\l^SH(^l /1oi^, PR 4872.H47'l859''""*' '"''"^ ^ Mm?iS;™S!,K.?I Savage Landor , 3 1924 013 495 548 Cornell University Library The original of tiiis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 3495548 THE HELLENICS OP WALTEE SAVAGE LANDOE; C03IPBISIXQ HEEOIC IDYLS, &. NEW EDITION, ENLARGED. EDINBURGH: JAMES NICHOL, 104 HIGH STKEET. LONDON : R. GEIFFIN AND CO. U.DCCO.LIX. BDDreusaH : \ PSIHTES BY BALLAHTTHE ATSD OpiOliSY, FAUL'B WOBK. TO GENEEAL SIE W. NAPIEK. My Dbah Gbkeral, I do not ask permission to dedicate tliis volume to you : I did not entreat the same liberty of Kossuth. You are the two men I venerate the most among the living. The prime glory of my life is your friendship. This life of mine is drawing to a close, and friendship must end with it. Your incurable and tormenting wounds, endured for half a century, leave to you a date not much longer. But your writings will endure when mine have perished, and you will be remembered as the most impartial as well as the most animated of England's Historians. No family on earth, modem or ancient, has produced so great a number of illus- trious men, in literature, science, and war, as the family of Napier ; none in aU its branches so iU requited. One of it could have saved India ; an- other can only adorn England. An illustrious man ordered it to be inscribed on his monument, that he was the friend of Sir Philip Sidney ; an obscurer one can but leave this brief memorial that he was the friend of Sir WUUam Napier. PEEFACE. Prefixing a preface is like keeping an invited Mend at the hall-door, instead of conducting him at once into the house. Little in these pages will gratify the generality of readers. Poetry, ia our day, is offcener prismatic than diaphanous : this is not so : they who look into it may see through. If there be anywhere a few small air-bubbles, it yet leaves to the clear vision a wide expanse of varied scenery. Come back, ye ■wandering Muses, come back home, Ye seem to have forgotten where it lies : Come, let us walk upon the silent sands Of Simois, where deep footmarks show long strides; Thence we may moimt perhaps to higher ground, Where Aphroditfe from Athen^ won The golden apple, and from Herfe too, And happy Ares shouted far below. Or would ye rather choose the grassy vale Where flows Anapos thro anemones, Hyacynths, and narcissuses, that bend To show their rival beauty in the stream 1 Bring with you each her lyre, and each in turn Temper a graver with a lighter song. CONTENTS. The * indicates the Poems which are reprints from the published works of the author : the others are either new, or have been re- . written. PAGE *THBAaTMEDES AND EUNOE, 1 *COEINlf A TO TANAGRA, 5 *iITETIS, 7 *AT.ETHEIA TO PHKAORTES, . 8 HOMEB AND LAEETES, . 11 *THEKON AND ZOE, 14 iBSCHYLOS AND SOPHOCLES, . 20 *DAM^TAS AND IDA, 22 *HTPEBBION, .... 24 *ALCIPHEON AND LEUCIPPE, . 26 MELITON AND -LILT, 28 *ICARIOS AND EMGONE, 30 THE BOYS OP VBNTJS, 35 *THE HAMADRYAD, 40 DEYOPE, 52 COEESUS AND.OALUEHOE, 67 CATILLUS AND SALTA, . 64 *ENALLOS AND.CYMODAMEIA, . 74 PAN AND PITYS, .... 82 CUPID AND PAN, .... 87 *PEAYEB OF THE BEES TO ALCIPHRON, 92 *EUEOPA AND HEE MOTHEE, . 94 *GEB1R, 97 *THE DEATH OF ARTEMIDOEA, 104 CONTENTS. PAOB *CHKYSAOR, 105 *LYSAlsrDEE, ALCANOR, AND PHANOE, . . . .112 LACON AND DORA, 115 ACON AND KEPOS, 117 LEONTION, ON TERNISSA's DEATH (EPICUROS ALSO DEPARTED), 118 HYMN AND OFFERING OP TERPANDER TO JUNO, . . 120 SOPHKON'S hymn TO BAKKOS, 122 *DRIMACOS, 124 PINDAR AND HIERO, ....... 129 *T0 CORINTH, 133 *CLE0NE TO ASPASIA, 135 PTOLEMY AND THEOCRITOS, .136 'ODE TO MILETUS, . 139 THE FAMINE IN ETRURIA, 142 THE ALTAR OF MODESTY, 145 ^HIGENEIA AND AGAMEMlfON, . . . .156 PENELOPE AND PHEIDO, 158 *ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA, . . . .162 CORYTHOS, . . . " 174 coRYTHos (second part), .184 PELEUS AND THETIS, .187 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA, . .' . . .193 DEATH OF PARIS AND CENONE, 201 *MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TRpY, . . . . 208 *ORESTES AND EH;CTRA, 215 MADNESS OF ORESTES, 218 PRAYER OF ORESTES, 221 PRIESTESS OF APOLLO, 222 DEATH OP ORESTES, 223 IE SHADES OP AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA, . . 224 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS, .... 234 CONTENTS. XI APPENDIX. PAGE APPENDIX, . 247 MARCUS AUREUUS AND LUCIAN, 251 ON THE DESCENT INTO HELL OP EZZELINO DI NAPOU, . 257 ON LADY CHARLES BEAUCLERC'S DEATH, . . . .259 ON THE CONFLAGRATION OF THE PO, . . . . 260 BLESSING ON PYTHAGORAS, 261 A POET LEAVING ATHENS, 262 DE LIBERTATE, ........ 263 AD ROMAM PERICLITANTEM, 264 AD LIBERTATEM, 265 AD HEROINAM, 267 PRECES PRO SALUTE REGIS QUI MORBO PEDICULARI LABORAT, 270 AD PONTIPICEM, 271 AD REGEM SARDINIA, 272 NOTES, 273 ADDITIONS AND COEEECTIONS, . . .275 IDYLS, HELLENIC, ETC. THEASYMEDES AND EUNOE. Who will away to Athens with me 1 who Loves choral songs and maidens crown'd with flowers, Unenvious 1 mount the pinnace ; hoist the sail. I promise ye, as many as are here. Ye shall not, while ye tarry with me, taste From unrinsed barrel the diluted wine Of a low vineyard or a plant ill-pruned. But such as anciently the -^gaean iles Pour'd in libation at their solemn feasts : And the same goblets shall ye grasp, embost With no vile figures of loose languid boors, But such as Gods have lived with and have led. The sea smiles bright before us. What white sail Plays yonder ? what pursues it ? Like two hawks Away they fly. Let us away in time To overtake them. Are they menaces We hear 1 And shall the strong repulse the weak, Enraged at her defender 'i Hippias ! Art thou the man ? 'Twas Hippias. He had found His sister borne from the Cecropian port By Thrasymedes. And reluctantly? Ask, ask the maiden ; I have no reply. A 2 THKASYMEDES AND EUNOE. " Brother ! brother Hippias ! 0, if love, If pity, ever tbucht thy breast, forbear ! Strike not the brave, the gentle, the beloved, My Thrasymedes, with his cloak alone Protecting his own head and mine from harm." " Didst thou not once before," cried Hippias, Eegardless of his sister, hoarse with wrath At Thrasymedes, " didst not thou, dog-eyed, Dare, as she walkt up to the Parthenon, On the most holy of all holy days. In sight of all the city, dare to kiss Her maiden cheek ? " " Ay, before all the Gods, Ay, before Pallas, before Artemis,^ Ay, before Aphrodite, before Hera, I dared ; and dare again. Arise, my spouse ! Arise ! and let my lips quaff purity From thy fair open brow." The sword was up, And yet he kist her twice. Some God withheld The arm of Hippias ; his proud blood seeth'd slower And smote his breast less angrily ; he laid His hand on the white shoulder, and spake thus : " Ye must return with me. A second time Offended, will our sire Pisistratos Pardon the affront 1 Thou shouldst have askt thy- self This question ere the sail first flapt the mast." " Already thou hast taken Hfe from me ; Put up thy sword," said the sad youth, his eyes Sparkling ; but whether love or rage or grief They sparkled with, the Gods alone could see. THRASYMEDES AND EUNOE. .1 Piraj^s they re-entered, and their ship Drove up the little waves against the quay, Whence was thrown out a rope from one above, And Hippias caught it. From the virgin's waist Her lover dropt his arm, and blusht to think He had retain'd it there in sight of rude Irreverent men : he led her forth, nor spake. Hippias walkt silent too, until they reacht The mansion of Pisistratos her sire. Serenely in his sternness did the prince Look on them both awhile : they saw not him. For both had cast their eyes upon the ground. " Are these the pirates thou hast taken, son 1 " Said he. " Worse, father ! worse than pirates they. Who thus abuse thy patience, thus abuse Thy pardon, thus abuse the holy rites Twice over." " Well hast thou performed thy duty," Firmly and gravely said Pisistratos. " Nothing then, rash young man ! could turn thy heart From Eunoe, my daughter ? " " Nothing, sir, Shall ever turn it. I can die but once And love but once. Eunoe ! farewell ! " " Nay, she shall see what thou canst bear for her." " father ! shut me in my chamber, shut me In my poor mother's tomb, dead or alive. But never let me see what he can bear ; I know how much that is, when borne for me." " Not yet : come on. And lag not thou behind, Pirate of virgin and of princely hearts ! 4 THEASYMEDES AND EUNOE. Before the people and before the Goddess Thou hadst evinced the madness of thy passion, And now wouldst bear from home and plenteousness To poverty and exile this my child." Then shuddered Thrasymedes, and exclaim'd, " I see my crime ; I saw it not before. The daughter of Pisistratos was born Neither for exile nor for poverty, Ah ! nor for me ! " He would have wept, but one Might see him, and weep worse. The prince un- moved Strode on, and said, " To-morrow shall the people All who beheld thy trespasses, behold The justice of Pisistratos, the love He bears his daughter, and the reverence In which he holds the highest law of God." He spake ; and on the morrow they were one. CORINNA TO TANAGRA. COEINNA TO TANAGEA. FROM ATHENS. Tanagea ! think not I forget Thy beautifully-storied streets ; Be sure my memory bathes yet In clear Thermodon, and yet greets The blithe and liberal shepherd-boy. Whose sunny bosom swells with joy When we accept his matted mshes UpheaVd with sylvan fruit ; aw^ay he bounds, and blushes. A gift I promise : one I see Which thou with transport wilt receive, The only proper gift for thee, Of which no mortal shall bereave In later times thy mouldering walls, Until the last old turret faUs ; A crown, a crown from Athens won, A crown no God can wear beside Latona's son. There may be cities who refuse To their own child the honours due. And look ungently on the Muse ; But ever shall those cities rue The dry, unyielding, niggard breast, Offering no nourishment, no rest, To that young head which soon shall rise Disdainfully, in might and glory, to the skies. b CORINNA TO TANAGRA, Sweetly where cavern'd Dirce flows Do white-arm'd maidens chaunt my lay. Flapping the while with laurel-rose The honey-gathering tribes away ; And sweetly, sweetly Attic tongues Lisp your Corinna's early songs ; To her with feet more graceful come The verses that have dwelt in kindred breasts at home. let thy children lean aslant Against the tender mother's knee, And gaze into her face, and want To know what; magic there can be In words that urge some eyes to dance, "While others as in holy trance Look up to heaven : be such my praise ! Why linger 1 I must haste, or lose the Delphic bays. MYKTIS. MYETIS. Friends, whom she lookt at blandly from her couch And her white wrist above it, gem-bedewed. Were arguing with Pentheusa : she had heard Report of Creon's death, whom years before She listened to, well-pleas'd ; and sighs arose ; For sighs full often fondle with reproofs And will be fondled by them. When I came After the rest to visit her, she said, " Myrtis ! how kind ! Who better knows than thou The pangs of love 1 and my first love was he ! " Tell me (if ever, Eros ! are reveal'd Thy secrets to the earth) have they been true To any love who speak about the first 1 What ! shall these holier lights, like twinkling stars In the few hours assign'd them, change their place. And, when comes ampler splendour, disappear 1 Idler I am, and pardon, not reply, Implore from thee, thus questioned ; well I know Thou strikest, like Olympian Jove, but once. 8 ALETHBIA TO PHKAOKTES. ALETHEIA TO PHEAOETES. AFTER THE SACKAGE OF MILETOS. Pheaoetes ! where art thou ? The flames were panting after us, their darts Had pierced to many hearts Before the Gods, who heard nor prayer nor vow ; Temples had sunk to earth, and other smoke O'er riven altars broke Than curled from m3T:rh and nard. When like a God among Arm'd hosts and unarm'd throng Thee I discem'd, implored, and caught one brief re- gard. Thou passest : from thy side Sudden two bowmen ride And hurry me away. Thou and aU hope were gone . . They loost me . . and alone In a closed tent 'mid gory arms I lay. How did my tears then burn When, dreading thy return, Behold thee reappear ! Nor helm nor sword nor spear . . In violet gold-hemm'd vest Thou camest forth ; too soon ! Fallen at thy feet, claspt to thy breast, I struggle, sob, and swoon. ALETHEIA TO PHRAOETES. " send me to my mother ! bid her come, And take my last farewell ! One blow ! . . enough for both . . one tomb 'Tis there our happy dwell." Thou orderest : call'd and gone At once they are who breathe for thy command. Thou stoodest nigh me, soothing every moan, And pressing in both thine my hand, Then, and then only, when it tore My hair to hide my face ; And gently did thy own bend o'er The abject head war-doomed to dire disgrace. Ionian was thy tongue. And when thou badest me to raise That head, nor fear in aught thy gaze, T dared look up . . but dared not long. " Wait, maiden, wait ! if none are here Bearing a charm to charm a tear, There may (who knows ■?) be found at last Some solace for the sorrow past." My mother, ere the sounds had ceast. Burst in, and drew me down : Her joy o'erpowered us both, her breast Covered lost friends and ruin'd town^ Sweet thought ! but yielding now To many harsher ! By what blow 10 ALETHEIA TO PHKAOKTES. Art thou dissevered from me ? War, That hath career'd too far, Closeth his pinions. " Come, Phraortes, come To thy fond friends at home ! " Thus beckons Love. Away then, wishes wild ! may thy mother be as blest As one whose eyes wiU sink to rest Blessing thee for her rescued child ! Ungenerous stU my heart must be : Throughout the young and festive train Which thou revisitest again May none be happier (this I fear) than she ! HOMER AND LAERTES, 1 1 HOMEE AND LAEETES* LAERTES. Gods help thee ! and restore to thee thy sight ! My good old guest, I am more old than thou. Yet have outlived by many years my son Odysseus and the chaste Penelope. HOMER. Hither I come to visit thee and sing His wanderings and his wisdom, tho my voice Be not the voice it was. LAERTES. First let us taste My old sound wine, and break my bread less old, But old enough for teeth like thine and mine. HOMER. So be it ! I sing best when such good cheer Eefreshes me, and such a friend as thou. LAERTES. Far hast thou wandered since we met, and told Strange stories. Wert thou not afraid some God * Poets are not bound to chronology. About Homer and Laertes as little is known as about Polyphemos and Calypso. To the glory of God, let us believe that He created a Homer one and indivisible : we know he created a Shakespeare. After this he rested from his labour a hundred years : then he called to Him the nearest of the Angels, made a model, breathed his own spirit into it, and called it Milton. 1 2 HOMER AND LAERTES. Or Goddess should have siez'd upon thy ear For talking what thou toldest of their pranks. HOMER. They often came about me while I slept And brought me dreams, none painful, none profane ; They loved thy son, and for his sake loved me. LAERTES. Apollo, I well know, was much thy friend. HOMER. He did not treat me quite as Marsyas Was treated by him : lest he should, I sang His praise in my best chaimt : for Gods love praise. LAERTES. Have they enricht thee 1 for I see thy cloak Is ragged. HOMER. Eagged cloak is poet's garb. LAERTES. I have two better ; one of them for thee. Penelope, who died five years ago, Spun it ; her husband wore it only once And but one year, the anniversary Of their espousal. HOMER. Wear it wiU I not. But I will hang it on the brightest nail HOMER AND LAEETES. 13 Of the first temple where Apollo sits, Golden-hair'd, in his glory. LAEETES. So thou shalt If so it please thee : yet we first wUl quaff The gift of Bakkos, for methinks his gifts Are quite as welcome to the sons of song And cheer them oftener. {Girl enters.) Maiden ! come thou nigh And sit thee down, and thou shalt hear a song After a while which Gods may listen to ; But place the flask upon the board and wait Until the stranger hath allaid his thirst, For poets, grasshoppers, and nightingales Sing cheerily but when the throat is moist. 14 THERON AND ZOE. THBRON AND ZOE. ZOE. Changed ? very true, Theron, I am changed. THEEON. It would at least have been as merciful To hold a moment back from me the briar You let recoil thus sharply on my breast. Not long ago, not very long, you own'd With maiden blushes, which became your brow Better than corn-flower, or that periwinkle Trained round it by a very careful hand, A long while trimming it (no doubt) and proud Of making its blue blossom laugh at me. ZOE, I could laugh too. What did I own 1 It seems (It was so little) you have quite forgot. THERON. That, since we sate together day by day, And walkt together, sang together, none Of earliest, gentlest, fondest, maiden friends Loved you as formerly. If one remain'd Dearer to you than any of the rest. You could not wish her greater happiness . . ZOE. Than what ? THEEON AND ZOE. 1 5 THEEON. I think you never could have said it . . I must have dreamt it . . ZOE. Tell me then your dream. THEEON. I thought you said . . nay, I wiU swear you said . . More than one heard it . . that you could not wish The nearest to your heart more perfect joy Than Theron's love. ZOE. Did I? THEEON. The Gods in heaven Are witnesses, no less than woodland Gods, That you did say it. how changed ! no word, No look, for Theron now ! ZOE. Girls often say More than they mean : men always do. THEEON. By Pan ! Who punishes with restless nights the false, Hurling the sleeper down the precipice Into the roaring gulph, or letting loose Hounds, wolves, and tigers after him, his legs 1 6 THEE ON AND ZOE. Meanwhile tied not quite close, but just apart, In withy bands . . by him I swear, my tongue, Zoe ! can never utter half my love. Eetract not one fond word. ZOE. I must retract The whole of those. THEEON. And leave me most unblest ! ZOE. I know not. THEKON. Heed not, rather say. Farewell. ZOE. Farewell. I will not call you back again. Go, Theron ! hatred soon will sear your wound. THEKON. Falsehood I hate : I can not hate the false. ZOE. Never 1 Then scorn her. THEEON. I can scorn myself, And will ; for others are preferr'd to me ; The untried to the tried. THERON AND ZOE. 1 7 ZOE. You said farewell. THEEON. Again I say it. ZOE. Now I can believe That you, repeating it, indeed are gone. Yet seem you standing where you stood before. Hath Pan done this 1 Pan, who doth such strange things. THERON. Laugh me to scorn : derision I deserve : But let that smile . . let it be less sweet ! Sorrowful let me part, but not insane. ZOE. I know some words that charm insanity Before it can take hold. THERON. Speak them ; for now Are they most wanted. ZOK I did say, 'tis true, If on this solid earth friend dear enough Eemain'd to me, that Theron is the youth I would desire to bless her. B 6 1 8 THERON AND ZOE. THERON. To avoid My importunity ; to hear no more The broken words that spoilt our mutual song, The sobs that choakt my flute, the humidity (Not from the lip) that gurgled on the stops. ZOE, I would avoid them aU ; they troubled me. THERON. Now then, farewell. ZOE. I will do all the harm I can to any girl who hopes to love you ; Nor shall you have her. THERON. Vain and idle threat ! ZOE. So, Theron ! you would love then once again ? THERON. Never ; were love as possible and easy . . . ZOE. As what ? THEEON. As death. THERON AND ZOE. 19 ZOE. Theron ! once indeed I said the words which then so flatter'd you, And now so pain you. Long before my friends Left me through envy of your fondness for me, No, not the dearest of them could I bear To see beloved by you. False words I spake, Not knowing then how false they were. THERON. Speak now One that shall drown them all. ZOE. My voice is gone. Why did you kiss me . . if you wisht to hear it ? 20 ^SCHYLOS AND SOPHOCLES. ^SCHYLOS AND SOPHOCLES. SOPHOCLES. Thou goest then, and leavest none behind Worthy to rival thee ! ^SCHYLOS. ' Nay, say not so. Whose is the hand that now is pressing mine 1 A hand I may not ever press again ! What glorious forms hath it brought boldly forth From Pluto's realm ! The blind old (Edipos Was led on one side by Antigone, Sophocles propt the other. SOPHOCLES. Sophocles Sooth'd not Prometheus chaind upon his rock, Keeping the vultures and the Gods away ; Sophocles is not greater than the chief Who conquered lUon, nor could he revenge His murder, or stamp everlasting brand Upon the brow of that adulterous wife. .lESCHYLOS. Live, and do more. Thine is the Lemnian ile. And thou hast placed the arrows in the hand Of Philoctetes, hast assuaged his wounds And given his aid without which Grreece had fail'd. ^SCHYLOS AND SOPHOCLES. 21 SOPHOCLES, I did indeed drive off the pest of flies ; We also have our pest of them which buz About our honey, darken it, and sting ; We laugh at them, for under hands like ours, Without the wing that Philoctetes shook, One single feather crushes the whole swarm. I must be grave. Hath Sicily such charms Above our Athens 1 Many charms hath she. But she hath kings. Accursed be the race ! ^SCHYLOS. But where kings honor better men than they Let kings be honored too. The laurel crown Surmounts the golden ; wear it, and farewell. 22 "daM^TAS AND IDA. DAMiETAS AOT) IDA. Dam^tas is a boy as rude As ever broke maid's solitude. He -watcbt tbe little Ida going Where the wood-raspberries were groynug, And, under a pretence of fear Lest they might scratch her arms, drew near. And, plucking up a stiflf grey bent. The fruit (scarce touching it,) he sent Into both hands : the form they took Of a boat's keel upon a brook ; So not a raspberry fell down To splash her foot or stain her gown. When it was over, for his pains She let his lips do off the stains That were upon two fingers ; he At first kist two, and then kist three. And, to be certain every stain Had vanisht, kist them o'er again. At last the boy, quite shameless, said " See ! I have taken out the red ! Now where there 's redder richer fruit Pray, my sweet Ida, let me do 't." " Audacious creature ! " she cried out, " What in the world are you about 1 " He had not taken off the red AH over ; on both cheeks 'twas spred; And the two lips that should be white With fear, if not with fear, with spite At such ill usage, never show'd More comely, or more deeply glow'd. DAM^TAS AND IDA. 23 Damaetas fancied he could move The girl to listen to his love : Not he indeed. DAM^TAS. For pity's sake ! IDA. Go ; never more come nigh this brake. DAM^TAS. Must I, why must I, press in vain ? IDA. Because I hate you. DAM^TAS. Think again. Think better of it, cruel maid ! IDA. Well then . . because I am afraid. DAMiETAS. Look round us : nobody is near. IDA. AU the more reason for my fear. DAM^TAS. Hatred is overcome by you. And Fear can be no match for two. 24 HYPERBION". HYPERBION. Hyperbion was among the chosen few Of Phoebus ; and men honored him awhile, Honoring in him the God. But others sang As loudly ; and the boys as loudly cheer'd. Hyperbion (more than bard should be) was wroth. And thus he spake to Phoebus : " Hearest thou, Phoebus ! the rude rabble from the field, Who swear that they have known thee ever since Thou feddest for Admetos his white bull 1 " " I hear them," said the God. " Seize thou the first And haul him up above the heads of men, And thou shalt hear them shout for thee as pleas'd." Headstrong and proud Hj^erbion was : the crown Of laurel on it badly cool'd his brow : So, when he heard them singing at his gate. While some with flints cut there the rival's name, Eushing he seiz'd the songster at their head : The songster kickt and struggled hard ; in vain. Hyperbion claspt him round with arm robust. And with the left a hempen rope imcoU'd, Whereon already was a noose : it held The calf until the mother's teat was drawn At mom and eve ; and both were now afield. With all his strength he puU'd the wretch along. And haul'd him up a pine-tree where he died. But one night, not long after, in his sleep He saw the songster : then did he beseech Apollo to enlighten him, if perchance In what he did he had done aught amiss. " Thou hast done well, Hyperbion ! " said the God, HYPERBION. 25 " As I did also to one Marsyas Some years ere thou wert bom : but better 'twere If thou hadst understood my words arigbt. For those around may harm thee, and assign As reason that thou wentest past the law. My meaning was that thou shouldst hold him up In the high places of thy mind, and show Thyself the greater by enduring him." Downcast Hyperbion stood : but Phoebus said " Be of good cheer, Hyperbion ! if the rope Is not so frayed but it may hold thy calf, The greatest harm is that by hauling him Thou hast chafed, sorely, sorely, that old pine ; And pine-tree bark will never close again.'' 26 ALCIPHEON AND LEUCIPPE. ALCIPHEON AND LEUCIPPE. An ancient chestnut's blossoms threw Their heavy odour over two : Leucippe, it is said, was one, The other then was Alciphron. " Come, come ! why should we stand beneath This hollow tree's unwholesome breath," Said Alciphron, " here's not a blade Of grass or moss, and scanty shade. Come ; it is just the hour to rove In the lone dingle shepherds love. There, straight and tall^ the hazel twig Divides the crooked rock-held fig. O'er the blue pebbles where the rill In winter runs, and may run stU. Come then, while fresh and calm the air, And while the shepherds are not there." LEUCIPPE. But I would rather go when they Sit round about and sing and play. Then why so hurry me ? for you Like play and song and shepherds too. ALCIPHRON. I like the shepherds very well, And song and play, as you can tell. But there is play I sadly fear, And song I would not have you hear. ALOIPHBON AND LEUCIPPE. 217 LEUCIPPE. What can it be 1 what can it be ? ALCIPHRON. To you may none of them repeat The play that you have played with me, The song that made your bosom beat. LEUCIPPE. Don't keep your arm about my waist. ALCIPHKON. Might not you stumble 1 LEUCIPPE. Well then, do. But why are we in aU this haste ? ALCIPHRON. To sing. LEUCIPPE. Alas ! and not play too 1 28 MELITON AND LILY. MELITON AND LILY. There was a time when Flowers could speak more plain Than Poets now do ; and for once again A Flower shall answer what a Poet said . . Meliton he was, Lily was the maid. Sit on this garden-bench and hear a song, Maybe not tiresome, certainly not long. MELITON. Lily ! why dost thou shower on me the gold Off thy white bosom, dazzling to behold 1 Must I confess to thee, another Flower I love stU better at this very hour. And she shall (if not over) place thee nigh A bosom pure as thine, where never sigh (I hope) shall shake thee, LUy ! now goodbye. Forgetting not, nor ready to disown Thy friend of other days, thy Meliton. Before thee, at an early season, burst A Eose, and whispered low . . You loved me first. LILY. You are inconstant, now I know, I often heard it long ago But never thought to tell you so. I need no blush ; but every day She blushes ; yes, and well she may. MELITON AND LILY. 29 Pure let her be ! well ! who should care 'i Is she, pray tell me, quite as fair 1 You do not answer what I ask. MELITON. I dare not ; it 's too hard a task. 30 ICARIOS AND ERIGONfe. ICARIOS AND EEIGONE. Improvident were once the Attic youths. As (if we may believe the credulous And testy) various youths have been elsewhere. But truly such was their improvidence, Ere Pallas in compassion was their guide, They never stowed away the fruits of earth For winter use ; nor knew they how to press Olive or grape : yet hospitality Sate at the hearth, and there was mirth and song. Wealthy and generous in the Attic land, Icarios ! wert thou ; and Erigon^, Thy daughter, gave with hearty glee the nulk. Buzzing in froth beneath unsteddy goat. To many who stopt near her ; some for thirst. And some to see upon its back that hand So white and small and taper, and await Until she should arise and show her face. The father wisht her not to leave his house, Nor she to leave her father ; yet there sued From all the country round both brave and rich ; Some, nor the wealthier of her wooers, drove Full fifty slant-broVd kingly-hearted STvine, Eeluctant ever to be led aright. Race autocratical, autochthon race, Lords of the woods, fed by the tree of Jove. Some had three ploughs ; some had eight oxen ; some Had vines, on oak, on maple, and on elm. In long and strait and gleamy avenues, Which would have tired you had you reacht the end Without the unshapen steps that led beyond ICAEIOS AND ERIGOnI;. 