Devouring, and the cloven satyr-hoof +Grows to the rending claw, and the lewd leer +To the horrible fanged snarl, and the soul sinks +And leaves the man a devil, all his sin +Grown savourless, and yet he longs to sin +And longs in vain for ever. + Yet, methinks, +It was not for the gods to leave me thus. +I stinted not their worship, building shrines +To all of them; the Goddess of Love I served +With hecatombs, letting the fragrant fumes +Of incense and the costly steam ascend +From victims year by year; nay, my own son +Pelops, my best beloved, I gave to them +Offering, as he must offer who would gain +The great gods' grace, my dearest. + I had gained +Through long and weary orgies that strange sense +Of nothingness and wasted days which blights +The exhausted life, bearing upon its front +Counterfeit knowledge, when the bitter ash +Of Evil, which the sick soul loathes, appears +Like the pure fruit of Wisdom. I had grown +As wizards seem, who mingle sensual rites +And forms impure with murderous spells and dark +Enchantments; till the simple people held +My very weakness wisdom, and believed +That in my blood-stained palace-halls, withdrawn, +I kept the inner mysteries of Zeus +And knew the secret of all Being; who was +A sick and impotent wretch, so sick, so tired, +That even bloodshed palled. + For my stained soul, +Knowing its sin, hastened to purge itself +With every rite and charm which the dark lore +Of priestcraft offered to it. Spells obscene, +The blood of innocent babes, sorceries foul +Muttered at midnight--these could occupy +My weary days; till all my people shrank +To see me, and the mother clasped her child +Who heard the monster pass. + They would not hear. +They listened not--the cold ungrateful gods-- +For all my supplications; nay, the more +I sought them were they hidden. + At the last +A dark voice whispered nightly: 'Thou, poor wretch, +That art so sick and impotent, thyself +The source of all thy misery, the great gods +Ask a more precious gift and excellent +Than alien victims which thou prizest not +And givest without a pang. But shouldst thou take +Thy costliest and fairest offering, +'Twere otherwise. The life which thou hast given +Thou mayst recall. Go, offer at the shrine +Thy best beloved Pelops, and appease +Zeus and the averted gods, and know again +The youth and joy of yore.' + Night after night, +While all the halls were still, and the cold stars +Were fading into dawn, I lay awake +Distraught with warring thoughts, my throbbing brain +Filled with that dreadful voice. I had not shrunk +From blood, but this, the strong son of my youth-- +How should I dare this thing? And all day long +I would steal from sight of him and men, and fight +Against the dreadful thought, until the voice +Seared all my burning brain, and clamoured, 'Kill! +Zeus bids thee, and be happy.' Then I rose +At midnight, when the halls were still, and raised +The arras, and stole soft to where my son +Lay sleeping. For one moment on his face +And stalwart limbs I gazed, and marked the rise +And fall of his young breast, and the soft plume +Which drooped upon his brow, and felt a thrill +Of yearning; but the cold voice urging me +Burned me like fire. Three times I gazed and turned +Irresolute, till last it thundered at me, +'Strike, fool! thou art in hell; strike, fool! and lose +The burden of thy chains.' Then with slow step +I crept as creeps the tiger on the deer, +Raised high my arm, shut close my eyes, and plunged +My dagger in his heart. + And then, with a flash, +The veil fell downward from my life and left +Myself to me--the daily sum of sense-- +The long continual trouble of desire-- +The stain of blood blotting the stain of lust-- +The weary foulness of my days, which wrecked +My heart and brain, and left me at the last +A madman and accursed; and I knew, +Far higher than the sensual slope which held +The gods whom erst I worshipped, a white peak +Of Purity, and a stern voice pealing doom-- +Not the mad voice of old--which pierced so deep +Within my life, that with the reeking blade +Wet with the heart's blood of my child I smote +My guilty heart in twain. + Ah! fool, to dream +That the long stain of time might fade and merge +In one poor chrism of blood. They taught of yore, +My priests who flattered me--nor knew at all +The greater God I know, who sits afar +Beyond those earthly shapes, passionless, pure, +And awful as the Dawn--that the gods cared +For costly victims, drinking in the steam +Of sacrifice when the choice hecatombs +Were offered for my wrong. Ah no! there is +No recompense in these, nor any charm +To cleanse the stain of sin, but the long wear +Of suffering, when the soul which seized too much +Of pleasure here, grows righteous by the pain +That doth redress its ill. For what is Right +But equipoise of Nature, alternating +The Too Much and Too Little? Not on earth +The salutary silent forces work +Their final victory, but year on year +Passes, and age on age, and leaves the debt +Unsatisfied, while the o'erburdened soul +Unloads itself in pain. + Therefore it is +I suffer as I suffered ere swift death +Set me not free, no otherwise; and yet +There comes a healing purpose in my pain +I never knew on earth; nor ever here +The once-loved evil grows, only the tale +Of penalties grown greater hourly dwarfs +The accomplished sum of wrong. And yet desire +Pursues me still--sick, impotent desire, +Fiercer than that of earth. + We are ourselves +Our heaven and hell, the joy, the penalty, +The yearning, the fruition. Earth is hell +Or heaven, and yet not only earth; but still, +After the swift soul leaves the gates of death, +The pain grows deeper and less mixed, the joy +Purer and less alloyed, and we are damned +Or blest, as we have lived." + He ceased, with a wail +Like some complaining wind among the pines +Or pent among the fretful ocean caves, +A sick, sad sound. + Then as I looked, I saw +His eyes glare horribly, his dry parched lips +Open, his weary hands stretch idly forth +As if to clutch the air--infinite pain +And mockery of hope. "Seest thou them now?" +He said. "I thirst, I parch, I famish, yet +They still elude me, fair and tempting fruit +And cooling waters. Now they come again. +See, they are in my grasp, they are at my lips, +Now I shall quench me. Nay, again they fly +And mock me. Seest thou them, or am I shut +From hope for ever, hungering, thirsting still, +A madman and in Hell?" + And as I passed +In horror, his large eyes and straining hands +Froze all my soul with pity. + + + + + Then it was +A woman whom I saw: a dark pale Queen, +With passion in her eyes, and fear and pain +Holding her steadfast gaze, like one who sees +Some dreadful deed of wrong worked out and knows +Himself the cause, yet now is powerless +To stay the wrong he would. + Seeing me gaze +In pity on her woe, she turned and spake +With a low wailing voice-- + "Thou well mayst gaze +With horror on me, sir, for I am lost; +I have shed the innocent blood, long years ago, +Nay, centuries of pain. I have shed the blood +Of him I loved, and found for recompense +But self-inflicted death and age-long woe, +Which purges not my sin. And yet not I +It was who did it, but the gods, who took +A woman's loveless heart and tortured it +With love as with a fire. It was not I +Who slew my love, but Fate. Fate 'twas which brought +My love and me together, Fate which barred +The path of blameless love, yet set Love's flame +To burn and smoulder in a hopeless heart, +Where no relief might come. + The King was old, +And I a girl. 'Tis an old tale which runs +Thro' the sad ages, and 'twas mine. He had spent +His sum of love long since, and I--I knew not +A breath of Love as yet. Ah, it is strange +To lose the sense of maidenhood, drink deep +Of life to the very dregs, and yet not know +A flutter of Love's wing. Love takes no thought +For pomp, or palace, or respect of men; +Nor always in the stately marriage bed, +Closed round by silken curtains, laid on down, +Nestles a rosy form; but 'mid wild flowers +Or desert tents, or in the hind's low cot, +Beneath the aspect of the unconscious stars, +Dwells all night and is blest. + My love, my life! +He was the old man's son, a fair white soul-- +Not like the others, whom the fire of youth +Burns like a flame and hurries unrestrained +Thro' riotous days and nights, but virginal +And pure as any maid. No wandering glance +He deigned for all the maidens young and fair +Who sought their Prince's eye. But evermore, +Upon the high lawns wandering alone, +He dwelt unwed; weaving to Artemis, +Fairest of all Olympian maids, a wreath +From the unpolluted meads, where never herd +Drives his white flock, nor ever scythe has come, +But the bee sails upon unfettered wing +Over the spring-like lawns, and Purity +Waters them with soft dews;[1] and yet he showed +Of all his peers most manly--heart and soul +A very man, tender and true, and strong +And pitiful, and in his limbs and mien +Fair as Apollo's self. + It was at first +In Troezen that I saw him, when he came +To greet his sire. Amid the crowd of youths +He showed a Prince indeed; yet knew I not +Whom 'twas I saw, nor that I held the place +Which was his mother's, only from the throng +Love, with a barbed dart aiming, pierced my heart +Ere yet I knew what ailed me. Every glance +Fired me; the youthful grace, the tall straight limbs, +The swelling sinewy arms, the large dark eyes +Tender yet full of passion, the thick locks +Tossed from his brow, the lip and cheek which bore +The down of early manhood, seemed to feed +My heart with short-lived joy. + For when he stood +Forth from the throng and knelt before his sire, +Then raised his eyes to mine, I felt the curse +Of Aphrodite burn me, as it burned +My mother before me, and I dared not meet +His innocent, frank young eyes. + Said I then young? +Ay, but not young as mine. For I had known +The secret things of life, which age the soul +In a moment, writing on its front their mark +'Too early ripe;' and he was innocent, +My spouse in fitted years, within whose arms +I had defied the world. + I turned away +Like some white bird that leaves the flock, which sails +High in mid air above the haunts of men, +Feeling some little dart within her breast, +Not death, but like to death, and slowly sinks +Down to the earth alone, and bears her hurt +Unseen, by herbless sand and bitter pool, +And pines until the end. + Even from that day +I strove to gain his love. Nay, 'twas not I, +But the cruel gods who drove me. Day by day +We were together; for in days of old +Women were free, not pent in gilded jails +As afterwards, but free to walk alone, +For good or evil, free. I hardly took +Thought for my spouse, the King. For I had found +My love at last: what matter if it were +A guilty love? Yet love is love indeed, +Stronger than heaven or hell. Day after day +I set myself to tempt him from his proud +And innocent way, for I had spurned aside +Care for the gods or men--all but my love. + + What need to tell the tale? Was it a sigh, +A blush, a momentary glance, which brought +Assurance of my triumph? It is long +Since I have lived, I cannot tell; I know +Only the penalty of death and hell +Which followed on my sin. I knew he loved. +It was not wonderful, seeing that we dwelt +A boy and girl together. I was fair, +And Eros fired my eyes and lent my voice +His own soft tremulous tones. But when our souls +Trembled upon the verge, and fancy feigned +His arms around me as we fled alone +To some free land of exile, lo! a scroll: +'Dearest, it may not be; I fear the Gods; +We dare not do this wrong. I go from hence +And see thy face no more. Farewell! Forget +The love we may not own; go, seek for both +Forgiveness from the gods.' + When I read the words, +The cruel words, methought my heart stood still, +And when the ebbing life returned I seemed +To have lost all thought of Love. Only Revenge +Dwelt with me still, the fiercer that I knew +My long-prized hope, which came so near success, +Snatched from me and for ever. + When I rose +From my deep swoon, I bade a messenger +Go, seek the King for me. He came and sate +Beside my couch, and all the doors were closed, +And all withdrawn. Then with the liar's art, +And hypocrite tears, and feigned reluctancy, +And all the subtle wiles a woman draws +From the armoury of hate, I did instil +The poison to his soul. Cunning devices, +Feigned sorrow, mention of his son, regrets, +And half confessions--these, with hateful skill +Confused together, drove the old man's soul +To frenzy; and I watched him, with a sneer, +Turn to a dotard thirsting for the life +Of his own child. But how to do the deed, +Yet shed no blood, nor know the people's hate, +Who loved the Prince, I knew not. + Till one day +The old man, looking out upon the sea, +Besought the dread Poseidon to avenge +The treachery of his son. Even as we stood +Gazing upon the breathless blue, a cloud +Rose from the deep, a little fleecy cloud, +Which sudden grew and grew, and turned the blue +To purple; and a swift wind rose and sang +Higher and higher, and the wine-dark sea +Grew ruffled, and within the circling bay +The tiny ripples, stealing up the sand, +Plunged loud with manes of foam, until they swelled +To misty surges thundering on the shore. + + Then at the old man's elbow as I stood, +A deep dark thought, sent by the powers of ill, +Answering, as now I know, my own black hate +And not my poor dupe's anger, fired my soul +And bade me speak. 'The god has heard thy prayer,' +I whispered; 'See the surge which wakes and swells +To fury; well I know what things shall be. +It is Poseidon's voice sounds in the storm +And sends thy vengeance. Young Hippolytus +Loves, as thou knowest, on the yellow sand, +Hard by the rippled margin of the wave, +To urge his flying steeds. Bid him go forth-- +He will obey--and see what recompense +The god will send his wrong.' + In the old man's eyes +A watery gleam of malice played awhile-- +I hated him for it--and he bade his son +Drive forth his chariot on the sand, and yoke +His three young fiery steeds. + And still the storm +Blew fiercer and more fierce, and the white crests +Plunged on the strand, and the high promontories +Resounded counter-stricken, and a mist +Of foam, blown landward, hid the sounding shore. + + Then saw I him come forth and bid them yoke +His untamed colts. I had not seen his face +Since that last day, but, seeing him, I felt +The old love spring anew, yet mixed with hate-- +A storm of warring passions. Tho' I knew +What end should come, yet would I speak no word +That might avert it. The old man looked forth; +I think he had well-nigh forgotten all +The wrong he fancied and the doom he prayed, +All but the father's pride in the strong son, +Who was so young and bold. I saw a smile +Upon the dotard's face, when now the steeds +Were harnessed and the chariot, on the sand +Along the circling margin of the bay, +Flew, swift as light. A sudden gleam of sun +Flashed on the silver harness as it went, +Burned on the brazen axles of the wheels, +And on the golden fillets of the Prince +Doubled the gold. Sometimes a larger wave +Would dash in mist around him, and in fear +The rearing coursers plunged, and then again +The strong young arm constrained them, and they flashed +To where the wave-worn foreland ends the bay. + + And then he turned his chariot, a bright speck +Now seen, now hidden, but always, tho' the surge +Broke round it, safe; emerging like a star +From the white clouds of foam. And as I watched, +Speaking no word, and breathing scarce a breath, +I saw the firm limbs strongly set apart +Upon the chariot, and the reins held high, +And the proud head bent forward, with long locks +Streaming behind, as nearer and more near +The swift team rushed--until, with a half joy, +It seemed as if my love might yet elude +The slow sure anger of the god, dull wrath +Swayed by a woman's lie. + But on the verge, +As I cast my eyes, a vast and purple wall +Swelled swiftly towards the land; the lesser waves +Sank as it came, and to its toppling crest +The spume-flecked waters, from the strand drawn back, +Left dry the yellow shore. Onward it came, +Hoarse, capped with breaking foam, lurid, immense, +Rearing its dreadful height. The chariot sped +Nearer and nearer. I could see my love +With the light of victory in his eyes, the smile +Of daring on his lips: so near he came +To where the marble palace-wall confined +The narrow strip of beach--his brave young eyes +Fixed steadfast on the goal, in the pride of life, +Without a thought of death. I strove to cry, +But terror choked my breath. Then, like a bull +Upon the windy level of the plain +Lashing himself to rage, the furious wave, +Poising itself a moment, tossing high +Its wind-vexed crest, dashed downward on the strand +With a stamp, with a rush, with a roar. + And when I looked, +The shore, the fields, the plain, were one white sea +Of churning, seething foam--chariot and steeds +Gone, and my darling on the wave's white crest +Tossed high, whirled down, beaten, and bruised, and flung, +Dying upon the marble. + + My great love +Sprang up redoubled, and cast out my hate +And spurned all thought of fear; and down the stair +I hurried, and upon the bleeding form +I threw myself, and raised his head, and clasped +His body to mine, and kissed him on the lips, +And in his dying ear confessed my wrong, +And saw the horror in his dying eyes +And knew that I was damned. And when he breathed +His last pure breath, I rose and slowly spake-- +Turned to a Fury now by love and pain-- +To the old man who knelt, while all the throng +Could hear my secret: 'See, thou fool, I am +The murderess of thy son, and thou my dupe, +Thou and thy gods. See, he was innocent; +I murdered him for love. I scorn ye all, +Thee and thy gods together, who are deceived +By a woman's lying tongue! Oh, doting fool, +To hate thy own! And ye, false powers, which punish +The innocent, and let the guilty soul +Escape unscathed, I hate ye all--I curse, +I loathe you!' + Then I stooped and kissed my love, +And left them in amaze; and up the stair +Swept slowly to my chamber, and therein, +Hating my life and cursing men and gods, +I did myself to death. + But even here, +I find my punishment. Oh, dreadful doom +Of souls like mine! To see their evil done +Always before their eyes, the one dread scene +Of horror. See, the dark wave on the verge +Towers horrible, and he---- Oh, Love, my Love! +Safety is near! quick! quicker! urge them on! +Thou wilt 'scape it yet!--Nay, nay, it bursts on him! +I have shed the innocent blood! Oh, dreadful gaze +Within his glazing eyes! Hide them, ye gods! +Hide them! I cannot bear them. Quick! a dagger! +I will lose their glare in death. Nay, die I cannot; +I must endure and live--Death brings not peace +To the lost souls in Hell." + And her eyes stared, +Rounded with horror, and she stooped and gazed +So eagerly, and pressed her fevered hands +Upon her trembling forehead with such pain +As drives the gazer mad. + + + + + Then as I passed, +I marked against the hardly dawning sky +A toilsome figure standing, bent and strained, +Before a rocky mass, which with great pain +And agony of labour it would thrust +Up a steep hill. But when upon the crest +It poised a moment, then I held my breath +With dread, for, lo! the poor feet seemed to clutch +The hillside as in fear, and the poor hands +With hopeless fingers pressed into the stone +In agony, and the limbs stiffened, and a cry +Like some strong swimmer's, whom the mightier stream +Sweeps downward, and he sees his children's eyes +Upon the bank; broke from him; and at last, +After long struggles of despair, the limbs +Relaxed, and as I closed my fearful eyes, +Seeing the inevitable doom--a crash, +A horrible thunderous noise, as down the steep +The shameless fragment leapt. From crag to crag +It bounded ever swifter, striking fire +And wrapt in smoke, as to the lowest depths +Of the vale it tore, and seemed to take with it +The miserable form whose painful gaze +I caught, as with the great rock whirled and dashed +Downward, and marking every crag with gore +And long gray hairs, it plunged, yet living still, +To the black hollow; and then a silence came +More dreadful than the noise, and a low groan +Was all that I could hear. + When to the foot +Of the dark steep I hurried, half in hope +To find the victim dead--not recognizing +The undying life of Hell--I seemed to see +An aged man, bruised, bleeding, with gray hairs, +And eyes from which the cunning leer of greed +Was scarcely yet gone out. + A crafty voice +It was that answered me, the voice of guile +Part purified by pain: + "There comes not death +To those who live in Hell, nor hardly pause +Of suffering longer than may serve to make +The pain renewed, more piercing. Long ago, +I thought that I had cheated Death, and now +I seek him; but he comes not, nor know I +If ever he will hear me. Whence art thou? +Comest thou from earthly air, or whence? What power +Has brought thee hither? For I know indeed +Thou art not lost as I; for never here +I look upon a human face, nor see +The ghosts who doubtless here on every side +Suffer a common pain, only at times +I hear the echo of a shriek far off, +Like some faint ghost of woe which fills the pause +And interval of suffering; but from whom +The voice may come, or whence, I know not, only +The air teems with vague pain, which doth distract +The ear when for a moment comes surcease +Of agony, and the sense of effort spent +In vain and fruitless labour, and the pang +Of long-deferred defeat, which waits and takes +The world-worn heart, and maddens it when all-- +Heaven, conscience, happiness, are staked and lost +For gains which still elude it. + Yet 'twas sweet, +A King in early youth, when pleasure is sweet, +To live the fair successful years, and know +The envy and respect of men. I cared +For none of youth's delights: the dance, the song, +Allured me not; the smooth soft ways of sense +Tempted me not at all. I could despise +The follies that I shared not, spending all +The long laborious days in toilsome schemes +To compass honour and wealth, and, as I grew +In name and fame, finding my hoarded gains +Transmuted into Power. The seas were white +With laden argosies, and all were mine. +The sheltering moles defied the wintry storms, +And all were mine. The marble aqueducts, +The costly bridges, all were mine. Fair roads +Wound round and round the hills--my work. The gods +Alone I heeded not, nor cared at all +For aught but that my eyes and ears might take, +Spurning invisible things, nor built I to them +Temple or shrine, wrapt up in life, set round +With earthly blessings like a god. I rose +To such excess of weal and fame and pride, +My people held me god-like. I grew drunk +With too great power, scoffing at men and gods, +Careless of both, but not averse to fling +To those too weak themselves, what benefits +My larger wisdom spurned. + Then suddenly +I knew the pain of failure. Summer storms +Sucked down my fleets even within sight of port. +A grievous blight wasted the harvest-fields, +Mocking my hopes of gain. Wars came and drained +My store, and I grew needy, knowing now +The hell of stronger souls, the loss of power +Wherein they exulted once. There comes no pain +Deeper than to have known delight of power, +And then to lose it all. But I, I would not +Sit tame beneath defeat, trimming my sails +To wait the breeze of Fortune--fickle breath +Which perhaps might breathe no more--but chose instead +By rash conceit and bolder enterprise +To win her aid again. I had no thought +Of selfish gain, only to be and act +As a god to those, feeding my sum of pride +With acted good. + But evermore defeat +Dogged me, and evermore my people grew +To doubt me, seeing no more the wealth, the force, +Which once they worshipped. Then the lust of power +Loved, not for sake of others, but itself, +Grew on me, and the pride which can dare all, +Save failure only, seized me. Evil finds +Its ready chance. There were rich argosies +Upon the seas: I sank them, ship and crew, +In the unbetraying ocean. Wayfarers +Crossing the passes with rich merchandise +My creatures, hid behind the crags, o'erwhelmed +With rocks hurled downward. Yet I spent my gains +For the public weal, not otherwise; and they, +The careless people, took the piteous spoils +Which cost the lives of many, and a man's soul, +And blessed the giver. Empty venal blessings, +Which sting more deep than curses! + For awhile +I was content with this, but at the last +A great contempt and hatred of them took me, +The base, vile churls! Why should I stain my soul +For such as those--dogs that would fawn and lick +The hand that fed them, but, if food should fail, +Would turn and rend me? I would none of them; +I would grow rich and happy, being indeed +Godlike in brain to such. So with all craft, +And guile, and violence I enriched me, loading +My treasuries with gold. My deep-laid schemes +Of gain engrossed the long laborious days, +Stretched far into the night. Enjoy, I might not, +Seeing it was all to do, and life so brief +That ere a man might gain the goal he would, +Lo! Age, and with it Death, and so an end! +For all the tales of the indignant gods, +What were they but the priests'? I had myself +Broken all oaths; long time deceived and ruined +With every phase of fraud the pious fools +Whom oath-sworn Justice bound; battened on blood +And what was I the worse? How should the gods +Bear rule if I were happy? Death alone +Was certain. Therefore must I haste to heap +Treasure sufficient for my need, and then +Enjoy the gathered good. + But gradually +There came--not great disasters which might crush +All hope, but petty checks which did decrease +My store, and left my labour vain, and me +Unwilling to enjoy; and gradually +I felt the chill approach of age, which stole +Higher and higher on me, till the life, +As in a paralytic, left my limbs +And heart, and mounted upwards to my brain, +Its last resort, and rested there awhile +Ere it should spread its wings. But even thus, +Tho' powerless to enjoy, the insatiate greed +And thirst of power sustained me, and supplied +Life's spark with some scant fuel, till it seemed, +Year after year, as if I could not die, +Holding so fast to life. I grew so old +That all the comrades of my youth, my prime, +My age, were gone, and I was left alone +With those who knew me not, bereft of all +Except my master passion--an old man +Forlorn, forgotten of the gods and Death. + + So all the people, seeing me grow old +And prosperous, held me wise, and spread abroad +Strange fables, growing day by day more strange-- +How I deceived the very gods. They thought +That I was blest, remembering not the wear +Of anxious thought, the growing sum of pain, +The failing ear and eye, the slower limbs, +Whose briefer name is Age: and yet I trow +I was not all unhappy, though I knew +It was too late to enjoy, and though my store +Increased not as my greed--nay, even sunk down +A little, year by year. Till, last of all, +When now my time was come and I had grown +A little tired of living, a trivial hurt +Laid me upon my bed; and as I mused +On my long life and all its villanies, +The wickedness I did, the blood I shed, +The guile, the frauds of years--they came with news, +One now, and now another; how my schemes +Were crushed, my enterprises lost, my toil +And labour all in vain. Day after day +They brought these tidings, while I longed to rise +And stay the tide of ill, and raved to know +I could not. At the last the added sum +Of evil, like yon great rock poised awhile +Uncertain, gathered into one, o'erwhelmed +My feeble strength, and left me ruined and lost, +And showed me all I was, and all the depth +And folly of my sin, and racked my brain, +And sank me in despair and misery, +And broke my heart and slew me. + Therefore 'tis +I spend the long, long centuries which have come +Between me and my sin, in such dread tasks +As that thou sawest. In the soul I sinned: +In body and soul I suffer. What I bade +My minions do to others, that of woe +I bear myself; and in the pause of ill, +As now, I know again the bitter pang +Of failure, which of old pierced thro' my soul +And left me to despair. The pain of mind +Is fiercer far than any bodily ill, +And both are mine--the pang of torture-pain +Always recurring; and, far worse, the pang +Of consciousness of black sins sinned in vain-- +The doom of constant failure. + Will, fierce Will! +Thou parent of unrest and toil and woe, +Measureless effort! growing day by day +To force strong souls along the giddy steep +That slopes to the pit of Hell, where effort serves +Only to speed destruction! Yet I know +Thou art not, as some hold, the primal curse +Which doth condemn us; since thou bearest in thee +No power to satisfy thyself; but rather, +The spring of act, whereby in earth and heaven +Both men and gods do breathe and live and are, +Since Life is Act and not to Do is Death-- +I do not blame thee: but to work in vain +Is bitterest penalty: to find at last +The soul all fouled with sin and stained with blood +In vain; ah, this is hell indeed--the hell +Of lost and striving souls!" + Then as I passed, +The halting figure bent itself again +To the old task, and up the rugged steep +Thrust the great rock with groanings. Horror chained +My parting footsteps, like a nightmare dream +Which holds us that we flee not, with wide eyes +That loathe to see, yet cannot choose but gaze +Till all be done. Slowly, with dreadful toil +And struggle and strain, and bleeding hands and knees, +And more than mortal strength, against the hill +He pressed, the wretched one! till with long pain +He trembled on the summit, a gaunt form, +With that great rock above him, poised and strained, +Now gaining, now receding, now in act +To win the summit, now borne down again, +And then the inevitable crash--the mass +Leaping from crag to crag. But ere it ceased +In dreadful silence, and the low groan came, +My limbs were loosed with one convulsive bound; +I hid my face within my hands, and fled, +Surfeit with horror. + + + + + Then it was again +A woman whom I saw, pitiless, stern, +Bearing the brand of blood--a lithe dark form, +And cruel eyes which glared beneath the gems +That argued her a Queen, and on her side +An ancient stain of gore, which did befoul +Her royal robe. A murderess in thought +And dreadful act, who took within the toils +Her kingly Lord, and slew him of old time +After burnt Troy. I had no time to speak +When she shrieked thus: + "It doth repent me not +I would 'twere yet to do, and I would do it +Again a thousand times, if the shed blood +Might for one hour restore me to the kisses +Of my AEgisthus. Oh, he was divine, +My hero, with the godlike locks and eyes +Of Eros' self! What boots it that they prate +Of wifely duty, love of spouse or child, +Honour or pity, when the swift fire takes +A woman's heart, and burns it out, and leaps +With fierce forked tongue around it, till it lies +In ashes, a dead heart, nor aught remains +Of old affections, naught but the new flame +Which is unquenched desire? + It did not come, +My blessing, all at once, but the slow fruit +Of solitude and midnight loneliness, +And weary waiting for the tardy news +Of taken Troy. Long years I sate alone, +Widowed, within my palace, while my Lord +Was over seas, waging the accursed war, +First of the file of Kings. Year after year +Came false report, or harder, no report +Of the great fleet. The summers waxed and waned, +The wintry surges smote the sounding shores, +And yet there came no end of it. They brought +Now hopeless failure, now great victories; +And all alike were false, all but delay +And hope deferred, which cometh not, but breaks +The heart which suffering wrings not. + So I bore +Long time the solitary years, and sought +To solace the dull days with motherly cares +For those my Lord had left me. My firstborn, +Iphigeneia, sailed at first with him +Upon that fatal voyage, but the young +Orestes and Electra stayed with me-- +Not dear as she was, for the firstborn takes +The mother's heart, and, with the milk it draws +From the mother's virgin breast, drains all the love +It bore, ay, even tho' the sire be dear; +Much more, then, when he is a King indeed, +Mighty in war and council, but too high +To stoop to a woman's love. But she was gone, +Nor heard I tidings of her, knowing not +If yet she walked the earth, nor if she bare +The load of children, even as I had borne +Her in my opening girlhood, when I leapt +From child to Queen, but never loved the King. + + Thus the slow years rolled onward, till at last +There came a dreadful rumour--'She is dead, +Thy daughter, years ago. The cruel priests +Clamoured for blood; the stern cold Kings stood round +Without a tear, and he, her sire, with them, +To see a virgin bleed. They cut with knives +The taper girlish throat; they watched the blood +Drip slowly on the sand, and the young life +Meek as a lamb come to the sacrifice +To appease the angry gods.' And he, the King, +Her father, stood by too, and saw them do it, +The wickedness, breathing no word of wrath, +Till all was done! The cowards! the dull cowards! +I would some black storm, bursting suddenly, +Had whelmed them and their fleets, ere yet they dared +To waste an innocent life! + I had gone mad, +I know it, but for him, my love, my dear, +My fair sweet love. He came to comfort me +With words of friendship, holding that my Lord +Was bound, perhaps, to let her die--'The gods +Were ofttimes hard to appease--or was it indeed +The priests who asked it? Were there any gods? +Or only phantoms, creatures of the brain, +Born of the fears of men, the greed of priests, +Useful to govern women? Had he been +Lord of the fleet, not all the soothsayers +Who ever frighted cowards should have brought +His soul to such black depths.' I hearkening to him +As 'twere my own thought grown articulate, +Found my grief turn to hate, and hate to love-- +Hate of my Lord, love of the voice which spoke +Such dear and comfortable words. And thus, +Love to a storm of passion growing, swept +My wounded soul and dried my tears, as dries +The hot sirocco all the bitter pools +Of salt among the sand. I never knew +True love before; I was a child, no more, +When the King cast his eyes on me. What is it +To have borne the weight of offspring 'neath the zone, +If Love be not their sire; or live long years +Of commerce, not of love? Better a day +Of Passion than the long unlovely years +Of wifely duty, when Love cometh not +To wake the barren days! + And yet at first +I hesitated long, nor would embrace +The blessing that was mine. We are hedged round, +We women, by such close-drawn ordinances, +Set round us by our tyrants, that we fear +To overstep a hand's breadth the dull bounds +Of custom; but at last Love, waking in me, +Burst all my chains asunder, and I lived +For naught but Love. + My son, the young Orestes, +I sent far off; my girl Electra only +Remained, too young to doubt me, and I knew +At last what 'twas to live. + So the swift years +Fleeted and found me happy, till the dark +Ill-omened day when Rumour, thousand-tongued, +Whispered of taken Troy; and from my dream +Of happiness, sudden I woke, and knew +The coming retribution. We had grown +Too loving for concealment, and our tale +Of mutual love was bruited far and wide +Through Argos. All the gossips bruited it, +And were all tongue to tell it to the King +When he should come. And should the cold proud Lord +I never loved, the murderer of my girl, +Come 'twixt my love and me? A swift resolve +Flashed through me pondering on it: Love for Love +And Blood for Blood--the simple golden rule +Taught by the elder gods. + When I had taken +My fixed resolve, I grew impatient for it, +Counting the laggard days. Oh, it was sweet +To simulate the yearning of a wife +Long parted from her Lord, and mock the fools +Who dogged each look and word, and but for fear +Had torn me from my throne--the pies, the jays, +The impotent chatterers, who thought by words +To stay me in the act! 'Twas sweet to mock them +And read distrust within their eyes, when I, +Knowing my purpose, bade them quick prepare +All fitting honours for the King, and knew +They dared not disobey--oh, 'twas enough +To wing the slow-paced hours. + But when at last +I saw his sails upon the verge, and then +The sea-worn ship, and marked his face grown old, +The body a little bent, which was so straight, +The thin gray hairs which were the raven locks +Of manhood when he went, I felt a moment +I could not do the deed. But when I saw +The beautiful sad woman come with him, +The future in her eyes, and her sad voice +Proclaimed the tale of doom, two thoughts at once +Assailed me, bidding me despatch with a blow +Him and his mistress, making sure the will +Of fate, and my revenge. + Oh, it was strange +To see all happen as we planned; as 'twere +Some drama oft rehearsed, wherein each step, +Each word, is so prepared, the poorest player +Knows his turn come to do--the solemn landing-- +The ride to the palace gate--the courtesies +Of welcome--the mute crowds without--the bath +Prepared within--the precious circling folds +Of tissue stretched around him, shutting out +The gaze, and folding helpless like a net +The mighty limbs--the battle-axe laid down +Against the wall, and I, his wife and Queen, +Alone with him, waiting and watching still, +Till the woman shrieked without. Then with swift step +I seized the axe, and struck him as he lay +Helpless, once, twice, and thrice--once for my girl, +Once for my love, once for the woman, and all +For Fate and my Revenge! + He gave a groan, +Once only, as I thought he might; and then +No sound but the quick gurgling of the blood, +As it flowed from him in streams, and turned the pure +And limpid water of the bath to red-- +I had not looked for that--it flowed and flowed, +And seemed to madden me to look on it, +Until my love with hands bloody as mine, +But with the woman's blood, rushed in, and eyes +Rounded with horror; and we turned to go, +And left the dead alone. + But happiness +Still mocked me, and a doubt unknown before +Came on me, and amid the silken shows +And luxury of power I seemed to see +Another answer to my riddle of life +Than that I gave myself, and it was 'murder;' +And in my people's sullen mien and eyes, +'Murder;' and in the mirror, when I looked, +'Murder' glared out, and terror lest my son +Returning, grown to manhood, should avenge +His father's blood. For somehow, as 'twould seem, +The gods, if gods there be, or the stern Fate +Which doth direct our little lives, do filch +Our happiness--though bright with Love's own ray, +There comes a cloud which veils it. Yet, indeed, +My days were happy. I repent me not; +I would wade through seas of blood to know again +Those fierce delights once more. + But my young girl +Electra, grown to woman, turned from me +Her modest maiden eyes, nor loved to set +Her kiss upon my cheek, but, all distraught +With secret care, hid her from all the pomps +And revelries which did befit her youth, +Walking alone; and often at the tomb +Of her lost sire they found her, pouring out +Libations to the dead. And evermore +I did bethink me of my son Orestes, +Who now should be a man; and yearned sometimes +To see his face, yet feared lest from his eyes +His father's soul should smite me. + So I lived +Happy and yet unquiet--a stern voice +Speaking of doom, which long time softer notes +Of careless weal, the music that doth spring +From the fair harmonies of life and love, +Would drown in their own concord. This at times +Nay, day by day, stronger and dreadfuller, +With dominant accent, marred the sounds of joy +By one prevailing discord. So at length +I came to lose the Present in the dread +Of what might come; the penalty that waits +Upon successful sin; who, having sinned, +Had missed my sin's reward. + Until one day +I, looking from my palace casement, saw +A humble suppliant, clad in pilgrim garb, +Approach the marble stair. A sudden throb +Thrilled thro' me, and the mother's heart went forth +Thro' all disguise of garb and rank and years, +Knowing my son. How fair he was, how tall +And vigorous, my boy! What strong straight limbs +And noble port! How beautiful the shade +Of manhood on his lip! I longed to burst +From my chamber down, yearning to throw myself +Upon his neck within the palace court, +Before the guards--spurning my queenly rank, +All but my motherhood. And then a chill +Of doubt o'erspread me, knowing what a gulf +Fate set between our lives, impassable +As that great gulf which yawns 'twixt life and death +And 'twixt this Hell and Heaven. I shrank back, +And turned to think a moment, half in fear, +And half in pain; dividing the swift mind, +Yet all in love. + Then came a cry, a groan, +From the inner court, the clash of swords, the fall +Of a body on the pavement; and one cried, +'The King is dead, slain by the young Orestes, +Who cometh hither.' With the word, the door +Flew open, and my son stood straight before me, +His drawn sword dripping blood. Oh, he was fair +And terrible to see, when from his limbs, +The suppliant's mantle fallen, left the mail +And arms of a young warrior. Love and Hate, +Which are the offspring of a common sire, +Strove for the mastery, till within his eyes +I saw his father's ghost glare unappeased +From out Love's casements. + Then I knew my fate +And his--mine to be slain by my son's hand, +And his to slay me, since the Furies drave +Our lives to one destruction; and I took +His point within my breast. + But I praise not +The selfish, careless gods who wrecked our lives, +Making the King the murderer of his girl, +And me his murderess; making my son +The murderer of his mother and her love-- +A mystery of blood!--I curse them all, +The careless Forces, sitting far withdrawn +Upon the heights of Space, taking men's lives +For playthings, and deriding as in sport +Our happiness and woe--I curse them all. +We have a right to joy; we have a right, +I say, as they have. Let them stand confessed +The puppets that they are--too weak to give +The good they feign to love, since Fate, too strong +For them as us, beyond their painted sky, +Sits and derides them, too. I curse Fate too, +The deaf blind Fury, taking human souls +And crushing them, as a dull fretful child +Crushes its toys and knows not with what skill +Those feeble forms are feigned. + I curse, I loathe, +I spit on them. It doth repent me not. +I would 'twere yet to do. I have lived my life. +I have loved. See, there he lies within the bath, +And thus I smite him! thus! Didst hear him groan? +Oh, vengeance, thou art sweet! What, living still? +Ah me! we cannot die! Come, torture me, +Ye Furies--for I love not soothing words-- +As once ye did my son. Ye miserable +Blind ministers of Hell, I do defy you; +Not all your torments can undo the Past +Of Passion and of Love!" + + Even as she spake +There came a viewless trouble in the air, +Which took her, and a sweep of wings unseen, +And terrible sounds, which swooped on her and hushed +Her voice, and seemed to occupy her soul +With horror and despair; and as she passed +I marked her agonized eyes. + + + + + But as I went, +Full many a dreadful shape of lonely pain +I saw. What need to tell them? We are filled +Who live to-day with a more present sense +Of the great love of God, than those of old +Who, groping in the dawn of Knowledge, saw +Only dark shadows of the Unknown; or he, +First-born of modern singers, who swept deep +His awful lyre, and woke the voice of song, +Dumb for long centuries of pain. We dread +To dwell on those long agonies its sin +Brings on the offending soul; who hold a creed +Of deeper Pity, knowing what chains of ill +Bind round our petty lives. Each phase of woe, +Suffering, and torture which the gloomy thought +Of bigots feigns for others--all were there. +One there was stretched upon a rolling wheel, +Which was the barren round of sense, that still +Returned upon itself and broke the limbs +Bound to it day and night. Others I saw +Doomed, with unceasing toil, to fill the urns +Whose precious waters sank ere they could slake +Their burning thirst. Another shapeless soul, +Full of revolts and hates and tyrannous force, +The weight of earth, which was its earth-born taint, +Pressed groaning down, while with fierce beak and claw +The vulture of remorse, piercing his breast, +Preyed on his heart. For others, overhead, +Great crags of rock impending seemed to fall, +But fell not nor brought peace. I felt my soul +Blunted with horrors, yearning to escape +To where, upon the limits of the wood, +Some scanty twilight grew. + But ere I passed +From those grim shades a deep voice sounded near, +A voice without a form. + "There is an end +Of all things that thou seest! There is an end +Of Wrong and Death and Hell! When the long wear +Of Time and Suffering has effaced the stain +Ingrown upon the soul, and the cleansed spirit, +Long ages floating on the wandering winds +Or rolling deeps of Space, renews itself +And doth regain its dwelling, and, once more +Blent with the general order, floats anew +Upon the stream of Things,[2] and comes at length, +After new deaths, to that dim waiting-place +Thou next shalt see, and with the justified +White souls awaits the End; or, snatched at once, +If Fate so will, to the pure sphere itself, +Lives and is blest, and works the Eternal Work +Whose name and end is Love! There is an end +Of Wrong and Death and Hell!" + Even as I heard, +I passed from out the shadow of Death and Pain, +Crying, "There is an end!" + + + + + END OF BOOK I. + + + + + BOOK II. + + HADES. + + + + + Then from those dark +And dreadful precincts passing, ghostly fields +And voiceless took me. A faint twilight veiled +The leafless, shadowy trees and herbless plains. +There stirred no breath of air to wake to life +The slumbers of the world. The sky above +Was one gray, changeless cloud. There looked no eye +Of Life from the veiled heavens; but Sleep and Death +Were round me everywhere. And yet no fear +Nor horror took me here, where was no pain +Nor dread, save that strange tremor which assails +One who in life's hot noontide looks on death +And knows he too shall die. The ghosts which rose +From every darkling copse showed thin and pale-- +Thinner and paler far than those I left +In agony; even as Pity seems to wear +A thinner form than Fear. + Not caged alone +Like those the avenging Furies purged were these, +Nor that dim land as those black cavernous depths +Where no hope comes. Fair souls were they and white +Whom there I saw, waiting as we shall wait, +The Beatific End, but thin and pale +As the young faith which made them; touched a little +By the sad memories of the earth; made glad +A little by past joys: no more; and wrapt +In musing on the brief play played by them +Upon the lively earth, yet ignorant +Of the long lapse of years, and what had been +Since they too breathed Life's air, or if they knew, +Keeping some echo only; but their pain +Was fainter than their joy, and a great hope +Like ours possessed them dimly. + + + + + First I saw +A youth who pensive leaned against the trunk +Of a dark cypress, and an idle flute +Hung at his side. A sorrowful sad soul, +Such as sometimes he knows, who meets the gaze, +Mute, uncomplaining yet most pitiful, +Of one whom nature, by some secret spite, +Has maimed and left imperfect; or the pain +Which fills a poet's eyes. Beneath his robe +I seemed to see the scar of cruel stripes, +Too hastily concealed. Yet was he not +Wholly unhappy, but from out the core +Of suffering flowed a secret spring of joy, +Which mocked the droughts of Fate, and left him glad +And glorying in his sorrow. As I gazed +He raised his silent flute, and, half ashamed, +Blew a soft note; and as I stayed awhile +I heard him thus discourse-- + "The flute is sweet +To gods and men, but sweeter far the lyre +And voice of a true singer. Shall I fear +To tell of that great trial, when I strove +And Phoebus conquered? Nay, no shame it is +To bow to an immortal melody; +But glory. + Once among the Phrygian hills +I lay a-musing,--while the silly sheep +Wandered among the thyme--upon the bank +Of a clear mountain stream, beneath the pines, +Safe hidden from the noon. A dreamy haze +Played on the uplands, but the hills were clear +In sunlight, and no cloud was on the sky. +It was the time when a deep silence comes +Upon the summer earth, and all the birds +Have ceased from singing, and the world is still +As midnight, and if any live thing move-- +Some fur-clad creature, or cool gliding snake-- +Within the pipy overgrowth of