31 Up the steep hill to where they leand on poles. Yet kind the father was, and kind the maid. And now when winter blew the chaff about, And hens pursued the grain into the house, Quarrelsome and indignant at repulse, And rushing back again with ruffled neck, They and their brood ; and kids blinkt at the brand, And bee-nosed oxen, with damp nostrils lowered Against the threshold, stampt the dogs away ; Icarios, viewing these with thoughtful mind, Said to Erigonfe, " Not scantily The Grods have given us these birds, and these Short-bleating kids, and these loose-hided steers. The Gods have given : to them wiU we devote A portion of their benefits, and bid The youths who love and honor us partake : So shall their hearts, and so shall ours, rejoice." The youths were bidden to the feast : the flesh Of kid and crested bird was plentiful : The steam hung on the rafters, where were nail'd Bushes of savory herbs, and figs and dates ; And yellow-pointed pears sent down long stalks Through nets wide-mesht, work of Erigon^ When night was long and lamp yet unsupplied. Choice grapes Icarios had ; and these, alone Of aU men in the country, he preserved For festive days ; nor better day than this To bring them from beneath his reed-thatcht roof. He mounted the twelve stairs with hearty pride. And soon was heard he, breathing hard : he now Descended, holding in both arms a cask, Fictile, capacious, bulging : cork-tfee bark 32 ICARIOS AND ERIGONfe. Secured the treasure ; wax above the mouth. And pitch above the wax. The pitch he brake, The wax he scraped away, and laid them by, Wrenching up carefully the cork-tree bark. A hum was heard. " What ! are there bees within 1 " Euphorbas cried. " They came then with the grapes," Replied the elder, and pour'd out clear juice Fragrant as flowers, and wrinkled husks anon. " The ghosts of grapes ! " cried Phanor, fond of jokes Within the house, but ever abstinent Of such as that in woodland and alone. Where any sylvan God might overhear. No few were saddened at the ill-omen'd word. But sniffing the sweet odour, bent their heads. Tasted, sipt, drank, ingurgitated : fear Flew from them all, joy rusht to every breast, Friendship grew warmer, hands were join'd, vows sworn. From cups of every size, from cups two-ear'd. From ivy-twisted and from smooth alike, They dash the water ; they pour in the wine ; (For wine it was) until that hour unseen. They emptied the whole cask ; and they alone ; For both the father and the daughter sate Enjoying their delight. But when they saw Flusht faces, and when angry words arose As one more fondly glanced against the cheek Of the fair maiden on her seat apart, And she lookt down, or lookt another way Where other eyes caught hers and did the like. Sadly the sire, the daughter fearfully. Upon each other fixt wide-open eyes. ICAKIOS AND ERIGONfe. 33 This did the men remark, and, bearing signs Diflferent, as were their tempers, of the wine, But feeling each the floor reel under him. Each raging with more thirst at every draught, Acastor first (sidelong his step) arose, Then Phanor, then Antyllos : " Zeus above Confound thee, cursed wretch ! " aloud they cried, " Is this thy hospitality ? must all Who loved thy daughter perish at a blow 1 Not at a blow, but like the flies and wasps." Madness had seiz'd them all. Erigon^ Ean out for help ; what help 1 Before her sprang Moera, and howl'd and barkt, and then return'd Presaging. They had dragg'd the old man out And murdered him. Again flew Mcera forth, Faithful, compassionate, and seiz'd her vest. And drew her where the body lay, unclosed The eyes, and rais'd toward the stars of heaven. Thou who hast listened, and stU ponderest. Raise thine, for thou hast heard enough, raise thine And view Bootes bright among those stars. Brighter the Virgin : Mcera too shines there. But where were the Eumenides 1 Eepress Thy anger. If the clear calm stars above Appease it not, and blood must flow for blood, Harken, and hear the sequel of the tale. Wide-seeing Zeus lookt down ; as mortals knew By the woods bending under his dark eye. And huge towers shuddering on the mpuntain tops. And stillness in the valley, in the wold, c 34 icARios AND erigonJ;. And over tlie deep waters all round earth. He lifted up his arm, but struck them not In their abasement : by each other's blow They fell ; some suddenly ; but more beneath The desperate gasp of long-enduring wounds. THE BOYS OF VENUS. 35 THE BOYS OF VENUS. Twain are the boys of Venus : one surveys Benignly this our globe ; the other flies Cities and groves, nor listens to their songs Nor bears their converse ; hardly is he known By name among them ; cold as Eurus, pure As gusty rain. What discord tore apart The brothers 1 what beside ambition could 1 The elder was aggrieved to see the sparks Shoot from the younger's whetstone as he turn'd His arrow-barbs, nor pleas'd that he should waste Day after day in wreathing flowers for crowns. Or netting meshes to entrap the birds ; And, while rose incense to that idle child. To him were only empty honors paid. Bitterly to Silenus he complain'd. Entreating him to arbitrate his wrongs But hearing no remonstrance, mild as were The wise God's words ; they only fann'd his ire. " Call that Idalian " cried he " then decide." He did so. " Brother ! was it me you caH'd 1 " Said the sweet child, whose wings were hanging down Heavily from both shoulders, and his face Suffused with shame. " Will you not even own Your little brother from Idalia 1 come. Let us be friends." Then, turning to the judge, " Did he not send for me 1 " To this appeal 36 THE BOYS OF VENUS. Before Silenus could reply, before He could, as now he tried, unite their hands, " Yes," interrupted the ferocious one, " I did, that you may now learn who I am " Silenus smiled, and beckoning, fondly said " Hither now ! kiss each other ; I may then Say which is best : each slfeU have due reward. And frieoid from friend." At this the lesser lept And threw his arms about his brother's neck Tum'd scornfully away, yet many a kiss He gave it ; one, one only, was retum'd ; For even the brother could not now resist. Whether such godlike influence must prevail Or whether of repulsing it ashamed ; Stil neither would he his intent forego Nor moderate his claim, nor cease to boast How Chaos he subdued with radiant fire. How from the sky its darkness he dispel'd. And how the struggling planets he coerced. Telling them to what distance they might go, And chain'd the raging Ocean down with rocks. " Is not aU this enough for yoix 1 " replied The gentler, " envy you my narrow realm 1 Denying me my right you raise my plumes. You make me boast that on my birth there broke Throughout the heavens above and earth below A golden light. I do not recollect What Chaos was, it was before my time ; Where flew the stars about I neither know Nor care ; but her who governs them I drew Behind the Latmian cliff's, entreating me, THE BOYS OF VENUS. 37 And promising me everything, to grant Her first and last desire : tho you reside In heaven with her, and tho she knows your fame. She knows no love but what is scom'd by you. What are sea-shores to me 1 I penetrate The inmost halls of Nereus ; I command . . Up spring the dolphins, and their purple backs I smoothe for timorous harper to bestride : At losing him, on the dry sands they pine. Desert you anyone, he heeds it not. But let me leave him and funereal flames Burst from his bosom. Your last guest from earth. When I was angry with him, threw aside The spindle, broke the thread, and lay before The gate as any worthless herb might lie. And gamesome whelps lept over that broad breast. About the Gods above I would not say A word to vex you : whether roUs the orb We stand upon I know not, or who trims The fires ethereal, or who rules the tides. If these I yield to you, to me concede Free laughter and sly kiss ; fresh flowers give me. And songs the lyre delights in, give the lull Of reeds among the willows upon banks Where hoUow moss invites and then betrays. Let me be happy ; some have call'd me strong ; Whether I am so, let recorded facts Declare, in every land perform'd by me Under the rising and the setting sun, Too numerous for a memory weak as mine." " Scarce more so than your promises " exclaim'd 38 THE BOYS OF VENUS. The taunter. Smiling, blushing too, the child Acknowledged his forgetfulness . . at times . . But added, " Do not make me boast again. If you pretend contempt for earthly cares And stand apart from nuptial scenes, and make No promises that leave so many blest, But turn aside your face and gaze upon The dismal depths, and Styx alone adjure. Pray teU me who made Pluto, by the pool Of that same Styx and panting Phlegethon Pant also, while the dog with his three throats Growl'd and roar'd out 1 who taught the unwilling bride To bear him ? it was I, it was my sport. In his dominions better deeds were mine. FoUowiag this torch and guided by this hand You might have heard amid the silent shades The water, drop by drop, fall from the urn Of the condemn'd ; the wheel you might have heard Creak, with no human groans from it ; thro me Laodameia met again the youth She died for, and Eurydice met her's." The generous Judge embraced the generous God, Then tranquilly bespake the other thus. " worthy child of thy grave sire ! to thee I give the stars in keeping, with his leave, And storms and seas and rocks that hold them in With Neptune's, asking Amphitrite's too. Thou, lesser of the winged ones ! the source Of genial smiles, who makest every sun THE BOYS OF VENUS. 39 Eoll brighter, and ten thousand fall far short Of one such night as thou alone canst give ; Who holdest back the wiUing Hours at play, And makest them run weariless aside Thy quickest car ! be thou with this content. To thee do I assign thy modest claim. Write it in thy own words . . The linked hands. And every flower that Spring most gladly wears. And every song the quivering lyre of youth Delights in ; and the whispers of the reeds Under the willows ; and the mossy tuft Dimpling but to betray : should anywhere Be sweeter whispers, be they also thine Do thou but" . . then he blusht and lowered his head Against the boy's . . " touch gently with thy dart, So that no mortal see . , lanthe's breast." 40 THE HAMADRYAD. THE HAMADRYAD. Rhaicos was born amid the hills wherefrom Gnidos the light of Caria is discern'd, And small are the white-crested that play near, And smaller onward are the purple waves. Thence festal choirs were visible, all crown'd With rose and myrtle if they were inborn ; If from Pandion sprang they, on the coast Where stern Athenfe raised her citadel, Then olive was intwined with violets Cluster'd in bosses, regular and large. For various men wore various coronals ; But one was their devotion : 'twas to her Whose laws all foUow, her whose smile withdraws The sword from Ares, thunderbolt from Zeus, And whom in his chiU caves the mutable Of mind, Poseidon, the sea-king, reveres. And whom his brother, stubborn Dis, hath pray'd To turn in pity the averted cheek Of her he bore away, with promises. Nay, with loud oath before dread Styx itself, To give her daily more and sweeter flowers Than he made drop from her on Enna's deU. Rhaicos was looking from his father's door At the long trains that has^ned to the town From all the valleys, like bnght rivulets Gurgling with gladness, wave -outrunning wave. And thought it hard he might not also go And offer up one prayer, and press one hand. He knew not whose. The father call'd him in, And said, " Son Rhaicos ! those are idle games ; THE HAMADRyAD. 41 Long enough I have lived to find them so." And ere he ended, sighed ; as old men do Always, to think how idle such games are. " I have not yet," thought Ehaicos in his heart. And wanted proof. " Suppose thou go and help Echeion at the hiU, to bark yon oak And lop its branches ofi", before we delve About the trunk and ply the root with axe : This we may do in winter." Ehaicos went ; For thence he could see farther, and see more Of those who hurried to the city-gate. Echeion he found there, with naked arm Swart-hair'd, strong-siaew'd, and his eyes intent Upon the place where first the axe should faU : He held it upright. " There are bees about, Or wasps, or hornets," said the cautious eld, " Look sharp, son of Thallinos ! " The youth Inclined his ear, afar, and warily, And cavern'd in his hand. He heard a buzz At first, and then the sound grew soft and clear. And then divided into what seem'd tune. And there were words upon it, plaintive words. He turn'd, and said, " Echeion ! do not strike That tree : it must be hoUow ; for some God Speaks from within. Come thyself near." Again Both turn'd toward it : and behold ! there sat Upon the moss below, with her two palms Pressing it on each side, a maid in form. Downcast were her long eyelashes, and pale Her cheek, but never mountain-ash display'd 42 THE HAMADRyAD. Berries of colour like her lip so pure, Nor were tlie anemones about her hair Soft, smooth, and wavering, like the face beneath. " What dost thou here 1 " Echeion, half-afraid, Half-angry, cried. She Hfted up her eyes. But nothing spake she. Ehaicos drew one step Backward, for fear came likewise over him. But not such fear : he panted, gaspt, drew in His breath, and would have tum'd it into words, But could not into one. " send away That sad old man ! " said she. The old man went Without a warning from his master's son. Glad to escape, for sorely he now fear'd. And the axe shone behind him in their eyes. HAMADRYAD. And wouldst thou too shed the most innocent Of blood 1 no vow demands it ; no God wills The oak to bleed. RHAICOS. Who art thou ? whence 1 why here 1 And whither wouldst thou go 1 Among the robed In white or saffron, or the hue that most Eesembles dawn or the clear sky, is none Array'd as thou art. What so Ibeautiful As that gray robe which clings about thee close. Like moss to stones adhering, leaves to trees, Yet lets thy bosom rise and fall in turn. As, toucht by zephyrs, fall and rise the boughs Of graceful platan by the river-side. THE HAMADEYAD, 43 HAMADRYAD. Lovest thou well thy father's house 1 EHAICOS. Indeed 1 love it, well I love it, yet would leave For thine, where'er it be, my father's house, With all the marks upon the door, that show My growth at every birth-day since the third, And all the charms, o'erpowering evil eyes. My mother nail'd for me against my bed. And the Cydonian bow (which thou shalt see) Won in my race last spring from Eutychos. HAMADRYAD. Bethink thee what it is to leave a home Thou never yet hast left, one night, one day. EHAICOS. No, 'tis not hard to leave it ; 'tis not hard To leave, maiden, that paternal home. If there be one on earth whom we may love First, last, for ever ; one who says that she Will love for ever too. To say which word. Only to say it, surely is enough . . It shows such kindness . . if 'twere possible We at the moment think she would indeed. HAMADRYAD. Who taught thee all this folly at thy age ? 44 THE HAMADRYAD. RHAICOS. I have seen lovers and have learnt to love. HAMADRYAD. But wilt thou spare the tree 1 RHAICOS. My father wants The bark ; the tree may hold its place awhile. HAMADRYAD. AwhUe ! thy father numbers then my days 1 RHAICOS. Are there no others where the moss beneath Is quite as tufty 1 Who would send thee forth Or ask thee why thou tarriest ? Is thy flock Anywhere near 1 HAMADRYAD. I have no flock : I kill Nothing that breathes, that stirs, that feels the air, The sun, the dew. Why should the beautiful (And thou art beautiful) disturb the source Whence springs all beauty 1 Hast thou never heard Of Hamadryads ? RHAICOS. Heard of them I have : Tell me some tale about them. May I sit Beside thy feet ? Art thou not tired ? The herbs THE HAMADRYAD. 45 Are very soft ; I will not come too nigh ; Do but sit there, nor tremble so, nor doubt. Stay, stay an instant : let me first explore If any acorn of last year be left Within it ; thy thin robe too ill protects Thy dainty limbs against the harm one smaU Acorn may do. Here's none. Another day Trust me ; til then let me sit opposite. HAMADRYAD. I seat me ; be thou seated, and content. RHAICOS. sight for gods ! Ye men below ! adore The Aphroditfe. Is she there below 1 Or sits she here before me 1 as she sate Before the shepherd on those highths that shade The HeUespent, and brought his kindred woe. HAMADRYAD. Eeverence the higher Powers ; nor deem amiss Of her who pleads to thee, and would repay . . Ask not how much . . but very much. Eise not : No, Ehaicos, no ! Without the nuptial vow Love is unholy. Swear to me that none Of mortal maids shall ever taste thy kiss. Then take thou mine ; then take it, not before. RHAICOS. Hearken, aU gods above ! Aphroditfe ! Herfe ! let my vow be ratified ! But wilt thou come into my father's house ? 46 THE HAMADRYAD. HAMADRYAD. Nay : and of mine I can not give thee part. Where is it 1 RHAICOS. HAMADRYAD. In this oak. RHAICOS. Ay ; now begins The tale of Hamadryad : tell it through. HAMADRYAD. Pray of thy father never to cut down My tree ; and promise him, as well thou mayst. That every year he shall receive from me More honey than will buy him nine fat sheep, More wax than he will burn to all the gods. Why fallest thou upon thy face 1 Some thorn May scratch it, rash young man ! Eise up ; for shame ! RHAICOS. For shame I can not rise. pity me ! I dare not sue for love . . but do not hate ! Let me once more behold thee . . not once more. But many days : let me love on . . uidoved ! I aimed too high : on my own head the bolt Falls back, and pierces to the very brain. THE HAMADRYAD. 47 HAMADRYAD. Go . . rather go, than make me say I love. RHAICOS. If happiness is immortality, (And whence enjoy it else the gods above ?) I am immortal too : my vow is heard : Hark ! on the left . . Nay, turn not from me now, I claim my kiss. HAMADRYAD. Do men take first, then claim 1 Do thus the seasons run their course with them 1 . . Her lips were seal'd, her head sank on his breast. Tis said that laughs were heard within the wood : But who should hear them 1 . . and whose laughs 1 and why 1 Savoury was the smell, and long past noon, Thallinos ! in thy house ; for marjoram, BasU and mint, and thyme and rosemary, Were sprinkled on the kid's well roasted length. Awaiting Rhaicos. Home he came at last. Not hungry, but pretending hunger keen, With head and eyes just o'er the maple plate. " Thou seest but badly, coming from the sun. Boy Ehaicos ! " said the father. " That oak's bark Must have been tough, with little sap between ; It ought to run ; but it and I are old." Ehaicos, although each morsel of the bread Increast by chewing, and the meat grew cold And tasteless to his palate, took a draught 48 THE HAMADRYAD. Of gold-bright wine, which, thirsty as he was. He thought not of untD. his father fill'd The cup, averring water was amiss. But wine had been at all times pour'd on kid. It was religion. He thus fortified Said, not quite boldly, and not quite abasht, " Father, that oak is Zeusis' own ; that oak Year after year wiU bring thee wealth firom wax And honey. There is one who fears the gods And the gods love . . that one " (He blusht, nor said What one) " Hath promist this, and may do more. We have not many moons to wait until The bees have done their best : if then there come Nor wax nor honey, let the tree be hewn." " Zeus hath bestow'd on thee a prudent mind," Said the glad sire : " but look thou often there. And gather aU the honey thou canst find In every crevice, over and above What hath been promist; would they reckon that 1 " Ehaicos went daily ; but the nymph as oft Invisible. To play at love, she knew. Stopping its breathings when it breathes most soft. Is sweeter than to play on any pipe. She play'd on his : she fed upon his sighs ; They pleas'd her when they gently waved her hair, Cooling the pulses of her purple veins. And when her absence brought them out they pleas'd. Even among the fondest of them all, What mortal or immortal maid is more THE HAMABEYAD. i9. Content with giving happiness than pain 1 One day he was returning from the wood Despondently. She pitied him, and said " Come back ! " and twined her fingers in the hem Above his shoulder. Then she led his steps To a cool rill that ran o'er level sand Through lentisk and through oleander, there Bathed she his feet, lifting them on her lap When bathed, and drying them in both her hands. He dared complain ; for those who most are loved Most dare it ; but not harsh was his complaint. " thou inconstant ! " said he, " if stern law Bind thee, or wUl, stronger than sternest law, O, let me know henceforward when to hope The fruit of love that grows for me but here." He spake ; and pluckt it from its pliant stem. " Impatient Ehaicos ! why thus intercept The answer I would give 1 There is a bee Whom I have fed, a bee who knows my thoughts And executes my wishes : I will send That messenger. If ever thou art false. Drawn by another, own it not, but drive My bee away : then shall I know my fate, And, . . for thou must be wretched, . . weep at thine. But often as my heart persuades to lay Its cares on thine and throb itself to rest. Expect her with thee, whether it be morn. Or eve, at any time when woods are safe." Day after day the Hours beheld them blest. And season after season : years had past. Blest were they still. He who asserts that Love 50 THE HAMADRYAD. Ever is sated of sweet things, the same Sweet things he fretted for in earlier days. Never, by Zeus ! loved he a Hamadryad. The nights had now grown longer, and perhaps The Hamadryads find them lone and dull Among their woods ; one did, alas ! She called Her faithful bee : 'twas when all bees should sleep. And all did sleep but hers. She was sent forth To bring that light which never wintry blast Blows out, nor rain nor snow extinguishes. The light that shines from loving eyes upon Eyes that love baick, tiU they can see no more. Ehaicos was sitting at his father's hearth : Between them stood the table, not o'erspread With fruits which autumn now profusely bore. Nor anise cakes, nor odorous wine ; but there The draft-board was expanded ; at which game Triumphant sat old ThaUinos ; the son Was puzzled, vext, discomfited, distraught. A buzz was at his ear : up went his hand. And it was heard no longer. The poor bee Eeturn'd (but not until the morn shone bright) And found the Hamadryad with her head Upon her aching wrist, and showed one wing Half-broken off, the other's meshes marr'd. And there were bruises which no eye could see Saving a Hamadryad's. At this sight Down fell the languid brow, both hands felLdown, A shriek was carried to the ancient hall Of ThallinOs : he heard it not : his son THE HAMADRYAD. 51 Heard it, and ran forthwith into the wood. No bark was on the tree, no leaf was green. The trunk was riven through. From that day forth Nor word nor whisper sooth'd his ear, nor sound Even of insect wing : but loud laments The woodmen and the shepherds one long year Heard day and night ; for Ehaicos would not quit The sohtary place, but moan'd and died. Hence milk and honey wonder not, guest, To find set duly on the hollow stone. 52 DRYOPE. DRYOPE. (Eta was glorious ; proud of ancestry- There Dryops reign 'd : Spercheios was his sire, His mother Polydora ; but above All ancestry went forth his daughter's fame, Dryope, loved by him whose radiant car Surmounts the heavens. With Hght he irrigates The earth beneath, to all things gives their hue. Motion, and graceful form, and harmony : But now the tresses of his golden hair Wills he to fall and his warm breath to breathe On Dryope alone ; her he pursues Among the willow of pubescent flower And fragrant bark stript off the tender twigs. Moist, split, and ready for the basket-braid. He followed her along the river-bank, Along the shallow where the Nereids meet The Dryads. She was tending once her flock In a deep valley, when there suddenly Burst forth the sound of horn and pipe, and clash Of cymbal rattling from uplifted palms ; Dryad and Hamadryad, wild with joy, Ean on before, ran on behind ; one stopt And cried to her, ere past . . " Art thou alone Forgetful of the day, our festival ? Is Dryops greater than Admetos, king But shepherd too : Apollo watcht his flock, Apollo scared the stealing wolves away, And even Apollo now is scared from thine ! DRYOPE. 53 Thus daughters place their seat above their sire's." Dryope laught, no little proud, at taunt Like this. And now the revels were begun, And circling dance succeeded ; and the day Closed with the chorus of the paean hymn. Weary with dancing Dryope reclined On the soft herbage : lo ! before her feet Shone forth a lyre amidst it ; whose that lyre Each askt, and none replied, for surely each Had hers : was it Antonoe's.1 was it like Theano's 1 Whose-soever it might be She took it, and with twinkling finger ran Over the chords : and now at one she glanced Now at another, with a nod that said She knew their mischief, and to punish them She thrust it in her bosom. Ha ! behold ! A snake glides out. AH shriek aloud, aU throw Their bodies back and spring up all at once. Antonoe dasht upon her fragU reed Her tender hand in rising, but scarce felt The wound until she saw one ruddy globe Enlarging, then she shuddered, then she suckt The whole away, and but two rims appear'd- Faster the others ran, they knew not where. Thro' every field about : the choral shell Around whose loosen'd strings the snake had coil'd Was now aU snake. He rusht on Dryope, So slow in due performance of the rites. Kites which the fathers for their God ordain'd. Then spake Antonoe to the only Nymph Remaining nighj stil fleeing both away, . 54 DEYOPE. Both looking back ; for pity rose o'er fear. " See ! see ! the wicked serpent ! how he licks Her eyes and bosom ! how he bends her down When she would rise and run away ! where now Can be Apollo, proud of Python slain 1 Scom'd by one inexperienced, feard by one SiUy, he seems to think that Fear can win Where Love was driven off. Help, Phoebus, help ! How swells the creature's neck ! how fierce his crest ! A cloud hides all below. The dragon race Is various : now they shake their scales on earth. Now shine their feathers in the sky ; now flame In cars athwart ; now their hard bodies melt In the thin air nor leave a trace behind." Deep in a woody deU beneath a cliff. Scarce daring yet to lift her eyes above The lowest bush, CaUianeira held Diaula, dubious to run on or stay. And argued with her thus. " Since now the grass In the warm spring lies closer and grows higher, And many things may at first sight decieve. Might it not be a lizard she caught up Into her bosom 1 What is pleasanter Than in hot days to hold a lizard there Panting, and gently with a finger's tip Provoke its harmless bite 1 The species seems Rare, it is true. Behold how sisterly Dryope treats it." " Lizard ! no indeed ! " Replied the maiden with wide-open eyes. DRYOPE. 55 " No lizard can be seen a whole field off, Nor so spring up as that bold animal." Neither Diaula nor her arguer dared Procede : CaUianeira went alone Toward Dryope midway. Again, whate'er It was erewhile, the form is changed ; no more A serpent, nor indeed a lizard now. Nor chelys, is that orb by purple veil'd One moment and then alter'd into white ; As violets under haUstones when the wind Blows hurriedly and fitfully above. Then partly mused and partly uttered some. " That hair is surely hers : another Nymph Not of our company, and practised more In quelling serpents, may have intervened. Or witch in gleeful mischief played her pranks. What hand is under her 1 what hair like hers Is waving over 1 " Delius now appear'd Himself among them, and with radiant nod And arm outstretcht recall'd the fugitives. Drawing his purple vest more closely round. They came with downcast eyes, remembering well Their terror when he lent his lofty car To that ambitious son, and how the la,kes Shrank under him, and how the rivers paus'd In silence, and how Po himseK, although From heaven descended, was enwrapt in flames ; Eemembering too the clangor of his bow Bent against Python, when Diana's self Trembled at her deliverer : well they knew 56 DKYOPE. The power, for good or evil, of the God, And kept the fearful secret in their breasts. Soon they recovered ; soon they pitied her The victim of such cruelty : the words Of pity Dryope well understood, Repljring not. They lookt into her eyes A little languid ; on her neck they lookt A little moist ; they own'd her pouting Up Was worthy of the God. Each shly askt Some little question ; she could only blush. Slowly, nor staying to reprove, she went Amid their giggles to her father's house. They, growing bolder, might mayhap have told The tale to others, but had gazed too near For bashful Nymphs ; beside, Diana's wrath They dreaded if her brother they betraid. Dryope, now Andraemon's happy spouse And mother of Amphissos, every spring Is celebrated thro' the groves and vales Of QEta, where the psean had been sung. COBESUS AND CALLIKHOii. 