weeds, +The ear can catch the rustle, and the trees +And earth and air are listening. As I lay, +Faintly, as in a dream, I seemed to hear +A tender music, like the AEolian chords, +Sound low within the woodland, whence the stream, +Flowed full, yet silent. Long, with ear to ground, +I hearkened; and the sweet strain, fuller grown, +Rounder and clearer came, and danced along +In mirthful measure now, and now grown grave +In dying falls, and sweeter and more clear, +Tripping at nuptials and high revelry, +Wailing at burials, rapt in soaring thoughts, +Chanting strange sea-tales full of mystery, +Touching all chords of being, and life and death, +Now rose, now sank, and always was divine, +So strange the music came. + Till, as I lay +Enraptured, swift a sudden discord rang, +And all the sound grew still. A sudden flash, +As from a sunlit jewel, fired the wood. +A noise of water smitten, and on the hills +A fair white fleece of cloud, which swiftly climbed +Into the farthest heaven. Then, as I mused, +Knowing a parting goddess, straight I saw +A sudden splendour float upon the stream, +And knew it for this jewelled flute, which paused +Before me on an eddy. It I snatched +Eager, and to my ardent lips I bore +The wonder, and behold, with the first breath-- +The first warm human breath, the silent strains. +The half-drowned notes which late the goddess blew, +Revived, and sounded clearer, sweeter far +Than mortal skill could make. So with delight +I left my flocks to wander o'er the wastes +Untended, and the wolves and eagles seized +The tender lambs, but I was for my art-- +Nought else; and though the high-pitched notes divine +Grew faint, yet something lingered, and at last +So sweet a note I sounded of my skill, +That all the Phrygian highlands, all the white +Hill villages, were fain to hear the strain, +Which the mad shepherd made. + So, overbold, +And rapt in my new art, at last I dared +To challenge Phoebus' self. + 'Twas a fair day +When sudden, on the mountain side, I saw +A train of fleecy clouds in a white band +Descending. Down the gleaming pinnacles +And difficult crags they floated, and the arch, +Drawn with its thousand rays against the sun, +Hung like a glory o'er them. Midst the pines +They clothed themselves with form, and straight I knew +The immortals. Young Apollo, with his lyre, +Kissed by the sun, and all the Muses clad +In robes of gleaming white; then a great fear, +Yet mixed with joy, assailed me, for I knew +Myself a mortal equalled with the gods. + + Ah me! how fair they were! how fair and dread +In face and form, they showed, when now they came +Upon the thymy slope, and the young god +Lay with his choir around him, beautiful +And bold as Youth and Dawn! There was no cloud +Upon the sky, nor any sound at all +When I began my strain. No coward fear +Of what might come restrained me; but an awe +Of those immortal eyes and ears divine +Looking and listening. All the earth seemed full +Of ears for me alone--the woods, the fields, +The hills, the skies were listening. Scarce a sound +My flute might make; such subtle harmonies +The silence seemed to weave round me and flout +The half unuttered thought. Till last I blew, +As now, a hesitating note, and lo! +The breath divine, lingering on mortal lips, +Hurried my soul along to such fair rhymes, +Sweeter than wont, that swift I knew my life +Rise up within me, and expand, and all +The human, which so nearly is divine, +Was glorified, and on the Muses' lips, +And in their lovely eyes, I saw a fair +Approval, and my soul in me was glad. + + For all the strains I blew were strains of love-- +Love striving, love triumphant, love that lies +Within beloved arms, and wreathes his locks +With flowers, and lets the world go by and sings +Unheeding; and I saw a kindly gleam +Within the Muses' eyes, who were indeed, +Women, though god-like. + But upon the face +Of the young Sun-god only haughty scorn +Sate and he swiftly struck his golden lyre, +And played the Song of Life; and lo, I knew +My strain, how earthy! Oh, to hear the young +Apollo playing! and the hidden cells +And chambers of the universe displayed +Before the charmed sound! I seemed to float +In some enchanted cave, where the wave dips +In from the sunlit sea, and floods its depths +With reflex hues of heaven. My soul was rapt +By that I heard, and dared to wish no more +For victory; and yet because the sound +Of music that is born of human breath +Comes straighter from the soul than any strain +The hand alone can make; therefore I knew, +With a mixed thrill of pity and delight, +The nine immortal Sisters hardly touched +By this fine strain of music, as by mine, +And when the high lay trembled to its close, +Still doubting. + Then upon the Sun-god's face +There passed a cold proud smile. He swept his lyre +Once more, then laid it down, and with clear voice, +The voice of godhead, sang. Oh, ecstasy, +Oh happiness of him who once has heard +Apollo singing! For his ears the sound +Of grosser music dies, and all the earth +Is full of subtle undertones, which change +The listener and transform him. As he sang-- +Of what I know not, but the music touched +Each chord of being--I felt my secret life +Stand open to it, as the parched earth yawns +To drink the summer rain; and at the call +Of those refreshing waters, all my thought +Stir from its dark and secret depths, and burst +Into sweet, odorous flowers, and from their wells +Deep call to deep, and all the mystery +Of all that is, laid open. As he sang, +I saw the Nine, with lovely pitying eyes, +Sign 'He has conquered.' Yet I felt no pang +Of fear, only deep joy that I had heard +Such music while I lived, even though it brought +Torture and death. For what were it to lie +Sleek, crowned with roses, drinking vulgar praise, +And surfeited with offerings, the dull gift +Of ignorant hands--all which I might have known-- +To this diviner failure? Godlike 'tis +To climb upon the icy ledge, and fall +Where other footsteps dare not. So I knew +My fate, and it was near. + For to a pine +They bound me willing, and with cruel stripes +Tore me, and took my life. + But from my blood +Was born the stream of song, and on its flow +My poor flute, to the cool swift river borne, +Floated, and thence adown a lordlier tide +Into the deep, wide sea. I do not blame +Phoebus, or Nature which has set this bar +Betwixt success and failure, for I know +How far high failure overleaps the bound +Of low successes. Only suffering draws +The inner heart of song and can elicit +The perfumes of the soul. 'Twere not enough +To fail, for that were happiness to him +Who ever upward looks with reverent eye +And seeks but to admire. So, since the race +Of bards soars highest; as who seek to show +Our lives as in a glass; therefore it comes +That suffering weds with song, from him of old, +Who solaced his blank darkness with his verse; +Through all the story of neglect and scorn, +Necessity, sheer hunger, early death, +Which smite the singer still. Not only those +Who keep clear accents of the voice divine +Are honourable--they are happy, indeed, +Whate'er the world has held--but those who hear +Some fair faint echoes, though the crowd be deaf, +And see the white gods' garments on the hills, +Which the crowd sees not, though they may not find +Fit music for their thought; they too are blest, +Not pitiable. Not from arrogant pride +Nor over-boldness fail they who have striven +To tell what they have heard, with voice too weak +For such high message. More it is than ease, +Palace and pomp, honours and luxuries, +To have seen white Presences upon the hills, +To have heard the voices of the Eternal Gods." + + So spake he, and I seemed to look on him, +Whose sad young eyes grow on us from the page +Of his own verse: who did himself to death: +Or whom the dullard slew: or whom the sea +Rapt from us: and I passed without a word, +Slow, grave, with many musings. + + + + + Then I came +On one a maiden, meek with folded hands, +Seated against a rugged face of cliff, +In silent thought. Anon she raised her arms, +Her gleaming arms, above her on the rock, +With hands which clasped each other, till she showed +As in a statue, and her white robe fell +Down from her maiden shoulders, and I knew +The fair form as it seemed chained to the stone +By some invisible gyves, and named her name: +And then she raised her frightened eyes to mine +As one who, long expecting some great fear, +Scarce sees deliverance come. But when she saw +Only a kindly glance, a softer look +Came in them, and she answered to my thought +With a sweet voice and low. + "I did but muse +Upon the painful past, long dead and done, +Forgetting I was saved. + The angry clouds +Burst always on the low flat plains, and swept +The harvest to the ocean; all the land +Was wasted. A great serpent from the deep, +Lifting his horrible head above their homes, +Devoured the children. And the people prayed +In vain to careless gods. + On that dear land, +Which now was turned into a sullen sea, +Gazing in safety from the stately towers +Of my sire's palace, I, a princess, saw, +Lapt in soft luxury, within my bower +The wreck of humble homes come whirling by, +The drowning, bleating flocks, the bellowing herds, +The grain scarce husbanded by toiling hands +Upon the sunlit plain, rush to the sea, +With floating corpses. On the rain-swept hills +The remnant of the people huddled close, +Homeless and starving. All my being was filled +With pity for them, and I joyed to give +What food and shelter and compassionate hands +Of woman might. I took the little ones +And clasped them shivering to the virgin breast +Which knew no other touch but theirs, and gave +Raiment and food. My sire, not stern to me, +Smiled on me as he saw. My gentle mother, +Who loved me with a closer love than binds +A mother to her son; and sunned herself +In my fresh beauty, seeing in my young eyes +Her own fair vanished youth; doted on me, +And fain had kept my eyes from the sad sights +That pained them. But my heart was sad in me, +Seeing the ineffable miseries of life, +And that mysterious anger of the gods, +And helpless to allay them. All in vain +Were prayer and supplication, all in vain +The costly victims steamed. The vengeful clouds +Hid the fierce sky, and still the ruin came. +And wallowing his grim length within the flood, +Over the ravaged fields and homeless homes, +The fell sea-monster raged, sating his jaws +With blood and rapine. + Then to the dread shrine +Of Ammon went the priests, and reverend chiefs +Of all the nation. White robed, at their head, +Went slow my royal sire. The oracle +Spoke clear, not as ofttimes in words obscure, +Ambiguous. And as we stood to meet +The suppliants--she who bare me, with her head +Upon my neck--we cheerful and with song +Welcomed their swift return; auguring well +From such a quick-sped mission. + But my sire +Hid his face from me, and the crowd of priests +And nobles looked not at us. And no word +Was spoken till at last one drew a scroll +And gave it to the queen, who straightway swooned, +Having read it, on my breast, and then I saw, +I the young girl whose soft life scarcely knew +Shadow of sorrow, I whose heart was full +Of pity for the rest, what doom was mine. + + I think I hardly knew in that dread hour +The fear that came anon; I was transformed +Into a champion of my race, made strong +With a new courage, glorying to meet, +In all the ecstasy of sacrifice, +Death face to face. Some god, I know not who, +O'erspread me, and despite my mother's tears +And my stern father's grief, I met my fate +Unshrinking. + When the moon rose clear from cloud +Once more again over the midnight sea, +And that vast watery plain, where were before +Hundreds of happy homes, and well-tilled fields, +And purple vineyards; from my father's towers +The white procession went along the paths, +The high cliff paths, which well I loved of old, +Among the myrtles. Priests with censers went +And offerings, robed in white, and round their brows +The sacred fillet. With his nobles walked +My sire with breaking heart. My mother clung +To me the victim, and the young girls went +With wailing and with tears. A solemn strain +The soft flutes sounded, as we went by night +To a wild headland, rock-based in the sea. + + There on a sea-worn rock, upon the verge, +To some rude stanchions, high above my head, +They bound me. Out at sea, a black reef rose, +Washed by the constant surge, wherein a cave +Sheltered deep down the monster. The sad queen +Would scarcely leave me, though the priests shrunk back +In terror. Last, torn from my endless kiss, +Swooning they bore her upwards. All my robe +Fell from my lifted arms, and left displayed +The virgin treasure of my breasts; and then +The white procession through the moonlight streamed +Upwards, and soon their soft flutes sounded low +Upon the high lawns, leaving me alone. + + There stood I in the moonlight, left alone +Against the sea-worn rock. Hardly I knew, +Seeing only the bright moon and summer sea, +Which gently heaved and surged, and kissed the ledge +With smooth warm tides, what fate was mine. I seemed, +Soothed by the quiet, to be resting still +Within my maiden chamber, and to watch +The moonlight thro' my lattice. Then again +Fear came, and then the pride of sacrifice +Filled me, as on the high cliff lawns I heard +The wailing cries, the chanted liturgies, +And knew me bound forsaken to the rock, +And saw the monster-haunted depths of sea. + + So all night long upon the sandy shores +I heard the hollow murmur of the wave, +And all night long the hidden sea caves made +A ghostly echo; and the sea birds mewed +Around me; once I heard a mocking laugh, +As of some scornful Nereid; once the waters +Broke louder on the scarped reefs, and ebbed +As if the monster coming; but again +He came not, and the dead moon sank, and still +Only upon the cliffs the wails, the chants, +And I forsaken on my sea-worn rock, +And lo, the monster-haunted depths of sea. + + Till at the dead dark hour before the dawn, +When sick men die, and scarcely fear itself +Bore up my weary eyelids, a great surge +Burst on the rock, and slowly, as it seemed, +The sea sucked downward to its depths, laid bare +The hidden reefs, and then before my eyes-- +Oh, horrible! a huge and loathsome snake +Lifted his dreadful crest and scaly side +Above the wave, in bulk and length so large, +Coil after hideous coil, that scarce the eye +Could measure its full horror; the great jaws +Dropped as with gore; the large and furious eyes +Were fired with blood and lust. Nearer he came, +And slowly, with a devilish glare, more near, +Till his hot foetor choked me, and his tongue, +Forked horribly within his poisonous jaws, +Played lightning-like around me. For awhile +I swooned, and when I knew my life again, +Death's bitterness was past. + Then with a bound +Leaped up the broad red sun above the sea, +And lit the horrid fulgour of his scales, +And struck upon the rock; and as I turned +My head in the last agony of death, +I knew a brilliant sunbeam swiftly leaping +Downward from crag to crag, and felt new hope +Where all was hopeless. On the hills a shout +Of joy, and on the rocks the ring of mail; +And while the hungry serpent's gloating eyes +Were fixed on me, a knight in casque of gold +And blazing shield, who with his flashing blade +Fell on the monster. Long the conflict raged, +Till all the rocks were red with blood and slime, +And yet my champion from those horrible jaws +And dreadful coils was scatheless. Zeus his sire +Protected, and the awful shield he bore +Withered the monster's life and left him cold, +Dragging his helpless length and grovelling crest: +And o'er his glaring eyes the films of death +Crept, and his writhing flank and hiss of hate +The great deep swallowed down, and blood and spume +Rose on the waves; and a strange wailing cry +Resounded o'er the waters, and the sea +Bellowed within its hollow-sounding caves. + + Then knew I, I was saved, and with me all +The people. From my wrists he loosed the gyves, +My hero; and within his godlike arms +Bore me by slippery rock and difficult path, +To where my mother prayed. There was no need +To ask my love. Without a spoken word +Love lit his fires within me. My young heart +Went forth, Love calling, and I gave him all. + + Dost thou then wonder that the memory +Of this supreme brief moment lingers still, +While all the happy uneventful years +Of wedded life, and all the fair young growth +Of offspring, and the tranquil later joys, +Nay, even the fierce eventful fight which raged +When we were wedded, fade and are deceased, +Lost in the irrecoverable past? +Nay, 'tis not strange. Always the memory +Of overwhelming perils or great joys, +Avoided or enjoyed, writes its own trace +With such deep characters upon our lives, +That all the rest are blotted. In this place, +Where is not action, thought, or count of time, +It is not weary as it were on earth, +To dwell on these old memories. Time is born +Of dawns and sunsets, days that wax and wane +And stamp themselves upon the yielding face +Of fleeting human life; but here there is +Morning nor evening, act nor suffering, +But only one unchanging Present holds +Our being suspended. One blest day indeed, +Or centuries ago or yesterday, +There came among us one who was Divine, +Not as our gods, joyous and breathing strength +And careless life, but crowned with a new crown +Of suffering, and a great light came with him, +And with him he brought Time and a new sense +Of dim, long-vanished years; and since he passed +I seem to see new meaning in my fate, +And all the deeds I tell of. Evermore +The young life comes, bound to the cruel rocks +Alone. Before it the unfathomed sea +Smiles, filled with monstrous growths that wait to take +Its innocence. Far off the voice and hand +Of love kneel by in agony, and entreat +The seeming careless gods. Still when the deep +Is smoothest, lo, the deadly fangs and coils +Lurk near, to smite with death. And o'er the crags +Of duty, like a sudden sunbeam, springs +Some golden soul half mortal, half divine, +Heaven-sent, and breaks the chain; and evermore +For sacrifice they die, through sacrifice +They live, and are for others, and no grief +Which smites the humblest but reverberates +Thro' all the close-set files of life, and takes +The princely soul that from its royal towers +Looks down and sees the sorrow. + Sir, farewell! +If thou shouldst meet my children on the earth +Or here, for maybe it is long ago +Since I and they were living, say to them +I only muse a little here, and wait +The waking." + And her lifted arms sank down +Upon her knees, and as I passed I saw her +Gazing with soft rapt eyes, and on her lips +A smile as of a saint. + + + + + And then I saw +A manly hunter pace along the lea, +His bow upon his shoulder, and his spear +Poised idly in his hand: the face and form +Of vigorous youth; but in the full brown eyes +A timorous gaze as of a hunted hart, +Brute-like, yet human still, even as the Faun +Of old, the dumb brute passing into man, +And dowered with double nature. As he came +I seemed to question of his fate, and he +Answered me thus: + "'Twas one hot afternoon +That I, a hunter, wearied with my day, +Heard my hounds baying fainter on the hills, +Led by the flying hart; and when the sound +Faded and all was still, I turned to seek, +O'ercome by heat and thirst, a little glade, +Beloved of old, where, in the shadowy wood, +The clear cold crystal of a mossy pool +Lipped the soft emerald marge, and gave again +The flower-starred lawn where ofttimes overspent +I lay upon the grass and careless bathed +My limbs in the sweet lymph. + But as I neared +The hollow, sudden through the leaves I saw +A throng of wood-nymphs fair, sporting undraped +Round one, a goddess. She with timid hand +Loosened her zone, and glancing round let fall +Her robe from neck and bosom, pure and bright, +(For it was Dian's self I saw, none else) +As when she frees her from a fleece of cloud +And swims along the deep blue sea of heaven +On sweet June nights. Silent awhile I stood, +Rooted with awe, and fain had turned to fly, +But feared by careless footstep to affright +Those chaste cold eyes. Great awe and reverence +Held me, and fear; then Love with passing wing +Fanned me, and held my eyes, and checked my breath, +Signing 'Beware!' + So for a time I watched, +Breathless as one a brooding nightmare holds, +Who fleeth some great fear, yet fleeth not; +Till the last flutter of lawn, and veil no more +Obscured, and all the beauty of my dreams +Assailed my sense. But ere I raised my eyes, +As one who fain would look and see the sun, +The first glance dazed my brain. Only I knew +The perfect outline flow in tender curves, +To break in doubled charms; only a haze +Of creamy white, dimple, and deep divine: +And then no more. For lo! a sudden chill, +And such thick mist as shuts the hills at eve, +Oppressed me gazing; and a heaven-sent shame, +An awe, a fear, a reverence for the unknown, +Froze all the springs of will and left me cold, +And blinded all the longings of my eyes, +Leaving such dim reflection still as mocks +Him who has looked on a great light, and keeps +On his closed eyes the image. Presently, +My fainting soul, safe hidden for awhile +Deep in Life's mystic shades, renewed herself, +And straight, the innocent brute within the man +Bore on me, and with half-averted eye +I gazed upon the secret. + As I looked, +A radiance, white as beamed the frosty moon +On the mad boy and slew him, beamed on me; +Made chill my pulses, checked my life and heat; +Transformed me, withered all my soul, and left +My being burnt out. For lo! the dreadful eyes +Of Godhead met my gaze, and through the mask +And thick disguise of sense, as through a wood, +Pierced to my life. Then suddenly I knew +An altered nature, touched by no desire +For that which showed so lovely, but declined +To lower levels. Nought of fear or awe, +Nothing of love was mine. Wide-eyed I gazed, +But saw no spiritual beam to blight +My brain with too much beauty, no undraped +And awful majesty; only a brute, +Dumb charm, like that which draws the brute to it, +Unknowing it is drawn. So gradually +I knew a dull content o'ercloud my sense, +And unabashed I gazed, like that dumb bird +Which thinks no thought and speaks no word, yet fronts +The sun that blinded Homer--all my fear +Sunk with my shame, in a base happiness. + + But as I gazed, and careless turned and passed +Through the thick wood, forgetting what had been, +And thinking thoughts no longer, swift there came +A mortal terror: voices that I knew, +My own hounds' bayings that I loved before, +As with them often o'er the purple hills +I chased the flying hart from slope to slope, +Before the slow sun climbed the Eastern peaks, +Until the swift sun smote the Western plain; +Whom often I had cheered by voice and glance, +Whom often I had checked with hand and thong +Grim followers, like the passions, firing me, +True servants, like the strong nerves, urging me +On many a fruitless chase, to find and take +Some too swift-fleeting beauty; faithful feet +And tongues, obedient always: these I knew, +Clothed with a new-born force and vaster grown, +And stronger than their master; and I thought, +What if they tare me with their jaws, nor knew +That once I ruled them,--brute pursuing brute, +And I the quarry? Then I turned and fled,-- +If it was I indeed that feared and fled-- +Down the long glades, and through the tangled brakes, +Where scarce the sunlight pierced; fled on and on, +And panted, self-pursued. But evermore +The dissonant music which I knew so sweet, +When by the windy hills, the echoing vales, +And whispering pines it rang, now far, now near, +As from my rushing steed I leant and cheered +With voice and horn the chase--this brought to me +Fear of I knew not what, which bade me fly, +Fly always, fly; but when my heart stood still, +And all my limbs were stiffened as I fled, +Just as the white moon ghost-like climbed the sky, +Nearer they came and nearer, baying loud, +With bloodshot eyes and red jaws dripping foam; +And when I strove to check their savagery, +Speaking with words; no voice articulate came, +Only a dumb, low bleat. Then all the throng +Leapt swift on me, and tare me as I lay, +And left me man again. + Wherefore I walk +Along these dim fields peopled with the ghosts +Of heroes who have left the ways of earth +For this faint ghost of them. Sometimes I think, +Pondering on what has been, that all my days +Were shadows, all my life an allegory; +And, though I know sometimes some fainter gleam +Of the old beauty move me, and sometimes +Some beat of the old pulses; that my fate, +For ever hurrying on in hot pursuit, +To fall at length self-slain, was but a tale +Writ large by Zeus upon a mortal life, +Writ large, and yet a riddle. For sometimes +I read its meaning thus: Life is a chase, +And Man the hunter, always following on, +With hounds of rushing thought or fiery sense, +Some hidden truth or beauty, fleeting still +For ever through the thick-leaved coverts deep +And wind-worn wolds of time. And if he turn +A moment from the hot pursuit to seize +Some chance-brought sweetness, other than the search +To which his soul is set,--some dalliance, +Some outward shape of Art, some lower love, +Some charm of wealth and sleek content and home,-- +Then, if he check an instant, the swift chase +Of fierce untempered energies which pursue, +With jaws unsated and a thirst for act, +Bears down on him with clanging shock, and whelms +His prize and him in ruin. + And sometimes +I seem to myself a thinker, who at last, +Amid the chase and capture of low ends, +Pausing by some cold well of hidden thought +Comes on some perfect truth, and looks and looks +Till the fair vision blinds him. And the sum +Of all his lower self pursuing him, +The strong brute forces, the unchecked desires, +Finding him bound and speechless, deem him now +No more their master, but some soulless thing; +And leap on him, and seize him, and possess +His life, till through death's gate he pass to life, +And, his own ghost, revives. But looks no more +Upon the truth unveiled, save through a cloud +Of creed and faith and longing, which shall change +One day to perfect knowledge. + But whoe'er +Shall read the riddle of my life, I walk +In this dim land amid dim ghosts of kings, +As one day thou shalt; meantime, fare thou well." + + Then passed he; and I marked him slowly go +Along the winding ways of that weird land, +And vanish in a wood. + + + + + And next I knew +A woman perfect as a young man's dream, +And breathing as it seemed the old sweet air +Of the fair days of old, when man was young +And life an Epic. Round the lips a smile +Subtle and deep and sweet as hers who looks +From the old painter's canvas, and derides +Life and the riddle of things, the aimless strife, +The folly of Love, as who has proved it all, +Enjoyed and suffered. In the lovely eyes +A weary look, no other than the gaze +Which ofttimes as the rapid chariot whirls, +And ofttimes by the glaring midnight streets, +Gleams out and chills our thought. And yet not guilt +Nor sorrow was it; only weariness, +No more, and still most lovely. As I named +Her name in haste, she looked with half surprise, +And thus she seemed to speak: + "What? Dost thou know +Thou too, the fatal glances which beguiled +Those strong rude chiefs of old? Has not the gloom +Of this dim land withdrawn from out mine eyes +The glamour which once filled them? Does my cheek +Retain the round of youth and still defy +The wear of immemorial centuries? +And this low voice, long silent, keeps it still +The music of old time? Aye, in thine eyes +I read it, and within thine eyes I see +Thou knowest me, and the story of my life +Sung by the blind old bard when I was dead, +And all my lovers dust. I know thee not, +Thee nor thy gods, yet would I soothly swear +I was not all to blame for what has been, +The long fight, the swift death, the woes, the tears +The brave lives spent, the humble homes uptorn +To gain one poor fair face. It was not I +That curved these lips into this subtle smile, +Or gave these eyes their fire, nor yet made round +This supple frame. It was not I, but Love, +Love mirroring himself in all things fair, +Love that projects himself upon a life, +And dotes on his own image. + Ah! the days, +The weary years of Love and feasts and gold, +The hurried flights, the din of clattering hoofs +At midnight, when the heroes dared for me, +And bore me o'er the hills; the swift pursuits +Baffled and lost; or when from isle to isle +The high-oared galley spread its wings and rose +Over the swelling surges, and I saw, +Time after time, the scarce familiar town, +The sharp-cut hills, the well-loved palaces, +The gleaming temples fade, and all for me, +Me the dead prize, the shell, the soulless ghost, +The husk of a true woman; the fond words +Wasted on careless ears, that seemed to hear, +Of love to me unloving; the rich feasts, +The silken dalliance and soft luxury, +The fair observance and high reverence +For me who cared not, to whatever land +My kingly lover snatched me. I have known +How small a fence Love sets between the king +And the strong hind, who breeds his brood, and dies +Upon the field he tills. I have exchanged +People for people, crown for glittering crown, +Through every change a queen, and held my state +Hateful, and sickened in my soul to lie +Stretched on soft cushions to the lutes' low sound, +While on the wasted fields the clang of arms +Rang, and the foemen perished, and swift death, +Hunger, and plague, and every phase of woe +Vexed all the land for me. I have heard the curse +Unspoken, when the wife widowed for me +Clasped to her heart her orphans starved for me; +As I swept proudly by. I have prayed the gods, +Hating my own fair face which wrought such woe, +Some plague divine might light on it and leave +My curse a ruin. Yet I think indeed +They had not cursed but pitied, those true wives +Who mourned their humble lords, and straining felt +The innocent thrill which swells the mother's heart +Who clasps her growing boy; had they but known +The lifeless life, the pain of hypocrite smiles, +The dead load of caresses simulated, +When Love stands shuddering by to see his fires +Lit for the shrine of gold. What if they felt +The weariness of loveless love which grew +And through the jealous palace portals seized +The caged unloving woman, sick of toys, +Sick of her gilded chains, her ease, herself, +Till for sheer weariness she flew to meet +Some new unloved seducer? What if they knew +No childish loving hands, or worse than all, +Had borne them sullen to a sire unloved, +And left them without pain? I might have been, +I too, a loving mother and chaste wife, +Had Fate so willed. + For I remember well +How one day straying from my father's halls +Seeking anemones and violets, +A girl in Spring-time, when the heart makes Spring +Within the budding bosom, that I came +Of a sudden through a wood upon a bay, +A little sunny land-locked bay, whose banks +Sloped gently downward to the yellow sand, +Where the blue wave creamed soft with fairy foam, +And oft the Nereids sported. As I strayed +Singing, with fresh-pulled violets in my hair +And bosom, and my hands were full of flowers, +I came upon a little milk-white lamb, +And took it in my arms and fondled it, +And wreathed its neck with flowers, and sang to it +And kissed it, and the Spring was in my life, +And I was glad. + And when I raised my eyes +Behold, a youthful shepherd with his crook +Stood by me and regarded as I lay, +Tall, fair, with clustering curls, and front that wore +A budding manhood. As I looked a fear +Came o'er me, lest he were some youthful god +Disguised in shape of man, so fair he was; +But when he spoke, the kindly face was full +Of manhood, and the large eyes full of fire +Drew me without a word, and all the flowers +Fell from me, and the little milk-white lamb +Strayed through the brake, and took with it the white +Fair years of childhood. Time fulfilled my being +With passion like a cup, and with one kiss +Left me a woman. + Ah! the lovely days, +When on the warm bank crowned with flowers we sate +And thought no harm, and his thin reed pipe made +Low music, and no witness of our love +Intruded, but the tinkle of the flock +Came from the hill, and 'neath the odorous shade +We dreamed away the day, and watched the waves +Steal shoreward, and beyond the sylvan capes +The innumerable laughter of the sea! + +Ah youth and love! So passed the happy days +Till twilight, and I stole as in a dream +Homeward, and lived as in a happy dream, +And when they spoke answered as in a dream, +And through the darkness saw, as in a glass, +The happy, happy day, and thrilled and glowed +And kept my love in sleep, and longed for dawn +And scarcely stayed for hunger, and with morn +Stole eager to the little wood, and fed +My life with kisses. Ah! the joyous days +Of innocence, when Love was Queen in heaven, +And nature unreproved! Break they then still, +Those azure circles, on a golden shore? +Smiles there no glade upon the older earth +Where spite of all, gray wisdom, and new gods, +Young lovers dream within each other's arms +Silent, by shadowy grove, or sunlit sea? + + Ah days too fair to last! There came a night +When I lay longing for my love, and knew +Sudden the clang of hoofs, the broken doors. +The clash of swords, the shouts, the groans, the stain +Of red upon the marble, the fixed gaze +Of dead and dying eyes,--that was the time +When first I looked on death,--and when I woke +From my deep swoon, I felt the night air cool +Upon my brow, and the cold stars look down, +As swift we galloped o'er the darkling plain; +And saw the chill sea glimpses slowly wake, +With arms unknown around me. When the dawn +Broke swift, we panted on the pathless steeps, +And so by plain and mountain till we came +To Athens, where they kept me till I grew +Fairer with every year, and many wooed, +Heroes and chieftains, but I loved not one. + + And then the avengers came and snatched me back +To Sparta. All the dark high-crested chiefs +Of Argos wooed me, striving king with king +For one fair foolish face, nor knew I kept +No heart to give them. Yet since I was grown +Weary of honeyed words and suit of love, +I wedded a brave chief, dauntless and true. +But what cared I? I could not prize at all +His honest service. I had grown so tired +Of loving and of love, that when they brought +News that the fairest shepherd on the hills, +Having done himself to death for his lost love, +Lay, like a lovely statue, cold and white +Upon the golden sand, I hardly knew +More than a passing pang. Love, like a flower, +Love, springing up too tall in a young breast, +The growth of morning, Life's too scorching sun +Had withered long ere noon. Love, like a flame +On his own altar offering up my heart, +Had burnt my being to ashes. + Was it love +That drew me then to Paris? He was fair, +I grant you, fairer than a summer morn, +Fair with a woman's fairness, yet in arms +A hero, but he never had my heart, +Not love for him allured me, but the thirst +For freedom, if in more than thought I erred, +And was not rapt but willing. For my child, +Born to an unloved father, loved me not, +The fresh sea called, the galleys plunged, and I +Fled willing from my prison and the pain +Of undesired caresses, and the wind +Was fair, and on the third day as we sailed, +My heart was glad within me when I saw +The towers of Ilium rise beyond the wave. + + Ah, the long years, the melancholy years, +The miserable melancholy years! +For soon the new grew old, and then I grew +Weary of him, of all, of pomp and state +And novel splendour. Yet at times I knew +Some thrill of pride within me as I saw +From those high walls, a prisoner and a foe, +The swift ships flock at anchor in the bay, +The hasty landing and the flash of arms, +The lines of royal tents upon the plain, +The close-shut gates, the chivalry within +Issuing in all its pride to meet the shock +Of the bold chiefs without; so year by year +The haughty challenge from the warring hosts +Rang forth, and I with a divided heart +Saw victory incline, now here, now there, +And helpless marked the Argive chiefs I knew, +The spouse I left, the princely loves of old, +Now with each other strive, and now with Troy: +The brave pomp of the morn, the fair strong limbs, +The glittering panoply, the bold young hearts, +Athirst for fame of war, and with the night +The broken spear, the shattered helm, the plume +Dyed red with blood, the ghastly dying face, +And nerveless limbs laid lifeless. And I knew +The stainless Hector whom I could have loved, +But that a happy love made blind his eyes +To all my baleful beauty; fallen and dragged +His noble, manly head upon the sand +By young Achilles' chariot; him in turn +Fallen and slain; my fair false Paris slain; +Plague, famine, battle, raging now within, +And now without, for many a weary year, +Summer and winter, till I loathed to live, +Who was indeed, as well they said, the Hell +Of men, and fleets, and cities. As I stood +Upon the walls, ofttimes a longing came, +Looking on rage, and fight, and blood, and death, +To end it all, and dash me down and die; +But no god helped me. Nay, one day I mind +I would entreat them. 'Pray you, lords, be men. +What fatal charm is this which Ate gives +To one poor foolish face? Be strong, and turn +In peace, forget this glamour, get you home +With all your fleets and armies, to the land +I love no longer, where your faithful wives +Pine widowed of their lords, and your young boys +Grow wild to manhood. I have nought to give, +No heart, nor prize of love for any man, +Nor recompense. I am the ghost alone +Of the fair girl ye knew; she still abides, +If she still lives and is not wholly dead, +Stretched on a flowery bank upon the sea +In fair heroic Argos. Leave this form +That is no other than the outward shell +Of a once loving woman.' + As I spake, +My pity fired my eyes and flushed my cheek +With some soft charm; and as I spread my hands, +The purple, glancing down a little, left +The marble of my breasts and one pink bud +Upon the gleaming snows. And as I looked +With a mixed pride and terror, I beheld +The brute rise up within them, and my words +Fall barren on them. So I sat apart, +Nor ever more looked forth, while every day +Brought its own woe. + The melancholy years, +The miserable melancholy years, +Crept onward till the midnight terror came, +And by the glare of burning streets I saw +Palace and temple reel in ruin and fall, +And the long-baffled legions, bursting in +By gate and bastion, blunted sword and spear +With unresisted slaughter. From my tower +I saw the good old king; his kindly eyes +In agony, and all his reverend hairs +Dabbled with blood, as the fierce foeman thrust +And stabbed him as he lay; the youths, the girls, +Whom day by day I knew, their silken ease +And royal luxury changed for blood and tears, +Haled forth to death or worse. Then a great hate +Of life and fate seized on me, and I rose +And rushed among them, crying, 'See, 'tis I, +I who have brought this evil! Kill me! kill +The fury that is I, yet is not I! +And let my soul go outward through the wound +Made clean by blood to Hades! Let me die, +Not these who did no wrong!' But not a hand +Was raised, and all shrank backward as afraid, +As from a goddess. Then I swooned and fell +And knew no more, and when I woke I felt +My husband's arms around me, and the wind +Blew fair for Greece, and the beaked galley plunged; +And where the towers of Ilium rose of old, +A pall of smoke above a glare of fire. + + What then in the near future? + Ten long years +Bring youth and love to that deep summer-tide +When the full noisy current of our lives +Creeps dumb through wealth of flowers. I think I knew +Somewhat of peace at last, with my good Lord +Who loved too much, to palter with the past, +Flushed with the present. Young Hermione +Had grown from child to woman. She was wed; +And was not I her mother? At the pomp +Of solemn nuptials and requited love, +I prayed she might be happy, happier far +Than ever I was; so in tranquil ease +I lived a queen long time, and because wealth +And high observance can make sweet our days +When youth's swift joy is past, I did requite +With what I might, not love, the kindly care +Of him I loved not; pomps and robes of price +And chariots held me. But when Fate cut short +His life and love, his sons who were not mine +Reigned in his stead, and hated me and mine: +And knowing I was friendless, I sailed forth +Once more across the sea, seeking for rest +And shelter. Still I knew that in my eyes +Love dwelt, and all the baleful charm of old +Burned as of yore, scarce dimmed as yet by time: +I saw it in the mirror of the sea, +I saw it in the youthful seamen's eyes, +And was half proud again I had such power +Who now kept nothing else. So one calm eve, +Behold, a sweet fair isle blushed like a rose +Upon the summer sea: there my swift ship +Cast anchor, and they told me it was Rhodes. + + There, in a little wood above the sea, +Like that dear wood of yore, I wandered forth +Forlorn, and all my seamen were apart, +And I, alone; when at the close of day +I knew myself surrounded by strange churls +With angry eyes, and one who ordered them, +A woman, whom I knew not, but who walked +In mien and garb a queen. She, with the fire +Of hate within her eyes, 'Quick, bind her, men! +I know her; bind her fast!' Then to the trunk +Of a tall plane they bound me with rude cords +That cut my arms. And meantime, far below, +The sun was gilding fair with dying rays +Isle after isle and purple wastes of sea. + + And then she signed to them, and all withdrew +Among the woods and left us, face to face, +Two women. Ere I spoke, 'I know,' she said, +'I know that evil fairness. This it was, +Or ever he had come across my life, +That made him cold to me, who had my love +And left me half a heart. If all my life +Of wedlock was but half a life, what fiend +Came 'twixt my love and me, but that fair face? +What left his children orphans, but that face? +And me a widow? Fiend! I have thee now; +Thou hast not long to live. I will requite +Thy murders; yet, oh fiend! that art so fair, +Were it not haply better to deface +Thy fatal loveliness, and leave thee bare +Of all thy baleful power? And yet I doubt, +And looking on thy face I doubt the more, +Lest all thy dower of fairness be the gift +Of Aphrodite, and I fear to fight +Against the immortal Gods.' + + Even with the word, +And she relenting, all the riddle of life +Flashed through me, and the inextricable coil +Of Being, and the immeasurable depths +And irony of Fate, burst on my thought +And left me smiling in the eyes of death, +With this deep smile thou seest. Then with a shriek +The woman leapt on me, and with blind rage +Strangled my life. And when she had done the deed +She swooned, and those her followers hasting back +Fell prone upon their knees before the corpse +As to a goddess. Then one went and brought +A sculptor, and within a jewelled shrine +They set me in white marble, bound to a tree +Of marble. And they came and knelt to me, +Young men and maidens, through the secular years, +While the old gods bore sway, but I was here, +And now they kneel no longer, for the world +Has gone from beauty. + But I think, indeed, +They well might worship still, for never yet +Was any thought or thing of beauty born +Except with suffering. That poor wretch who thought +I injured her, stealing the foolish heart +Which she prized but I could not, what knew she +Of that I suffered? She had loved her love, +Though unrequited, and had borne to him +Children who loved her. What if she had been +Loved yet unloving: all the fire of love +Burnt out before love's time in one brief blaze +Of passion. Ah, poor fool! I pity her, +Being blest and yet unthankful, and forgive, +Now that she is a ghost as I, the hand +Which loosed my load of life. For scarce indeed +Could any god who cares for mortal men +Have ever kept me happy. I had tired +Of simple loving, doubtless, as I tired +Of splendour and being loved. There be some souls +For which love is enough, content to bear +From youth to age, from chesnut locks to gray, +The load of common, uneventful life +And penury. But I was not of these; +I know not now, if it were best indeed +That I had reared my simple shepherd brood, +And lived and died unknown in some poor hut +Among the Argive hills; or lived a queen +As I did, knowing every day that dawned +Some high emprise and glorious, and in death +To fill the world with song. Not the same meed +The gods mete out for all, or She, the dread +Necessity, who rules both gods and men, +Some to dishonour, some to honour moulds, +To happiness some, some to unhappiness. +We are what Zeus has made us, discords playing +In the great music, but the harmony +Is sweeter for them, and the great spheres ring +In one accordant hymn. + But thou, if e'er +There come a daughter of thy love, oh pray +To all thy gods, lest haply they should mar +Her life with too great beauty!" + So she ceased. +The fairest woman that the poet's dream +Or artist hand has fashioned. All the gloom +Seemed lightened round her, and I heard the sound +Of her melodious voice when all was still, +And the dim twilight took her. + + + + + Next there came +Two who together walked: one with a lyre +Of gold, which gave no sound; the other hung +Upon his breast, and closely clung to him, +Spent in a tender longing. As they came, +I heard her gentle voice recounting o'er +Some ancient tale, and these the words she said: + + "Dear voice and lyre now silent, which I heard +Across yon sullen river, bringing to me +All my old life, and he, the ferryman, +Heard and obeyed, and the grim monster heard +And fawned on you. Joyous thou cam'st and free +Like a white sunbeam from the dear bright earth, +Where suns shone clear, and moons beamed bright, and streams +Laughed with a rippling music,--nor as here +The dumb stream stole, the veiled sky slept, the fields +Were lost in twilight. Like a morning breeze, +Which blows in summer from the gates of dawn +Across the fields of spice, and wakes to life +Their slumbering perfume, through this silent land +Of whispering voices and of half-closed eyes, +Where scarce a footstep sounds, nor any strain +Of earthly song, thou cam'st; and suddenly +The pale cheeks flushed a little, the murmured words +Rose to a faint, thin treble; the throng of ghosts +Pacing along the sunless ways and still, +Felt a new life. Thou camest, dear, and straight +The dull cold river broke in sparkling foam, +The pale and scentless flowers grew perfumed; last +To the dim chamber, where with the sad queen +I sat in gloom, and silently inwove +Dead wreaths of amaranths; thy music came +Laden with life, and I, who seemed to know +Not life's voice only, but my own, rose up, +Along the hollow pathways following +The sound which brought back earth and life and love, +And memory and longing. Yet I went +With half-reluctant footsteps, as of one +Whom passion draws, or some high fantasy, +Despite himself, because some subtle spell, +Part born of dread to cross that sullen stream +And its grim guardians, part of secret shame +Of the young airs and freshness of the earth, +Being that I was, enchained me. + Then at last, +From voice and lyre so high a strain arose +As trembled on the utter verge of being, +And thrilling, poured out life. Thus closelier drawn +I walked with thee, shut in by halcyon sound +And soft environments of harmony, +Beyond the ghostly gates, beyond the dim +Calm fields, where the beetle hummed and the pale owl +Stole noiseless from the copse, and the white blooms +Stretched thin for lack of sun: so fair a light +Born out of consonant sound environed me. +Nor looked I backward, as we seemed to move +To some high goal of thought and life and love, +Like twin birds flying fast with equal wing +Out of the night, to meet the coming sun +Above a sea. But on thy dear fair eyes, +The eyes that well I knew on the old earth, +I looked not, for with still averted gaze +Thou leddest, and I followed; for, indeed, +While that high strain was sounding, I was rapt +In faith and a high courage, driving out +All doubt and discontent and womanish fear, +Nay, even my love itself. But when awhile +It sank a little, or seemed to sink and fall +To lower levels, seeing that use makes blunt +The too accustomed ear, straightway, desire +To look once more on thy recovered eyes +Seized me, and oft I called with piteous voice, +Beseeching thee to turn. But thou