57 CORBSUS AND CALLIEHOE. With song and dance the maids of Calydon Had met to celebrate the yearly rites Of Bacchus. Where two taller whirl around The rope, and caU another to run in, A wanton one pusht forward her who stood Aside her ; when she stumbled they all laught To see her upright heels and scattered hair. 'Twas then, Callirhoe, that thy mother fail'd Even with prayer to bring thee back again Before the altar : it is said a tear EoU'd down thy cheek from shame, and not without A blush of anger . . who on earth can vouch For this 1 since both thy hands hid both thy cheeks. Rising froin his high seat the youthful priest Came forward, pitying her : of graceful mien Coresus was, and worthy of his God. Ah poor Coresus ! luckless was the hour Of his first ineeting her ; there might have been Hour more propitious ; she perhaps had loved Distractedly the youth she now abhor'd ; He too, unless her blushes and her tears Had penetrated deep his generous heart. Might have loved on and sung his woes away. Now neither butting goat nor honeyed must Pourd by the straining boys between his horns Regarded he ; no, nor with wonted cheer Appeard to him the God of gamesome glee. Not even when Hesper caU'd his winking train Around him, and when shook the lower shrubs More than the breeze had shaken them erewhile, 58 CORESUS AND CALLIRHDE. Would he decline hia aking eyes to sleep ; But out of the inclosure, where the grass Was rank with fallen leaves and heavy dew, Lonely he stood beneath an ilex shade, And meditated long and soon forgot The words he had to say : he could recall (He thought) her features, but before him rose A face less beautiful, not less severe. Many the days he sought the maid in vain. Many the nights he stood before the house ; She waits not even to be seen ; no foot Passes her door, and the dog barks, but strait Up springs she from her chair ; she surely hears And knows his tread ; what other can it be ? When she would break a thread off with her teeth She stops, and holds it in a trembling hand Suspended, just above the humid lip White now with fear ; and often her loose locks She dashes back to place a surer ear Against the hinge : is any footfall heard Passing the portico, he steps that way; If soft the sound, he stands there, none but he : If none, he certainly is close behind. - The reed grows harder from perpetual winds. From fears perpetual harder grows the maid. At first CaUirhoe scarcely would confess To her own mother, scarcely to herself ; Now she is ready, now she is resolved With savage speech his fondness to repay, Words she would gather for his punishment, And is more angry when she finds not one ; An aggravation of his past offence. CORESUS AND OALLIRHOE. 59 Flexible is the coral branch beneath The Erythraean sea ; to air exposed It stiffens, no strong hand can bend it back : Such was her nature : she had laid aside Her former manners ; its ingenuous shame Quitted that cheek it lately discomposed ; Crouds she avoided not, nor greatly cared K others knew what she but yesterday Was vext at knowing : she rejoiced to hear A name she loath'd so late. Vainglory caught And made a plaything of an empty heart. When she hears footsteps from behind, she checks Her own, to let him either stop or pass ; She would not wish his love nor him away. Conscious that she is walking over fire Unwounded, on a level with the Gods, And rendering nuU the noblest gifts they gave. Where grows a dittany that heals the smart Love's broken arrow leaves within the breast 1 He loves not who such anguish can endure. He who can burst asunder such a bond Loves not. _ , Hard-breathina; from his inmost soul Ca^us siez'd her hand, then threw it back And pour'd forth with stern look these bitter words. " No longer ask I pity on my grief, Callirhoe ! tis unworthy of us both, But there is one who knows it, one above. And will avenge it. Thou hast seen the last Of aU the tears these eyes wUl ever shed ; This grieves me, and this only . . Pestilence Now stalks in darkness on from street to street, 60 COEESUS AND CALLIEHOE. And slow steps follow : wasted, worn away, The aged are gone forth to learn the will Of those we worship ; and their late return, Lookt for since dawn from all the higher roofs, In vain is lookt for. Thro the city lie Children whom dying parents would embrace, Innocent children ! they have not been spared. And shall the guilty before heaven escape ? I was contemn'd, and I deserv'd contempt, I loved imprudently ; yet throughout life Those arts I cherisht which lead youth aright, And strengthen manhood and adorn old-age. Old-age ! for me there will be none : my brow Hath worn its crown . . for what 1 that festal songs May rise around the altar, sung by thee. Worthy I was to woo, and woo I did; I am imworthy now, and now abstain, Subjected to the levity of all. Even my own friends : and yet might I have stood Above those equal-aged, whether the prize Were olive, given by heroes, whether bay Which only Gods, and they on few, bestow, Or whether, Callirhoe ! in thy love. Let kings throw largesses around, let earth And ocean be explored that vulgar eyes May gaze at vulgar heads rais'd somewhat higher. The Gods alone give genius, they alone Give beauty . . why so seldom to unite ! She shines her hour, and then the worshiper Kises and go.es. Genius stands cold, apart, Like Saturn in the skies ; his^aspect seems, To mortal men below, oblique, malign ..." CORESUS AND CALLIRHOE. 61 While he was speaking and about to pause, Downcast, with silent and slow step approacht They who went forth to touch with purest hands The altar, and appease the oflfended Powers. The virgin saw them coming ; soon she heard A croud's tumultuous outcries and turned pale ; But paler was Coresus who presaged The impending evil ; paler when he heard Curses and (painfuller) immodest speech. He hastened to withdraw her ; but aloud Palsemon cried, " Stay here ! stay here thou too wretched girl ! and take the words I bring. The God's own words : no longer shall the throng Around thee rise infuriate, nor shall maids And matrons turn on thee their dying look Or call the torch funereal by thy name." Impatient and exultant sprang the youth ; Wildly he threw his arms around her neck, Then, falling on his knees, " Hail thou " he cried, " Who fillest with thy deity the grove Of high Dodona, and with brow serene Hast clear'd the troubled sky ! She lives ! she lives ! The source of sorrow to none else than me : Neither my dreams nor Bacchus promist this." Palaemon, after solemn sUence, spake : " Alas ! how sadly do young hopes decieve ! The sight of future things was granted thee In vain : Love lowers his saflfron veil, runs off. And thro the dimness thou seest only Love. 62 CORESUS AND CALLIRHOK. Forward, ye youths ! since Jupiter ordains, And since the son of Semele hath deign'd To honor and avenge his chosen priest, Lead the peace-offering, the pure victim, forth . . Lead forth Callirhoe." Thro the maiden's veins The blood crept cold : she staggered, fell . . upheaVd And drag'd away by some strong arm, she reacht The temple : consciousness (not soon) retum'd Thro the loud tramplings, on the marble floor, Of those who carried incense fresh-ahght, And the salt sprinklings from the frigid font. " Take " said Palsemon, trembling as he spake, " Take thou this sword, Coresus ! 'tis thy part. Often hast thou the avenging Gods invoked, And wouldst thou cast aside the vows they grant 1 Impious ! impossible ! no grace is this To thee, but sign to aU that in his priest Wrong'd and offended is the Grod he serves, Warning to aU that vows be wisely voVd. But if among this concourse there stand one Who pities so the victim, that for hers He yields his Ufe, then shall the pestilence. Under Jove's saving son, our Bacchus, cease." With his veind hand a tear the youth swept off : Less mournfully than scornfully said he, " Listen ! how swift, how still, their steps retreat ! Now then, Callirhoe ! now my breast is firm ; None stand before me : in a father's place And in a lover's I will here discharge No empty duty." Cries and groans are heard, CORESUS AKU CALLIRHOE. 63 And seen upon the pavement where he stood His writhing limbs. With sudden terror flies The croud bewildered, dreading lest a blood So sacred should run on and reach their feet. The temple and the grove around it moan, And other murmurs, other cries, than rose So lately, fill the city and the plain. First flies the rumor that the priest had fallen By his own hand ; it gathered force, and soon That both were smitten by the wrathful Gods. From its own weight is that vast multitude Pusht onward, driven back, conglomerated. Broken, disperst, like waves on stormy seas. 64 CATILLUS AND SALIA. CATILLUS AND SALIA. Against the lintel of Voltumna's fane, Whicli from the Cyminus surveys the lake And grove of ancient oaks, Coresus left His spear ; his steed stood panting, and afraid Sometimes of sight obscure, sometimes of sound Strange to him, of wild beast or falling bark Blackened by fire, and even of witherd leaves Whirld by the wind above his bridle-bit. " Voltumna," cried the youth, " do not reject My vow to Salia ; she despiseth not. Nor doth her father, love so pure as mine ; But there are oracles which both believe Are obstacles against the nuptial torch. Goddess ! thou knowest what the Powers above Threaten, for from thy fane the threats procede, Thine be it all such sorrow to dispell ! Amphiaraus could, not long ago. Have taught me what impended ; with him went His art, alas ! he with his car of fire Sunk near Ismenos. Ancient bards have sung That the king's house and king himself must fall, And that his daughter, when she weds, will bring Destruction on them both. Her braver heart Sees thro the oracles, at first obscure. Nor fears to love me ; should not I abide The fate of arms, whatever it may be ? I would not they should part us ; I would now And ever be with her, altho the Gods So will that we must pass the Stygian pool CATILLUS AND SALIA. 65 Or, what is worse, roam thro the stranger's land. Salia ! be thou mine a single day. Another's never, nor a banisht man's." A hollow murmur moves the forest heads. The temple gloams, and from the inner shrine A voice is heard, " Unhappy daughter ! sprung Of parent more unhappy, thus forewarnd Of coming woe." The voices ceast . . the groves Afar resounded when the portal closed. Silence more awful followed, thro the sky And lofty wood and solitary fane ; If any bird winged over, in that bird He saw not whence might come an augury To solace his torn heart ; among dense shade Some there might be ; but over all the lake He heard no sound, no swan was visible. For shining afar off they floated high. Or smooth'd their wings upon the swelling wave. Now he thro shady fields of trelliced vine Waving o'er-head, and thin-leaved olives hied. Twas evening ; on the earth he threw himself. Hoping some dream might waft away his dread. Sharp was the radiance of the stars above. And all the sky seemd moving in a course It never yet had moved in ; what he heard Beneath the roof of Anius, and within The temple of Voltumna, now returnd. And what seemd there so difficult, he felt Plain to expound and easy to achieve. The daughter and the father he resolves To save forthwith ; he snatches up the rein, Leaps on his charger, and ere breaks the dawn E 66 CATILLUS AND SALIA. Reaches the city-gate : few sentries stood Before or near it, long enjoying peace. Well might the troop have known their youthful friend, Broad-chested, of high brow, of lustrous eye. Familiar speech, large heart and liberal hand. And prompt on horse or foot with Argive spear. Fast went he to the mansion of the king. Beneath the gateway Periphas he meets, Seizes his hand, " I haste to Salia," Cries he, " Voltumna threatens mortal woe. Woe which her father never can avert. Piety may be blind, love open-eyed Is ever on the watch : I bring with me The Goddesses own words, words now confirmed By surest omens, even by my dreams." Unhappy Saba had already past. She early every morning sacrificed To Dian in the little fane anear The city-gate : the hero's threatening steed Neighd, and the palace-archway sounded loud From frequent tramps of his impatient hoof. It was the hour when each expiring lamp Crackled beneath, now showing, hiding now. The chain it hung by ; when the hind prepared To throw upon the slowly rising ox His wooden collar, slow himself, morose With broken sleep ; along the lower sky Eeddened a long thin line of light that showd But indistinctly the divided fields. Catillus meets his Salia, " Fly," cries he, " Fly while tis possible ; the Gods have given CATILLUS AND SALIA. 67 Sure omens ; now distrust them never more." He lifts her, ere she answers, on the steed. Leaps on it after, spurs with rapid heel The flank, and off they fly. " Now tremble not. My Salia, there was room and time for fear When flight was difficult and hope unsure. Dian, to bless thy pious vow, had given What now Voltumna gives ; fallacious dream Came never from her fane. Feel, Salia, feel How quiet, without snort and without shy. Moves under us the generous beast we ride ! Is then my arm too tight around thy waist '? I will relax this bondage . . and stil sigh !► Weary thou must be ; we wiU here dismount And leave behind us the brave beast to rest Under the roof-tree of that cottage near. We will reward him for his oaten bread. And for the skiff he idly lies along." Large was the recompence ; the pair imbarkt ; The hind stood wondering, "Are they then some Gods?" Muttered he to himself. The little sail Catillus hoisted, hoisted leisurely. That he might turn it whatsoever breeze Haply should rise, but more that he might sit On the same thwart, and near enough to screen The face of Salia from the level sun. And any gazers from the banks they pass. CatiUus listened ; and whatever voice Came to his ear, he shuddered at, but most Dreaded lest Fescennine loose song reach hers. 68 CATILLUS AND SALIA. Cautious lie was of meeting the approach Of the Volsinians ; he would then avoid The flowery fields that Farfar's rills refresh, And those too where, when Sirius flames above, HimeUa guides her little stream away. Therefor he wisely wore a coarse attire, Unrecognized, and seem'd a stranger hind Eeturning to his kin at even-tide. His crest and spear beneath dense rushes lay. Long was the way by land, by water long, Nor would he, if he could, say what remaind To travel yet. " Thou seest with how mild light Hesper advances, oscillating now Alone upon the water ; -look uptj : how befriends us The pale and tender sky; earth, water, heaven, Conspire to help us." Sleepless, nor inclined To slumber, both form dreams : supreme the bhss Soon to be theirs, if but one touch inflames Each thrilling fiber with such high delight. Never be wise, ye youths ; be credulous ; Happiness rests upon credulity. Why should I, were it possible, relate In what discourses hour succeded hour. How calm the woods, how rich the cultured fields, Or in how many places they could spend Their lives most willingly, or why recount The girlish fears when any sudden swell A hands-breadth high rose up against the skiff", Or lower bough and slender toucht her cheek 1 Catillus too was not without his fears ; Whether some silent woman crept along The river side, expecting the return CATILLUS AND SALIA. 69 Of tardy husband, or burst suddenly The light from cottage near, or fisherman Crownd the black corks along his net with flames. AU night their watery way do they pursue. At dawn Catillus willingly was borne On where the stream grew lighter ; to the right He left those seven hills, of name unknown. Where dwelt Evander : upon one had stood A fortress built by Saturn, opposite Had Janus rais'd one ; both were now decayed ; Catillus wondered how such mighty piles Could ever perish. He had soon arrived Upon the borders of his native home. He took the maiden's hand ; he prest her chin, Eaising it up to cheer her, and he said, "Tis lawful now to visit those abrupt And shattered rocks, that headlong stream, that cave Resounding with the voices of the Nymphs : Here is thy domicile, thy country here. And here the last of all thy cares shall rest. PreserVd by thee thy sire, thy faith preserv'd, Anius will not regret that thou hast shown Obedience to the Gods, and given to him A son who will not shame him by the choice. Think, who will envy us our rural life 1 What savage mortal carry thee away ? Thy father's kingdom who wiU dare invade 1 We have our own, let every other rest ! Now peace be with the Sabines.* May thy sire Enjoy it long, unanxious and secure ! * Plutarc reckons as Sabiues the Volsiiiians. The nations of Italy often changed their boundaries. 70 CATILLUS AND SALIA. Instead of realm for dower, instead of gates With soldiers for their bars, be thou content With the deep wood where never Mars was heard Above the Tiber ere he leaps and foams, Or doze where under willowy banks obscure Pareusius gently winds his gleamy wave. Look ! what a distance we have left behind ! How the fields narrow which we thought so vast ! How the sun reaches down the city-wall Even to the base, and glows with yellower light." Wherat her eyes she raises, but not yet To his ; the ancient city she surveys Dimly thro tears, " Live, my father ! live. Be comforted, be happy ! If Voltunma Commands it, never let thy love for me Obstruct our pious duties : let me live Amid the solid darkness of these woods. Or see nought else than that mysterious lake * Which other than its own shades wrap in gloom. Enough for me if thee I leave at rest." Catillus heard the pious wish, and said, " Behold that rest at last by thee secured ! However might Voltumna have desired One so devout and duteous to retain, She bade thee go, for she had heard thy prayer. Now art thou mine indeed, now lawfully And safely love and hberty are ours ; No deities oppose us : here is home."^ He raises up his helm ; it lights the copse With splendour ; soon the rural youth come down With oxen reeking from laborious plough, And war-horse after his long rest from toil. * Small ilands composed of weeds float upon the lake. CATILLUS AND iSALIA. 71 Yet, slower with all these auxiliaries The hours moved on than when the oar at eve Was thrown upon the thwart, and when the winds Had their own wiU. Catillus would not land Near bare and open downs ; he knew a path Safer and pleasanter, where soft and cool About the hazles rose high grass oer moss. " But, SaHa ! one step farther . . let us on. And we shall view from that so short ascent Oar own domains, our Tibur." They had reacht The summit : thence what sees she opposite 1 Only the wavy willows bend their heads Below her, only higher elms oershade The darker herbage, and their trailing vines Which pat and pat agaia the passant stream. What sees she then, fastening immovably Her eyes upon one object 1 why so pale ? Her father ! at first sight of him her limbs Stiffen to stone. He from across exclaims, " Stay thee, wretched girl! whom wouldst thou &yV' She wrencht her feet from where they stood, and flew Faster at every word, but slower seem'd Her flight to her at every step she took. Doubtful it was to those upon the walls Whether she drew the youth along, his spear Holdiug as now she did in mortal dread. Or whether he was guiding, to assure Her footsteps ; she was foremost of the two 72 CATILLUS AND SALIA. Where the road was not wide enough for both, He where the incumbent rock was hard to climb. Indignant Anius watches them mount up, Watches them enter thro the city-gate Amid loud trumpets and applause as loud. He raged not, waild not, but both hands comprest His burning brow. How bitter must be grief That such sweet scenes one moment fail to luU ! Fixt stood he just above the cave profound Whence flows Pareusius, but the torrent's roar He heard not ; saw not the white dust of spray Return above it over mead and wood, Wherein are many birds that raise the throat. Pouring a song inaudible, and more That fly the eternal thunder ; for their nests Were not buUt there, nor there their loves iospired. Others protect their brood with cowering wing Or flit around to bring them food, unscared. " The world as ever let Injustice rule. Let men and Gods look on and little heed. Let violence overturn the bust, and spUl The treasured ashes, yet above the tomb Sits holy Grief, and watchful Muse warns off' Oblivion. Why, Powers above ! from lands The fairest on the earth, why should complaint Eise up from mortal to your blest abode ? Why from a father's breast, from Anius ? Who offered ever gifts more cheerfully Before your altars, or with purer hands 1 " Anius smote his breast, and gaspt and groand, " Piety ! where now find it ! She deserts Her parent, conscious as she can but be CATILLUS AND SALIA. 73 Of ills impending : kind, religious, chaste, AH ever thought her ; so she was to all, Alas ! that I alone could not deserve To be, as faithless stranger is, beloved ! " A pause ensued, and then with bitter scorn, " Now learn I what a daughter's duty is ! partner of my sorrows and my joys. Whose sole contention throughout life was which Should be the fonder parent of the two, If Libitina had prolonged thy days How wouldst thou mourn such contest ! I have since Assumed thy place : when any little pain Befell her, light as may be, could I rest 1 Could I away from her bedside 1" He dasht The tear from off his burning cheek, and cried In agony and desperate, " Go then ; sieze The nuptial torch, and sing endearing song. As once at home ; let down the saffron veil . . And be thy child, if child thou have, like thee. If other rites thou hast omitted all, If without dower, such dower as king should give With daughter, if it shames thee not to run Hither and thither over foren lands, The fault is mine, thy father's : that one fault 1 now wiU expiate ; I can yet afford One victim." At these words, there where the rocks Protrude above the channel they burst through, Headlong he cast himseK from crag to crag ; And then rose reddened the resurgent spray. The deed is unforgotten, and the stream Is now calld Anio since that fatal hour. 74 ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. A VISION came o'er three young men at once, A vision of Apollo : each had heard The same command ; each followed it ; all three Assembled on one day before the God In Lycia, where he gave his oracle. Bright shone the morning ; and the birds that build Their nests beneath the column-heads of fanes And eaves of humbler habitations, dropt From under them and wheel'd athwart the sky. When, silently and reverently, the youths Marcht side by side up the long steps that led Toward the awful God who dwelt within. Of those three youths fame hath held fast the name Of one alone ; nor would that name survive Unless Love had sustain'd it, and blown off With his impatient breath the mists of time. " Ye come," the God said mildly, " of one will To people what is desert in the ile Of Lemnos : but strong men possess its shores ; Nor shall you execute the brave emprize Unless, on the third day from going forth. To him who rules the waters ye devote A virgin, cast into the sea alive." They heard, and lookt in one another's face. And then bent piously before the shrine With prayer and praises and thanksgiving hymn, And, after a short silence, went away, Taking each other's hand and swearing truth, Then to the ship in Which they came, return'd. Two of the youths were joyous, one was sad ; ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. 75 Sad was Enallos ; yet those two by none Were loved ; Enallos had already won Cjrmodameia, and the torch was near. By night, by day, in company, alone, The image of the maiden fiU'd his breast To the heart's brim. Ah ! therefor did that heart So sink within him. They have saU'd ; they reach Their home again. Sires, matrons, maidens, throng The plashing port, to watch the gather'd saU, And who springs first and farthest upon shore. Enallos came the latest from the deck. Swift ran the rumour what the God had said. And fearful were the maidens, who before Had urged the sailing of the youths they loved. That they might give their hands, and have their homes, And nurse their children ; and more thoughts per- haps Led up to these, and even ran before. But they persuaded easily their wooers To sail without them, and return again When they had seiz'd the virgin on the way. Cymodameia dreamt three nights, the three Before their fresh departure, that her own EnaUos had been cast into the deep. And she had saved him. She alone embarkt Of all the maidens, and unseen by all. And hid herself before the break of day Among the cloaks and fruits piled high aboard. But when the noon was come, and the repast Was caU'd for, there they found her ; and they call'd 76 ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. Enallos : when Enallos lookt upon her. Forebodings shook him : hopes rais'd her, and love Warm'd the clear cheek while she wiped off the spray. Kindly were all to her and dutiful ; And she slept soundly mid the leaves of fig And vine, and far as far could be apart. Now the third mom had risen, and the day Was dark, and gusts of wind and hail and fogs Perplext them : land they saw not yet, nor knew Where land was lying. Sudden lightnings blazed. Thunder-claps rattled round them. The pale crew Howl'd for the victim. " Seize her, or we sink." maid of Pindus ! I would linger here To lave my eyelids at the nearest rill. For thou hast made me weep, as oft thou hast. Where thou and I, apart from living men. And two or three crags higher, sate and sang. Ah ! must I, seeing ill my way, proceed ? And thy voice too, Cymodameia ! thine Comes back upon me, helpless as thyself In this extremity. Sad words } sad words ! " save me ! save ! Let me not die so young Loving thee so ! let me not cease to see thee ? " Thus prayed Cymodameia. Thus prayed he. " God ! who givest light to all the world. Take not from me what makes that light most blessed ! Grant me, if 'tis forbidden me to save This hapless helpless sea-devoted maid. To share with her (and bring no curses up From outraged Ne^jtune) her appointed fate ! " EKALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. ^1 They wrung her from his knee; they hurl'd her down (Chnging in vain at the hard slippery pich) Into the whitening wave. But her long hair Scarcely had risen up again before Another plunge was heard, another form Clove the strait line of bubbling foam, direct As ringdove after ringdove. Groans from all Burst, for the roaring sea ingulpht them both. Onward the vessel flew ; the skies again Shone bright, and thunder roU'd along, not wroth, But gently murmuring to the white-wing'd sails. Lemnos at close of evening was in sight. The shore was won; the fields markt out; and roofs Collected the dun wings that seek house-fare ; And presently the ruddy-bosom'd guest Of winter, knew the doors : then infant cries Were heard within ; and lastly tottering steps Pattered along the image-stationed hall. Ay, three fuH years had come and gone again, And often, when the flame on windy nights Suddenly flicker'd from the mountain-ash Piled high, men pusht almost from under them The bench on which they talkt about the dead. Meanwhile beneficent Apollo saw With his bright eyes into the sea's calm depth. And there he saw Enallos, there he saw Cymodameia. Gravely-gladsome light Environed them with its eternal green, And many nymphs sate round ; one blew aloud The spiral shell ; one drew brigbt chords across Shell more expansive ; tenderly a third With cowering lip hung o'er the flute, and stopt 78 ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. At will its dulcet sob, or "waked to joy ; A fourth took up the lyre and pincht the strings. Invisible by trembling : many rais'd Clear voices. Thus they spent their happy hours. I know them all ; but all with eyes downcast, Conscious of loving, have entreated me I would not utter now their names above. Behold, among these natives of the sea There stands but one young man : how fair ! how fond! Ah ! were he fond to them ! It may not be ! Yet did they tend him mom and eve ; by night They also watcht his slumbers : then they heard His sighs, nor his alone ; for there were two To whom the watch was hateful. In despair Upward he rais'd his arms, and thus he prayed, " Phcebus ! on the higher world alone Showerest thou all thy blessings 1 Great indeed Hath been thy favour to me, great to her ; But she pines inly, and calls beautiful More than herself the Nymphs she sees around, And asks me 'Are they not more beautiful 1 ' Be all more beautiful, be aU more blest. But not with me ! Release her from the sight ; Eestore her to a happier home, and dry With thy pure beams, above, her bitter tears ! " She saw him in the action of his prayer. Troubled, and ran to soothe him. From the ground, Ere she had claspt his neck, her feet were borne. He caught her robe ; and its white radiance rose Eapidly, all day long, through the green sea. Enallos loost not from that robe his grasp. ENALLOS AND CYMODAMEIA. 