long time +Wert even as one unmindful, with grave sign +And waving hand, denying. Finally, +When now we neared the stream, on whose far shore +Lay life, great terror took me, and I shrieked +Thy name, as in despair. Then thou, as one +Who knows him set in some great jeopardy, +A swift death fronting him on either hand, +Didst slowly turning gaze; and lo! I saw +Thine eyes grown awful, life that looked on death, +Clear purity on dark and cankered sin, +The immortal on corruption,--not the eyes +That erst I knew in life, but dreadfuller, +And stranger. As I looked, I seemed to swoon, +Some blind force whirled me back, and when I woke +I saw thee vanish in the middle stream, +A speck on the dull waters, taking with thee +My life, and leaving Love with me. But I +Not for myself bewail, but all for thee, +Who, but for me, wert now among the stars +With thy great Lord; I sitting at thy feet: +But now the fierce and unrestrained rout +Of passions woman-natured, finding thee +Scornful of love within thy lonely cell, +With blind rage falling on thee, tore thy limbs, +And left them to the Muses' sepulture, +While thy soul dwells in Hades. But I wail +My weakness always, who for Love destroyed +The life that was my Love. I prithee, dear, +Forgive me if thou canst, who hast lost heaven +To save a loving woman." + He with voice +Sweeter than any mortal melody, +And plaintive as the music that is made +By the AEolian strings, or the sad bird +That sings of summer nights: + "Eurydice, +Dear love, be comforted; not once alone +That which thou mournest is, but day by day +Some lonely soul, which walks apart and feeds +On high hill pastures, far from herds of men, +Comes to the low fat fields, and sunny vales +Joyous with fruits and flowers, and the white arms +Of laughing love; and there awhile he stays +Content, forgetting all the joys he knew, +When first the morning broke upon the hills, +And the keen air breathed from the Eastern gates +Like a pure draught of wine; forgetting all +The strains which float, as from a nearer heaven, +To him who treads at dawn the untrodden snows, +While all the warm world sleeps;--forgetting these +And all things that have been. And if he gain +To raise to his own heights the simpler souls +That dwell upon the plains, the untutored thought, +The museless lives, the unawakened brain +That yet might soar, then is he blest indeed. +But if he fail, then, leaving love behind, +The wider love of the race, the closer love +Of some congenial soul, he turns again +To the old difficult steeps, and there alone +Pines, till the widowed passions of his heart +Tear him and rend his soul, and drive him down +To the low plains he left. And there he dwells, +Missing the heavens, dear, and the white peaks, +And the light air of old; but in their stead +Finding the soft sweet sun of the vale, the clouds +Which veil the skies indeed, but give the rains +That feed the streams of life and make earth green, +And bring at last the harvest. So I walk +In this dim land content with thee, O Love, +Untouched by any yearning of regret +For those old days; nor that the lyre which made +Erewhile such potent music now is dumb; +Nor that the voice that once could move the earth +(Zeus speaking through it), speaks in household words +Of homely love: Love is enough for me +With thee, O dearest; and perchance at last, +Zeus willing, this dumb lyre and whispered voice +Shall wake, by Love inspired, to such clear note +As soars above the stars, and swelling, lifts +Our souls to highest heaven." + Then he stooped, +And, folded in one long embrace, they went +And faded. And I cried, "Oh, strong God, Love, +Mightier than Death and Hell!" + + + And then I chanced +On a fair woman, whose sad eyes were full +Of a fixed self-reproach, like his who knows +Himself the fountain of his grief, and pines +In self-inflicted sorrow. As I spake +Enquiring of her grief, she answered thus: + + "Stranger, thou seest of all the shades below +The most unhappy. Others sought their love +In death, and found it, dying; but for me +The death that took me, took from me my love, +And left me comfortless. No load I bear +Like those dark wicked women, who have slain +Their Lords for lust or anger, whom the dread +Propitious Ones within the pit below +Punish and purge of sin; only unfaith, +If haply want of faith be not a crime +Blacker than murder, when we fail to trust +One worthy of all faith, and folly bring +No harder recompense than comes of scorn +And loathing of itself. + Ah, fool, fool, fool, +Who didst mistrust thy love, who was the best, +And truest, manliest soul with whom the gods +Have ever blest the earth; so brave, so strong, +Fired with such burning hate of powerful ill, +So loving of the race, so swift to raise +The fearless arm and mighty club, and smite +All monstrous growths with ruin--Zeus himself +Showed scarce more mighty--and yet was the while +A very man, not cast in mould too fine +For human love, but ofttimes snared and caught +By womanish wiles, fast held within the net +His passions wove. Oh, it was grand to hear +Of how he went, the champion of his race, +Mighty in war, mighty in love, now bent +To more than human tasks, now lapt in ease, +Now suffering, now enjoying. Strong, vast soul, +Tuned to heroic deeds, and set on high +Above the range of common petty sins-- +Too high to mate with an unequal soul, +Too full of striving for contented days. + + Ah me, how well I do recall the cause +Of all our ills! I was a happy bride +When that dark Ate which pursues the steps +Of heroes--innocent blood-guiltiness-- +Drove us to exile, and I joyed to be +His own, and share his pain. To a swift stream +Fleeing we came, where a rough ferryman +Waited, more brute than man. My hero plunged +In those fierce depths and battled with their flow, +And with great labour gained the strand, and bade +The monster row me to him. But with lust +And brutal cunning in his eyes, the thing +Seized me and turned to fly with me, when swift +An arrow hissed from the unerring bow, +Pierced him, and loosed his grasp. Then as his eyes +Grew glazed in death there came in them a gleam +Of what I know was hate, and he said, 'Take +This white robe. It is costly. See, my blood +Has stained it but a little. I did wrong: +I know it, and repent me. If there come +A time when he grows cold--for all the race +Of heroes wander, nor can any love +Fix theirs for long--take it and wrap him in it, +And he shall love again.' Then, from the strange +Deep look within his eyes I shrank in fear, +And left him half in pity, and I went +To meet my Lord, who rose from that fierce stream +Fair as a god. + Ah me, the weary days +We women live, spending our anxious souls, +Consumed with jealous fancies, hungering still +For the beloved voice and ear and eye, +And hungering all in vain! For life is more +To youthful manhood than to sit at home +Before the hearth to watch the children's ways +And lead the life of petty household care +Which doth content us women. Day by day +I pined in Trachis for my love, while he, +Now in some warlike exploit busied, now +Fighting some monster, now at some fair court, +Resting awhile till some new enterprise +Called him, returned not. News of treacheries +Avenged, friends succoured, dreadful monsters slain, +Came from him: always triumph, always fame, +And honour, and success, and reverence, +And sometimes, words of love for me who pined +For more than words, and would have gone to him +But that the toils of such high errantry +Asked more than woman's strength. + So the slow years +Vexed me alone in Trachis, set forlorn +In solitude, nor hearing at the gate +The frank and cheering voice, nor on the stair +The heavy tread, nor feeling the strong arm +Around me in the darkling night, when all +My being ran slow. Last, subtle whispers came +Of womanish wiles which kept my Lord from me, +And one who, young and fair, a fresh-blown life +And virgin, younger, fairer far than I +When first he loved me, held him in the toils +Of scarce dissembled love. Not easily +Might I believe this evil, but at last +The oft-repeated malice finding me +Forlorn, and sitting imp-like at my ear, +Possessed me, and the fire of jealous love +Raged through my veins, not turned as yet to hate-- +Too well I loved for that--but breeding in me +Unfaith in him. Love, setting him so high +And self so low, betrayed me, and I prayed, +Constrained to hold him false, the immortal gods +To make him love again. + But still he came not. +And still the maddening rumours worked, and still +'Fair, young, and a king's daughter,' the same words +Smote me and pierced me. Oh, there is no pain +In Hades--nay, nor deepest Hell itself, +Like that of jealous hearts, the torture-pain +Which racked my life so long. + Till one fair morn +There came a joyful message. 'He has come! +And at the shrine upon the promontory, +The fair white shrine upon the purple sea, +He waits to do his solemn sacrifice +To the immortal gods; and with him comes +A young maid beautiful as Dawn.' + Then I, +Mingling despair with love, rapt in deep joy +That he was come, plunged in the depths of hell +That she came too, bethought me of the robe +The Centaur gave me, and the words he spake, +Forgetting the deep hatred in his eyes, +And all but love, and sent a messenger +Bidding him wear it for the sacrifice +To the immortals, knowing not at all +Whom Fate decreed the victim. + Shall my soul +Forget the agonized message which he sent, +Bidding me come? For that accursed robe, +Stained with the poisonous accursed blood, +Even in the midmost flush of sacrifice +Clung to him a devouring fire, and ate +The piteous flesh from his dear limbs, and stung +His great soft soul to madness. When I came, +Knowing it was my work, he bent on me, +Wise as a god through suffering and the near +Inevitable Death, so that no word +Of mine was needed, such a tender look +Of mild reproach as smote me. 'Couldst not thou +Trust me, who never loved as I love thee? +What need was there of magical arts to draw +The love that never wavered? I have lived +As he lives who through perilous paths must pass, +And lifelong trials, striving to keep down +The brute within him, born of too much strength +And sloth and vacuous days; by difficult toils, +Labours endured, and hard-fought fights with ill, +Now vanquished, now triumphant; and sometimes, +In intervals of too long labour, finding +His nature grown too strong for him, falls prone +Awhile a helpless prey, then once again +Rises and spurns his chains, and fares anew +Along the perilous ways. Dearest, I would +That thou wert wedded to some knight who stayed +At home within thy gates, and were content +To see thee happy. But for me the fierce +Rude energies of life, the mighty thews, +The god-sent hate of Wrong, these drove me forth +To quench the thirst of battle. See, this maid, +This is the bride I destined for our son +Who grows to manhood. Do thou see to her +When I am dead, for soon I know again +The frenzy comes, and with it ceasing, death. +Go, therefore, ere I harm thee when my strength +Has lost its guidance. Thou wert rich in love, +Be now as rich in faith. Dear, for thy wrong +I do forgive thee.' + When I saw the glare +Of madness fire his eyes, and my ears heard +The groans the torture wrung from his great soul, +I fled with broken heart to the white shrine, +And knelt in prayer, but still my sad ear took +The agony of his cries. + Then I who knew +There was no hope in god or man for me +Who had destroyed my Love, and with him slain +The champion of the suffering race of men, +And knowing that my soul, though innocent +Of blood, was guilty of unfaith and vile +Mistrust, and wrapt in weakness like a cloak, +And made the innocent tool of hate and wrong, +Against all love and good; grown sick and filled +With hatred of myself, rose from my knees, +And went a little space apart, and found +A gnarled tree on the cliff, and with my scarf +Strangling myself, swung lifeless. + But in death +I found him not. For, building a vast pile +Of scented woods on Oeta, as they tell, +My hero with his own hand lighted it, +And when the mighty pyre flamed far and wide +Over all lands and seas, he climbed on it +And laid him down to die; but pitying Zeus, +Before the swift flames reached him, in a cloud +Descending, snatched the strong brave soul to heaven, +And set him mid the stars. + Wherefore am I +Of all the blameless shades within this place +The most unhappy, if of blame, indeed, +I bear no load. For what is Sin itself, +But Error when we miss the road which leads +Up to the gate of heaven? Ignorance! +What if we be the cause of ignorance? +Being blind who might have seen! Yet do I know +But self-inflicted pain, nor stain there is +Upon my soul such as they bear who know +The dreadful scourge with which the stern judge still +Lashes their sins. I am forgiven, I know, +Who loved so much, and one day, if Zeus will, +I shall go free from hence, and join my Lord, +And be with him again." + And straight I seemed, +Passing, to look upon some scarce-spent life, +Which knows to-day the irony of Fate +In self-inflicted pain. + + + + + Together clung +The ghosts whom next I saw, bound three in one +By some invisible bond. A sire of port +God-like as Zeus, to whom on either hand +A tender stripling clung. I knew them well, +As all men know them. One fair youth spake low: +"Father, it does not pain me now, to be +Drawn close to thee, and by a double bond, +With this my brother." And the other: "Nay, +Nor me, O father; but I bless the chain +Which binds our souls in union. If some trace +Of pain still linger, heed it not--'tis past: +Still let us cling to thee." + He with grave eyes +Full of great tenderness, upon his sons +Looked with the father's gaze, that is so far +More sweet, and sad, and tender, than the gaze +Of mothers,--now on this one, now on that, +Regarding them. "Dear sons, whom on the earth +I loved and cherished, it was hard to watch +Your pain; but now 'tis finished, and we stand +For ever, through all future days of time, +Symbols of patient suffering undeserved, +Endured and vanquished. Yet sad memory still +Brings back our time of trial. + For the day +Broke fair when I, the dread Poseidon's priest, +Joyous because the unholy strife was done, +And seeing the blue waters now left free +Of hostile keels--save where upon the verge +Far off the white sails faded--rose at dawn, +And white robed, and in garb of sacrifice, +And with the sacred fillet round my brows, +Stood at the altar; and behind, ye twain, +Decked by your mother's hand with new-cleansed robes, +And with fresh flower-wreathed chaplets on your curls, +Attended, and your clear young voices made +Music that touched your father's eyes with tears, +If not the careless gods. I seem to hear +Those high sweet accents mounting in the hymn +Which rose to all the blessed gods who dwelt +Upon the far Olympus--Zeus, the Lord, +And Sovereign Here, and the immortal choir +Of Deities, but chiefly to the dread +Poseidon, him who sways the purple sea +As with a sceptre, shaking the fixed earth +With stress of thundering surges. By the shrine +The meek-eyed victim, for the sacrifice, +Stood with his gilded horns. The hymns were done, +And I in act to strike, when all the crowd +Who knelt behind us, with a common fear +Cried, with a cry that well might freeze the blood, +And then, with fearful glances towards the sea, +Fled, leaving us alone--me, the high priest, +And ye, the acolytes; forlorn of men, +Alone, but with our god. + But we stirred not: +We could not flee, who in the solemn act +Of worship, and the ecstasy which comes +To the believer's soul, saw heaven revealed, +The mysteries unveiled, the inner sky +Which meets the enraptured gaze. How should we fear +Who thus were god-encircled! So we stood +While the long ritual spent itself, nor cast +An eye upon the sea. Till as I came +To that great act which offers up a life +Before life's Lord, and the full mystery +Was trembling to completion, quick I heard +A stifled cry of agony, and knew +My children's voices. And the father's heart, +Which is far more than rite or service done +By man for god, seeing that it is divine +And comes from God to men--this rising in me, +Constrained me, and I ceased my prayer, and turned +To succour you, and lo! the awful coils +Which crushed your lives already, bound me round +And crushed me also, as you clung to me, +In common death. Some god had heard the prayer, +And lo! we were ourselves the sacrifice-- +The priest, the victim, the accepted life, +The blood, the pain, the salutary loss. + + Was it not better thus to cease and die +Together in one blest moment, mid the flush +And ecstasy of worship, and to know +Ourselves the victims? They were wrong who taught +That 'twas some jealous goddess who destroyed +Our lives, revengeful for discovered wiles, +Or hateful of our land. Not readily +Should such base passions sway the immortal gods; +But rather do I hold it sooth indeed +That Zeus himself it was, who pitying +The ruin he foreknew, yet might not stay, +Since mightier Fate decreed it, sent in haste +Those dreadful messengers, and bade them take +The pious lives he loved, before the din +Of midnight slaughter woke, and the fair town +Flamed pitifully to the skies, and all +Was blood and ruin. Surely it was best +To die as we did, and in death to live, +A vision for all ages of high pain +Which passes into beauty, and is merged +In one accordant whole, as discords merge +In that great Harmony which ceaseless rings +From the tense chords of life, than to have lived +Our separate lives, and died our separate deaths, +And left no greater mark than drops which rain +Upon the unbounded sea. Those hosts which fell +Before the Scaean gate upon the sand, +Nor found a bard to sing their fate, but left +Their bones to dogs and kites--were they more blest +Than we who, in the people's sight before +Ilium's unshattered towers, lay down to die +Our swift miraculous death? Dear sons, and good, +Dear children of my love, how doubly dear +For this our common sorrow; suffering weaves +Not only chains of darkness round, but binds +A golden glittering link, which though withdrawn +Or felt no longer, knits us soul to soul, +In indissoluble bonds, and draws our lives +So close, that though the individual life +Be merged, there springs a common life which grows +To such dread beauty, as has power to take +The sting from sorrow, and transform the pain +Into transcendent joy: as from the storm +The unearthly rainbow draws its myriad hues +And steeps the world in fairness. All our lives +Are notes that fade and sink, and so are merged +In the full harmony of Being. Dear sons, +Cling closer to me. Life nor Death has torn +Our lives asunder, as for some, but drawn +Their separate strands together in a knot +Closer than Life itself, stronger than Death, +Insoluble as Fate." + Then they three clung +Together--the strong father and young sons, +And in their loving eyes I saw the Pain +Fade into Joy, Suffering in Beauty lost, +And Death in Love! + + + + + By a still sullen pool, +Into its dark depths gazing, lay the ghost +Whom next I passed. In form, a lovely youth, +Scarce passed from boyhood. Golden curls were his, +And wide blue eyes. The semblance of a smile +Came on his lip--a girl's but for the down +Which hardly shaded it; but the pale cheek +Was soft as any maiden's, and his robe +Was virginal, and at his breast he bore +The perfumed amber cup which, when March comes +Gems the dry woods and windy wolds, and speaks +The resurrection. + Looking up, he said: +"Methought I saw her then, my love, my fair, +My beauty, my ideal; the dim clouds +Lifted, methought, a little--or was it +Fond Fancy only? For I know that here +No sunbeam cleaves the twilight, but a mist +Creeps over all the sky and fields and pools, +And blots them; and I know I seek in vain +My earth-sought beauty, nor can Fancy bring +An answer to my thought from these blind depths +And unawakened skies. Yet has use made +The quest so precious, that I keep it here, +Well knowing it is vain. + On the old earth +'Twas otherwise, when in fair Thessaly +I walked regardless of all nymphs who sought +My love, but sought in vain, whether it were +Dryad or Naiad from the woods or streams, +Or white-robed Oread fleeting on the side +Of fair Olympus, echoing back my sighs, +In vain, for through the mountains day by day +I wandered, and along the foaming brooks, +And by the pine-woods dry, and never took +A thought for love, nor ever 'mid the throng +Of loving nymphs who knew me beautiful +I dallied, unregarding; till they said +Some died for love of me, who loved not one. +And yet I cared not, wandering still alone +Amid the mountains by the scented pines. + + Till one fair day, when all the hills were still, +Nor any breeze made murmur through the boughs, +Nor cloud was on the heavens, I wandered slow, +Leaving the nymphs who fain with dance and song +Had kept me 'midst the glades, and strayed away +Among the pines, enwrapt in fantasy, +And by the beechen dells which clothe the feet +Of fair Olympus, wrapt in fantasy, +Weaving the thin and unembodied shapes +Which Fancy loves to body forth, and leave +In marble or in song; and so strayed down +To a low sheltered vale above the plains, +Where the lush grass grew thick, and the stream stayed +Its garrulous tongue; and last upon the bank +Of a still pool I came, where was no flow +Of water, but the depths were clear as air, +And nothing but the silvery gleaming side +Of tiny fishes stirred. There lay I down +Upon the flowery bank, and scanned the deep, +Half in a waking dream. + Then swift there rose, +From those enchanted depths, a face more fair +Than ever I had dreamt of, and I knew +My sweet long-sought ideal: the thick curls, +Like these, were golden, and the white robe showed +Like this; but for the wondrous eyes and lips, +The tender loving glance, the sunny smile +Upon the rosy mouth, these knew I not, +Not even in dreams; and yet I seemed to trace +Myself within them too, as who should find +His former self expunged, and him transformed +To some high thin ideal, separate +From what he was, by some invisible bar, +And yet the same in difference. As I moved +My arms to clasp her to me, lo! she moved +Her eager arms to mine, smiled to my smile, +Looked love to love, and answered longing eyes +With longing. When my full heart burst in words, +'Dearest, I love thee,' lo! the lovely lips, +'Dearest, I love thee,' sighed, and through the air +The love-lorn echo rang. But when I longed +To answer kiss with kiss, and stooped my lips +To her sweet lips in that long thrill which strains +Soul unto soul, the cold lymph came between +And chilled our love, and kept us separate souls +Which fain would mingle, and the self-same heaven +Rose, a blue vault above us, and no shade +Of earthly thing obscured us, as we lay +Two reflex souls, one and yet different, +Two sundered souls longing to be at one. + +There, all day long, until the light was gone +And took my love away, I lay and loved +The image, and when night was come, 'Farewell,' +I whispered, and she whispered back, 'Farewell,' +With oh, such yearning! Many a day we spent +By that clear pool together all day long. +And many a clouded hour on the wet grass +I lay beneath the rain, and saw her not, +And sickened for her; and sometimes the pool +Was thick with flood, and hid her; and sometimes +Some cold wind ruffled those clear wells, and left +But glimpses of her, and I rose at eve +Unsatisfied, a cold chill in my limbs +And fever at my heart: until, too soon! +The summer faded, and the skies were hid, +And my love came not, but a quenchless thirst +Wasted my life. And all the winter long +The bright sun shone not, or the thick ribbed ice +Obscured her, and I pined for her, and knew +My life ebb from me, till I grew too weak +To seek her, fearing I should see no more +My dear. And so the long dead winter waned +And the slow spring came back. + And one blithe day, +When life was in the woods, and the birds sang, +And soft airs fanned the hills, I knew again +Some gleam of hope within me, and again +With feeble limbs crawled forth, and felt the spring +Blossom within me; and the flower-starred glades, +The bursting trees, the building nests, the songs, +The hurry of life revived me; and I crept, +Ghost-like, amid the joy, until I flung +My panting frame, and weary nerveless limbs, +Down by the cold still pool. + And lo! I saw +My love once more, not beauteous as of old, +But oh, how changed! the fair young cheek grown pale, +The great eyes, larger than of yore, gaze forth +With a sad yearning look; and a great pain +And pity took me which were more than love, +And with a loud and wailing voice I cried, +'Dearest, I come again. I pine for thee,' +And swift she answered back, 'I pine for thee;' +'Come to me, oh, my own,' I cried, and she-- +'Come to me, oh, my own.' Then with a cry +Of love I joined myself to her, and plunged +Beneath the icy surface with a kiss, +And fainted, and am here. + And now, indeed, +I know not if it was myself I sought, +As some tell, or another. For I hold +That what we seek is but our other self, +Other and higher, neither wholly like +Nor wholly different, the half-life the gods +Retained when half was given--one the man +And one the woman; and I longed to round +The imperfect essence by its complement, +For only thus the perfect life stands forth +Whole, self-sufficing. Worse it is to live +Ill-mated than imperfect, and to move +From a false centre, not a perfect sphere, +But with a crooked bias sent oblique +Athwart life's furrows. 