79 But spann'd one ancle too. The swift ascent Had stunn'd tliem into slumber, sweet, serene. Invigorating her, nor letting loose The lover's arm below ; albeit at last It closed those eyes intensely fixt thereon, And stU as fixt in dreaming. Both were cast Upon an Hand till'd by peaceful men And few (no port nor road accessible) Fruitful and green as the abode they left, And warm with summer, warm with love and song. 'Tis said that some whom most Apollo loves Have seen that Hand, guided by his light ; And others have gone near it, but a fog Eose up between them and the lofty rocks ; Yet they relate they saw it quite as well. And shepherd-boys and pious hinds believe. 80 PAN AND PITYS. PAN AND PITYS. Cease to complain of what the Fates decree, "Whether shall Death have carried oflf or (worse) Another, thy heart's treasure : bitter Styx Hath overflowed the dales of Arcady, And Cares have risen to the realms above. By Pan and Boreas was a Dryad wooed, Pitys her name, her haunt the grove and wild : Boreas she fled from, upon Pan she gazed With a sly fondness, yet accusing him Of fickle mind ; and this was her reproof. " Ah why do men, or Gods who ought to see More clearly, think that bonds will bind for ever ! Often have stormy seas borne safely home A ship to perish in its port at last ; Even they themselves, in other things unchanged, Are mutable in love ; even he who rules Olympus hath been lighter than his clouds. Alas ! uncertain is the lover race. All of it : worst are they who sing the best, And thou, Pan,^than all. By what deceit Beguiledst thou the Goddess of the night \ wary shepherd of the snow-white flock ! Ay, thy reeds crackled with thy scorching flames And burst with sobs and groans . . the snow-white flock Was safe, the love-sick swain kept ^ shai'p look there. Wonderest thou such report should reach my ear \ And widenest thou thine eyes, half-ready now To swear it all away, and to conceal ' The fountain of Selinos. So ! thou knowest PAN AND PITYS. 81 Nothing about that shallow brook, those herbs It waves in running, nothing of the stones Smooth as the pavement of a temple-floor, And how the headstrong leader of the flock Broke loose from thy left-hand, and in pursuit How falledst thou, and how thy knee was bound With ivy lest white hairs betray the gash. Denyest thou that by thy own accord Cynthia should share thy flock and take her choice? Denyest thou damping and sprinkling o'er With dust, and shutting up within a cave Far out of sight, the better breed 1 the worse Displayed upon the bank below, well washt. Their puflfy fleeches ghttering in the sun. Shame ! to defraud with gifts, and such as these ! " Pan, blushing thro both ears as ne'er before. Cried " Who drag'd back these fables from the past 'i Juster and happier hadst thou been to scorn The false and fugitive. With hoarse uproar I heard thy Boreas bray his song uncouth. And oldest goats ran from it in affright. Thee too, beloved Pitys, then I saw Averse : couldst ever thou believe his speech. His, the most bitter foe to me and mine. From Cynthia never fell such hard rebuke. Different from thee, she pities them who mourn ; Whether beneath straw roof or lofty tower, She sits by the bedside and silently Watches, and soothes the wakeful til they sleep. I wooed not Cynthia ; me she wooed : not all Please her ; she hates the rude, she cheers the gay, She shrouds her face when Boreas ventures near. 82 PAN ANDPITYS. Above all other birds the nightingale She loves ; she loves the poplar of the Po Trembling and whispering ; she descends among The boxtrees on Cytoros ; night by night You find her at the olive : it is she Who makes the berries of the mountain-ash Bright at her touch : the glassy founts, the fanes Hoary with age, the sea when Hesper comes To Tethys, and when liquid voices rise Above the shore . . but Boreas . . no, not she." Then Pitys, with a smile. " Ha ! what a voice ! My lover Boreas could not roar his name More harshly. Come now, cunning lightfoot ! say How was it thou couldst take the Goddess in. And with a charge so moderate on thy fold 1 " " Again, Pitys, wouldst thou torture me ? Gifts not as lover but as loved I gave ; I gave her what she askt : had she askt more I would have given it ; 'twas but half the flock : Therefor 'twas separated in two parts ; The fatter one, of bolder brow, shone out In whiteness, but its wool was like goat-hair. And loud its bleating for more plenteous grass ; Strong too its smeU : my Goddess heeded not The smeU or bleat, but took the weightier fleece. Why shakest thou thy head, incredulous ? Why should I urge the truth on unbelief 1 Or why so fondly sue to scorn and hate 1 Pitys ! a time there was when I was heard With one long smile, and when the softest hand Stroked down unconsciously the lynx-skin gift PAN AND PITYS. 83 Of Bacchus on my lap, and blushes rose If somewhat, by some chance, it was removed. In silence or in speech I then could please, I then at times could turn my face aside, Forgetting that my awkward hand was placed Just where thy knees were bending for a seat : Then could I at another hour look up At the sun's parting ray, and draw the breath Of fresher herbs, while clouds took living forms Throwing their meshes o'er the azure deep. And while thy gaze was on the flight of crows Hoarse overhead, winging their beaten way At regular and wonted intervals. Then, never doubttag my sworn love, anew Thou badest me swear it : pleasure lay secure On its full golden sheaf. Now, alas, now What comfort brings me on the barren shore Pale oleaster, or gay citisus That hides the cavern, or pellucid vein Of wandering vine, or broom that once betray'd The weak twin fawns ! how could I join the glee Of babbling brook, or bear the lull of grove. Or mind the dazzUng vapor from the grass. Unless my Pitys told me, and took up The faltering reed or interrupted song 1 " Thus he, enclosing with his arm hirsute Her neck, and stroking slow her auburn hair. " Up with the pipe " said she " Pan ! and since It seems so pleasant to recall old times, Run over those we both enjoyed alike, And I will sing of Boreas, whom I hate. 84 PAN AND PITYS. He boasts of oaks uprooted by his blast, Of heaven itself his hailstones have disturb'd. Of thy peculiar heritage afire, And how thy loftiest woods boVd down beneath His furious pennons black with bale and dread. He boasts of ships submerged, and waves up-pUed High as Olympus, and the trident torn From Jove's own brother : worst of aU, he boasts How often he deluded with his voice. Under the rocks of Ismaros, that true And hapless lover when his eyes sought sleep. And made his wandering mind believe the sound Kose from the Manes at his wife recaU'd. His pleasure is to drive from lids fresh-closed Fond dreams away, and draw false forms about. And where he finds one terror to bring more. Can such a lover ever be beloved 1 " Boreas heard aU : he stood upon the cliff Before, now crept he iato the near brake ; Eage siez'd him ; swinging a huge rock around And, shaking with one stamp the mountain-head, Hurld it . . and cried " Is Boreas so contemn'd 1 " It smote the Dryad, sprinkling with her blood The tree they sat beneath : there faithful Pan Mused often, often caU'd aloud the name Of Pitys, and wiped off tear after tear From the hoarse pipe, then threw it wildly by. And never from that day wore other wreath Than off the pine-tree darkened with her gore. CUPID AND PAN. 85 CUPID AND PAN. Cupid one day caught Pan asleep, outstretcht : He snatcht the goatskin hung about his loins. And now and then pluckt at a cross-graind hair Bent inward : yet the God, immovable, Blew heavy slumbers from his ruddy breast, Feeling as any corktree's bark might feel. Behind his neck was laid his favorite pipe. But this with furtive touch the boy withdrew, Not quite insensibly, for one sharp ear Quivered a little. Cupid now waxt wroth, Exclaiming, " Zeus above ! was ever God So duU as this 1 even thy own wife would fail To rouse him." Then he clapt the sevenfold reeds To his own rosy lip and blew them shrill. Both ears were now rais'd up, and up sprang he, The God of Arcady, and shook the ground ; But high above it sprang the lighter God, Laughing his threats to scorn. " Down with that bow, Wicked young wretch ! down with those arrows ! " cried The indignant eld, " then see what thou canst do." " What I can do. Pan, thou shalt also see." Thus spake he ; and the bow lept from the sod With golden ring, and the young herbs embraced The quiver. " What ! contend with thee ! 'twere shame . . 86 CUPID AND PAN. " Scoff on," said Cupid ; " when thy wrath subsides. Even to be vanquisht will excite no blush. Come, shamefaced ! strike away ; thy foe awaits." The blusterer roU'd his yellow eyes, then caught (As 'twere a bird he caught at, a rare bird Whose pretty plumage he would grieve to hurt) At the slim boy who taunted him too long. "Tis said the color now first left the face Of the cow'd child ; as when amid a game Of quoit or hoop suddenly falls the snow, And that he trembled, fain almost to fly. "Go, child!" said the grave Arcad : "learn to fear Thy elders ; and from far : check yet awhUe Ferocious beauty. Thou, who challengest The peaceful, hast seen scarcely thrice-five years. Off! or beware a touch of willow-twig." Cupid, ashamed and angered, springing up. Struck where the goatskin covered ill the breast ; Swift as an eagle or the bolt he bears The Arcad, quick of sight, perceived the aim And caught the hand, which burnt like purest fire Upon the altar : Pan drew back his own Extended palm, and blew from rounder cheek A long cold whiff, and then again advanced, Trembling to intertwine his hairy shank With that soft thigh and trip him up, nor ceast To press the yielding marble from above. He grew less anxious to conclude the fight Or win it ; but false glory urged him on. Cupid, now faint and desperate, siez'd one horn ; Pan swung him up aloft ; but artifice Fail'd not the boy ; nay, where the Arcad cried CUPID AND PAN. 87 Conquered at last, and ran both hands about The dainty limbs, pluckt out from the left wing Its stiffest feather, and smote both his eyes. Then loud the rivers and the lakes afar Resounded, and the vallies and the groves ; Then Ladon with a start and shudder broke That marsh which had for ages crost his course ; Alpheios and Spercheios heard the shout Of Msenalos ; Cyllenfe, Pholoe, Parthenos, Tegea, and Lycaios, caUd Eesponsively, nor knew they yet the cause. 'Tis said the winged steed sprang from the highths Of his Parnassus and ran down amid The murky marshes, his proud spirit gone. And there abided he, nor once drave back Castalia's ripples with his neigh and mane. " Hail, conqueror ! " Cupid cried. In lower tone The Arcad, " Never shall my eyes behold My woodland realms ! never the ice afloat Under the Zephyrs, and whirld round and round. Or the foam sparkling dasht upon the ford ; Never the pebbles black and white below, Smoothen'd and rounded by assiduous plash. Nor silvery cloud expanded overhead. Nor Hesper, come to listen to my song. Ah ! for the blind there is one spot alone Upon the earth, and there alone stand I. I did not challenge ; should I sue ? suffice Thy victory ! " He held forth his hand, nor knew 88 CUPID AND PAN. Whether he held it strait before the boy, WhUe from both cheeks fell tears : compassionate Was Cupid. " Soon " said he " a remedy- Shall be provided." Soon were gathered flowers, Nor long ere platted. " I bestow them aU" Said he " on one condition : that thou wear These, and these only, til I take them oflf." The first was amaranth ; too brittle that, It broke ere well applied ; then roses white. White were aU roses in these early days. Narcissus, violet, open-hearted Kly, And smaller ones, no higher than the grass, Slender and drooping they, yet fresh and fair ; A spray of myrtle held together these. But when they toucht his eye he stampt and yell'd And laid wide-open his sharp teeth until The quivering nostril felt the upper Hp. Soon slept he better mid the strawberries, And more and more he thought of Hamadryads, Eecalling all their names, and linking them In easy verse, and fancying it was time To take a little care of form and face : The goatskin for the fawnskin he exchanged And stroked complacently the smoother pelt, And trim'd and drew the ivy rorffld his waist . . It must not be too full . . too scant were worse . . Lastly he doft the bandage from the brow. Then was reneVd the series of his woes. And forced was he to implore again the help CUPID AND PAN. 89 Of his proud conqueror, at the Paphian fane. There found he Venus in the porch itself. " So ! 'twas thy pleasure " said she " to remove The flowers we gave thee. No slight chastisement For this ! It was thy duty and thy vow To wear them til the hands that laid them on Eeleast thee from them. " Goat-foot ! he who scorns Our gifts, scorns never with impunity : Round that hom'd brow, to ake again ere long, A wreath less soft and fragrant shalt thou wear." 90 PRAYER OF THE BEES TO ALCIPHRON. PRAYER OP THE BEES TO ALCIPHRON. There was a spinner in the days of old, So proud, so bold, She thought it neither shame nor sin To challenge Pallas to come down and spin. The goddess won, and forced the crone to hide her Ugly old head and shrink into a spider. The bees were frighten'd, for they knew Within their prudent breasts that few Had so much skill as they ; And she who gave the olive might Be angry, if they show'd that light As pure and bright Could shine on mortals any other way. So not a syllable said they of wax, But cover'd it with honey, lest a tax Be laid upon it by the Powers above. Another goddess, no less mighty Than Pallas, men call Aphrodite, The queen of love. Honey she likes and all things sweet, And, when she came among the swarms, They said, " thou whence love hath aU its charms! Grant him who saved us what we now entreat. 'Tis one whom we Are used to see Among our thyme and ivy-flowers Throughout the matin and the vesper hours, PRAYER OF THE BEES TO ALCIPHRON. 91 ader of silence than of talk ; t him we heard one morning say : ' Gardener ! do not sweep away The citron blossoms from the gravel-walk : [t might disturb or wound my bees ; 3o lay aside that besom, if you please.' Ee for whose weal we supplicate is one rhou haply may'st remember, Alciphron. We know that PaUas has lookt down Sometimes on him without a frown, Yet must confess we 're less afraid Of you than that Hymettian maid. Give him, goddess, we implore, Not honey (we can that) but more. W^e are poor bees, and can not teU [f there be aught he loves as weU ; But we do think we heard him say There is, and something in your way. r stories tell us, when your pretty child 10 drives (they say) so many mortals wild, st one of our great-aunts until she stung ; Away he flew, and wrung, mping, his five loose fingers at the smart. You chided him, and took our part, y the cross Year, fresh-wakened, blow sharp dust their eyes who say thou art unjust." 92 EUROPA AND HER MOTHER. BUEOPA AND HBE MOTHER. MOTHER. Daughter ! why roamest thou again so late Along the damp and solitary shore 1 EtTROPA. I know not. I am tired of distaf, woof, Everything. MOTHER. Yet thou cuUedst flowers aU mom, And idledst in the woods, mocking shrill birds, Or clapping hands at limping hares, who stampt Angrily, and scour'd off. EUROPA. I am grown tired Of hares and birds. mother ! had you seen That lovely creature ! It was not a cow, And, if it was an ox,* it was unlike My father's oxen with the hair rubb'd off Their necks. MOTHER. A cow it was. EUROPA. Cow it might be . . And yet . . and yet . . I saw no calf, no font * Bulls are never at large in those countries ; Europa could not have seen one. EUROPA AND HEE MOTHER. 93 Of milk : I wish I had ; how pleasant 'twere To draw it and to drink ! MOTHER. Europa! child! Have we no maiden for such offices 1 No whistling boy 1 Kings' daughters may cull flowers, To place them on the altar of the Gods And wear them at their festivals. Who knows But some one of these very Gods may deign To wooe thee ? maidens they have wooed less fair. EUROPA. The Gods are very gracious.: some of them Not very constant. MOTHER. Hush! • EUROPA. Nay, Zeus himself Hath wandered, and deluded more than one. MOTHER. Fables ! profanest fables ! EUROPA. Let us hope so. But I should be afraid of him, and run As lapwings do when we approach the nest. MOTHER. None can escape the Gods when they pursue. 94 EUROPA AND HER MOTHER. EUROPA. They know my mind, and will not follow me. MOTHER. Consider : some are stars whom they have loved, Others, the very least of them, are flowers. EUROPA. I would not be a star in winter nights. In summer days I would not be a flower ; Flowers seldom live thro' half their time, torn off, TAvirl'd round, and indolently cast aside. Now, mother, can you tell me what became Of those who were no flowers, but bent their heads As pliantly as flowers do 1 To Hades. ♦• MOTHER. They are gone EUROPA. And left there by Gods they loved And were beloved by ! Be not such my doom ! Cruel are men, but cruder are Gods. MOTHER. Peace ! peace ! Some royal, some heroic, youth May ask thy father for thy dower and thee. EUROPA. I know not any such, if such there live ; ET7E.0PA AND HEE MOTHER. 95 Royal there may be, but heroic . . where ? mother ! look ! look ! look ! MOTHEE. Thou turnest pale ; What ails thee 1 EUEOPA. Who in all the house hath dared To winde those garlands round that grand white brow 1 So mild, so loving ! Mother ! let me run And tear them off him : let me gather more And sweeter. MOTHEE,. Truly 'tis a nobl^ beast. See ! he comes forward ! see, he rips them off, liimself ! EUEOPA. He should not wear them if he would. Stay there, thou noble creature ! Woe is me ! There are but sandrose, tyme, and snapdragon Along the shore as far as I can see. mother ! help me on his back ; he licks My foot. Ah ! what sweet breath ! Now on his side He Ues on purpose for it. Help me up. MOTHER. Well, child ! Indeed he is gentle. Gods above ! 96 EUKOPA AND HER MOTHER. He takes the water ! Hold him tight, Eui'opa ! 'Tis well that thou canst swim. Leap oflf, mad girl ! She laughs ! He lows so loud she hears not me . , But she looks sadder, or my sight is dim . . Against his nostril fondly hangs her hand While his eye glistens over it, fondly too. It will be night, dark night, ere she returns. And that new scarf ! the spray wiU ruin it ! GEBIR. 97 GEBIK. Gebir, at Egypt's youthful queen's approach, Laid by his orbed shield ; his vizor-helm. His buckler and his corset he laid by, And bade that none attend him : at his side Two faithful dogs that urge the silent course, Shaggy, deep-chested, croucht; the crocodile. Crying, oft made them raise their flaccid ears And push their heads within their master's hand. There was a brightening paleness in his face. Such as Diana rising o'er the rocks Shower'd on the lonely Latmian ; on his brow Sorrow there was, yet nought was there severe. But when the royal damsel first he saw. Faint, hanging on her handmaid, and her knees Tottering, as from the motion of the car. His eyes lookt earnest on her, and those eyes Show'd, if they had not, that they might have, lov'd. For there was pity in them at that hour. With gentle speech, and more with gentle looks. He sooth'd her ; but lest Pity go beyond And crost Ambition lose her lofty aim. Bending, he kist her garment, and retired. He went, nor slumber'd in the sultry noon. When viands, couches, generous wines, persuade. And slumber most refreshes ; nor at night, When heavy dews are laden with disease; And blindness waits not there for lingering age. Ere morning dawn'd behind him, he arrived At those rich meadows where young Tamar fed G 98 GEBIR. The royal flocks entrusted to his care. " Now," said he to himself, " will I repose At least this burthen on a brother's breast." His brother stood before him : he, amazed, Eear'd suddenly his head, and thus began. " Is it thou, brother! Tamar, is it thou! Why, standing on the valley's utmost verge, Lookest thou on that dull and dreary shore Where beyond sight NUe blackens aU the sand? And why that sadness 1 When I past our sheep The dew-drops were not shaken off the bar. Therefore if one be wanting, 'tis untold." " Yes, one is wanting, nor is that untold," Said Tamar; " and this dull and dreary shore Is neither duU nor dreary at aU hours." Whereon the tear stole silent down his cheek, SUent, but not by Gebir unobserv'd: Wondering he gazed awhile, and pitying spaka " Let me approach thee ; does the morning light Scatter this wan suffusion o'er thy brow, This faint blue lustre under both thine eyes?" " brother, is this pity or reproach?" Cried Tamar, " cruel if it be reproach. If pity, how vain!" " Whate'er it be That grieves thee, I wiU pity, thou but speak, And I can tell thee, Tamar, pang for pang." "Gebir! then more than brothers are we now! Everything (take my hand) wiU I confess. I neither feed the flock nor watch the fold; How can I, lost in lovel But, Gebir, why That anger which has risen to your cheek? Can other men? could you? what, no reply! GEBIR. 99 And stil more anger, and stil worse conceal'd! Are these your promises? your pity this?" " Tamar, I well may pity what I feel . . Mark me aright . . I feel for thee . . proceed . . Eelate me all." " Then will I all relate," Said the young shepherd, gladden'd from his heart. " 'Twas evening, though not sunset, and the tide Level with these green meadows, seem'd yet higher : 'Twas pleasant ; and I loosen'd from my neck The pipe you gave me, and began to play. that I ne'er had learnt the tuneful art! It always brings us enemies or love. Well, I was playing, when above the waves Some swimmer's head methought I saw ascend ; I, sitting stil, survey'd it, with my pipe Awkwardly held before my lips half -closed, Gebir! it was a Nymph! a Nymph di"\Tne! 1 can not wait describing how she came. How I was sitting, how she first assum'd The sailor; of what happen'd there remains Enough to say, and too much to forget. The sweet deceiver stept upon this bank Before I was aware; for with surprise Moments fly rapid as with love itself. Stooping, to tune afresh the hoarsen'd reed, I heard a rustling, and where that arose My glance first lighted on her nimble feet. Her feet resembled those long shells explored By him who to befriend his steed's dim sight "Would blow the pungent powder in the eye. Her eyes too ! immortal Gods ! her eyes Eesembled . . what could they resemble? what 100 GEBIE. Ever resemble those 1 Even her attire Was not of wonted woof nor vulgar art : Her mantle show'd the yellow samphire-pod, Her girdle the dove-colour'd wave serene. ' Shepherd,' said she, ' and wiU you wrestle now, And with the sailor's hardier race engaged I was rejoiced to hear it, and contrived How to keep up contention: could I fail By pressing not too strongly, yet to press? ' Whether a shepherd, as indeed you seem, Or whether of the hardier race you boast, I am not daunted ; no ; I will engage.' ' But first,' said she, ' what wager will you lay 1' ' A sheep,' I answered : ' add whate'er you wiU.' ' I can not,' she replied, ' make that return: Our hided vessels in their pitchy round Seldom, unless from rapine, hold a sheep. But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue* Within, and they that lustre have imbibed In the sun's palace-porch, where when unyoked His chariot-wheel stands midway in the wave : Shake one and it awakens, then apply Its polisht lips to your attentive ear. And it remembers its august abodes. And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there. And I have others given me by the nymphs. Of sweeter sound than any pipe you have ; But we, by Neptune! for no pipe contend, * W. Wordsworth borrowed this shell, and filled it to overflowing for the refreshment of the wayfarers in his '' Excursion." The Lord of a Manor may wink at small encroachments on the common, but the steward must note them in his book. GEBIR. 101 This tiine a sheep I win, a pipe the next.' Now came she forward eager to engage, But first her dress, her bosom then snrvey'd. And heav'd it, doubting if she could -deceive. Her bosom seem'd, inclos'd in haze like heav'n. To baffle touch, and rose forth undefined : Above her knee she drew the robe succinct, Above her breast, and just below her arms. ' This win preserve my breath when tightly bound. If struggle and equal strength should so constrain.' Thus, pulling hard to fasten it, she spake, And, rushing at me, closed : I thriU'd throughout And seem'd to lessen and shrink up with cold. Again with violent impulse gusht my blood. And hearing nought external, thus absorb'd, I heard it, rushing through each turbid vein. Shake my unsteady swimming sight in air. Yet with unyielding though uncertain arms I clung around her neck ; the vest beneath Eustled against our slippery limbs entwined : Often mine springing with eluded force Started aside and trembled til replaced : And when I most succeeded, as I thought. My bosom and my throat felt so comprest That life was almost quivering on my lips. Yet nothing was there painful: these are signs Of secret arts and not of human might ; What arts I can not teU; I only know My eyes grew dizzy and my strength decay 'd ; I was indeed o'ercome . . with what regret. And more, with what confusion, when I reacht The fold, and yielding up the sheep, she cried. 102 GEBIE. ' This pays a shepherd to a conquering maid.' She smiled, and more of pleasure than disdain Was in her dimpled chin and liberal lip, And eyes that languisht, lengthening, just like love. She ;went away; I on the wicker gate Lean^, and could follow with my eyes alone. The sheep she carried easy as a cloak; But when I heard its bleating, as I did, And saw, she hastening on, its hinder feet Struggle, and from her snowy shoulder slip. One shoulder its poor efforts had unveil'd. Then all my passions mingling fell in tears ; Eestless then ran I to the highest ground To watch her; she was gone; gone down the tide; And the long moon-beam on the hard wet sand Lay likp a jasper column half up-rear'd." " But, Tamar! teU me, wiU she not return?" " She wiU return, yet not before the moon Again is at the fuU : she promist this, Tho' when she promist I could not reply." " By all the Gods I pity thee! go on. Fear not my anger, look not on my shame. For when a lover only hears of love He finds his folly out, and is ashamed. Away with watchful nights and lonely days, Contempt of earth and aspect up to heaven, With contemplation, with humility, A tatter'd cloak that pride wears when deform'd. Away with all that hides me from myself, Parts me from others, whispers I am wise : From our own wisdom less is to be reapt Than from the barest folly of our friend. GEBIR. 103 Tamar! thy pastures, large and rich, aiford Flowers to thy bees and herbage to thy sheep. But, battened on too much, the poorest croft Of thy poor neighbour yields what thine denies." They hasten'd to the camp, and G-ebir there Resolved his native country to forego. And order'd from those ruins to the right They forthwith raise a city. Tamar heard With wonder, tho' in passing 'twas half-told. His brother's love, and sigh'd upon his own. 104 THE DEATH OF ARTEMIDOEA. THE DEATH OF AETEMIDORA. " Artemidoka ! Gods invisible. While thou art lying faint algng the couch, Have tied the sandal to thy slender feet And stand beside thee, ready to convey Thy weary steps where other rivers flow. Eefreshing shades will waft thy weariness Away, and voices like thy own come near And nearer, and solicit an embrace." Artemidora sigh'd, and would have prest The hand now pressing hers, but was too weak. Iris stood over her dark hair unseen While thus Elpenor spake. He lookt into Eyes that had given light and life erewhile To those above them, but now dim with tears And wakefulness. Again he spake of joy Eternal. At that word, that sad woxdi, joy. Faithful and fond her bosom heav'd once more : Her head fell back : and now a loud deep sob Swell'd thro' the darken'd chamber; 'twas not hers. CHRYSAOR. 105 CHEYSAOE. Comb, I beseech ye, Muses ! who, retired Deep in the shady glens by Helicon, Yet know the realms of Ocean, know the laws Of his wide empire, and throughout his court Know every Nymph, and caU them each by name; Who from your sacred mountain see afar O'er earth and heaven, and hear and memorise The crimes of men and counsels of the Gods ; Sing of those crimes and of those counsels, sing Of Gades sever'd from the fruitful main, And what befeU, and from what mighty hand, Chrysaor, wielder of the golden sword. 'Twas when the high Olympus shook with fear. Lest all his temples, aU his groves, be crusht By Pelion piled on Ossa : but the sire Of mortals and immortals waved his arm Around, and all below w^as wild dismay : Again; 'twas agony: again; 'twas peace. Chrysaor stO. in Gades tarrying, Hurl'd into ether, tinging, as it flew. With sudden fire the clouds round Saturn's throne. No pine surrendered by retreating Pan, Nor ash, nor poplar pale : but swoln with pride Stood towering from the citadel ; his spear One hand was rested on, and one with rage Shut hard, and firmly fixt against his side ; His frowning visage, flusht with insolence, Kais'd up obhque to heaven. " thou," he cried, " Whom nations kneel to, not whom nations know. Hear me, and answer, if indeed thou canst. 106 CHRYSAOR. The last appeal I deign thee or allow. TeU me, aud quickly, why should I adore. Adored myself by millions'? why invoke. Invoked with all thy attributes'? Men wrong By their prostrations, prayers, and sacrifice. Either the Gods, their rulers, or themselves : But flame and thunder fright them from the Gods; Themselves they can not, dare not, they are ours; Us, dare they, can they, usf But triumph, Jove! Man for one moment hath engaged his lord. Henceforth let merchants value him, not kiags. No! lower thy scepter, and hear Atrobal, And judge aright to whom men sacrifice. ' My children,' said the sage and pious priest, ' Mark there the altar! though the fumes aspire Twelve cubits ere a nostril they regale, 'Tis myrrh for Titans, 'tis but air for Gods.' Time changes, Nature changes, I am changed! Fronting the furious lustre of the sun, I yielded to his piercing swift-shot beams Only when quite meridian, then abased These orbits to the ground, and there survey'd My shadow : strange and horrid to relate ! My very shadow almost disappear'd! Eestore it, or by earth and hell I swear With blood enough will I refascinate The cursed incantation: thou restore. And largely ; or my brethren, all combined, Shall rouse thee from thy lethargies, and drive Far from thy cloud-soft pillow, minion-prest, Those leering lassitudes that follow Love." CHRYSAOE. 107 The smile of disappomtment and disdain Sat sallow on his pausing ]ip half-closed ; But, neither headlong importunity Nor gibing threat of reed-propt insolence Let loose the blast of vengeance : heaven shone bright, And proud Chrysaor spurn'd the prostrate land. But the triumphant Thunderer, now mankind (Criminal mostly for enduring crimes) Provoked his indignation, thus besought His trident-sceptered brother, triton-borne. " Neptune! cease henceforward to repine. They are not cruel, no ; the Destinies Intent upon their loom, unoccupied With aught beyond its moody murnnmng sound, WUl neither see thee weep nor hear thee sigh : And wherefore weep, Neptune, wherefore sigh! Ambition 1 'tis unworthy of a God, Unworthy of a brother! I am Jove, Thou Neptune : happier in uncitied realms. In coral hall or grotto samphire-ceU'd, Amid the song of Nymphs and ring of shells Thou smoothest at thy will the pliant wave Or liftest it to heaven. I also can Whatever best beseems me, nor for aid Unless I loved thee, Neptune, would I caU. Though absent, thou hast heard and hast beheld The profanation of that monstrous race. That race of earth-born giants ; one survives ; The rapid-footed Ehodan mountain-rear'd Beheld the rest defeated ; stil remain Scatter'd throughout interminable fields, Sandy and sultry, and each hopeless path 108 CHRYSAOR. Choakt up with crawling briars and bristling thorns, The flinty trophies of their foul disgrace. Chrysaor, wielder of the golden sword, StU hails as brethren men of stouter heart, But, wise confederate, shuns Phlegrsean fields. No warrior he, yet who so fond of war. Unfeeling, scarce ferocious; flattery's dupe, He fancies that the Gods themselves are his; Impious, but most in prayer. Now re-assert Thy friendship, raise thy trident, strike the rock. Sever him from mankind." Then thus replied The Nymph-surrounded monarch of the main. " Empire bemoan I not, however shared, Nor Fortune frail, nor stubborn Fate, accuse : No! mortals I bemoan! when Avarice, Ploughing these fruitless furrows, shall awake The basking Demons and the dormant Crimes, Horrible, strong, resistless, and transform Meekness to Madness, Patience to Despair. "What is Ambition? what but Avarice? But Avarice in richer guise array'd. Stalking erect, loud-spoken, lion-mien'd, Her brow uncrost by care, but deeply markt. And darting downward 'twixt her eyes hard-lasht The wrinkle of command. Could ever I So foul a fiend, so fondly too, caress? Judge me not harshly, judge me by my deeds." Though seated then on Afric's further coast, Yet sudden at his voice, so long unheard, (For he had grieved and treasured up his grief) With short kind greeting meet from every side CHRYSAOE. 109 The Triton herds, and warm with melody The azure concave of their curling shells. Swift as an arrow, as the wind, as light, He glided through the deep, and now arrived, Lept from his pearly beryl-studded car. Earth trembled : the retreating tide, black-brow'd, Gather'd new strength, and rushing on, assail'd The promontory's base : but when the God Himself, resistless Neptune, struck one blow. Rent were the rocks asunder, and the sky Was darken'd with their fragments ere they fell. Lygeia vocal, Zantho yellow-hair'd, Spio with sparkling eyes, and Beroe Demure, and sweet lone, youngest-born, Of mortal race, but grown divine by song. Had he seen playing round her placid neck The sunny circles, braidless and unbound, 0! who had call'd them boders of a storm! These, and the many sister Nereids, Forgetful of their lays and of their loves. All unsuspicious of the dread intent, Stop suddenly their gambols, and with shrieks Of terror plunge amid the closing wave ; Yet, just above, one moment more appear Their darken'd tresses floating in the foam. Thrown prostrate on the earth, the Sacrilege Kais'd up his head astounded, and accurst The stars, the destinies, the gods; his breast Panted from consternation and dismay, And pride untoward on himself o'erthrown. From his dktended nostrUs issued gore At interval^^ith^?^^ his wiry locks. 110 CHEYSAOR. Huge arms, and bulky bosom, shone beslimed: And thrice he call'd his brethren, with a voice More dismal than the blasts from Phlegethon Below, that urge along ten thousand ghosts Wafted loud-wailing o'er the fiery tide. But answer heard he none: the men of might Who gather'd round him formerly, the men Whom frozen at a frown, a smile revived. Were far : enormous mountains interposed. Nor ever had the veil-hung pine out-spred O'er Tethys then her wandering leafless shade : Nor could he longer under winter stars Suspend the watery journey, nor repose Whole nights on Ocean's billowy restless bed ; No longer, bulging through the tempest, rose That bulky bosom ; nor those oarlike hands. Trusted ere mortal's keenest ken conceived The bluest shore, threw back opposing tides. Shrunken mid brutal hair his violent veins Subsided, yet were hideous to behold As dragons panting in the noontide brake. At last, absorbing deep the breath of heaven, And stifling aU within his deadly grasp. Struggling and tearing up the glebe to turn, And from a throat that, as it throbb'd and rose, Seem'd shaking ponderous links of dusky iron. Uttering one anguish-forced indignant groan. Fired with infernal rage, the spirit flew. Nations of fair Hesperia! lo, o'erthrown Your peace-embracing war-inciting king! Ah! thrice twelve years and longer ye endured. Without one effort to rise higher, one hope CHRYSAOE. Ill That heaven would wing the secret shaft aright, The abomination : hence 'twas Jove's command That many hundred, many thousand more, Freed from one despot, yet from one unfreed. Ye crouch tmblest at Superstition's feet. Her hath he sent among ye ; her the pest Of men below and curse of Gods above : Hers are the last, worst tortures they inflict On all who bend to any king but them. Born of Sicanus in the vast abyss Where never light descended, she survived Her parent; he omnipotence defied. But thunderstruck fell headlong from the clouds ; She, though the radiant ether overpower'd Her eyes, accustom'd to the gloom of night. And quencht their lurid orbs, Eehgion's helm Assuming, vibrated her Stygian torch. Til thou, Astrsea! though behind the sire's Broad egis, trembledst on thy heavenly throne. 112 LYSANDER, ALCANOR, AND PHANOE. LYSANDEE, ALCANOE, AND PHANOE. LYSANDER. Art thou grown hoarse by sitting in the sun Of early spring, when winds come down adrift To punish them they find asleep at nooni alcanor. Hoarse I am not, but I am tired of song. Therefore do I retire, where, without pipe, The goat-foot God brought aU the nymphs to sit Half-way up Maenalos. If she I love Will follow me, I swear to thee by him. Bitter to those who slight him or forswear. Thou shalt hear something sweet, do thou but stay. LYSANDER. Lysander well can stay, do thou but sing. ALCANOR. But not unless a Nymph or Nymph-hke maid WiU Listen. LYSANDER. Here comes Phanoe. Thou art pale. Sing : Phanoe ! bid him sing. PHANOE. By Artemis ! I bade him never more repeat my name. And if he disobeys me . . . LYSANDEB, ALCANOR, AND PHANOE. il3 LTSAKDER, Hush! 'twere ill To call down vengeance upon those who love : And he hath sworn by Pan that he will sing If thou wilt foUow him up Msenalos. PHANOE. He may snatch off my slipper while I kneel To Pan, upon the stone so worn aslant That it is difficult to kneel upon Without my leaving half a slipper loose. Little cares he for Pan : he scarcely fears That other, powerfuller and terribler, To whom more crowns are offered than to Zeus, Or any God beside, and oftener changed. In spring we garland him with pointed flowers, Anemone and crocus and jonquil, And tender hyacinth in clustering curls; Then with sweet-breathing mountain strawberry ; Then pear and apple blossom, promising (If he is good) to bring the fruit fuU-ripe, Hanging it round about his brow, his nose, Down even to his hps. When autumn comes. His russet vine-wreath crackles under grapes : Some trim his neck with barley, wheat, and oat; Some twine his naked waist with them : and last His reverend head is seen and worshipt through^ Stiff' narrow oUve-leaves, that last til spring. Say, ought I not to fear so wild a boy. Who fears not even him! but once has tried By force to make me pat him, after prayers'? H 114 LYSANDEE, ALCANOK, AND PHANOE. How fierce then lookt the Grod! and from above How the club reddened, as athirst for blood! Yet, fearing and suspecting the audacious, Up Msenalos I must, for there my herd Is browsing on the thorn and citisus At random. LYSANBEE. He hath not endured thy frown. But hurries off. PHANOE. And let him. LYSANDEE. Captious Pan On one or other may look evil-eyed. PHANOE. I mind my Goddess, let him mind his God. Away she went, and as she went she sang. Brief cries were heard ere long, faint and more faint. Pan ! was it thou? was it thou, Artemis'? Frohcksome kids and hard goats glassy-eyed Alone could tell the story, had they speech. The maiden came not back : but, after rites Due to the goat-foot God, the pious youth Piped shrilly forth and shook off all his woe. LACON AND DOEA. 115 LACON AND DOEA. DOEA [wakening him). Feedest thou upon poppies'? drowsy drone! LACON. Haply my breathing was a little hard. Hard it is always when I think of thee. DOEA. Do idle shepherds snort like porpuses? I know what such hard breathing means with men ; We never practise it. Practise it often. LACON. Us men ye make DOEA. Why not keep awake? LACON. Too long awake ye keep us. DOEA. When you dance; But dance makes me sleep sounder. LACON. You mistake My meaning 1 116 LACON AND DORA. DOEA. Is there anyl LACON. Day and night Of all hard breathing ye enforce the worst . . Unheeded sighs. DORA. Bad ! but the worst are those That burst from nostril; hast thou none beside? LACON. I could breathe softer in a patient ear : Sit by my side and hear the difference. DORA. Quiet now! wUt not let me seat myseK ? LACON. I would but help thee : soon we both wiU rise Together. They who sigh but once have learnt Imperfect love : beginning, middle, end, There are in all things; we have barely come Halfway. DORA. impudence! is that halfway 1 Then when, I wonder, shall we reach the end?" ACON AND KEPOS. 117 ACON AND KEPOS. ACON. Kepos ! what brings thee from the market-place ? KEPOS. What drove me from it, rather ask. ACON. Well, what? KEPOS. There was a scramble round about my stall. And two unlucky boys were fighting hard Which of them should sweep off the fruit ; at last They overturn' d the board: 'twas time to run. ACON, And were the people then indifferent? KEPOS. At first they were not ; presently they laught To see a split pomegranate's slippery fruit Drop from the fingers of the foremost two. With nothing left between them but hard rind And deeply-dyed and ever-during stain. ACON. Children of Hellas ! learn your lesson here, Nor touch pomegranate in the market-place. 118 LEONTION, RECORDING TERNISSa's DEATH. LEONTION, ON TEENISSA'S DEATH (EPICUEOS ALSO DEPAETED). Behold, behold me, whether thou Art dwelling with the Shades below Or with the Gods above : With thee were even the Gods more blest . . I wish I could but share thy rest As once I shared thy love. 'Twas in this garden where I lean Against thy tombstone, once the scene Of more than mortal bhss. That loiter'd ano.r :- Temissa ; sure She left me that her love was pure ; It gave not kiss for kiss. Faint was the blush that overspred Thro' loosen'd hair her dying head ; One name she utter'd, one She sigh'd and wept at ; so wUt thou, If any sorrows reach thee now . . 'Twas not Leontion. Wert thou on earth thou wouldst not chide The gush of tears I could not hide Who ne'er hid aught from thee. Willing thou wentest on the way She went . . and am I doom'd to stay? No; we soon meet, all three. LEONTION, RECOEDING TERNISSa's DEATH. 119 The flowers she cherisht I. will tend, Nor gather, but above them bend And think they breathe her breath. Ah, happy flowers ! ye little know Your youthful nurse lies close below, Close as in life in death. 120 HYMN AND OFFERING OF HYMN AND OFFERING OF TERPANDEE TO JUNO. I TOUCH the soil of Samos, where the queen Of heaven is worshipt, and her priests ordain'd Accept with gracious hands the gift of poor And rich alike, and even frame the prayers Of such as can not make them as beseems. What priests upon the earth so bountiful 1 What land so lovely 1 not even Rhodes, where Spring Serenely smiles at Winter's languid wrath, And where Apollo by the will of Zeus Reigns the sole God. Do thou with face benign Her^ ! take this votive vest today, Brought by no hand impure, and well besprent With lustral water, which the grateful fumes Of incense rest on, and will rest on long. Until they reach thee at thy dome above. Do thou, Herfe, lay before the throne Of Zeus all my petitions, aU. my prayers ; For well thou knowest 'twere audacious deed In me without thy intercession, queen. To plead before him for offence of mine. Or favor at the Almighty Thunderer's hands. Stand afar oif, ye unbelieving men. While I with reverence lay before the feet Of Her^ this my offering, from a woof Which maids of Sidon labored to intwine With gold and purple. Stand afar, profane. Who doubt if they who on Olympus dwell. TEKPANDER TO JUNO. 121 Wear such thin raiment when they take delight And clap their hands to see a Cloud and Wind (Eurus or Boreas or Apeliotes) Eun races on the summit in the snow. I, happy in thy worship and thy care, Seek not to vary this my happiness, Nor would partake nor would impose a yoke. I know that Love and Hymen when they meet Are apt to quarrel ; Hymen presses hard. But Love with lighter wing eludes the grasp. I shudder when I see a saffron robe And torch before it. Herfe ! I am weak ; Direct my steps, direct them to thy fane As now, and back again as now, alone. 122 sophron's hymn to bakkos. SOPHRON'S HYMN TO BAKKOS. Stand afar off, irreverent and profane, While 1 ascend the temple of a God Miraculously born; a woman's child, The nurseling of no woman, but enwrapt In the soft swatheing of a father's thigh. Hail, earthborn son of Semele and Zeus ! Earthbom yet more, and in more lands, adored Than Zeus himself. Grant me the power to sing Thy praise, thy glorious conquests to rehearse Beyond the Ganges and Gangetic iles Numberless, where fierce tigers didst thou quell, Stripping their skins from off them ere half-dead. And whirling round thy neck their tawny legs. And round thy shoulders to thy loins the length Of their rich spoils : then first did Greece behold Fangs such as never since hath Calydon Yielded, when Mel^ager was avenged. Better than victories are benefits; And these are thine too ; greater none the Gods Bestow on mortal. By thy hand the chain Is loosened on the captive, and holds down The neck of kings, who toss and toss in vain And change the pillow, right and left, and start. Dreaming they hear the heavy scepter drop. Who praises now Lykourgos ? who but shrinks At that accursed name ? 'twas he that spurn'd Thy precious gift, nor spared the graceful curl Of lucid tendrU, nor pubescent down. Nor fragrant bloom that waits the later spring. sophron's hymn to bakkos. 123 We hear what nectar is, we hear whose hand Presents it in her golden cup to Zeus, Tasting it at his nod and smile ; then he Drinks from the margin which her lips had toucht ; The nectar is not nectar until then : Thou knowest, Dionysos, thou alone, Whether it came from his own native Crete, Or from his daughter's Cypros; both produce Beverage which Hebe need not blush to bear. Is there » city, hamlet, woodland, croft, A festival without thy genial gifts. Thy presence, tho' unseen ? Is there a birth Of infant but thou gladdenest more the sire. And the sire's friends, who sing thy praise aloud 1 Thou knowest I was ever temperate And worshipt thee in purity ; thou knowest I loved the Nymphs because they fondled thee And carried thee an infant in their arms. Modest as these am I ; therefor unblamed I may invoke thee in the midst of them. One there is, Dionysos, at whose song Sorrow hath often fled from me ; do thou Incline thine ear, and haply she may sing, Altho' her songs were never framed for thee. Hail, Dionysos, once again, and bless This hospitable city ; bless the sires Of her brave sons, and them ! long may they raise The ancestral cup, and pass it friend to friend ! 124 DRIMACOS. DKIMACOS. In Crete reign'd Zeus and Minos ; and there sprang From rocky Chios (but more years between) Homer. Ah! who near Homer's side shall stand? A. slave, a slave shall stand near Homer's side. Come from dark ages forth, come, Drimacos! gems of Ocean, shining here and there Upon his vest of ever-changeful green, Eicher are ye than wide-spread continents, Eicher in thoughtful men and glorious deeds. Drimacos was a slave ; but Liberty By him from Slavery sprang, as day from night. Intolerable servitude o'erran The isle of Chios. They whose sires had heard The blind man, and the muse who sat beside, Constant, as was the daughter to the king Of Thebes, and comforting his sunless way. Yea, even these bore stones within their breasts, Buying by land or capturing by sea. And torturing limbs fashioned like their own, Limbs like the Gods' they aU fell down before. But Zeus had from Olympus lookt oblique, Then breath'd into the breasts of suflfering slaves Heroic courage and heroic strength. And wisdom for their guidance and support. Drimacos he appointed to coerce The pride of the enslaver, and to free All those who labored and were heavy-laden With griefs, not even by the avenging Gods Inflicted, wrongs which men alone inflict On others, when their vices have scoopt out DRIMACOS. 125 A yoke far more opprobrious for themselves. From field to field the clang of arms was heard ; Fires from the rocks and the hill-tops by night Collected all the valiant, aU the young. Female and male, stripling and suckling babe, By mother (then most fond) not left behind. But many were o'ertaken ; many dropt Faint by the road ; thirst, hunger, terror, seiz'd Separate their prey. Among the fugitives. In the most crowded and the narrowest path That led into the thickets on the hDl, Was Amymonfe with her infant boy, Eiarinos. She pray'd the Gods, nor prayed Inaudible, although her voice had fail'd. On Drimacos she caU'd by name ; he heard The voice; he tum'd his head, and cried aloud : " Comrades ! take up yon infant from the arms That sink with it ; and help the mother on." Far in advance was he ; aU urged amain ; AU minded their own household, nor obey'd. But he rusht back amid them till he reacht The mother, who had fallen under-foot. Trampled, but not relinquishing her hold. Scarcely was space to stoop in, yet he stoopt And rais'd what feebly wail'd among men's legs. And placed it on his head, that the fresh air Might solace it : soon it began to play. To pat the hair of some, of some the eyes, Unconscious that its mother's soul had fled. The dust rose lower, for the siiltry day Was closing, and above shone Hesperus Alone. On mossy banks within the brake 126 DRIMACOS. The men threw down their weapons snatcht in haste, Impenetrable woods received their flight. And shelter'd and conceal'd them from pursuit. There many years they dwelt; nor only there, But also in the plains and in the towns Fought they, and overthrew the wealthier race, And drove their cattle off and reapt their grain. Drimacos, strong in justice, strong in arms. Prompt, vigilant, was everywhere obey'd. He proffer'd the proud Chiots, half-subdued, Eepression of invaders, in return For their repression of invaders too, And corn and wine and oU enough for all, And horned victims to avenger Zeus. But plenteousness and sloth relaxt his hold Upon a few, men yearning to partake The vices of a city : murmurs rose And reacht the ear of Drimacos, and reacht The wealthy towns and their impatient lords. Rewards were offered for the leader's head. And askt perhaps ere offered. When he found Ingratitude so nigh and so alert. He listened calmly to the chiefs around. His firm defenders; then replied: " My friends! Already in the days of youth ye watcht Over the common-weal, but now your eyes And mine too want repose. Fear not for me. But guard yourselves. The Gods who placed me here Call me away, not you." They heard, and went, Sorrowing. Then call'd he unto him the youth DRIMACOS. 127 Eiarinos, who two whole years had fought Beside him, and fought well. "Eiarinos! I may have saved thy life ('tis said I did) In infancy : it now behoves me, boy, To give thee substance such as parents give. Alas! 'tis wanting : nought is in the house Save arms, as thou weU knowest ; but those men Who left me now, had talkt with thee before. And there are marks along thy cheek which tears Leave upon maiden's cheeks, not upon men's. Eiarinos spake not, but threw his arms Around his guardian's neck and shook with grief. " Thou shalt not be quite destitute, my son!" Said he, " Thou knowest what reward awaits Him who shall bring my head within the town. Here! strike! let never traitor grasp the gold." Forward he held the hilt and lowered his brow. " Bequeathest thou to parricidal hand, father! that accursed goldl " cried he. And ran against the portal, blind with tears. But the calm man now caught his arm, and said, " Delay may bring on both what comes for one. Inevitable is my death : at least Promise me this one thing, Eiarinos, •And I release thee : swear that, when I die, Thou wUt, against aU adversaries, bear My head to those who seek it, pledge of peace." Calmer, but sobbing deep, the youth replied, " When Zeus the liberator shall appoint The pastor of the people to depart. His wiU be done! if such be his and thine." 1 28 DEIMACOS. He lowered his eyes in reverence to the earth; And Drimacos then smote into his breast The unaccepted sword. The pious youth Fell overpowered with anguish, nor arose Until the elders, who had gone, retum'd. They comforted the orphan, and implored He would perform the duty thus enjoined. Nor Muse, nor Memory her mother, knows The sequel: but upon the highest peak Of Chios is an altar of square stone Koughened by time, and some believe they trace In ancient letters, cubit-long, the words Drimacos and Eiarinos and Zeus. PINDAR AND HIEEO. 129 PINDAR AND HIEEO. HIBKO. « PiNDAK ! no few are theie among my guests Who lift up eyebrows archt and rounded eyes To hear thee talk as they do. Poets grin And whisper, He is one of us, not more, Tho' higher in . . I think they also add Our foolish kin^s esteem. PINDAR. ■ W o do not foo d On rac e horse flesh, nor driv e th e charriot wh oe l s Upon t h e table . - Ev e n In verse I sing Not always dithyrambics. I may lift Weak- mortal over an admiring crowd, And I may hear and heed not their applause, A part whereof is given to him who fed The steeds, a part to him who drove, a part At last to me. HIERO. My friend ! the steeds are gone. The charrioteers will follow : Death pursues And overtakes the fleetest of them aU : He may pant on untU his ribs are crackt, He never shall reach thee. Believe one word A king hath spoken . . Ages shall sweep off AU lighter things, but leave thy name behind. 1 lyO PINDAR AND HXERO. PINDAR. I was amused at hearing the discourse Of our wise judges, when their maws were fill'd. About soT^e poets of the present day. » HIERO. ■ I did not hear it. I would not surcharge Thy memory, 'twere unfriendly ; but perchance A tittle of the tattle may adhere Stil to thy memory, as on amber hairs That some loose wench hath combed into the street : If so, pray let me have it. PINDAR. An old friend Of mine had represented the grave sire Of poets, in the Ue of Ithaca, Conversing with Laertes. HIERO. He was wrong. Homer lived some time after him. PINDAR. Who knows 1 Howbeit, the worst complaint was that a king Spoke of stale bread, and offered it his guest. HIERO. Ithaca is not Sicily : the rocks Of that poor iland bear no crops of wheat ; Laertes might not eveiy day have spared PINDAE AND HIERO. IcJl The scanty brushwood for the oaten cake. Wine, I will wager, your old friend hath jogg'd The generous host to lay upon the board. PINDAR. And both converst as other men converse. The poet is no poet at all hours, The hero is no hero with a friend. HIEEO. The virtuous, the valiant, and the wise. Have ever been thy friends, and they alone. PINDAE. Few have I found, and fewer have I sought. Apart I chose to stand. The purest air Breathes o'er high downs on solitary men. Thou smilest, king Hiero, at my words. Who seest me in thy court. HIERO. No, no, my friend ! PINDAR. We must not penetrate the smile of kings. There may be secrets in it. HIERO. Open mine ; There is but one for thee ; and it is this ; 'Tis written on no scroll, but on my heart ; 132 PINDAR AND HIBRO. Coinmand I dare not call it, though I would . . Pindar is Pindar, Hiero is but king. PINDAR. Embolden'd when I ought to be abasht, I venture now to question thee. HIERO. Obey. Sprinkle a drop of Lethe on the fount Of sparkling Dirce, nor remember Thebes, Or him alone remember, him whose harp Rais'd up her walls, which harp thou strikest now "With hand more potent than Amphion's was. Here shalt thou dwell in honor, long thy due, And sing to us thy even-song of life. TO CORINTH. 133 TO CORINTH. Queen of the double sea, beloved of him Who shakes the world's foundations, thou hast seen Glory in all her beauty, aU her forms ; Seen her walk back with Theseus when he left The bones of Sciron bleaching to the wind, Above the ocean's roar and cormorant's flight, So high that vastest billows from above Show but like herbage wa-song in the mead; Seen generations throng thy Isthmian games, And pass away ; the beautiful, the brave, And them who sang their praises. But, Queen, Audible stiU, and far beyond thy cliffs, As when they first were utter'd, are those words Divine which praised the valiant and the just; And tears have often stopt, upon that ridge So perilous, him who brought before his eye The Colchian babes. "Stay! spare him! save the last! Medea! Is that blood 1 again! it drops From my imploring hand upon my feet! I will invoke the Eumenides no more, I wiLL forgive thee, bless thee, bend to thee In aU thy wishes, do but thou, Medea, Tell me, one lives." "And shall I too deceived' Cries from the fiery car an angry voice; And swifter than two falling stars descend. Two breathless bodies; warm, soft, motionless. As flowers in stillest noon before the sun, They lie three paces from him : such they lie As when he left them sleeping side by side, 134 TO CORINTH. A mother's arm round each, a mother's cheeks Between them, flusht with happiness and love. He was more changed than they were, doomed to show Thee and the stranger, how defaced and scarr'd Grief hunts us down the precipice of years. And whom the faithless prey upon the last. To give the inertest masses of our earth Her loveliest forms, was thine ; to fix the Gods Within thy walls, and hang their tripods round With fruits and foKage knowing not decay. A nobler work remains : thy citadel Invites all Greece : o'er lands and floods remote Many are the hearts that still beat high for thee : Confide then in thy strength, and unappall'd Look down upon the plain, while yokemate kings Eun bellowing where their herdsmen goad them on. Instinct is sharp in them and terror true. They smell the floor whereon their necks m;ist lie. CLEONE TO ASPASIA. 