'Twas myself, indeed, +Thus only that I sought, that lovers use +To see in that they love, not that which is, +But that their fancy feigns, and view themselves +Reflected in their love, yet glorified, +And finer and more pure. + Wherefore it is: +All love which finds its own ideal mate +Is happy--happy that which gives itself +Unto itself, and keeps, through long calm years, +The tranquil image in its eyes, and knows +Fulfilment and is blest, and day by day +Wears love like a white flower, nor holds it less +Though sharp winds bite, or hot suns fade, or age +Sully its perfect whiteness, but inhales +Its fragrance, and is glad. But happier still +He who long seeks a high goal unattained, +And wearies for it all his days, nor knows +Possession sate his thirst, but still pursues +The fleeting loveliness--now seen, now lost, +But evermore grown fairer, till at last +He stretches forth his arms and takes the fair +In one long rapture, and its name is Death." + + Thus he; and seeing me stand grave: "Farewell. +If ever thou shouldst happen on a wood +In Thessaly, upon the plain-ward spurs +Of fair Olympus, take the path which winds +Through the close vale, and thou shalt see the pool +Where once I found my life. And if in Spring +Thou go there, round the margin thou shalt know +These amber blooms bend meekly, smiling down +Upon the crystal surface. Pluck them not. +But kneel a little while, and breathe a prayer +To the fair god of Love, and let them be. +For in those tender flowers is hid the life +That once was mine. All things are bound in one +In earth and heaven, nor is there any gulf +'Twixt things that live,--the flower that was a life, +The life that is a flower,--but one sure chain +Binds all, as now I know. + If there are still +Fair Oreads on the hills, say to them, sir, +They must no longer pine for me, but find +Some worthier lover, who can love again; +For I have found my love." + And to the pool +He turned, and gazed with lovely eyes, and showed +Fair as an angel. + + + + + Leaving him enwrapt +In musings, to a gloomy pass I came +Between dark rocks, where scarce a gleam of light, +Not even the niggard light of that dim land, +Might enter; and the soil was black and bare, +Nor even the thin growths which scarcely clothed +The higher fields might live. Hard by a cave +Which sloped down steeply to the lowest depths, +Whence dreadful sounds ascended, seated still, +Her head upon her hands, I saw a maid +With eyes fixed on the ground--not Tartarus +It was, but Hades; and she knew no pain, +Except her painful thought. Yet there it seemed, +As here, the unequal measure which awaits +The adjustment, and meanwhile, inspires the strife +Which rears life's palace walls; and fills the sail +Which bears our bark across unfathomed seas, +To its last harbour; this bore sway there too, +And 'twas a luckless shade which sat and wept +Amid the gloom, though blameless. Suddenly, +She raised her head, and lo! the long curls, writhed +Tangled, and snake-like--as the dripping hair +Of a dead girl who freed from life and shame, +From out the cruel wintry flow, is laid +Stark on the snow with dreadful staring eyes +Like hers. For when she raised her eyes to mine, +They chilled my blood, so great a woe they bore; +And as she gazed, wide-eyed, I knew my pulse +Beat slow, and my limbs stiffen. Then they wore, +At length, a softer look, and life revived +Within my breast as thus she softly spoke: + + "Nay, friend, I would not harm thee. I have known +Great sorrow, and sometimes it racks me still, +And turns me into stone, and makes my eyes +As dreadful as of yore; and yet it comes +But seldom, as thou sawest, now, for Time +And Death have healing hands. Only I love +To sit within the darkness here, nor face +The throng of happier ghosts; if any ghost +Of happiness come here. For on the earth +They wronged me bitterly, and turned to stone +My heart, till scarce I knew if e'er I was +The happy girl of yore. + That youth who dreams +Up yonder by the margin of the lake, +Knew but a cold ideal love, but me +Love in unearthly guise, but bodily form, +Seized and betrayed. + I was a priestess once, +Of stern Athene, doing day by day +Due worship; raising, every dawn that came, +My cold pure hymns to take her virgin ear; +Nor sporting with the joyous company +Of youths and maids, who at the neighbouring shrine +Of Aphrodite served. Nor dance nor song +Allured me, nor the pleasant days of youth +And twilights 'mid the vines. They held me cold +Who were my friends in childhood. For my soul +Was virginal, and at the virgin shrine +I knelt, athirst for knowledge. Day by day +The long cold ritual sped, the liturgies +Were done, the barren hymns of praise went up +Before the goddess, and the ecstasy +Of faith possessed me wholly, till almost +I knew not I was woman. Yet I knew +That I was fair to see, and fit to share +Some natural honest love, and bear the load +Of children like the rest; only my soul +Was lost in higher yearnings. + Like a god, +He burst upon those pallid lifeless days, +Bringing fresh airs and salt, as from the sea, +And wrecked my life. How should a virgin know +Deceit, who never at the joyous shrine +Of Cypris knelt, but ever lived apart, +And so grew guilty? For if I had spent +My days among the throng, either my fault +Were blameless, or undone. For innocence +The tempter spreads his net. For innocence +The gods keep all their terrors. Innocence +It is that bears the burden, which for guilt +Is lightened, and the spoiler goes his way, +Uncaring, joyous, leaving her alone, +The victim and unfriended. + Was it just +In her, my mistress, who had had my youth, +To wreak such vengeance on me? I had erred, +It may be; but on him, whose was the guilt, +No heaven-sent vengeance lighted, but he sped +Away to other hearts across the deep, +Careless and free; but me, the cold stern eyes +Of the pure goddess withered; and the scorn +Of maids, despised before, and the great blank +Of love, whose love was gone--this wrung my heart, +And froze my blood; set on my brow despair, +And turned my gaze to stone, and filled my eyes +With horror, and stiffened the soft curls which once +Lay smooth and fair into such snake-like rings +As made my aspect fearful. All who saw, +Shrank from me and grew cold, and felt the warm, +Full tide of life freeze in them, seeing in me +Love's work, who sat wrapt up and lost in shame, +As in a cloak, consuming my own heart, +And was in hell already. As they gazed +Upon me, my despair looked forth so cold +From out my eyes, that if some spoiler came +Fresh from his wickedness, and looked on them, +Their glare would strike him dead; and those fair curls +Which once the accursed toyed with, grew to be +The poisonous things thou seest; and so, with hate +Of man's injustice and the gods', who knew +Me blameless, and yet punished me; and sick +Of life and love, and loathing earth and sky, +And feeding on my sorrow, Hate at last +Left me a Fury. + Ah, the load of life +Which lives for hatred! We are made to love-- +We women, and the injury which turns +The honey of our lives to gall, transforms +The angel to the fiend. For it is sweet +To know the dreadful sense of strength, and smite +And leave the tyrant dead with a glance; ay! sweet, +In that fierce lust of power, to slay the life +Which harmed not, when the suppliants' cry ascends +To ears which hate has deafened. So I lived +Long time in misery; to my sleepless eyes +No healing slumbers coming; but at length, +Zeus and the goddess pitying, I knew +Soft rest once more veiling my dreadful gaze +In peaceful slumbers. Then a blessed dream +I dreamt. For, lo! a god-like knight in mail +Of gold, who sheared with his keen flashing blade; +With scarce a pang of pain, the visage cold +Which too great sorrow left me; at one stroke +Clean from the trunk, and then o'er land and sea, +Invisible, sped with winged heels, to where, +Upon a sea-worn cape, a fair young maid, +More blameless even than I was, chained and bound, +Waited a monster from the deep and stood +In innocent nakedness. Then, as he rose, +Loathsome, from out the depths, a monstrous growth, +A creature wholly serpent, partly man, +The wrongs that I had known, stronger than death, +Rose up with such black hate in me again, +And wreathed such hissing poison through my hair, +And shot such deadly glances from my eyes, +That nought that saw might live. And the vile worm +Was slain, and she delivered. Then I dreamt +My mistress, whom I thought so stern to me, +Athene, set those dreadful staring eyes, +And that despairing visage, on her shield +Of chastity, and bears it evermore +To fright the waverer from the wrong he would, +And strike the unrepenting spoiler, dead." + + Then for a little paused she, while I saw +Again her eyes grown dreadful, till once more, +And with a softer glance: + "From that blest dream +I woke not on the earth, but only here. +And now my pain is lightened since I know +My dream, which was a dream within the dream +Which is our life, fulfilled. And I have saved +Another through my suffering, and through her +A people. Oh, strange chain of sacrifice, +That binds an innocent life, and from its blood +And sorrow works out joy! Oh, mystery +Of pain and evil! wrong grown salutary, +And mighty to redeem! If thou shouldst see +A woman on the earth, who pays to-day +Like penalty of sin, and the new gods +(For after Saturn, Zeus ruled; after him +It may be there are others) love to take +The tender heart of girlhood, and to immure +Within a cold and cloistered cell the life +Which nature meant to bless, and if Love come +Hold her accursed; or to some poor maid, +Forlorn and trusting, still the tempter comes +And works his wrong, and leaves her in despair +And shame and all abhorrence, while he goes +His way unpunished,--if thou know her eyes +Freeze thee like mine--oh! bid her lose her pain +In succouring others--say to her that Time +And Death have healing hands, and here there comes +To the forgiven transgressor only pain +Enough to chasten joy!" + And a soft tear +Trembled within her eyes, and her sweet gaze +Was as the Magdalen's, the horror gone +And a great radiance come. + + + + + Then as I passed +To upper air, I saw two figures rise +Together, one a woman with a grave +Fair face not all unhappy, and the robes +And presence of a queen; and with her walked +The fairest youth that ever maiden's dream +Conceived. And as they came, the throng of ghosts, +For these who were not wholly ghosts, arose, +And did them homage. Not the chain of love +Bound them, but such calm kinship as is bred +Of long and difficult pilgrimages borne +Through common perils by two souls which share +A common weary exile. Nor as ghosts +These showed, but rather like two lives which hung +Suspended in a trance. A halo of life +Played round them, and they brought a sweet brisk air +Tasting of earth and heaven, like sojourners +Who stayed but for awhile, and knew a swift +Release await them. First the youth it was +Who spake thus as they passed: + "Dread Queen, once more +I feel life stir within me, and my blood +Run faster, while a new strange cycle turns +And grows completed. Soon on the dear earth +Under the lively light of fuller day, +I shall revive me of my wound; and thou, +Passing with me yon cold and lifeless stream, +And the grim monster who will fawn on thee, +Shalt issue in royal pomp, and wreathed with flowers, +Upon the cheerful earth, leaving behind +A deeper winter for the ghosts who dwell +Within these sunless haunts; and I shall lie +Once more within loved arms, and thou shalt see +Thy early home, and kiss thy mother's cheek, +And be a girl again. But not for long; +For ere the bounteous Autumn spreads her hues +Of gold and purple, a cold voice will call +And bring us to these wintry lands once more, +As erst so often. Blest are we, indeed, +Above the rest, and yet I would I knew +The careless joys of old. + For in hot youth, +Oh, it was sweet to greet the balmy night +That was love's nurse, and feel the weary eyes +Closed by soft kisses,--sweet at early dawn +To wake refreshed and, scarce from loving arms +Leaping, to issue forth, with winding horn, +By dewy heath and brake, and taste the fair +Young breath of early morning; and 'twas sweet +To chase the bounding quarry all day long +With my true hounds and rapid steed, and gay +Companions of my youth, and with the eve +To turn home laden with the spoil, and take +The banquet which awaited, and sweet wine +Poured out, and kisses pressed on loving lips; +Circled by snowy arms. Oh, it was sweet +To be alive and young! + For sure it is +The gods gave not quick pulses and hot blood +And strength and beauty for no end, but would +That we should use them wisely; and the fair, +Sweet mistress of my service was, indeed, +Worthy of all observance. Oh, her eyes +When I lay bleeding! All day long we rode, +I and my youthful peers, with horse and hound, +And knew the joy of swift pursuit and toil +And peril. At the last, a fierce boar turned +At bay, and with his gleaming tusks o'erthrew +My steed, and as I fell upon the flowers, +Pierced me as with a sword. Then, as I lay, +I knew the strange slow chill which, stealing, tells +The young that it is death. Yet knew I not +Of pain or fear, only great pity, indeed, +That she should lose her love, who was so fond +And gracious. But when, lifting my dim gaze, +I saw her bend o'er me,--the lovely eyes +Suffused with tears, and her sweet smile replaced +By agonized sorrow,--for a while I stayed +Life's ebbing tide, and raised my cold, white lips, +With a faint smile, to hers. Then, with a kiss-- +One long last kiss, we mingled, and I knew +No more. + But even in death, so strong is Love, +I could not wholly die; and year by year, +When the bright springtime comes, and the earth lives, +Love opens these dread gates, and calls me forth +Across the gulf. Not here, indeed, she comes, +Being a goddess and in heaven, but smooths +My path to the old earth, where still I know +Once more the sweet lost days, and once again +Blossom on that soft breast, and am again +A youth, and rapt in love; and yet not all +As careless as of yore; but seem to know +The early spring of passion, tamed by time +And suffering, to a calmer, fuller flow, +Less fitful, but more strong." + Then the sad Queen +"Fair youth, thy lot I know, for I am old +As the old earth and yet as young as is +The budding spring, and I was here a Queen, +When Love was not or Time, and to my arms +Thou camest as a little child, to dwell +Within the halls of Death, for without Death +There were nor Birth nor Love, nor would Life yearn +To lose itself within another life, +And dying, to be born. I, too, have died +For love in part, and live again through love; +For in the far-off years, when Time was young, +And Love unborn on earth, and Zeus in heaven +Ruled, a young sovereign; I, a maiden, dwelt +With dread Demeter on the lovely plains +Of sunny Sicily. There, day by day, +I sported with the maiden goddesses, +In virgin freedom. Budding age made gay +Our lightsome feet, and on the flowery slopes +We wandered daily, gathering flowers to weave +In careless garlands for our locks, and passed +The days in innocent gladness. Thought of Love +There came not to us, for as yet the earth +Was virginal, nor yet had Eros come +With his delicious pain. + And one fair morn-- +Not all the ages blot it--on the side +Of AEtna we were straying. There was then +Summer nor winter, springtide nor the time +Of harvest, but the soft unfailing sun +Shone always, and the sowing time was one +With reaping; fruit and flower together sprung +Upon the trees; and blade and ripened ear +Together clothed the plains. There, as I strayed, +Sudden a black cloud down the rugged side +Of AEtna, mixed with fire and dreadful sound +Of thunder, rolled around me, and I heard +The maids who were my fellows turn and flee +With shrieks and cries for me. + But I, I knew +No terror while the god o'ershadowed me, +Hiding my life in his, nor when I wept +My flowers all withered, and my blood ran slow +Within a wintry land. Some voice there was +Which said, 'Fear not. Thou shalt return and see +Thy mother again, only a little while +Fate wills that thou shouldst tarry, and become +Queen of another world. Thou seest that all +Thy flowers are faded. They shall live again +On earth, as thou shalt, as thou livest now +The Life of Death--for what is Death but Life +Suspended as in sleep? The changeless rule +Where life was constant, and the sun o'erhead, +Blazed forth for ever, changes and is hidden +Awhile. This region which thou seest, where all +The trees are lifeless, and the flowers are dead, +Is but the self-same earth on which erewhile +Thou sportedst fancy free.' + So, without fear +I wandered on this bare land, seeing far +Upon the sky the peaks of my own hills +And crests of my own woods. Till, when I grew +Hungered, ere yet another form I saw; +Along the silent alleys journeying, +And leafless groves; a fair and mystic tree +Rose like a heart in shape, and 'mid its leaves +One golden mystic fruit with a fair seed +Hid in it. This, with childish hand, I took +And ate, and straight I knew the tree was Life, +And the fruit Death, and the hid seed was Love. + + Ah, sweet strange fruit! the which if any taste +They may no longer keep their lives of old +Or their own selves unchanged, but some weird change +And subtle alchemy comes which can transmute +The blood, and mould the spirits of gods and men +In some new magical form. Not as before, +Our life comes to us, though the passion cools, +No, never as before. My mother came +Too late to seek me. She had power to raise +A life from out Death's grasp, but from the arms +Of Love she might not take me, nor undo +Love's past for all her strength. She came and sought +With fires her daughter over land and sea, +Beyond the paths of all the setting stars, +In vain, and over all the earth in vain, +Seeking whom love disguised. Then on all lands +She cast the spell of barrenness; the wheat +Was blighted in the ear, the purple grapes +Blushed no more on the vines, and all the gods +Were sorrowful, seeing the load of ill +My rape had laid on men. Last, Zeus himself, +Pitying the evil that was done, sent forth +His messenger beyond the western rim +To fetch me back to earth. + But not the same +He found me who had eaten of Love's seed, +But changed into another; nor could his power +Prevail to keep me wholly on the earth, +Or make me maid again. The wintry life +Is homelier often than the summer blaze +Of happiness unclouded; so, when Spring +Comes on the world, I, coming, cross with thee, +Year after year, the cruel icy stream; +And leave this anxious sceptre and the shades +Of those in hell, or those for whom, though blest, +No Spring comes, till the last great Spring which brings +New heavens and new earth; and lay my head +Upon my mother's bosom, and grow young, +And am a girl again. + A soft air breathes +Across the stream and fills these barren fields +With the sweet odours of the earth. I know +Again the perfume of the violets +Which bloom on AEtna's side. Soon we shall pass +Together to our home, while round our feet +The crocus flames like gold, the wind-flowers white +Wave their soft petals on the breeze, and all +The choir of flowers lift up their silent song +To the unclouded heavens. Thou, fair boy, +Shalt lie within thy love's white arms again, +And I within my mother's. Sweet is Love +In ceasing and renewal; nay, in these +It lives and has its being. Thou couldst not keep +Thy youth as now, if always on the breast +Of love too late a lingerer thou hadst known +Possession sate thee. Nor might I have kept +My mother's heart, if I had lived to ripe +And wither on the stalk. Time calls and Change +Commands both men and gods, and speeds us on +We know not whither; but the old earth smiles +Spring after Spring, and the seed bursts again +Out of its prison mould, and the dead lives +Renew themselves, and rise aloft and soar +And are transformed, clothing themselves with change +Till the last change be done." + As thus she spake, +I saw a gleam of light flash from the eyes +Of all the listening shades, and a great joy +Thrill through the realms of Death. + + + + + And then again +A youthful shade I saw, a comely boy, +With lip and cheek just touched with manly down, +And strong limbs wearing Spring; in mien and garb +A youthful chieftain, with a perfect face +Of fresh young beauty, clustered curls divine, +And chiselled features like a sculptured god, +But warm and breathing life; only the eyes, +The fair large eyes, were full of dreaming thought, +And seemed to gaze beyond the world of sight, +On a hid world of beauty. Him I stayed, +Accosting with soft words of courtesy; +And, on a bank of scentless flowers reclined, +He answered thus: + "Not for the garish sun +I long, nor for the splendours of high noon +In this dim land I languish; for of yore +Full often, when the swift chase swept along +Through the brisk morn, or when my comrades called +To wrestling, or the foot-race, or to cleave +The sunny stream, I loved to walk apart, +Self-centred, sole; and when the laughing girls +To some fair stripling's oaten melody +Made ready for the dance, I heeded not; +Nor when to the loud trumpet's blast and blare +My peers rode forth to battle. For, one eve, +In Latmos, after a long day in June, +I stayed to rest me on a sylvan hill, +Where often youth and maid were wont to meet +Towards moonrise; and deep slumber fell on me +Musing on Love, just as the ruddy orb +Rose on the lucid night, set in a frame +Of blooming myrtle and sharp tremulous plane; +Deep slumber fell, and loosed my limbs in rest. + + Then, as the full orb poised upon the peak, +There came a lovely vision of a maid, +Who seemed to step as from a golden car +Out of the low-hung moon. No mortal form, +Such as ofttimes of yore I knew and clasped +At twilight 'mid the vines at the mad feast +Of Dionysus, or the fair maids cold +Who streamed in white processions to the shrine +Of the chaste Virgin Goddess; but a shape +Richer and yet more pure. No thinnest veil +Obscured her; but each exquisite limb revealed, +Gleamed like a golden statue subtly wrought +By a great sculptor on the architrave +Of some high temple-front--only in her +The form was soft and warm, and charged with life, +And breathing. As I seemed to gaze on her, +Nearer she drew and gazed; and as I lay +Supine, as in a spell, the radiance stooped +And kissed me on the lips, a chaste, sweet kiss, +Which drew my spirit with it. So I slept +Each night upon the hill, until the dawn +Came in her silver chariot from the East, +And chased my Love away. But ever thus +Dissolved in love as in a heaven-sent dream, +Whenever the bright circle of the moon +Climbed from the hills, whether in leafy June +Or harvest-tide, or when they leapt and pressed +Red-thighed the spouting must, I walked apart +From all, and took no thought for mortal maid, +Nor nimble joys of youth; but night by night +I stole, when all