135 CLEONE TO ASPASIA. We mind not how the sun in the mid-sky Is hastening on ; but when the golden orb Strikes the extreme of earth, and when the gulphs Of air and ocean open to receive him. Dampness and gloom invade us ; then we think Ah! thus is it with Youth. Too fast his feet Eun on for sight ; hour follows hour ; fair maid Succeeds fair maid ; bright eyes bestar his couch ; The cheerful horn awakens him; the feast, The revel, the entangling dance, allure, And voices mellower than the Muse's own Heap" up his buoyant bosom on their wave. A little while, and then . . Ah Youth! Youth! Youth! Listen not to my words . . but stay with me! When thou art gone, Life may go too ; the sigh That rises is for thee, and not for Life. 136 PTOLEMY AND THEOCKITOS. PTOLEMY AND THEOCKITOS. PTOLEMy. Pleasant art thou, Theocritos ! The pair Thou broughtest forward to our festival Of yesterday, Praxinoe and Gorgo, Are "worthy pair for Aristophanes, Had he been living, to have brought on stage : Even grave Menander, wittiest of the wise. Had smiled and caught thee by the hand for this. THEOCEITOS. Ah ! to be witty is hard work sometimes. 'Tis easier to lie down along the grass, Where there is any, grass there none is here. PTOLEMY. But here are couches where we may repose And dream as easily. Thy dreams were all For Sicily, about the Nymphs and swains. THEOCMTOS. It seems an easier matter to compose Idyls of shepherds and of little Gods Than great heroic men. PTOLEMY. Thou hast done both. THEOCRITOS. Neither is easy. Grass in Sicily Is slippery, scant the turf and hard to tread. PTOLEMY AND THEOCRITOS. 137 The sheep oft wonder, and crowd close, at sight Of venturous shepherd, putting pipe to Kp And, ere he blow it, sprawling heels in air. I have sung hymns ; but hymns with fuller breath Are chaunted by my friend KaUimakos. PTOLEMY. Friend ! strange man ! poet call -poet friend ! If my good genius brought thee hither, thanks We both may pay him. THEOCRITOS. WeU indeed may I. PTOLEMY. What ! for disturbing dreams of Nymphs and swains. And whispering leaves of platan and of pine ? Sweet whispers ! but with sweeter underneath. THEOCRITOS. No ; but for banishing far different ones, Such as were facts in our fair Sicily. Had kings Hke Ptolemy been living then, However far removed this empire lies, Phalaris never had shut up within His brazen buU the bravest and the best. PTOLEMY. Kings have their duties : it concerns them all To take good heed that none betray their trust. Lest odious be the name, and they themselves Fall thro the crime of one : the crowns they wear 138 PTOLEMY AXD THEOCRITUS. Make some hot-headed, nearly all weak-eyed. 'Tis written how this bull went close behind, Bellowing his thunders, belching smoke and flame. Wherever that king went. THEOCEITOS. No fiction, sire. Of poets, or historians, who feign more. PTOLEMY. Pleasanter in our -^g3rpt be thy dreams ! Come, let me hear the latest ; speak it out. THEOCRITOS. Last night, beneath the shadow of a sphynx I fancied I was lying, and I dream'd Only of placid Gods and generous kings. PTOLEMY. Knave ! knave ! on neither shall thy dream be vain. ODE TO MILETUS. 139 ODE TO MILETUS. Maiden there was whom Jove Illuded into love, Happy and pure was she; Glorious from her the shore became, And Helle lifted up her name To shine eternal o'er the river-sea. And many tears are shed Upon thy bridal-bed. Star of the swimmer in the lonely night! Who with unbraided hair Wipedst a breast so fair. Bounding with toil, more bounding with delight. But they whose prow hath past thy straits And, ranged before Byzantion's gates, Bring to the God of sea the victim due. Even from the altar raise their eyes. And drop the chalice with surprise. And at such grandeur have forgotten you. At last there swells the hymn of praise. And who inspires those sacred lays'? " The founder of the walls ye see." What human power could elevate Those walls, that citadel, that gate? " Miletos, my sons ! was he." 140 ODE TO MILETCS. Hail then, Miletus! hail beloved town, Parent of me and mine! But let not power alone be thy renown, Nor chiefs of ancient line. Nor visits of the Gods, unless They leave their thoughts below. And teach us that we most should bless Those to "whom most we owe. Restless is Wealth; the nerves of Power Sink, as a lute's in rain : The Gods lend only for an hour And then call back again All else than Wisdom; she alone, In Truth's or Virtue's form, Descending from the starry throne Thro' radiance and thro' storm, Remains as long as godlike men Afford her audience meet. Nor Time nor War tread down again The traces of her feet. Always hast thou, Miletus, been the friend, Protector, guardian, father, of the wise ; Therefore shall thy dominion never end Till Fame, despoil'd of voice and pinion, dies. ODE TO MILETUS. 141 With favouring shouts and flowers thrown fast behind, Arctinos ran his race. No wanderer he, alone and blind . . And Melesander was untom by Thrace. There have been, but not here, Eich men who swept aside the royal feast On child's or bondman's breast. Bidding the wise and aged disappear. Eevere the aged and the wise, Aspasia ! but thy sandal is not worn To trample on these things of scorn; By his own sting the fire-bound scorpion dies. 142 THE FAMINE IN BTRUEIA. THE FAMINE IN ETRUEIA.* Beyond the confines of a race cognate, Pelasgic, and their hunger well appeas'd, Had travel'd the Etrurians : age alone Would have protected them throughout all lands When it was widely known they sought the God At Delphi ; now they stood beneath his fane. But some of them had rashly pluckt the boughs Of bay in passing ; when a voice was heard In modulated tones ; and these the words. Impious the man who snaps the budding hay. Or bruizes it, thus hastening its decay : This may be pardon' d in the goats and swine ; Brutes hnow not what is awful and divine. Obedient were they all. When they approacht The temple, one alone received a branch. And he was bidden to come forth and speak. Then came he forth and, kneeling, thus spake he. " The springs are sunk into the earth again. Thou seest, Apollo, who seest all below. And, where the fountains bubbled up, the bats Widen their wings and crouch, nor seek for flies, For even the flies around are dead with drought, And the thin knats, now thinner, cease to whirr. * Dionysius of Halicarnassus records this famine and its conse- quences, adding the appeal to the oracle, which oracle demanded, in addition to arrears, a tenth of the males. After this their calamity, the Etrurians, who were the Japanese of Europe three thousand yeai's ago, in civility and industry, lost the dominion of Italy, stil observing the oracle, and devoting a tenth of their possessions and of their children to their Gods' vicegerent and subordinates. THE FAMINE IN ETRURIA. 143 Nob only the light wanderers of the air. The very serpents, mother Earth's first-born, And living in all lands, live not with us. Python, the glory of thy silver bow. Would not have rais'd his threatening head, but croucht At his full length, and panted, not defied. Piteous it is, if we can pity now Aught but ourselves, to see the oxe's ribs White under him who drove them to the field. And drying as they drop his bitter tears. Where now the poppy-crown? where harvest-home?" Fain would I rest upon a thought so sweet, If sweet be any thought of happiness Departed, and hope with it. Worse remains. A mother had no heart to kiU her babe, But offered it to one who had: he said A plumper turnip was too high a price ; And she turn'd back in anger and in scorn . . But soon (even scorn and anger sank) return'd, For she had one babe left, and one might live. The God was deaf to every prayer ; at length They sought his oracle with better hopes ; Then said he from his inner shrine. " 'Tis here. Here only should ye seek me, wUlful men ! Depart ; and sacrifice to me the tenth Of all that earth may bear to you henceforth. After due reverence to the priest ordain'd To take it ; he will lustrate you and bless Your children." 144 THE FAMINE IN ETKURIA. ^ c^^/^V Joyous they^/etam'd, tf joy Evor found entrance in sucli-1^^ abodes. They brought the priest his tenth : he scowl'd on them. " Bring the tenth chUd," cried he " The God we serve Delights in song, and song our God must have." " Few are now left us " said the weeping sires, And hunger leaves not even voice behind, Nor are aU fit for it." " Begone, perverse ! " Cried he . . " but ere ye go I promise ye We of our temple can bring voices out. And they shall warble ia our sacred choir : The virgins we wiU shut from eyes profane." Sorrowing the Etrurians led their children forth Devoted to the God of light and song. THE ALTAR OT MODESTY. 145 THE ALTAE OF MODESTY. SooK as tlie stranger turns his step away From Lacedsemon, and pursues the road Toward the towers of Elis, where a ford Whitens with rippling wave the river-bank. Sacred to Modesty an altar stood. Hither the gentle Leda brought her chUd, Her Helena, whom Theseus had borne off. And thus reproved her, by none other heard. " How couldst thou, Helena, leave house and home And parent, and twin brothers, bright as stars 1 With what discourse could Theseus tempt thee hence'? He is not tender, is not bland, nor chaste, Nor even young. I too Was once beguiled By a white stately swan I loved to feed, Who drove the rest away that followed him ; And wicked Theseus, then a boy, laught loud Seeing my downcast eyes ; and, when I tum'd To chide him. Ah poor Leda ! whined the rogue. Once as I watcht him wrestling in the ring, Me, tho' I stood far distant, he espied And waddled nearer, and whined childishly Poor Leda ! what a pity ! naughty swan ! And Shaped his lips as deftly as he could Into a beak ; then from a reed within Whistled low querulous notes, as swan may do ; Lastly, to crown his impudence, drew wings Over his shoulders, shaking them outspred. Where am I rambling 1 W^hat has this to do K 146 THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. With such a folly as was his and thine 1 TeU me . . now we are seated . . all that past." Then Helena . . but first sigh'd more than once. " Blamable was our guest, but worse his friend Pirithoos, who extol'd me far above All other Spartan maids, and earnestly Pointed me out to him. No, never more In presence of Pirithoos will I dance. Afraid to celebrate Diana's games." " I want to hear of Theseus, not of him " Said Leda. She obeyed. " He prais'd the land Of Cecrops, its convivial hours, its girls Waving a golden tettinx in their hair. Yet Helena's prefer'd he unadom'd. Brave, said he, were his countrimen, and mild And facil were their Gods ; not Pallas' self Beheld them ever with unkindly glance. Standing among the Graces, and but shook Her head at any little fault of theirs. Harp, song, and dance, beneath the olive-trees. He promist me, on turf where tymbrels shed Showers of white blossoms on the sandal'd feet : And then in autumn what rites and games ! Such as when Bakkos, India's kings subdued And India's tigers crouching under him, Pronounced this one command, Be happy aU ! Yet Theseus was himself most miserable ; He said it, and, as if it were a crime To suffer, humbly prayed me to forgive. I was not merciless ; it was enough To seem so in the midst of tears and sighs. THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. 147 ' Who would/ said I, " prefer the cares of love That could beneath the shade of friendship rest And hear the praises of himself and friend ; Thine is Pirithoos, flourishing in youth And ready to learn anjrthing from thee, And any danger at thy side incur, Nearer to thee in years, and beautiful As was the royal youth an eagle bore From Ida, beautifid as he who fell Beneath ApoUo's quoit ; but never hope With me such praises ; never hope to calm (Whatever thou persuadest me) my fears.' Then he. ' Not always is the ear content With praises, nor with friendship is the breast : Of this the girls of Sparta seem aware, And often chide me for it. When we reach Pandion's city thou shalt prove thro life Fond is the lover as is firm the friend.' I answered, ' There are others thou hast left, Perfidious Theseus, in that He afar Where tower a hundred cities.' Mother dear. Now listen what he own'd and what denied. We know how cruel Minos was, what law When he had conquered Athens he imposed ; Which to avoid, the father sfeht his "son Hither ; strong, ardent, uncohtrolable, ' Away he burst to lands where Zeus was born, And there he slew the Minotaur : the thread That guided him throughout that labyrinth's Intricate turns was jAriadne's gift. Nor was he faithless to her, but he loved 148 THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. Me better, and he swore by every God Of late propitious to him, he who left Wealth, kingdom, beauty, should be mine alone ; Mine marble palaces, Hymettos mine. And that sweet honey from those thymy knolls Where only bees have anything to do. Now, mother ! should I, can I, tell you more ■? My poor old prying nurse, who really knows Many things, but imagines she knows more. Thinking I must be weary and might want To rest my ankles higher than the floor, Lifted up one above the couches edge ; Then down she stoopt that she might better peer. Well I remember it, because she trod On my loose hair ; then doubling under her Both knees, she looked quite close, sagaciously. Then, rising up, she spat behind her back, And then ran out, lifting in wonderment Her head aloft and spreading out both arms. Exclaimed, Zeus ! Zeus ! he prais'd ! he hath pre- served His child : then muttered she with scornful voice, A hero..' of. mad heroes most insane ! He indeed ! he slay Minotaurs ! I now Believe he left the virgin on the shore Of Dia ; what could he do else ? age Degenerate ! which for prowess can but boast Such men as Theseus and Alcides are. Ah ! in my day . . but all such days are past." These words repeated by the unwary maid Sooth'd Leda's breast ; and softly fell her tears. Softly too IqU her daughter's at the sight.. THE ALTAK OF MODESTY. 149 " Mother, I think I did not love him much, I am quite sure I do not love him now, And why I went with him I can not guess. Do not be angry ; he will be ashamed To come again, ashamed as much as I. If I had not retum'd you might have been A little sorry, certainly I should, But here you see me fresh and fond as ever." After a while said Leda, " Thou hast told The happier part, and now relate the rest. Nor canst thou do it in a fitter place ; For here Odysseus* (unlike thy return) Beneath love's chaster torches carried home Penelope. Her sire Icarios, Altho he had approved the worthy choice, Altho he had invited to his house The future son, and altho far beyond AU others, brave, and wary,, and expert In household thrift was Laertiades, And safe, with rocks around, his Uand stood, Felt now the grief a parent ever feels To lose a child. The nuptial festival Proroged his sorrows with his guests about, For Bakkos wound Math ivy and with flowers Together Age and Youth upon that day. AH was well then, and jocimd dreams enwrapt The soundly sleeping sire : but when arose * Odysseus here recovers his proper name instead of Ulysses, he being neither Roman nor English. But it is only where those of his country are supposed to be speaking : in us it would be aflecta- tion : with us he is naturalized. 1 50 THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. Morn, and he saw the coronels collapst Droop down the chamber door, and heard the neigh Of steeds, and saw the broken cates removed From the piled table, then, ah then indeed Sorrow, awhile remoter, prest again Upon his temples, his ears sob'd, his knees Gave way." Then shuddered Helena, and said, " How cruel was Odysseus thus to pain Poor old Icarios." " Crueller," replied Leda, " is she who seeks a home unknown Leaving a parent ignorant of her flight." Strong as may grief be, curiosity Creeps over and beyond it. Leda, calm'd. Could now resume her questioning ; she askt What caus'd her error : Helena would turn The question, and entreated to know more About Penelope, and what result. " Grant, ye Gods ! she may be safe at home !" Leda could now but smile, with gentle palm Patted her cheek, and from her bosom drew With finger slipping back the chin that dropt Into it, obstinate to keep its place. Then Helena, first looking round about. Pursued her narrative. " I will relate The whole ; for now I see you will not ask Such idle questions as the nurse, insane, Else how could she deem me so tiger-like As bite 1 She gave me signs by nod and wink. THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. 151 Finding her words convey no sense at all : Hardly such rudeness can the crone object To sister Clytemnestra : well you know, Sweet mother, that your Helena was taught Far diflferent manners, nor would, even tho hurt. Use tooth or naU, but tremble as the strings Of a lyre tremble if swept all at once." Leda, to hide her blushes, prest her face On the fresh herbage, fearing to look up. And twitcht unconsciously the brittle grass. " He did not hurt thee, then ? " " Quite the reverse ; He swore he would not, and he kept his word : Instead of hurting, he protected me Completely." " ye Gods above !" exclaimed The mother in alarm. " Ah what a tale ! Yet, yet, go on with it ; lay bare the whole And end with it my pangs of grief and fear. Thou hast been shown by me that even the shy Have err'd from steddiness ; how far hast thou ! If more austere thy sister than befits. If at the wanton boys she stamps her foot. Thou art too ready to incline an ear To their excuses. I have seen thee stand. Trip on, turn back, and ask what can they mean. And wait, nor over-readUy dismiss The laughing urchins with responsive laugh. Nature may throw a gloom o'er Modesty But she serenes the brow with purer light. Light pure as on Olympos Gods enjoy." 152 THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. She paus'd, and sigh'd. Commanded to confess, The daughter said, " A grove there is not far Beyond the city, but from thence unseen. Because the city and the little hill Conceal, it ; there in winter runs a brook, But at this season its steep crumbling banks Are join'd together by a fallen oak The winds have thrown there: boughs and bark afford An easy, passage over. Theseus lept Prom the low car that bore us : when we reacht The farther side, percieving my alarm He laid me on the grass, with gentlest hand Pressing my bosom to allay my fear, And often was it careful to provide That neither stick, nor stone beneath, nor bent Should harm me ; for the bent in woods is stiff." While she all this was saying, Leda's breath Blew hard and thick upon her braided hair. " Nemesis will o'ertake thee," she sigh'd out, " Unless thou tell it all from first to last." Now somewhat less dissembling, thus adjured, Helena spake again. " To bring back all Into my mind, so hurried by the road. The rapine, the recovery, and the spears Of my two brothers thrust against the reins. Is hard. The lover, lately so submiss, Grew furious and sprang down : first to himself He muttered, then to me ; he bade me go, THE ALTAE OF MODESTY. 153 He bade me stay. We hear the tramp of steeds. Away, cried he, and threw me on the car. . But my two brothers had come up : the bits Drawn tightly in, the javelins vibrated. Stay, robber ! they exclame, their angry eyes GlariQg like stars that struggle with a stream. What! arm'd agaivM the unarrrCd! cried he in scorn, Turning aside the points with open hand, Off, hoys ! what, would ye ? think ye that I dread Your javelins f no; your youth, your parenta^ge. Awes me ; take homeward, take with you unharm'd Your virgin sister ; for the Powers above Have by sure omen disapproved my deed. Thus he ; and they abstained : then, to himself. Patiently bear thy vuUur, patiently Look down from thy chain' d neck and. watch uptorne Thy growing liver by insatiate beak ; Rest, Pi'ometheus, on the piercing flir^ts. Endure the lightning on unclosing eyes, Never hast thou endured love tome away Upon the threshold from thine open arms." The maiden blusht as she began the tale And sorrowed as she closed it : half afraid Her mother might observe her, she besought The sequel of Penelope : aware Of her devices, Leda sweetly gazed And thus began to moralize her tale. " On those united by an equal love Smiles every morning, every evening brings Fresh hymenseals : youthful maid should find A youthful husband ; such be thine, my child, And ever mindful how chaste love excells 154 THE ALTAE OP MODESTY. Unchaste, be thou Penelope, be thine Odysseus. I related how it grieved Icarios to have bid his child fareweU. At first he turn'd away his tearful eyes. And rested on the lintel of the door His troubled brow ; but soon he heard the tramp Of the car-horses and the rolling wheels That grated near, then where the stones no more Paved the highway and sounds came indistinct. Brought to him only by the fitful breeze, Eushing out wildly thro the city gate, Broken in spirit, weak in sight, he saw Odysseus, who had slackened now the reins To hear more leisurely the low discourse Of his beloved. Thro deep husky groans, In broken voice, Restore my child ! he cried. True, I did yield her to thee ; not so deaf Wast thou that day, no, nor thai day was I Childless as now thou makest me: restore My only daughter, my heart's sole delight. My age's sole support. Thee many a maid May please as well as she. give her back In pity, or come with me both again. Odysseus heard and checkt and loost the reins. The gentle daughter threw her left arm round The old man's neck, and sooth'd his wrinkled cheek With her warm tears : the youth had paus'd, then spake. Me Sparta might detain, me might the home Of our Penelope, bvi home have I, THE ALTAR OF MODESTY. 155 Hcmie, people, aged sire, and household gods. Neglected never mth impunity. PuMs! if thou art pious, said the sire. Restore her : she is willing, as thou seest. Let her then choose, said he of Ithaca. Penelope cast down her pallid brow While her right hand held tight the hero's vest, And sobs shook heavily her struggling heart. Choose, choose Icarios cried ; remember her Who bore thee ; pity me. Fierce tortures wrung Nor broke her silence. SpeaJs, Penelope ! Said softly her Odysseus. Round the neck Paternal stU her arm was left, her face Turn'd to the other side, her veil drawn close. Heavy with tears, until with groan and gasp The weak neck feU upon the neck less weak. Sorrowful, and yet proud at heart, return'd Icarios home : the elders his compeers Came forth and envied him and soon consoled : Hence was devoted (why wert thou away?) That low turf altar rais'd to Modesty." 156 IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON. IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON. Iphigeneia, when she heard her doom At Aulis, and when all beside the king Had gone away, took his right-hand, and said, " father! I am young and very happy. I do not think the pious Calchas heard Distinctly what the Goddess spake. Old-age Obscures the senses. If my nurse, who knew My voice so well, sometimes misunderstood While I was resting on her knee both arms And hitting it to make her mind my words. And looking in her face, and she in mine. Might not he also hear one word amiss. Spoken from so far off, even from Olympus 1" The father placed his cheek upon her head, And tears dropt down it, but the king of men Eeplied not. Then the maiden spake once more. " father! sayst thou nothing? Hearst thou not Me, Avhom thou ever hast, until this hour, Listen'd to fondly, and awaken'd me To hear my voice amid the voice of birds, "When it was inarticulate as theirs, And the down deadened it within the nest?" He moved her gently from him, silent stU, And this, and this alone, brought tears from her, Altho' she saw fate nearer : then with sighs, " I thought to have laid down my hair before Benignant Artemis, and not have dimm'd Her polisht altar with my virgin blood ; I thought to have selected the white flowers To please the Nymphs, and to have askt of each IPHIGENEIA AND AGAMEMNON. 157 By name, and with no sorrowful regret, Whether, since both my parents will'd the change, I might at Hymen's feet bend my dipt brow; And (after these who mind us girls the most) Adore our own Athena,* that she would Eegard me mildly with her azure eyes. But, father! to see you no more, and see Your love, father ! go ere I am gone . ." Gently he moved her off, and drew her back. Bending his lofty head far over her's. And the dark depths of nature heaved and burst. He turn'd away ; not far, but silent stU. She now first shudder'd ; for in him, so nigh. So long a sUence seem'd the approach of death, And like it. Once again she rais'd her voice, " father! if the ships are now detain'd. And all your vows move not the Gods above, When the knife strikes me there will be one prayer. The less to them : and purer can there be Any, or more fervent than the daughter's prayer For her dear father's safety and success?" A groan that shook him shook not his resolve. An aged man now enter'd, and without One word, stept slowly on, and took the wrist Of the pale maiden. She lookt up, and saw The fillet of the priest and calm cold eyes. Then turn'd she where her parent stood, and cried " father! grieve no more: the ships can sail." * Pallas Athena was the patroness of Argos. 158 PENELOPE AND PHEIDO. PENELOPE AND PHEIDO. PHEIDO. Ha ! what strange stories these old people teU ! WiU you believe me, gracious lady queen 1 Yesterday-eve behind this figtree sate Melantheus and that idler Iros, he Who breaks more bread than the best workman earns, And seem'd contending which should lie the most. . PENELOPE. What did they talk about 1 PHEIDO. Why, they discourst About our lord, be sure, as all men do. Iros, who scratcht his shoulder, said he tried To shirk the ships that were afloat for Troy. I could weU-nigh have smitten him, but thought So wise a man, with such a queen for wife, So beautiful, so provident of corn And oil and wine, must suddenly have lost His wits, by sun-stroke, or magician's wand Or witches charm, to leave her willingly. PENELOPE. Willingly not, but duteously; the Gods Urged him, and he obey'd : the chiefs of Greece Knew that they wanted much his prudent mind, Kings tho they were, to counsel them aright. PENELOPE AND PHEIDO. 159 There was no folly in their thinking so. Brave as he was, he would have staid at home, But HeUas rose in arms to punish fraud And rapine. When he left me, tears he shed, Which he had never done but on that day When on his mother's breast he cried for milk And milk was there no longer. He was born For glory. PHEIDO. sweet, mistress ! what is that ? PENELOPE. To carry arms, and quell thereby the proud. PHEIDO. Here are no robbers in these blessed realms. Here in our Ithaca no boars, no wolves No dragons : glory then is gone abroad. Unless it may be fovind in cestuses. PENELOPE. But there are monarks, far across the sea. Proud monarks, and they boast of sons as proud, Who steal the wives of those who trusted them. And purple robes therewith and treasured gold And silver. PHEIDO. May the Gods guide safely home Our master! Will he bring back purple robes. Silver, and gold ? he should have more than half. 160 PENELOPE AND PHEIDa But those purple robes ! how they wiH suit The lovely shoulders of our gracious queen. Do thou, Poseidon, let them come unhurt Upon our shores ; for thy salt waves might wash The colour out ; chide them, forbid them thou ! Pray to him, sweet lady ! for your prayers Will reach him sooner than your handmaid's could ; Beside, the wealthy always can prevail With gifts ; and upon Neritos are kids And goats in plenty, easy to be caught If they Imow Gods are waiting. PENELOPE. We wiU think About this matter ; but Laertes first Must be consulted : he knows every kid And goat upon the rocks there. Now lay by' The yarn, and leave this figtree for yon vines, Where I can trust thee better than the rest Of all my maidens ; for thy truthful tongue Never laid blame upon the wasp when gaps I found among the bunches ; go, and cuU The ripest ; thou shalt have two figs for each. PHEIDO. All the blue figs lie slit upon the wall For winter use, and little lizards keep, With never-closing eye and panting heart, Watch and ward over them against the flies And ants, and hold those fast with viscous tongue, Sharp-pointed, swiftly out and swiftly in. PENELOPE AND PHEIDO. 161 The green and yellow are nngafchered yet Mostly. Telemakos is tall enough To help me up with hand below my heel, And shoulder close against the trunk applied. PENELOPE. Telemakos pUes other work : he mends The nets to catch those busy birds that hang Tail downward and inflict sad wounds on fig. Away ! but come back soon, and then for woof. Idleness ill befits a royal house : The husbandman, who labors hard may rest In the midday, and thereby shorten night. 162 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. HELENA. Wheee am 11 ye blessed ones above. Desert me not ! ye Twain who brought me hither ! Was it a dream ? Stranger! thou seemest thoughtful ; Couldst thou not answer me 1 why silent 1 speak, I do implore thee. ACHILLES. Neither they nor feet Of mules have borne thee where thou standest, Helena ! Whether 'twas in the hour of early sleep Or whether 'twas in morning's, know I not. But Aphrodite, listening to my prayer. And Thetis with her, gentle as herself. Have wafted thee into these solitudes. And to me also pointed out the way, That I the pride of Sparta might behold And the Earth's marvel. How my heart expands, But agonizes too, at thee, the cause To Hellas of innumerable woes. HELENA. * Stranger ! thy voice, thy stature, and thy mien Approve thee one whom Goddesses and Gods Might well conduct and glory in ; but who, If earthly, art thou ? ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 1G3 ACHILLES. Son of Peleus am I. Tremble not, turn not pale, bend not thy knee. HELENA. Spare me, thou Goddess-bom ! thou cherisht son Of silver-footed Thetis ! Sure, Chryseis And she who rais'd within thy generous breast More pity than disdain for cruel wrong, Briseis, now might soften it : lead not Me too into captivity. Ah ! woes I have brought down on Hellas ; on myself Have fallen woes, and will for ever fall. ACHILLES. Daughter of Zeus! what words are thine! they raise No pity in my breast, none needest thou Within my reach to give, but bitter wrath Thou raisest at indignity and wrong. Chryseis, daughter of that aged priest Who in this land performs due sacrifice To his ApoUo, was another's lot. Insolent and unworthy, he hath brought More sorrows on our people even than thou. And dogs and vultures prey upon the brave Who fell without a wound. Mine is indeed Briseis, chaste and beautiful Briseis, He contumatious, proud at once and base Would tear her from me. Gods above ! what land Behold ye where the wolf hath dared to seize 164 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. Kid which a lion hath taken. Never fear Mortal shall lead thee into servitude ; What impious wretch would dare it 1 hath not Zeus Thundered above these mountains 1 Doth not he. Wide-seeing, see all earth but Ida 1 watch Over all creatures but his progeny 1 Capaneus and Typhoeus less offended Than would the wretch whose grasp should violate The golden hair of Helena. Tremblest thou, Irresolute, distrustful 1 HELENA. I must tremble, And more and more. ACHILLES. Then take my hand. HELENA. And may 1 1 May I ? and hold it 1 I am comforted, ACHILLES. The scene around us, calm and silent, ought To comfort thee : turiiest thou to survey it ? Perhaps it is unknown to thee. HELENA. 'Tis so. Since my arrival I have never gone Beyond the city-walls. ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 165 ACHILLES. Gaze freely then, Perplext no longer. Pleasant are these downs. Pleasant the level eminence, by broom Surrounded, and with myrtle underneath And crispleaved beech and broad dark pine above. Eare place for boars : why are my dogs at home. And where for sylvan sport my leisure hours. HELENA, But those are gloomy places, not so this. Frightful are boars and wolves and such like things. But here how pretty is the slender grass Bent by the glossy insects as they climb Or light upon it, or upon the taU Sisterhoods of grey lavender ! their names I recoUect now I have found them here Within this very hour and seen them close. The dark-eyed cistus and gay citisus. Are here too. ACHILLES. Wonderful ! how coul'^st thou learn To name so many plants ? HELENA. I could name ten. Look ! see the little troops of serpolet Running in wild disorder here and there. Thou knowest these perhaps and many more. 166 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. ACHILLES. Keiron taught me, while walking at his side And he was culling herbs to cure the hurt His brother Centaurs might in play recieve. Wonderous his knowledge ; I was proud to learn. Sometimes he seated me and made me sing : Sometimes he took the lyre and sang himself. At intervals I catch the fleeting words He sang to me. HELENA. He sang of war, no doubt. Repeat his words, if thou art loth to sing. ACHILLES. Look at those yellow poppies ! were the words They are cmne out to catch xohate'er the sun Will throw into their cups ; their faces show Their joyance. Son of Peleus ! they begin Their nodding dance, and wait hvtfor the lyre. HELENA. Childish ! for one with such a spear against His shoulder ; even its shadow terrible, ^ It seems to make a chasm across the plain. ACHILLES. To talk or think as children think and talk Is not at all times such a proof of folly ; There may be hours when it shall push aside Griefs, where the strength of graver wisdom fails. ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 167 HELENA. But Keiron, when he sang to thee of flowers Show'd little. ACHILLES. To his lyre he sang the loves Of Hyacinthos and Narcissos, brought Back by the Hours on their unwearied feet, Eegular in their courses as the stars. Many of the trees and bright-eyed flowers once lived And moved, and even spoke, as we are speaking. Memories they yet may have, tho they have cares No longer. HELENA. They then have no memories, They see their beauty only. ACHILLES. Helena ! Thou turn est pale and droopest. HELENA. Gum or blossom Or this high place, or something else unseen, Hath made me dizzj' : can it be the wind 1 ACHILLES. Air there is none. HELENA. I wish there were a little. 168 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. ACHILLES. Be seated now. HELENA. The feeble are obedient. ACHILLES. 'Twas on this very ground where we repose They who conducted me by certain signs Told me the prize of beauty was awarded. One of them smiled ; the other, whom in duty I love the most, lookt anxious and let fall Some tears. HELENA. Yet she was not one of the vanquisht. ACHILLES. Goddesses then contended. Helena Was absent, and too young. HELENA. Alas ! how fatal Was the decision of the arbiter. Could not thy sire the venerable Peleus, And could not Pyrrhos, child so beautiful And helpless, have detain'd thee from this wai- 1 ACHILLES. No reverence and no friendship for the race Of Atreus brought me against Troy ; I hate. Detest and execrate alike both brothers ; ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 169 Another is more odious to me stil, I will forbear to name him. The brave man Holding the hearth as sacred as the temple. Violates never hospitality. He carries not away the gold he finds Within the house, folds not up purple linen Workt for solemnities, conveying it Stealthily from the cedar chest to stow In the dark ship, together with a wife Confided to him by her absent lord. I wUl not say to love thee was a crime ; Priam or Nestor might, even at their years. But to avow and act on the avowal Is what the Gods, if righteous, wUl chastise. HELENA. But Aphrodite urged me, day and night, Telling me that to make her break her vow To Paris was inexpiable sin. So she told Paris at the selfsame hours. And quite as often, he repeated it Every morning, showing how his dreams Tallied with mine exactly. So, at last . . ACHILLES. The last is not yet come. By aU the Gods If I should ever meet him, face to face I with this spear transfix him. HELENA. Pray, do not. For Aphrodite never would forgive thee. 170 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. ACHILLES. I am not sure of that ; she soon forgets. Variable as Iris, she one day Favors, the next forsakes. HELENA. She may forsake Me then ! ACHILLES. But other Deities Watch over and protect thee. Thy brave brothers Are with them at this very hour, and they Are never absent from their festivals. HELENA. Oh ! were they living ! that thou couldst have seen them! ACHILLES. Companions of my father on the Phasis They were his guests before they went, aU three, To hunt the boar of Calydon ; that day Brought many sorrows upon brave men's hearts, A woman was the cause. HELENA. Horrible creature ! The boar, I mean . . Didst thou not see the Twins ? ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 171 ACHILLES. I saw them not ; degixous as I was That I might learn from them and practice with them Whatever is most laudable and manly. My father, fearing my impetuosity (Old men wiU call it so) and inexperience Sent me away. Soothsayers had foretold Some mischief to me from an arrow-wound : Among the brakes an arrow may fly wide. Glancing from trees. HELENA. Hadst thou but seen the Twins ! Tho 'twere but once. The Sun will never shine With his bright eyes upon such youths again. Ah my brave brothers ! how they tended me ! How loved me ! often wishing me to mount Each his horse first : they made me poise and hurl Their javelins : they would teach me archery . . But they could only teach me to swim with them : It gratified me rather to be prais'd For anything than swimming. Happy hours ! Soon over ! does then happiness depart Sooner than beauty 1 Surely it might stay That little while. Dear Kastor ! Polydeukes Stil dearer ! often shall I think of you As you were, and as I was, on the bank Of the Eurotas. 1 72 ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. ACHILLES. Is there not at home One once as dear ? HELENA. Ah poor Hermione ! A babe was she who could not play with me, Yet 'twas my pride and pleasure to survey Her roseate fingers on my unrobed breast : And I could almost envy then the goat That stampt and feebly cried to give her milk. My brothers teazed her for it, wicked pair ! Terrible, and almost as beautiful As thou art. Be not wroth ; blush not for me. ACHILLES. Helena ! Helena of Menelaos ! My mother is reported to have left About me only one part vulnerable ; I have at last found where it is. Farewell ! HELENA. leave me not ! I do beseech, I implore. Leave me not thus alone ! these solitudes Are terrible : wUd beasts must roam among them ; There certainly are Fauns and Satyrs, there Cybele,.who bears towers upon her head. Abhorring Aphrodite, persecuting All those she favors ; and her priests so cruel That they are cruel even to themselves. ACHILLES AND HELENA ON IDA. 1 73 She sees grim lions yoked before her car And hears their dismal roar, and sits serene. ACHILLES. They who have brought thee hither in a cloud WUl reconduct thee in a cloud, unseen And safely, to the city : be thou sure. Daughter of Leda and of Zeus, farewell ! Not even this arm could save thee if our host Saw thee descending, trust the Gods who can. The Gods who sent me hither to announce That Helena shall close her eyes in Greece. 1 74 COBYTHOS. CORYTHOS. CEnone had been weeping, but the blast Bitterly cold had dried her tears, for high Upon the mountain stood she, where the grass Was short and dry, and where the fir-tree cones EoU'd as the whirlwind rusht along the down. Thence she beheld the walls and temples doom'd So soon to fall, and view'd her husband's roof, (Hers he was once, altho another's now) And caU'd their Corythos from out the wood. " Go," said she, " go, my child ! there is at Troy One who, without thy mother, may love thee. Thy father lives . . alas ! lives imaware How few before him lie his destined days : For now from Lemnos PhUoctetes comes And brings with him the deadly shafts bequeath'd By Hercules, wherewith, the Fates have sung, Paris must perish and the city fall. Hated thou wUt not be by her he loves, Altho no child she ever bore to him And thou art mine, if thou canst but delay The hour foredoom'd : he may remember days Of other times, and how serene they were. Days when the poplar on its bark retain'd Two names inscribed by him, and when invoked Was Xanthos to bear witness to his vow. When his lost son hath saved him, and he knows He may not be ungrateful, but become The kinder father for unkindness past." She mingled kisses with o'erflowing tears. Embraced him, then consigned him . . not at once . COEYTHOS. 1 75 To Agelaos : he was oft recall'd, And urged with admonitions fresh and fresh To keep as distant as was possible From wave saU-whitened and insidious shore, And every spot where Argive rampires rose. Downward, thro crags and briars they wend their way. Fixt to the place, she heard not long the shout Of Corythos, nor outcry of shriU birds He pelted, whooping ; then she tum'd around Toward her mountain home, and thus exclaim'd . . " Mountains and woods, .the birthplace of my child, I see ye yet ! he, dearer to my eyes, Is lost to them ! Paris, once gone, return'd No more to me ! alas ! nor love remains Nor pledge of love ! not only have I lost Him who might bring again to me past hours By countenance, by mien, by sound of laugh. By words persuasive, when presaging fear Darkened my brow, that cause was none for grief, I have lost here . . how little if success FoUow the loss ! . . all solace, aU support ! AH things beside are just the same around. Xanthos and Simois tremble at the touch Of early morning ; then approaches me Tenedos, one unbroken mass distinct. And sidelong surges overleap the cliffs. I am changed nothing ; nothing can I change : Such is the life of Nymphs ; it must not cease, Nor must the comeliness of youth decay. Wretched ! what look I back on 1 that frail gift 176 CORYTHOS. And fugitive, which others grasp, I mourn. (Enone ! CEnone ! beauteous once He thought thee ; he whom thou wUt ever hold Beauteous and dear, now sees thee like the snow That lost its colour in a southern gale. How easy is it to snap off the bud Of tender life, and sow upon a breast Laid open ineradicable cares ! How soon droops youth when faith, that propt it, fails ! How often in her anguish would the maid Eecall irrevocable hours, and grieve Most for the man whose future grief she sees ! Asteropfe, my sister ! happy thou In him who loves but one ! canst thou believe That ^sacos and Paris are cognate ? But him the mUd Arisbe bore ; and him. Born of a furious River, Hecuba. 1 envy not alone the happier wed. But even the wretched who avoid the light. The unmarried too whose parents turn'd aside Their nuptial torch, and widows o'er whose beds Black wreaths are drooping ; for the pang that death Inflicts, time may, tho time alone, assuage. Where Nile besprinkles from his lotus-cup The nuptial floor ; where sacred Ganges rolls Alike inscrutable his vaster stream, If Memnon's mother sheds ambrosial tears Before the sun arises ; if, ye maids Of ocean, in the refuge of your caves Ye daily hear your Thetis wail her loss. Shunning wise Glaucos, deaf to Triton's shell. COUYTHOS. 17T To Doris, and the Nymphs that wait around ; If maids and matrons waU'd o'er Hector's corse, Mangled, and stretcht upon a tardy bier, Hector was stil Andromache's, as when He drave before him the Achaian host, As when he tost his infant to his crest And laueht that. Hector's child could ever fear. What faiut ^was «¥#r mine, unless to love And be deserted, and to pass my nights Among the haunts of beasts, where wolves and bears Break my first slumber, and my last, with howls. And the winds roar incessant from above % Perhaps the G-ods hereafter may look down With gentler eyes, nor deem my fault so great. Howe'er it be, may Corythos be blest With other days, with better than pursuit Of stag, or net thrown over birds when driven By cold and hunger to scant oats unhous'd . . may they grant him happier, and forbid That children suffer when their sires transgress." Meanwhile the youth was stopping near the walls, And stood there wondering that e'en those, so vast, So lofty, had resisted such a host Under so many tents on all sides roimd. " But where is that old figtree 1 where the scene Of Hector and Achilles face to face \ Where that of Venus when she drew the cloud Around my father to preserve his life 1" Such were his questions, siezing the guide's hand, Hurrying him onward, and entreating him Forthwith to lead him into Troy itself. Even into Priam's house. Thus Agelaos M 178 CORYTHOS. Represses him. " Thy mother's sole command Was Onward ! strait to Helena's abode." An aged man, who heard the two converse, Stopt them. " Dardan " cried the impatient boy, " Say where dwells Helena 1" "With sterner voice " Go," said the Dardan, " the destroyer's court To all is open . . there it lies : pass on." The youth threw instantly both arms around The old man's neck, and, " Blessed " he exclaim'd, " Blessed, to whom my mother's injuries Are hateful ! It is virtue so to hate The wicked Spartan. Here none other house Than Priam's will 1 enter, where with his Abides my father, where Andromache Prostrate on earth bemoans her husband slain. While that bold wanton, fearing neither Pan Nor Zeus, with busy needle works, I ween, For other temples golden tapestries. Or twitches the shrill harp with nail of Sphynx." Many, as they were speaking, past them by. One woman, pausing, askt them if the ships Could be discern'd from Ida whence they came. And whether favorable were the winds For their departure : to the eld she spake. But gazed upon the youth : he saw her cheeks Redden and pale : his guide too, not unmoved. Thought, if in lUon be such beauty, who Would turn a glance elsewhere, tho aU the Gods And all the Goddesses might promise more ? CORYTHOS. 1 79 Now saw the youth, nor had he seen til now, The maidens following her ; their vests succinct, Their hair close-braided ; faultless all in form. All modest in demeanour. Not so fast The motion of his heart when rusht the boar Into his tods, and knotty cornel spear Whiz'd as it struck the bristles, and the tusks Eattled with knashing rage thro boiling blood. Whither were going they, she gently askt. " To where Assaracos and llos dwelt," Keplied the elder, " where dwells Paris now." Then she, " The way is safer shown by us. And sooner will ye find him when he leaves The citadel. At early dawn he heard A clamour from the coast ; and soon a skiiF Was seen : an old man landed ; one alone Came with him ; 'twas Odysseus ; more behind. Soon roam'd the sailors, culling on the coast Bay and verbena ; soon was every prow Glimmering with these unhoped-for signs of peace." Shaking his head, the Idsean answered thus. " 'Twas surely Philoctetes who arrived. The arms he bears were those of Heroes, And now the bow of Nessos, and the shafts Infected by the Hydra, come against The falling city of Laomedon." Struck by the words she heard, the more she wisht To hear, the quicker went she on, and bade Her damsels hasten too : she did look back. Yet hasten'd. The Idsean strangers moved Tardily now thro crowds who stood before The house of Hector : there they stood ; there came 180 CORYTHOS. Widows and maids and matrons, carrying Honey (the outraged Manes to appease) And children on their shoulders, who lookt up. Stretching their eyes, stretching their bodies out To see their equal-aged Astyanax. The older and the younger wept alike At the morn silence : all things were laid waste Around the roof-tree of their hero's house. The palace now they reach where Paris dwelt ; They wonder at the wide and lofty dome. The polisht columns and the brazen forms Of heroes and of Gods, and marble steps. And valves resounding at the gates unbarr'd. They enter them. What ivory ! and what gold ! What breathing images depicted there ! Daedalos had enricht the Cretan king With divers ; and his daughter when she fled With Theseus, who had slain the Minotaur, Brought part away within his hollow ship; And these were Helena's : a scient hand Drew her, the fairest, foremost into light Among the girls she danced with, while the Gods Of heaven and ocean gazed on her alone. Above them sate the Sire of all, and nigh She who on Cypros landed from her shell; Curl'd conchs less bright the round-eyed Tritons blew. Helena sent for Paris : what had said The shepherd she related, but one fact Eepressing . . who the mother of the boy, And whom the boy resembled. Such was once Paris, the guest of Sparta ; but ten years Had cuU'd and carried off the flower of youth. CORYTHOS. 181 She thought not in these moments of his flight Inglorious from the spear of Diomed, Of nearer peril thought she ; he, reclined Upon his purple couch, her fear controU'd. " No Philoctetes is arrived, afar Sits he, alone upon the Lesbian rock, Heavy with mortal wound ; a wing drives off The beasts from worrying their expected prey, Often he waves it o'er his weary head Lest vulture settle on it, often sees The brazen breast of eagle close above, Too weak his voice to scare it off, too weak His groans, tho louder. Thinkest he who bore AU this from faithless friend, who sits athirst, Ahungered,on the beach, who bends his ear Down to the earth and hears the pulse of oars Fainter and fainter, and the seaman's song Lively as ever, and while he bemoans His wasting and immedicable wound . . What can Lernsean arrow do against us 1 Grant, if that far-famed bowman limp across The heavy sands crisp with Achaian gore, Year after year, in flakes not washt away. Where lies oxir danger 1 He but comes to find Broken the chariot that had drag'd along Hector, the blackened pyre where Ajax Ues, The corslet of Patroclos. Lo, Troy ! Those mighty hands that threaten now thy fall ! Now is the time for us to turn our backs. To leave our heritage, to leave the fane Of Pallas, fane inviolate tiU now. The roofs that Neptune helpt her to erect. 182 CORYTHOS. And over which Apollo, shining forth And shouting and exhorting, bent his bow. An old man bears an older on his back, Odysseus Philoctetes. Aye, 'tis time. My Helena, our footsteps to retrace Toward Mycaenai : let us bear away Our household Gods, by former wars xmmoved . . Carry thou the PaUadion in thy breast That trembles so with pious fear, and bring Gifts to Diana on Taygetos ! The rampire of the Achaians is o'erthrown ; The Myrmidons are scattered ; every tent Lies open . . that is little . . for, behold ! A lame man wins the race and grasps the prize ! While dark invidious Here exercised Her hatred on her judge, and arm'd the son Of Tydeus, and while Ajax rear'd his shield Covered with seven buU-hides, and Nereid-born The proud jEmonian shook Action's towers. Thy fears, even then, I might, in jest, rebuke. On me no prowess have the Gods bestow'd 1 No Venus, no Apollo, favored me / " Her failing spirits with derisive glee And fondness he refresht : her anxious thoughts Followed, and upon Corythos they dwelt. Often he met her eyes, nor shun'd they his. For, royal as she was and born of Zeus, She was compassionate, and bow'd her head To share her smiles and griefs with those below. All in her sight were level, for she stood High above all within the seagirt world. At last she questioned Corythos what brought CORYTHOS. 183 His early footsteps thro such dangerous ways. And from abode so peaceable and safe. At once he told her^why he came : jhe held Her hand to Mm : now first aaeas he^ashamed Not to have hated her : he look^ he sighs, He hangs upon her words . . what gentle words ! How chaste her countenance. " What open brows The brave and beauteous ever have !" saM^e, " But even the hardiest, when above their heads Death is impending, shudder at the sight Of barrows on the sands and bones exposed And whitening in the wind, and cypresses From Ida waiting for dissever'd friends." 184 COKYTHOS. CORYTHOS. (Second Part.) Helena long had pondered, at what hour To charm her Paris with the novel sight Of such a son, so like him. Seldom bears A beauteous mother beauteous progeny. Nor fathers often see such semblances As Corjrthos to his. To mortal man Rarely the Gods grant the same blessing twice ; They smile at incense, nor give ear to prayer. With this regretful thought her mind recurs To one so infantine, one left behind At morning, from the breast she just had warm'd. " Will no one ever teU me what thou art, Hermione ! how grows thy destined spouse Orestes." Now invade her other cares How to retain her Paris . . oft she wisht She had a boy like Corythos . . at least Hers she would make him by all tenderness. Atoning, if atonement there could be. For what his mother by her crime sustain'd . . But was it not decreed so from above 1 She argued . . and remorse was thus appeas'd. Then Agelaos caU'd she, and besought, " Perform, Agelaos, my request. Two youths have been entrusted to thy care, Paris and Corythos : one care is mine. Already hast thou seen the torch extinct That threatened Troy, and strong as be thy wish CORYTHOS. 185 Again to press thy earlier pupil's hand, Be not thou overhasty : let a son Eeceive a father's blessing quite alone." Then he. " Not different were the wise pommands His mother gave me. Should I see the man I left a chUd, he might not recognise Old Agelaos in these wrinkled cheeks, These temples sprinkled now with hoary hair, These limbs now slow, this voice and spirit weak ; Nor haply would the prince be overjoyed To know his servant had outrun his lord In virtue's path : my help the royal heir Wants not ; but Corythos may want it, him Never until death parts us wiU I leave." Eevolving in her mind a thousand schemes. She now decided that her guest should come Before his father when the harp and wine Open the breast, and the first lamps were lit To show the dauntless unsuspicious youth ; She oftentimes had thought; of it before. And now the day was come. The Trojans tum'd Again to strains of intermitted glee, Not unafraid, however, of reproof Tho mild ; the times had so debased the lyre. And for heroic deeds of better men. It tinkled now, in city and in camp, With little else than weak lasciviousness. Until its strings were stifled with applause. Helena heard not such complacently ; Adultress as she was, she had not lost The early bloom of Spartan modesty. Around the chamber shone the images 186 CORYTHOS. Of boys and maidens robed in vest succinct, And holding bumisht lamps, whence incence wreath'd Its heavy cloud whitened with cedar oU, And under, them the purple seats gleam'd forth, And over was the residence of Gods, And nectar-bearing youth, in light serene. Helena, now impatient of delay. Looks often out the portal's tissued folds Heavy with fringe of interwoven gold. And often stops when even Paris speaks, Listening, but not to Paris as before. And, once or twice, half springing from her seat. Now enters Corythos : the splendors round Amaze him, and one image strikes him dumb. His lofty sire's : he would advance, but awe Withholds him : he can only fix his gaze On Helena. When Paris first percieves A stranger, of fresh age and ardent mien, Advance, then hesitate, and then retreat Disturb'd and trembling, voiceless, motionless. Nameless, and without call or office there, And when he sees the purple robe he wears. Woven by Helena in former days, Perhaps too for the man she since had loved, A thousand furies rush into his breast. He tears it ofi^, he hurls it on the ground, He strikes with rapid sword, the face, the neck, The bosom, of his child, and with his heel Stamps on the hands in vain, to heaven uprais'd. And hears, infuriate wretch ! . but bubbling blood. And one loud female shriek . . Thy child ! thy child ! PELEUS AND THETIS. 187 PELEUS AND THETIS. THETIS. Peleus ! whom the Gods have given me For all my happiness on earth, a bliss 1 thought too great. . . PELEUS. Why sighest thou 1 why shed Those tears ? why sudden silence 1 our last tears Should then have fallen when the Fates divided us, Sajdng, earth is not thine ; that he who rules The waters call'd thee. Bitter those that flow Between the loved and loving when they part, And ought to be ; woe to the inhuman wretch Who wishes they were not : but such as fall At the returning light of blessed feet Should be refreshing and divine as morn. THETIS. Support me, support me in thy arms Once more, once only. Lower not thy cheek In sadness ; let me look into thine eyes ; Tho the heavens frown on us, they, now serene. Threaten us no fresh sorrow .. tisf ah me ! The word of Zeus is spoken : our Achilles Discovered, borne away in the Argive ships To Aulis, froward youth ! his fearless heart Had bounded faster than those ships to Troy. Ah ! surely there are some among the Gods 188 PELEUS AND THETIS. Or Goddesses who might have, knowing all, Forewarn'd thee. Were there neither auguries Nor dreams to shake off thy security, No priest to prophecy, no soothsayer 1 And yet what pastures are more plentiful Than round Larisga 1 victimes where more stately t Come, touch the altar with me. Pious man, Doth not thy finger even now impress The embers of an incense often burnt For him, for thee 1 The lowing of the herds Are audible, whose leaders lead them forth For sacrifice from where Apidanos Rises, to where Enipeus widens, lost In the sea-beach : and these may yet avail. PELEUS. Alas ! alas ! priests may foretell calamity But not avert it : aU that they can give Are threats and promises and hopes and fears. Despond not, long-lost Thetis ! hath no God Now sent thee back to me ? why not believe He will preserve our son 1 which of them all Hath he offended ? THETIS. Yet uncertainties, Worse than uncertainties, oppress my heart, And overwhelm me. PELEUS AND THETIS. 