were sleeping, to the hill, +And slumbered and was blest; until I grew +Possest by love so deep, I seemed to live +In slumber only, while the waking day +Showed faint as any vision. + So I turned +Paler and paler with the months, and climbed +The steep with laboured steps and difficult breath, +But still I climbed. Ay, though the wintry frost +Chained fast the streams and whitened all the fields, +I sought my mistress through the leafless groves, +And slumbered and was happy, till the dawn +Returning found me stretched out, cold and stark, +With life's fire nigh burnt out. Till one clear night, +When the birds shivered in the pines, and all +The inner heavens stood open, lo! she came, +Brighter and kinder still, and kissed my eyes +And half-closed lips, and drew my soul through them, +And in one precious ecstasy dissolved +My life. And thenceforth, ever on the hill +I lie unseen of man; a cold, white form, +Still young, through all the ages; but my soul, +Clothed in this thin presentment of old days, +Walks this dim land, where never moonrise comes, +Nor day-break, but a twilight waiting-time, +No more; and, ah! how weary! Yet I judge +My lot a higher far than his who spends +His youth on swift hot pleasure, quickly past; +Or theirs, my equals', who through long calm years +Grew sleek in dull content of wedded lives +And fair-grown offspring. Many a day for them, +While I was wandering here, and my bones bleached +Upon the rocks, the sweet autumnal sun +Beamed, and the grapes grew purple. Many a day +They heaped up gold, they knelt at festivals, +They waxed in high report and fame of men, +They gave their girls in marriage; while for me +Upon the untrodden peaks, the cold, grey morn, +The snows, the rains, the winds, the untempered blaze, +Beat year by year, until I turned to stone, +And the great eagles shrieked at me, and wheeled +Affrighted. Yet I judge it better indeed +To seek in life, as now I know I sought, +Some fair impossible Love, which slays our life, +Some fair ideal raised too high for man; +And failing to grow mad, and cease to be, +Than to decline, as they do who have found +Broad-paunched content and weal and happiness: +And so an end. For one day, as I know, +The high aim unfulfilled fulfils itself; +The deep, unsatisfied thirst is satisfied; +And through this twilight, broken suddenly, +The inmost heaven, the lucent stars of God, +The Moon of Love, the Sun of Life; and I, +I who pine here--I on the Latmian hill +Shall soar aloft and find them." + With the word, +There beamed a shaft of dawn athwart the skies, +And straight the sentinel thrush within the yew +Sang out reveille to the hosts of day, +Soldierly; and the pomp and rush of life +Began once more, and left me there alone +Amid the awaking world. + + + + + Nay, not alone. +One fair shade lingered in the fuller day, +The last to come, when now my dream had grown +Half mixed with waking thoughts, as grows a dream +In summer mornings when the broader light +Dazzles the sleeper's eyes; and is most fair +Of all and best remembered, and becomes +Part of our waking life, when older dreams +Grow fainter, and are fled. So this remained +The fairest of the visions that I knew, +Most precious and most dear. + The increasing light +Shone through her, finer than the thinnest shade, +And yet most full of beauty; golden wings, +From her fair shoulders springing, seemed to lift +Her stainless feet from the cold ground and snatch +Their wearer into air; and in her eyes +Was such fair glance as comes from virgin love, +Long chastened and triumphant. Every trace +Of earth had vanished from her, and she showed +As one who walks a saint already in life, +Virgin or mother. Immortality +Breathed from those radiant eyes which yet had passed +Between the gates of death. I seemed to hear +The Soul of mortals speaking: + "I was born +Of a great race and mighty, and was grown +Fair, as they said, and good, and kept a life +Pure from all stain of passion. Love I knew not, +Who was absorbed in duty; and the Mother +Of gods and men, seeing my life more calm +Than human, hating my impassive heart, +Sent down her perfect son in wrath to earth, +And bade him break me. + But when Eros came, +It did repent him of the task, for Love +Is kin to Duty. + And within my life +I knew miraculous change, and a soft flame +Wherefrom the snows of Duty flushed to rose, +And the chill icy flow of mind was turned +To a warm stream of passion. Long I lived +Not knowing what had been, nor recognized +A Presence walking with me through my life, +As if by night, his face and form concealed: +A gracious voice alone, which none but I +Might hear, sustained me, and its name was Love. + + Not as the earthly loves which throb and flush +Round earthly shrines was mine, but a pure spirit, +Lovelier than all embodied love, more pure +And wonderful; but never on his eyes +I looked, which still were hidden, and I knew not +The fashion of his nature; for by night, +When visual eyes are blind, but the soul sees, +Came he, and bade me seek not to enquire +Or whence he came or wherefore. Nor knew I +His name. And always ere the coming day, +As if he were the Sun-god, lingering +With some too well-loved maiden, he would rise +And vanish until eve. But all my being +Thrilled with my fair unearthly visitant +To higher duty and more glorious meed +Of action than of old, for it was Love +That came to me, who might not know his name. + + Thus, ever rapt by dreams divine, I knew +The scorn that comes from weaker souls, which miss, +Being too low of nature, the great joy +Revealed to others higher; nay, my sisters, +Who being of one blood with me, made choice +To tread the lower ways of daily life, +Grew jealous of me, bidding me take heed +Lest haply 'twas some monstrous fiend I loved, +Such as in fable ofttimes sought and won +The innocent hearts of maids. Long time I held +My love too dear for doubt, who was so sweet +And lovable. But at the last the sneers, +The mystery which hid him, the swift flight +Before the coming dawn, the shape concealed, +The curious girlish heart, these worked on me +With an unsatisfied thirst. Not his own words: +'Dear, I am with thee only while I keep +My visage hidden; and if thou once shouldst see +My face, I must forsake thee: the high gods +Link Love with Faith, and he withdraws himself +From the full gaze of Knowledge'--not even these +Could cure me of my longing, or the fear +Those mocking voices worked; who fain would learn +The worst that might befall. + And one sad night, +Just as the day leapt from the hills and brought +The hour when he should go: with tremulous hands, +Lighting my midnight lamp in fear, I stood +Long time uncertain, and at length turned round +And gazed upon my love. He lay asleep, +And oh, how fair he was! The flickering light +Fell on the fairest of the gods, stretched out +In happy slumber. Looking on his locks +Of gold, and faultless face and smile, and limbs +Made perfect, a great joy and trembling took me +Who was most blest of women, and in awe +And fear I stooped to kiss him. One warm drop-- +From the full lamp within my trembling hand, +Or a glad tear from my too happy eyes, +Fell on his shoulder. + Then the god unclosed +His lovely eyes, and with great pity spake: +'Farewell! There is no Love except with Faith, +And thine is dead! Farewell! I come no more.' +And straightway from the hills the full red sun +Leapt up, and as I clasped my love again, +The lovely vision faded from his place, +And came no more. + Then I, with breaking heart, +Knowing my life laid waste by my own hand, +Went forth and would have sought to hide my life +Within the stream of Death; but Death came not +To aid me who not yet was meet for Death. + + Then finding that Love came not back to me, +I thought that in the temples of the gods +Haply he dwelt, and so from fane to fane +I wandered over earth, and knelt in each, +Enquiring for my Love; and I would ask +The priests and worshippers, 'Is this Love's shrine? +Sirs, have you seen the god?' But never at all +I found him. For some answered, 'This is called +The Shrine of Knowledge;' and another, 'This, +The Shrine of Beauty;' and another, 'Strength;' +And yet another, 'Youth.' And I would kneel +And say a prayer to my Love, and rise +And seek another. Long, o'er land and sea, +I wandered, till I was not young or fair, +Grown wretched, seeking my lost Love; and last, +Came to the smiling, hateful shrine where ruled +The queen of earthly love and all delight, +Cypris, but knelt not there, but asked of one +Who seemed her priest, if Eros dwelt with her. + + Then to the subtle-smiling goddess' self +They led me. She with hatred in her eyes: +'What! thou to seek for Love, who art grown thin +And pale with watching! He is not for thee. +What Love is left for such? Thou didst despise +Love, and didst dwell apart. Love sits within +The young maid's eyes, making them beautiful. +Love is for youth, and joy, and happiness; +And not for withered lives. Ho! bind her fast. +Take her and set her to the vilest tasks, +And bend her pride by solitude and tears, +Who will not kneel to me, but dares to seek +A disembodied love. My son has gone +And left thee for thy fault, and thou shalt know +The misery of my thralls.' + Then in her house +They bound me to hard tasks and vile, and kept +My life from honour, chained among her slaves +And lowest ministers, taking despite +And injury for food, and set to bind +Their wounds whom she had tortured, and to feed +The pitiful lives which in her prisons pent +Languished in hopeless pain. There is no sight +Of suffering but I saw it, and was set +To succour it; and all my woman's heart +Was torn with the ineffable miseries +Which love and life have worked; and dwelt long time +In groanings and in tears. + And then, oh joy! +Oh miracle! once more at length again +I felt Love's arms around me, and the kiss +Of Love upon my lips, and in the chill +Of deepest prison cells, 'mid vilest tasks, +The glow of his sweet breath, and the warm touch +Of his invisible hand, and his sweet voice, +Ay, sweeter than of old, and tenderer, +Speak to me, pierce me, hold me, fold me round +With arms Divine, till all the sordid earth +Was hued like heaven, and Life's dull prison-house +Turned to a golden palace, and those low tasks +Grew to be higher works and nobler gains +Than any gains of knowledge, and at last +He whispered softly, 'Dear, unclose thine eyes. +Thou mayst look on me now. I go no more, +But am thine own for ever.' + Then with wings +Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes, +Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land, +Scarce for an instant staying till we reached +The inmost courts of heaven. + But sometimes still +I come here for a little, and speak a word +Of peace to those who wait. The slow wheel turns, +The cycles round themselves and grow complete, +The world's year whitens to the harvest-tide, +And one word only am I sent to say +To those dear souls, who wait here, or who now +Breathe earthly air--one universal word +To all things living, and the word is 'Love.'" + + Then soared she visibly before my gaze, +And the heavens took her, and I knew my eyes +Had seen the soul of man, the deathless soul, +Defeated, struggling, purified, and blest. + + + + + Then all the choir of happy waiting shades, +Heroes and queens, fair maidens and brave youths, +Swept by me, rhythmic, slow, as if they trod +Some unheard measure, passing where I stood +In fair procession, each with a faint smile +Upon the lip, signing "Farewell, oh shade! +It shall be well with thee, as 'tis with us, +If only thou art true. The world of Life, +The world of Death, are but opposing sides +Of one great orb, and the Light shines on both. +Oh, happy happy shade! Farewell! Farewell!" +And so they passed away. + + + + + END OF BOOK II. + + + + + BOOK III. + + OLYMPUS. + + + + + But I, my gaze +Following the soaring soul which now was lost +In the awakening skies, floated with her, +As in a trance, beyond the golden gates +Which separate Earth from Heaven; and to my thought +Gladdened by that broad effluence of light, +This old earth seemed transfigured, and the fields, +So dim and bare, grew green and clothed themselves +With lustrous hues. A fine ethereal air +Played round me as I mused, and filled the soul +With an ineffable content. What need +Of words to tell of things unreached by words? +Or seek to engrave upon the treacherous thought +The fair and fugitive fancies of a dream, +Which vanish ere we fix them? + But methinks +He knows the scene, who knows the one fair day, +One only and no more, which year by year +In springtime comes, when lingering winter flies, +And lo! the trees blossom in white and pink. +And golden clusters, and the glades are filled +With delicate primrose and deep odorous beds +Of violets, and on the tufted meads +With kingcups starred, and cowslip bells, and blue +Sweet hyacinths, and frail anemones, +The broad West wind breathes softly, and the air +Is tremulous with the lark, and thro' the woods +The soft full-throated thrushes all day long +Flood the green dells with joy, and thro' the dry +Brown fields the sower strides, sowing his seed, +And all is life and song. Or he who first, +Whether in fair free boyhood, when the world +Is his to choose, or when his fuller life +Beats to another life, or afterwards, +Keeping his youth within his children's eyes, +Looks on the snow-clad everlasting hills, +And marks the sunset smite them, and is glad +Of the beautiful fair world. + A springtide land +It seemed, where East winds came not. Sweetest song +Was everywhere, by glade or sunny plain; +And thro' the golden valleys winding streams +Rippled in glancing silver, and above, +The blue hills rose, and over all a peak, +White, awful, with a constant fleece of cloud +Veiling its summit, towered. Unfailing Day +Lighted it, for no turn of dawn and eve +Came there, nor changing seasons, but a broad +Fixed joy of Being, undisturbed by Time. + + There, in a happy glade shut in by groves +Of laurel and sweet myrtle, on a green +And flower-lit lawn, I seemed to see the ghosts +Of the old gods. Upon the gentle slope +Of a fair hill, a joyous company, +The Immortals lay. Hard by, a murmurous stream +Fell through the flowers; below them, space on space, +Laughed the immeasurable plains; beyond, +The mystic mountain soared. Height after height +Of bare rock ledges left the climbing pines, +And reared their giddy, shining terraces +Into the ethereal air. Above, the snows +Of the white summit cleft the fleece of cloud +Which always clothed it round. + Ah, fail-and sweet, +Yet with a ghostly fairness, fine and thin, +Those godlike Presences. Not dreams indeed, +But something dream-like, were they. Blessed Shades +Heroic and Divine, as when, in days +When Man was young, and Time, the vivid thought +Translated into Form the unattained +Impossible Beauty of men's dreams, and fixed +The Loveliness in marble. + As with awe +Following my spotless guide, I stood apart, +Not daring to draw near; a shining form +Rose from the throng, and floated, light as air, +To where I trembled. And I knew the face +And form of Artemis, the fair, the pure, +The undefiled. A crescent silvery moon +Shone thro' her locks, and by her side she bore +A quiver of golden darts. At sight of whom +I felt a sudden chill, like his who once +Looked upon her and died; yet could not fear, +Seeing how fair she was. Her sweet voice rang +Clear as a bird's: + "Mortal, what fate hath brought +Thee hither, uncleansed by death? How canst thou breathe +Immortal air, being mortal? Yet fear not, +Since thou art come. For we too are of earth +Whom here thou seest: there were not a heaven +Were there no earth, nor gods, had men not been, +But each the complement of each and grown +The other's creature, is and has its being, +A double essence, Human and Divine. +So that the God is hidden in the man, +And something Human bounds and forms the God; +Which else had shown too great and undefined +For mortal sight, and having no human eye +To see it, were unknown. But we who bore +Sway of old time, we were but attributes +[3]Of the great God who is all Things that be-- +The Pillar of the Earth and starry Sky, +The Depth of the great Deep; the Sun, the Moon, +The Word which Makes; the All-compelling Love-- +For all Things lie within His Infinite Form." + + Even as she spake, a throng of heavenly forms +Floated around me, filling all my soul +With fair unearthly beauty, and the air +With such ambrosial perfume as is born. +When morning bursts upon a tropic sea, +From boundless wastes of flowers; and as I knelt +In rapture, lo! the same clear voice again +From out the throng of gods: + "Those whom thou seest +Were even as I, embodiments of Him +Who is the Centre of all Life: myself +The Maiden-Queen of Purity; and Strength, +Divine when unabused; Love too, the Spring +And Cause of Things; and Knowledge, which lays bare +Their secret; and calm Duty, Queen of all, +And Motherhood in one; and Youth, which bears, +Beauty of Form and Life and Light, and breathes +The breath of Inspiration; and the Soul, +The particle of God, sent down to man, +Which doth in turn reveal the world and God. + + Wherefore it is men called on Artemis, +The refuge of young souls; for still in age +They keep some dim reflection uneffaced +Of a Diviner Purity than comes +To the spring days of youth, when all the world +Smiles, and the rapid blood thro' the young veins +Courses, and all is glad; yet knowing too +That innocence is young--before the soil +And smirch of sadder knowledge, settling on it, +Sully its primal whiteness. So they knelt +At my white shrines, the eager vigorous youths, +To whom life's road showed like a dewy field +In early summer dawns, when to the sound +Of youth's clear voice, and to the cheerful rush +Of the tumultuous feet and clamorous tongues +Careering onwards, fair and dappled fawns, +Strange birds with jewelled plumes, fierce spotted pards, +Rise in the joyous chase, to be caught and bound +By the young conqueror; nor yet the charm +Of sensual ease allures. And they knelt too, +The pure sweet maidens fair and fancy-free, +Whose innocent virgin hearts shrank from the touch +Of passion as from wrong--sweet moonlit lives +Which fade, and pale, and vanish, in the glare +Of Love's hot noontide: these came robed in white, +With holy hymns and soaring liturgies: +And so men fabled me, a huntress now, +Borne thro' the flying woodlands, fair and free; +And now the pale cold Moon, Light without warmth, +Zeal without touch of passion, heavenly love +For human, and the altar for the home. + + But oh, how sweet it was to take the love +And awe of my young worshippers; to watch +The pure young gaze and hear the pure young voice +Mount in the hymn, or see the gay troop come +With the first dawn of day, brushing the dew +From the unpolluted fields, and wake to song +The slumbering birds; strong in their innocence! +I did not envy any goddess of all +The Olympian company her votaries! +Ah, happy days of old which now are gone! +A memory and a dream! for now on earth +I rule no longer o'er young willing hearts +In voluntary fealty, which should cease +When Love, with fiery accents calling, woke +The slumbering soul; as now it should for those +Who kneel before the purer, sadder shrine +Which has replaced my own. But ah! too oft, +Not always, but too often, shut from life +Within pale life-long cloisters and the bars +Of deadly convent prisons, year by year, +Age after age, the white souls fade and pine +Which simulate the joyous service free +Of those young worshippers. I would that I +Might loose the captives' chain; or Herakles, +Who was a mortal once." + + + + + But he who stood +Colossal at my side: + "I toil no more +On earth, nor wield again the mighty strength +Which Zeus once gave me for the cure of ill. +I have run my race; I have done my work; I rest +For ever from the toilsome days I gave +To the suffering race of men. And yet, indeed, +Methinks they suffer still. Tyrannous growths +And monstrous vex them still. Pestilence lurks +And sweeps them down. Treacheries come, and wars, +And slay them still. Vaulting ambition leaps +And falls in bloodshed still. But I am here +At rest, and no man kneels to me, or keeps +Reverence for strength mighty yet unabused-- +Strength which is Power, God's choicest gift, more rare +And precious than all Beauty, or the charm +Of Wisdom, since it is the instrument +Thro' which all Nature works. For now the earth +Is full of meekness, and a new God rules, +Teaching strange precepts of humility +And mercy and forgiveness. Yet I trow +There is no lack of bloodshed and deceit +And groanings, and the tyrant works his wrong +Even as of old; but now there is no arm +Like mine, made strong by Zeus, to beat him down, +Him and his wrong together. Yet I know +I am not all discrowned. The strong brave souls, +The manly tender hearts, whom tale of wrong +To woman or child, to all weak things and small, +Fires like a blow; calling the righteous flush +Of anger to the brow; knotting the cords +Of muscle on the arm; with one desire +To hew the spoiler down, and make an end, +And go their way for others; making light +Of toil and pain, and too laborious days, +And peril; beat unchanged, albeit they serve +A Lord of meekness. For the world still needs +Its champion as of old, and finds him still. +Not always now with mighty sinews and thews +Like mine, though still these profit, but keen brain +And voice to move men's souls to love the right +And hate the wrong; even tho' the bodily form +Be weak, of giant strength, strong to assail +The hydra heads of Evil, and to slay +The monsters that now waste them: Ignorance, +Self-seeking, coward fears, the hate of Man, +Disguised as love of God. These there are still +With task as hard as mine. For what was it +To strive with bodily ills, and do great deeds +Of daring and of strength, and bear the crown, +To his who wages lifelong, doubtful strife +With an impalpable foe; conquering indeed, +But, ere he hears the paean or sees the pomp +Laid low in the arms of Death? And tho' men cease +To worship at my shrine, yet not the less +I hold, it is the toils I knew, the pains +I bore for others, which have kept the heart +Of manhood undefiled, and nerved the arm +Of sacrifice, and made the martyr strong +To do and bear, and taught the race of men +How godlike 'tis to suffer thro' life, and die +At last for others' good!" + The strong god ceased, +And stood a little, musing; blest indeed, +But bearing, as it seemed, some faintest trace +Of earthly struggle still, not the gay ease +Of the elder heaven-born gods. + + + + + And then there came +Beauty and Joy in one, bearing the form +Of woman. How to reach with halting words +That infinite Perfection? All have known +The breathing marbles which the Greek has left +Who saw her near, and strove to fix her charms, +And exquisitely failed; or those fair forms +The Painter offered at a later shrine, +And failed. Nay, what are words?--he knows it well +Who loves, or who has loved. + She with a smile +Playing around her rosy lips; as plays +The sunbeam on a stream: + "Shall I complain +Men kneel to me no longer, taking to them +Some graver, sterner worship; grown too wise +For fleeting joys of Love? Nay, Love is Youth, +And still the world is young. Still shall I reign +Within the hearts of men, while Time shall last +And Life renews itself. All Life that is, +From the weak things of earth or sea or air, +Which creep or float for an hour; to godlike man-- +All know me and are mine. I am the source +And mother of all, both gods and men; the spring +Of Force and Joy, which, penetrating all +Within the hidden depths of the Unknown, +Sets the blind seed of Being, and from the bond +Of incomplete and dual Essences +Evolves the harmony which is Life. The world +Were dead without my rays, who am the Light +Which vivifies the world. Nay, but for me, +The universal order which attracts +Sphere unto sphere, and keeps them in their paths +For ever, were no more. All things are bound +Within my golden chain, whose name is Love. + + And if there be, indeed, some sterner souls +Or sunk in too much learning, or hedged round +By care and greed, or haply too much rapt +By pale ascetic fervours, to delight +To kneel to me, the universal voice +Scorns them as those who, missing willingly +The good that Nature offers, dwell unblest +Who might be blest, but would not. Every voice +Of bard in every age has hymned me. All +The breathing marbles, all the heavenly hues +Of painting, praise me. Even the loveless shades +Of dim monastic cloisters show some gleam, +Tho' faint, of me. Amid the busy throngs +Of cities reign I, and o'er lonely plains, +Beyond the ice-fields of the frozen North, +And the warm waves of undiscovered seas. + + For I was born out of the sparkling foam +Which lights the crest of the blue mystic wave, +Stirred by the wandering breath of Life's pure dawn +From a young soul's calm depths. There, without voice, +Stretched on the breathing curve of a young breast, +Fluttering a little, fresh from the great deep +Of life, and creamy as the opening rose, +Naked I lie, naked yet unashamed, +While youth's warm tide steals round me with a kiss, +And floods each limb with fairness. Shame I know not-- +Shame is for wrong, and not for innocence-- +The veil which Error grasps to hide itself +From the awful Eye. But I, I lie unveiled +And unashamed--the livelong day I lie, +The warm wave murmuring to me; and, all night, +Hidden in the moonlit caves of happy Sleep, +I dream until the morning and am glad. + + Why should I seek to clothe myself, and hide +The treasure of my Beauty? Shame may wait +On those for whom 'twas given. The sties of sense +Are none of mine; the brutish, loveless wrong, +The venal charm, the simulated flush +Of fleshly passion, they are none of mine, +Only corruptions of me. Yet I know +The counterfeit the stronger, since gross souls +And brutish sway the earth; and yet I hold +That sense itself is sacred, and I deem +'Twere better to grow soft and sink in sense +Than gloat o'er blood and wrong. + My kingdom is +Over infinite grades of being. All breathing things, +From the least crawling insect to the brute, +From brute to man, confess me. Yet in man +I find my worthiest worship. Where man is, +A youth and a maid, a youth and a maid, nought else +Is wanting for my temple. Every clime +Kneels to me--the long breaker swells and falls +Under the palms, mixed with the merry noise +Of savage bridals, and the straight brown limbs +Know me, and over all the endless plains +I reign, and by the tents on the hot sand +And sea-girt isles am queen, and on the side +Of silent mountains, where the white cots gleam +Upon the green hill pastures, and no sound +But the thunder of the avalanche is borne +To the listening rocks around; and in fair lands +Where all is peace; where thro' the happy hush +Of tranquil summer evenings, 'mid the corn, +Or thro' cool arches of the gadding vines, +The lovers stray together hand in hand, +Hymning my praise; and by the stately streets +Of echoing cities--over all the earth, +Palace and cot, mountain and plain and sea, +The burning South, the icy North, the old +And immemorial East, the unbounded West, +No new god comes to spoil me utterly-- +All worship and are mine!" + With a sweet smile +Upon her rosy mouth, the goddess ceased; +And when she spake no more, the silence weighed +As heavy on my soul as when it takes +Some gracious melody, and leaves the ear +Unsatisfied and longing, till the fount +Of sweetness springs again. + + + + + But while I stood +Expectant, lo! a fair pale form drew near +With front severe, and wide blue eyes which bore +Mild wisdom in their gaze. Great purity +Shone from her--not the young-eyed innocence +Of her whom first I saw, but that which comes +From wider knowledge, which restrains the tide +Of passionate youth, and leads the musing soul +By the calm deeps of Wisdom. And I knew +My eyes had seen the fair, the virgin Queen, +Who once within her shining Parthenon +Beheld the sages kneel. + She with clear voice +And coldly sweet, yet with a softness too, +As doth befit a virgin: + "She does right +To boast her sway, my sister, seeing indeed +That all things are as by a double law, +And from a double root the tree of Life +Springs up to the face of heaven. Body and Soul, +Matter and Spirit, lower joys of Sense +And higher joys of Thought, I know that both +Build up the shrine of Being. The brute sense +Leaves man a brute; but, winged with soaring thought +Mounts to high heaven. The unembodied spirit, +Dwelling alone, unmated, void of sense, +Is impotent. And yet I hold there is, +Far off, but not too far for mortal reach, +A calmer height, where, nearer to the stars, +Thought sits alone and gazes with rapt gaze, +A large-eyed maiden in a robe of white. +Who brings the light of Knowledge down, and draws +To her pontifical eyes a bridge of gold, +Which spans from earth to heaven. + For what were life, +If things of sense were all, for those large souls +And high, which grudging Nature has shut fast +Within unlovely forms, or those from whom +The circuit of the rapid gliding years +Steals the brief gift of beauty? Shall we hold, +With idle singers, all the treasure of hope +Is lost with youth--swift-fleeting, treacherous youth, +Which fades and flies before the ripening brain +Crowns life with Wisdom's crown? Nay, even in youth, +Is it not more to walk upon the heights +Alone--the cold free heights--and mark the vale +Lie breathless in the glare, or hidden and blurred +By cloud and storm; or pestilence and war +Creep on with blood and death; while the soul dwells +Apart upon the peaks, outfronts the sun +As the eagle does, and takes the coming dawn +While all the vale is dark, and knows the springs +Of tiny rivulets hurrying from the snows, +Which soon shall swell to vast resistless floods, +And feed the Oceans which divide the World? + + Oh, ecstasy! oh, wonder! oh, delight! +Which neither the slow-withering wear of Time, +That takes all else--the smooth and rounded cheek +Of youth; the lightsome step; the warm young heart +Which beats for love or friend; the treasure of hope +Immeasurable; the quick-coursing blood +Which makes it joy to be,--ay, takes them all +And leaves us naught--nor yet satiety +Born of too full possession, takes or mars! +Oh, fair delight of learning! which grows great +And stronger and more keen, for slower limbs, +And dimmer eyes and loneliness, and loss +Of lower good--wealth, friendship, ay, and Love-- +When the swift soul, turning its weary gaze +From the old vanished joys, projects itself +Into the void and floats in empty space, +Striving to reach the mystic source of Things, +The secrets of the earth and sea and air, +The Law that holds the process of the suns, +The awful depths of Mind and Thought; the prime +Unfathomable mystery of God! + + Is there, then, any who holds my worship cold +And lifeless? Nay, but 'tis the light which cheers +The waning life! Love thou thy love, brave youth! +Cleave to thy love, fair maid! it is the Law +Which dominates the world, that bids ye use +Your nature; but, when now the fuller tide +Slackens a little, turn your calmer eyes +To the fair page of Knowledge. It is power +I give, and power is precious. It is strength +To live four-square, careless of outward shows, +And self-sufficing. It is clearer sight +To know the rule of life, the Eternal scheme; +And, knowing it, to do and not to err, +And, doing, to be blest." + The calm voice soared +Higher and higher to the close; the cold +Clear accents, fired as by a hidden fire, +Glowed into life and tenderness, and throbbed +As with some spiritual ecstasy +Sweeter than that of Love. + + + + + But as they died, +I heard an ampler voice; and looking, marked +A fair and gracious form. She seemed a Queen +Who ruled o'er gods and men; the majesty +Of perfect womanhood. No opening bud +Of beauty, but the full consummate flower +Was hers; and from her mild large eyes looked forth +Gentle command, and motherhood, and home, +And pure affection. Awe and reverence +O'erspread me, as I knew my eyes had looked +On sovereign Here, mother of the gods. + + She, with clear, rounded utterance, sweet and calm +"I know Love's fruit is good and fair to see +And taste, if any gain it, and I know +How brief Life's Passion-tide, which when it ends +May change to thirst for Knowledge, and I know +How fair the realm of Mind, wherein the soul +Thirsting to know, wings its impetuous way +Beyond the bounds of Thought; and yet I hold +There is a higher bliss than these, which fits +A mortal life, compact of Body and Soul, +And therefore double-natured--a calm path +Which lies before the feet, thro' common ways +And undistinguished crowds of toiling men, +And yet is hard to tread, tho' seeming smooth, +And yet, tho' level, earns a worthier crown. + + For Knowledge is a steep which few may climb, +While Duty is a path which all may tread. +And if the Soul of Life and Thought be this, +How best to speed the mighty scheme, which still +Fares onward day by day--the Life of the World, +Which is the sum of petty lives, that live +And die so this may live--how then shall each +Of that great multitude of faithful souls +Who walk not on the heights, fulfil himself, +But by the duteous Life which looks not forth +Beyond its narrow sphere, and finds its work, +And works it out; content, this done, to fall +And perish, if Fate will, so the great Scheme +Goes onward? + Wherefore am I Queen in Heaven +And Earth, whose realm is Duty, bearing rule +More constant and more wide than those whose words +Thou heardest last. Mine are the striving souls +Of fathers toiling day by day obscure +And unrewarded, save by their own hearts, +Mid wranglings of the Forum or the mart; +Who long for joys of Thought, and yet must toil +Unmurmuring thro' dull lives from youth to age; +Who haply might have worn instead the crown +Of Honour and of Fame: mine the fair mothers +Who, for the love of children and of home, +When passion dies, expend their toilful years +In loving labour sweetened by the sense +Of Duty: mine the statesman who toils on +Thro' vigilant nights and days, guiding his State. +Yet finds no gratitude; and those white souls +Who give themselves for others all their years +In trivial tasks of Pity. The fine growths +Of Man and Time are mine, and spend themselves +For me and for the mystical End which lies +Beyond their gaze and mine, and yet is good, +Tho' hidden from men and gods. + For as the flower +Of the tiger-lily bright with varied hues +Is for a day, then fades and leaves behind +Fairness nor fruit, while the green tiny tuft +Swells to the purple of the clustering grape +Or golden waves of wheat; so lives of men +Which show most splendid; fade and are deceased +And leave no trace; while those, unmarked, unseen, +Which no man recks of, rear the stately tree +Of Knowledge, not for itself sought out, but found +In the dusty ways of life--a fairer growth +Than springs in cloistered shades; and from the sum +Of Duty, blooms sweeter and more divine +The fair ideal of the Race, than comes +From glittering gains of Learning. + Life, full life, +Full-flowered, full-fruited, reared from homely earth, +Rooted in duty, and thro' long calm years +Bearing its load of healthful energies; +Stretching its arms on all sides; fed with dews +Of cheerful sacrifice, and clouds of care, +And rain of useful tears; warmed by the sun +Of calm affection, till it breathes itself +In perfume to the heavens--this is the prize +I hold most dear, more precious than the fruit +Of Knowledge or of Love." + The goddess ceased +As dies some gracious harmony, the child +Of wedded themes which single and alone +Were discords, but united breathe a sound +Sweet as the sounds of heaven. + + + + + And then stood forth +The last of the gods I saw, the first in rank +And dignity and beauty, the young god +Who grows not old, the Light of Heaven and Earth, +The Worker from afar, who sends the fire +Of inspiration to the bard and bathes +The world in hues of heaven--the golden link +Between High God and Man. + With a sweet voice +Whose every note was sweetest melody-- +The melody has fled, the words remain-- +Apollo sang: + "I know how fair the face +Of Purity; I know the treasure of Strength; +I know the charm of Love, the calmer grace +Of Wisdom and of Duteous well-spent lives: +And yet there is a loftier height than these. + + There is a Height higher than mortal thought; +There is a Love warmer than mortal love; +There is a Life which taketh not its hues +From Earth or earthly things; and so grows pure +And higher than the petty cares of men, +And is a blessed life and glorified. + + Oh, white young souls, strain upward, upward still, +Even to the heavenly source of Purity! +Brave hearts, bear on and suffer! Strike for right, +Strong arms, and hew down wrong! The world hath need +Of all of you--the sensual wrongful world! + + Hath need of you, and of thee too, fair Love. +Oh, lovers, cling together! the old world +Is full of Hate. Sweeten it; draw in one +Two separate chords of Life; and from the bond +Of twin souls lost in Harmony create +A Fair God dwelling with you--Love, the Lord! + + Waft yourselves, yearning souls, upon the stars; +Sow yourselves on the wandering winds of space; +Watch patient all your days, if your eyes take +Some dim, cold ray of Knowledge. The dull world +Hath need of you--the purblind, slothful world! + + Live on, brave lives, chained to the narrow round +Of Duty; live, expend yourselves, and make +The orb of Being wheel onward steadfastly +Upon its path--the Lord of Life alone +Knows to what goal of Good; work on, live on: +And yet there is a higher work than yours. + + To have looked upon the face of the Unknown +And Perfect Beauty. To have heard the voice +Of Godhead in the winds and in the seas. +To have known Him in the circling of the suns, +And in the changeful fates and lives of men. + + To be fulfilled with Godhead as a cup +Filled with a precious essence, till the hand +On marble or on canvas falling, leaves +Celestial traces, or from reed or string +Draws out faint echoes of the voice Divine +That bring God nearer to a faithless world. + + Or, higher still and fairer and more blest, +To be His seer, His prophet; to be the voice +Of the Ineffable Word; to be the glass +Of the Ineffable Light, and bring them down +To bless the earth, set in a shrine of Song. + + For Knowledge is a barren tree and bare, +Bereft of God, and Duty but a word, +And Strength but Tyranny, and Love, Desire, +And Purity a folly; and the Soul, +Which brings down God to Man, the Light to the world; +He is the Maker, and is blest, is blest!" + + He ended, and I felt my soul grow faint +With too much sweetness. + In a mist of grace +They faded, that bright company, and seemed +To melt into each other and shape themselves +Into new forms, and those fair goddesses +Blent in a perfect woman--all the calm +High motherhood of Here, the sweet smile +Of Cypris, fair Athene's earnest eyes, +And the young purity of Artemis, +Blent in a perfect woman; and in her arms, +Fused by some cosmic interlacing curves +Of Beauty into a new Innocence, +A child with eyes divine, a little child, +A little child--no more. + And those great gods +Of Power and Beauty left a heavenly form +Strong not to act, but suffer; fair and meek, +Not proud and eager; with soft eyes of grace, +Not bold with joyous youth; and for the fire +Of song, and for the happy careless life, +A sorrowful pilgrimage--changed, yet the same +Only Diviner far; and keeping still +The Life God-lighted and the sacrifice. + + And when these faded wholly, at my side, +Tho' hidden before by those too-radiant forms, +I was aware once more of her, my guide +Psyche, who had not left me, floating near +On golden wings; and all the plains of heaven +Were left to us, me and my soul alone. + + Then when my thought revived again, I said +Whispering, "But Zeus I saw not, the prime Source +And Sire of all the gods." + And she, bent low +With downcast eyes: "Nay. Thou hast seen of Him +All that thine eyes can bear, in those fair forms +Which are but parts of Him and are indeed +Attributes of the Substance which supports +The Universe of Things--the Soul of the World, +The Stream which flows Eternal, from no Source +Into no Sea, His Purity, His Strength, +His Love, His Knowledge, His unchanging rule +Of Duty, thou hast seen, only a part +And not the whole, being a finite mind +Too weak for infinite thought; nor, couldst thou see +All of Him visible to mortal sight, +Wouldst thou see all His essence, since the gods-- +Glorified essences of Human mould, +Who are but Zeus made visible to men-- +See Him not wholly, only some thin edge +And halo of His glory; nor know they +What vast and unsuspected Universes +Lie beyond thought, where yet He rules, like those +Vast Suns we cannot see, round which our Sun +Moves with his system, or those darker still +Which not even thus we know, but yet exist +Tho' no eye marks, nor thought itself, and lurk +In the awful Depths of Space; or that which is +Not orbed as yet, but indiscrete, confused, +Sown thro' the void--the faintest gleam of light +Which sets itself to Be. And yet is He +There too, and rules, none seeing. But sometimes +To this our heaven, which is so like to earth +But nearer to Him, for awhile He shows +Some gleam of His own brightness, and methinks +It cometh soon; but thou, if thou shouldst gaze, +Thy Life will rush to His--the tiny spark +Absorbed in that full blaze--and what there is +Of mortal fall from thee." + But I: "Oh, soul, +What holdeth Life more precious than to know +The Giver and to die?" + Then she: "Behold! +Look upward and adore." + And with the word, +Unhasting, undelaying, gradual, sure, +The floating cloud which clothed the hidden peak +Rose slow in awful silence, laying bare +Spire after rocky spire, snow after snow, +Whiter and yet more dreadful, till at last +It left the summit clear. + Then with a bound, +In the twinkling of an eye, in the flash of a thought, +I knew an Awful Effluence of Light, +Formless, Ineffable, Perfect, burst on me +And flood my being round, and take my life +Into itself. I saw my guide bent down +Prostrate, her wings before her face; and then +No more. + + + + + But when I woke from my long trance +Behold, it was no longer Tartarus, +Nor Hades, nor Olympus, but the bare +And unideal aspect of the fields +Which Spring not yet had kissed--the strange old Earth +So far more fabulous now than in the days +When Man was young, nor yet the mystery +Of Time and Fate transformed it. From the hills, +The long night fled at last, the unclouded sun, +The dear, fair sun, leapt upward swift, and smote +My sight with rays of gold, and pierced my brain +With too much light ere my entranced eyes +Could hide themselves. + And I was on the Earth +Dreaming the dream of Life again, as late +I dreamed the dream of Death. + Another day +Dawned on the race of men; another world; +New heavens, and new earth. + + + + + And as I went +Across the lightening fields, upon a bank +I saw a single snowdrop glance, and bring +Promise of Spring; and keeping my old thought +In the old fair Hellenic vesture dressed, +I felt myself a ghost, and seemed to be +Now fair Adonis hasting to the arms +Of his lost love--now sad Persephone +Restored to mother earth--or that high shade +Orpheus, who gave up heaven to save his love, +And is rewarded--or young Marsyas, +Who spent his youth and life for song, and yet +Was happy though in torture--or the fair +And dreaming youth I saw, who still awaits, +Hopeful, the unveiling heaven, when he shall see +His fair ideal love. The birds sang blithe; +There came a tinkling from the waking fold; +And on the hillside from the cot a girl +Tripped singing with her pitcher. All the sounds +And thoughts which still are beautiful--Youth, Song, +Dawn, Spring, Renewal--and my soul was glad +Of all the freshness, and I felt again +The youth and spring-tide of the world, and thought, +Which feigned those fair and gracious fantasies. + + For every dawn that breaks brings a new world, +And every budding bosom a new life; +These fair tales, which we know so beautiful, +Show only finer than our lives to-day +Because their voice was clearer, and they found +A sacred bard to sing them. We are pent, +Who sing to-day, by all the garnered wealth +Of ages of past song. We have no more +The world to choose from, who, where'er we turn, +Tread through old thoughts and fair. Yet must we sing-- +We have no choice; and if more hard the toil +In noon, when all is clear, than in the fresh +White mists of early morn, yet do we find +Achievement its own guerdon, and at last +The rounder song of manhood grows more sweet +Than the high note of youth. + For Age, long Age! +Nought else divides us from the fresh young days +Which men call ancient; seeing that we in turn +Shall one day be Time's ancients, and inspire +The wiser, higher race, which yet shall sing +Because to sing is human, and high thought +Grows rhythmic ere its close. Nought else there is +But that weird beat of Time, which doth disjoin +To-day from Hellas. + How should any hold +Those precious scriptures only old-world tales +Of strange impossible torments and false gods; +Of men and monsters in some brainless dream, +Coherent, yet unmeaning, linked together +By some false skein of song? + Nay! evermore, +All things and thoughts, both new and old, are writ +Upon the unchanging human heart and soul. +Has Passion still no prisoners? Pine there now +No lives which fierce Love, sinking into Lust, +Has drowned at last in tears and blood--plunged down +To the lowest depths of Hell? Have not strong Will +And high Ambition rotted into Greed +And Wrong, for any, as of old, and whelmed +The struggling soul in ruin? Hell lies near +Around us as does Heaven, and in the World, +Which is our Hades, still the chequered souls +Compact of good and ill--not all accurst +Nor altogether blest--a few brief years +Travel the little journey of their lives, +They know not to what end. The weary woman +Sunk deep in ease and sated with her life, +Much loved and yet unloving, pines to-day +As Helen; still the poet strives and sings. +And hears Apollo's music, and grows dumb, +And suffers, yet is happy; still the young +Fond dreamer seeks his high ideal love, +And finds her name is Death; still doth the fair +And innocent life, bound naked to the rock, +Redeem the race; still the gay tempter goes +And leaves his victim, stone; still doth pain bind +Men's souls in closer links of lovingness, +Than Death itself can sever; still the sight +Of too great beauty blinds us, and we lose +The sense of earthly splendours, gaining Heaven. + + And still the skies are opened as of old +To the entranced gaze, ay, nearer far +And brighter than of yore; and Might is there, +And Infinite Purity is there, and high +Eternal Wisdom, and the calm clear face +Of Duty, and a higher, stronger Love +And Light in one, and a new, reverend Name, +Greater than any and combining all; +And over all, veiled with a veil of cloud, +God set far off, too bright for mortal eyes. + + And always, always, with each soul that comes +And goes, comes that fair form which was my guide, +Hovering, with golden wings and eyes divine, +Above the bed of birth, the bed of death, +Still breathing heavenly airs of deathless love. + + For while a youth is lost in soaring thought, +And while a maid grows sweet and beautiful, +And while a spring-tide coming lights the earth, +And while a child, and while a flower is born, +And while one wrong cries for redress and finds +A soul to answer, still the world is young! + + + + + THE END. + + + + + Footnotes: + [1] Euripides, "Hippolytus," lines 70-78. + [2] Virgil, "AEneid," vi. 740. + [3] See the Orphic Hymns. + + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + [Transcriber's Notes: + This text is hemistichia, in that the end of one stanza + is vertically aligned with the start of the next stanza. + Inconsistent Hyphenation and text retained.] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Epic of Hades, by Lewis Morris + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE EPIC OF HADES *** + +***** This file should be named 38011.txt or 38011.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/0/1/38011/ + +Produced by Paul Murray, Rory OConor and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +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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