189 PELEUS. Thetis ! in the midst Of all uncertainties some comfort lies. Save those which even perplex the Gods on high And which confound men the most godlike . . love, Despond not so. Long may AchUles live Past our old-age . . ours f had I then forgot. Dazed by thy beauty, thy divinity 1 THETIS. Immortal is thy love, immutable. PELEUS. Time without grief might not have greatly changed me. THETIS. There is a loveliness which wants not youth. And which the Gods may want, and sometimes do. The soft voice of compassion is unheard Above ; no shell of ocean is attuned To that voice there ; no tear hath ever dropt Upon Olympos. Fondly now as ever Thou lookest, but more pensively ; hath grief Done this, and grief alone 1 tell me at once, Say have no freshly fond anxieties . . . PELEUS. Smile thus, smUe thus anew. Ages shall fly Over my tomb while thou art flourishing 190 PELEUS AND THETIS. In youth, eternal, the desire of Gods, The light of Ocean to its lowest deep, The inspirer and sustainer here on earth Of ever-flowing song. THETIS, I bless thy words And in my heart wUl hold them ; Gods who see Within it may desire me, but they know I have loved Peleus. When we were so happy They parted us, and, more unmerciful. Again unite us in eternal woe. PELEUS. Powerfuller than the elements their will, And swifter than the light, they may relent. For they are mutable, and thou mayst see Achilles every day and every hour. THETIS. Alas ! how few ! . . I see him in the dust, In agony, in death, I see his blood Along the flints, his yeUow hair I see Darken'd, and flapping a red stream, his hand Unable to remove it from the eyes. I hear his voice . . his voice that calls on me. I could not save him ; and he would have left The grots of Nereus, would have left the groves And meadows of Elysium, bent on war. PELEUS. Yet Mars may spare him. Troy hath once been won. PELEUS AND THETIS. 191 THETIS. Perish he must, perish at Troy, and now. PELEUS. The now of Gods is more than life's duration ; Other Gods, other worlds, are form'd within it. If he indeed must perish, and at Troy, His ashes wiU lie softly upon hers. Thus fall our beauteous boy, thus fall Achilles. Songs such as Keiron's harp could never reach Shall sound his praises, and his spear shall shine Over far lands, when even our Gods are mute. THETIS. Over his head nine years had not yet past When in the halls of Tethys these were words Eeiterated oftenest . . thou brave Golden-hair' d son of Peleus! What a heap Of shells were broken by impatient Nymphs Because of hoarseness rendering them unfit For their high symphonies ! and what reproofs Against some Tritons from their brotherhood For breaking by too loud a blast the slumber Of those who, thinking of him, never slept. To me appeard the first light of his eyes. The dayspring of the world ; such eyes were thine At our first meeting on the warm sea-shore. Why should youth linger with me ? why not come Age, and then death 1 The beast of Kalydon Made his impetuous rush against this arm No longer fit for war nor for defence 192 PELEUS AND THETIS. Of thy own people ; is the day come too When it no longer can sustain thy Thetis 1 Protend it not toward the skies, invoke not. Name not, a Deity ; I dread them aU. No ; lift me not above thy head, in vain Reproving them with such an awful look, A look of beauty which they will not pity. And of reproaches which they may not brook. PELEUS, Doth not my hand now, Thetis, clasp that foot Which seen the Powers of ocean cease to rage. Indignant when the brood of JSolas Disturbs their rest 1 If that refreshing breath Which now comes over my unquiet head Be not the breath of immortality. If Zeus hath any thunderbolt for it. Let this, beloved Thetis, be the hour ! THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. 193 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. " Thy blood, pious maiden ! shall remain In thy own city ; and thou shalt survive Its foe who now espouses thee." The song Of the three Sisters in three voices sang These words, so comforting a mother's heart To her Polyxena ; and from the shrine Of Thymbra, from Apollo's mouth the same When she had led her thither. " Future days Of peace and happiness," said she " expand Before thee, and thou seest them not, child ! Pious, yet even by that God's voice unmoved. Behold ! how "bright the sky ! how sweet the air Breathes round about us! sweet when we came forth. But how much balmier now ! the flowers arise Under the spring's first dust, as if no foot Of foe had trampled them, and sip the dew Joyous as if they felt thy wedding-day. Continuous heaps extend along the plain, Heaps where one briar binds more than one below, Foes lately, now united evermore." " I see the flowers, I see the sepultures " Polyxena said sighing, " and I feel The breeze, no balmier than it breath'd before : That tepid moisture which the plants inhale Was theirs; and ah! those flowers were Trojan blood. Not other now shines forth thy light, sun, Than when the Achaian anchors graspt our strand 194 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. Amid the clamor of the host, amid Cars rattling oa the stony beach, and shields Struck in defiance. Ah ! nor otherwise When every Grod left Hector " Here she wept, Here wept the mother too. " But why thus break Silence, if only to make way for grief 1 I had ceast almost so deeply to bemoan My children when Achilles was defence, Not terror, to us all. Canst thou refuse To see the Gods now with him, friends to Troy ? King above kings, rich with ancestral stores, And now about to bring aU Asia bound Into Mycenai, and, despite of Mars, Polyxena, thee now doth he prefer To aU these glories : ere they yet were won, Iphigeneia never had declined His proflfer'd hand while yet his shield was white. Nor had the Nereid, she from whom he sprang. Brought the Vvdcanian armure he now bears. Him bom of Gods and worthy to beget Their semblances, rejectest thou ? She shed Her blood upon the altar that thy hand Might rescue Troy. Thou fearest the wild waU Of our Cassandra ; if there must be fear, Is not Achilles what thou mightest dread V Briefly the yielding daughter thus replied, " Whether the Gods command me, as they do, To wed, or whether to be bound a slave, I follow the behest : where no disgrace No hardship is . . but let me weep awhUe. THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. 195 I will, mother ! yes, I will obey A parent . . for this also they command, Hoping they may recall or may remitt This one decree. Must I be given up To him behind whose wheels my brother's corse Was drag'd along, drag'd while bis breast yet heaved And plowed and fill'd the furrow with his blood. Oh ! on this very ground our feet now press Plighted are nuptial vows ! are Gods invoked ! Thanksgivings offered them ! Oh ! pardon grief That nothing can abate : what can the Gods Do now to lighten it 1 Ye moundering heaps Which friendly hands heapt up and covered o'er With turf, not solid yet ; where cypresses, Green lately, drop their hard and withered leaves ; And ye that cover corses numberless In happier union, ye but separate The resting soul from soul that knows not rest. I gave my promise ; thus Apollo will'd ; Let then his oracles, by me observ'd. Bring (to me never !) to my country peace." Hecuba gaspt for breath, tears gushing down, " my last child ! my only hope in life ! Cried she, " unmerited unhoped-for weal Eestorest thou : not what thy terror feigns Wilt thou soon find him : his stern heart relents At Priam's sad reverses ; he beholds A house the Gods have visited and deign'd To share its hospitality ; he looks With pity and with fondness on thy youth And beauty; else he never would hold out 196 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. His hand in amity, nor blandly take What he could tear away : beside, he fears That thou, beyond the reach of his revenge (Unlike Briseis whom his sword reclaim'd) Shouldst be by equal lot another's prey. For long ago he saw our certain fate, Deriding the Palladion, nor afraid Of any Gods, when Gods saw Hector fall." Another, not a happier, morn arose. Under the walls of Dardanos a plain Lies open : it was covered now with crowds Even to the root of Ida, past the banks Of those two stony rivers, since alike Rendered immortal by immortal song. Unwearied, tho grown hoaty under arms, Aiid from the omen fondly hoptag peace. Commingled with the Trojans, in the fane Of their Apollo, the Achaians held Stern silence, or in whispers a discourse That varied. Some regretted the delay Of the doom'd city; some dared blame the king, And some Peleides ; others muttered words On treachery, then on bribes, and knew the tent That covered them stow'd carefully from sight. Hither came Priam ; slower came behind His aged consort, and her sons, now few ; Prodigal had the rest been of their blood. The wives of the survivors hither came. All deeply veil'd and all with brow abased. Hither they once had come led joyfully Mid hymenaeal song, by hands now cold : Alone at home remain'd, and tried to wear THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. 197 Away with restless spindle the sad hour, Andromache, oft chided by her child. In every street of the wide city, throngs Eusht forth impatiently to see the shields So long opposed to them, and helmets caught Before by glimpses only thro the dust. Close to the altar of the placid God Polyxena held tightly by the arm . . AchiUes, and scarce knew it ; beautiful Above her sister, beautiful almost As Helena herself ; so white that brow. So pure the luster of those gentle eyes. Cassandra suddenly with horrid scream Eushes beyond the congregated host . . All tremble, aU are stricken mute, as when Enters some Deity. She speaks, alone. And not her words speaks she, but words compell'd. " Sister, believest thou the Destinies Are friendly to thee 1 Sister ! turn thine eyes Back from this temple, turn them on the walls Poseidon aided by Apollo rais'd. In vain hath Pallas dwelt within . . I see Prodigies, I see arms and flames o'er-ride The ancient towers ; Xanthos and Simoeis I see run swifter now with streams of blood. And heroes rising heavily from wounds, And ruin following when the battles cease. flower ! upon what altar art thou laid, Cull'd by Thessalian hand ! why, ere the torch Be lighted, flames so the Sigeean shore And Tenedos the level ray prolongs 1 Fly ! let us fly ! Citheron calls aloud ; 198 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. Sound the Chaonian towers, resound the horns Of Acheloos, and, high up above. The thunder-rent Keraunian rocks reply. Hearest thou not the marble manger crack Under the monster's jaw 1 it scales our walls And human voices issue from its bulk 1 Why then delay 1 why idle words 1 Arise My parents ! . . turn, ah ! turn away the sight From those Bistonian, those betraying realms. Why, Polydoros, callest thou 1 why waves A barren cornel o'er a recent tomb While the loose pebbles tinkle down the base 1 Me neither tears nor madness are vouchsafed ; Do thou, devoted sister ! now thy chains Are taken off that thy pure blood may flow More readUy, step back one little step From where thou sittest on the fagot ; come And give me, aU I hope, one last embrace. Oh spare her thou ! And thee too I implore, Pyrrhos ! Oh, by the manes of thy sire ! Haste forward. She deserves it not, no criifie Is hers. This only my last breath implores." Uttering such words her maidens drew her home. Another noise was heard within the fane. Silent and dark an arrow from across Amid the tumult struck the heroe's heel. And, passing thro and thro, the brazen point Eang on the marble floor. The chiefs around Wonder to see the weapon and small bead Of blood : they sieze their spears, and tear away The olive and verbena from their crests And stamp them underfoot : not Priam's voice THE ESPOUSALS OP POLYXENA. 19S^ Was heard, who gathering dust with desperate grasp Strew'd with it his grey hairs ; nor was the bride Heeded, tho sinking as if into death. Achilles neither helpt her nor required Help for himself ; aware the day was come. Foretold him : he with failing voice represt The wrath of his compeers, yet strong enough Thus to command. " Lay ye your arms aside ; Let none avenge Achilles but his son. Alkimos and Automedon ! detaiu Within our tent the Myrmidons : my voice They might no longer mind who see me now, Fallen ignobly . . Ajax ! Diomed ! Leave here a corse not worth a beast alive. Or hide it where no Trojan may rejoice. Ah ! must his herds then graze upon my grave ! Let not thy tears drop over me, whoe'er Thou art upon my left ! my eyes of iron See none, see nothing . . take those friendly arms From oflf my shoulder . . they now weary me And weary you with their too vain support. Not that Larissa in a quiet tomb Holds my brave ancestors grieve I, Death, Not that my mother will lament my loss, Lone in the bower of Tethys, for a while ; I grieve that Troy should ever thus exult Without more slaughter of her faithless race. Open the turf, remove the blackened boughs, And let the urn of Mensetiades Take my bones too. 200 THE ESPOUSALS OF POLYXENA. Launch from this hateful strand The bark that bore us hither. With the leave Of your Atreides . . send for . . now at play In Ptheiai, and expecting the return Of playmate , . my own Pyrrhos, my brave boy . To bring destruction with the Pelian spear. Hear ye my voice 1 or with its pants and gasps Expires it, and decieves me 1 I forget . . Such is the mist of mind that hangs on me . . What are the orders I have given, and what My wishes yet unspoken : be not ye Forgetful of me as I am of these ; Suf e, although Orcos drags my wounded limbs Beneath, the Shades shall know and fear me there. Pyrrhos ! my chUd, my far-off child, farewell ! Whose care shall train thy youth 1 What Keiron stoop To teach thee wisdom 1 what parental hands Be loud in the applauses thou shalt win For lyre, for javelin, for Thessalian car Seen above others in the foremost dust." DEATH OF PARIS AND (ENONE. 201 DEATH OF PAEIS AND (ENONE. Closed had the darkened day of Corythos. When Agelaos heard the first report. Curses he uttered on the stepmother, Fewer on Paris by her spells enthrall'd. For in the man he now but saw the child, Ingenuous, unsuspicious. He resolved To hasten back to Ida, praying death To come and intercept him on the way. "What tale to teU CEnone ! and what thanks From parent at a prosperous son's return. Anxiously hoped for after many years. Last gift of wife deserted, now deprived Of him whose voice, whose gesture, day and night Brought the beloved betrayer back again Into her closing and unclosing eyes. And sometimes with her child upon the knee Of her who knew him not, nor cared to know. Grief and indignant virtue wrung her breast When she repeated to the fond old man Such intermingled and such transcient joys ; But when she met him on his sad return Ida was hateful in her eyes, for there Love bore such bitter and such deadly fruit. When Paris knew the truth, on cheek supine And cold a thousand kisses he imprest. Weeping and wailing ; he would expiate (If expiation there might ever be) The murderous deed : he built up high a pyxe Of fragrant cedar, and in broken voice 202 DEATH OF PARIS AND (ENONE. Call'd on the name, a name lie knew so late. " Corythos ! my son ! my son \" lie cried, And smote his breast and turn'd his eyes away ; Grief wrencht him back, grief that impell'd him on. But soon retum'd he, resolute to catch The fleeting ashes and o'ertake the winds ; So from the brittle brands he swept away The whiter ashes, placed them in their urn. And went back slowly, often went alone In the stUl night beneath the stars that -shed Light on a turf not solid yet, aboye The priceless treasure there deposited. Achaians, wandering on the shore, jpbserv'd His movements thither, Laertiades, Epeos, and that hero last arrived, Pseantios, catching the cool air with gasps. There rose the foss before them : they advanced From the Sigsean side thro copse and brake Along the winding dell of darker shade. Awaiting Paris. Under a loose string Battles a quiver ; and invisibly Hath flown an arrow, and a shout succedes ; No voices answer it. One listens, groans. Calls for his foe ; but calls not any God's Or any mortal's aid ; he raves, and rests Upon his elbow. Back thro the soft sands They from their ambush hasten, for no shield. No helmet had they taken, no defence. Below his knee the arrow has transfixt The pulp, and hindered all pursuit ; in vain Strove he to tear it out ; his vigorous arm DEATH OP PARIS AND (ENONE. 203 Could only break the arrow ; blood floVd tot Where he would wrench it. AH night thro, he roU'd His heavy eyes ; he saw the lamps succede Bach other in the city far below. He saw them- in succession dim and die. In the fresh mom, when iron light awakes The gentle cattle from their brief repose, His menials issue thro the nearer fields And groves adjacent to explore their lord, And lastly (where perchance he might be found) Nearer the pointed barrow of his son. Thither ran forward that true-hearted race Which cheers the early morn, and shakes the frost From stififened herbs, which lies before the gate Alike of rich and poor, but faithful most To the forsaken and afflicted, came And howl'd and croucht and Uckt their master's face. And now unchided mixt their breath with his. When man's last day is come, how clear are all The former ones ! Now appear manifest Neglected Gods, now Sparta's Furies rise. Now flames the fatal torch of Hecuba Portended at his birth, but deem'd extinct Until that arrow sped across the tombs Of heroes, by a hand unseen, involves In flame and smoke the loftiest tower of Troy. Such were the thoughts that vanisht like a mist, And thee, CEnone, thee .alone he sees. He sees thee under where the grot was strown With the last winter leaves, a couch for each, Sees thee betrotht, deserted, desolate, 204 DEATH OF PARIS AND CENONE. Childless . . how lately not so ! what avail The promises of Gods 1 false ! false as mine ! " Seek out, ye trusty men, seek out," said he, " The Nymph (Enone : tell her that I lie Wounded to death : teU her that I implore Her pardon, not her aid." They, when they reacht High up the hiU the woodland's last recess, And saw her habitation, saw the door Closed, and advancing heard deep groans, which brought Even to the slU her favorite doe and stag Springing before them with defiant breasts, They paus'd ; they entered ; few and slow the words They brought with them, the last they heard him speak. Briefly she answered with her face aside. " I could not save my child ; one who could save Would not." Thick sobs succeded. Twas not long Ere down the narrow and steep path are heard The pebbles rattling under peasants' feet, Whose faces the dense shrubs at every side Smite as they carry on his bier the man Who thinks his journey long ; 'twas long to him Wounded so grievously, to him about To close his waning day, before his eyes Might rest on hers and mix with hers his tears. How shall he meet her 1 Where the rocks were clear Of ivy, more than once the trace is seen DEATH OF PARIS AND (ENONE. 205 Of name or verse, the hunter's idle score Indifferent to pursue the chase ; and where There was a leveler and wider track He might remember, if indeed he cared For such remembrances, the scene of games At quoit or cestus closed by dance and feast. He drew both hands before his face, and wept, And those who carried him, and found him faint And weary, placed their burden on the ground, And with averted faces they wept too. CEnone came not out ; her feet were fixt Upon the threshold at the opened door, Her head turn'd inward that her tears might faU Unseen by stranger ; but not long unseen By Paris : he was in his youth's domains. He view'd his earliest home, his earliest loves. And heard again his earliest sighs, and hers. " After how many and what years ! " he cried, " Eeturn I, (Enone ! thus to thee ! " She answered not ; no anger, no reproach ; For, hours before, she prayed the Eumenides That they would, as befits the just, avenge The murder of her Corythos ; she prayed That she might never have the power to belp The cruel father in the hour of need. A voice now tells her from her inmost heart. Voice never, to the listener, indistinct. It is not granted to so wild a prayer. Weary of light and life, again she prayed. " Grant me, Zeus! what thou alone canst grant. Is death too great a boon 1 too much for me, A wretched Nymph, to ask 1 bestow it now." 206 DEATH OF PARIS AND (ENONE. When she had spoken, on the left was heard Thunder, and there shone flame from sky serene ; Now on her child and father of her child Equally sad and tender were her thoughts ; She saw them both in one, and wept the more. Heedless and heartless wretch she caU'd herself. But her whole life, now most, those words belied. Paris had heard the words, "Those words were mine Could I have uttered them : wounds make men weak. Shame makes them weaker : neither knowest thou, Pure soul ! one fit for immortaUty ! Let us, (Enone, shouldst thou ever die, Be here united, here is room for both . . Both did I say ? and not for one beside t Oh ! will his ashes ever rest near mine 1 " To these few words he added these few more. " Eestrain, (Enone, those heartrending sobs ! " His he could not restrain, nor deeper groans. Yet struggled to console her. " Are not these Our true espousals 1 Many may have loved _,- But few have died together!" Then she shriekt " Let me die first, husband ! Hear my prayer Tho the Gods have not heard it ! one embrace ! Paris is mine at last ; eternally Paris is mine. Oh do not thou, my child, Shun or disdain amid the Shades below Those who now die, and would have died for thee ! The gift of Venus I have often mourn'd, With this one consolation, that my grief DEATH OF PARIS AND (EN0]S:E. 207 Could not increase : sucli consolation lasts No longer : punishment far less severe Could Her6 or could Pallas have decreed Than Venus on this Ida, where she won A pri^e so fatal, and to more than me." The maidens of the mountain came and rais'd Her drooping head, and drew from tepid springs The water of her grot, and, from above. Cedar and pine of tender spray, and call'd Her father Cebren : he came forth, and fill'd After due sacrifice the larger space That was remaining of the recent urn. Paris had given his faithful friends command. Whether the Fates might call him soon or late. That, if were found some ashes on his breast. Those to the bones they covered be restored. 208 MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TEOY. MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TEOY. An old attendant deprecates and intercepts his vengeance. MENELAUS. Out of my way ! OiF! or my sword may smite thee. Heedless of venerable age. And thou. Fugitive ! stop. Stand, traitress, on that stair . . Thou mountest not another, by the Gods ! Now take the death thou meritest, the death Zeas who presides o'er hospitality, And every other god whom thou hast left. And every other who abandons thee In this accursed city, sends at last. Turn, vUest of vile slaves ! turn, paramour Of what all other women hate, of cowards, Turn, lest this hand wrench back thy head, and toss It and its odours to the dust and flames. HELEN. Welcome the death thou promisest ! Not fear But shame, obedience, duty, make me turn. MENELA0S. Duty ! false harlot ! HELEN. Name too true ! severe Precursor to the blow that is to fall, It should alone sufiice for killing me. MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TEOY. 209 MENELAUS, Ay, weep : be not the only one in Troy Who wails not on this day . . its last . . the day Thou and thy crimes darken with dead on dead. HELEN. Spare ! spare ! let the last that faUs be me ! There are but young and old. MENELAUS. There are but guUty Where thou art, and the sword strikes none amiss. Hearest thou not the creeping blood buzz near Like flies ? or wouldst thou rather hear it hiss Louder, against the flaming roofs thrown down Wherewith the streets are pathless 1 Ay, but ven- geance Springs over aU; and Nemesis and At^ Drove back the flying ashes with both hands. I never saw thee weep till now : and now There is no pity in thy tears. The tiger Leaves not her young athirst for the first mOk, As thou didst. Thine could scarce have claspt thy knee If she had felt thee leave her. HELEN. my child ! My only one ! thou livest : 'tis enough ; Hate me, abhor me, curse me . . these are duties . . Call me but Mother in the shades of death ! She now is twelve years old, when the bud swells 210 MENELAXIS AND HELEN AT TROY. And the first colours of uncertain life Begin to tinge it. MENELAU3 {aside). Can she think of home 1 Hers once, mine yet, and sweet Hermione's ! Is there one spark that cheer'd my hearth, one left, For thee, my last of love ! Scorn, righteous scorn Blows it from me . . but thou mayst . . never, never. Thou shalt not see her even there. The slave On earth shall scorn thee, and the damn'd below. HELEN. Delay not either fate. If death is mercy. Send me among the captives ; so that Zeus May see his offspring led in chains away, And thy hard brother, pointing with his sword At the last wretch that crouches on the shore, Cry, " She alone shall never sail for Greece !" MENELAUS. Hast thou more words'? Her voice is musical As the young maids who sing to Artemis : How glossy is that yellow braid my grasp Seiz'd and let loose ! Ah ! can then years have past Since but the children of the Gods, like them. Suffer not age. Helen ! speak honestly. And thus escape my vengeance . . was it force That bore thee off? MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TROY. 211 HELEN. It was some evil God. MENELAUS. Helping that hated man ? HELEN. How justly hated ! MENELAUS. By thee too '? HELEN. Hath he not made thee unhappy? do not strike. MENELAUS. Wretch ! HELEN. Strike, but do not speak. MENELAUS. Lest thou remember me against thy will. HELEN. Lest I look up and see you wroth and sad, Against my will ; ! how against my will They know above, they who perhaps can pity. MENELAUS. They shall not save thee. 212 MENELATJS AND HELEN AT TKOY. HELEN. Then indeed they pity. MENELAUS. Prepare for death. HELEN. Not from that hand : 'twould pain you. MENELATJS. Touch not my hand. Easily dost thou drop it ! HELEN. Easy are all things, do but thou command. MENELAUS. Look up then. HELEN. To the hardest proof of aU I am now bidden : bid me not look up. MENELAUS. She looks as when I led her on behind The torch and fife, and when the blush o'ersprad Her girlish face at tripping in the myrtle On the first step before the wreathed gate. Approach me. FaU not on thy knees. HELEN. The hand MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TROY. 213 That is to slay me, best may slay me thus. I dare no longer see the light of heaven. Nor thine . . alas ! the light of heaven to me. MENELAUS. Follow me. She holds out both arms . . and now Drops them again , . She comes . . Why stoppest thoul HELEN. Menelaus ! could thy heart know mine, As once it did . . for then did they converse. Generous the one, the other not unworthy v . Thou wouldst find sorrow deeper even than guUt. MENELAUS. And must I lead her by the hand again 1 Nought shall persuade me. Never. She draws back . . The true alone and loving sob like her. Come, Helen ! [He takes her hand. HELEN. Oh ! let never Greek see this ! Hide me from Argos, from Amyclai hide me, Hide me from aU. MENELAUS. Thy anguish is too strong For me to strive with. 214 MENELAUS AND HELEN AT TROY. HELEN. Leave it all to me. MENELAUS. Peace ! peace ! The wind, I hope, is fair for Sparta. ORESTES AND ELECTRA. 215 OEESTES AND ELECTEA. ELECTEA. Pass on, my brother ! she awaits the wretch, Dishonorer, despoiler, murderer . . . None other name shall name him . . . she awaits As would a lover . . Heavenly Gods ! what poison O'erflows my lips ! Adultress ! husband-slayer ! Strike her, the tigress ! Think upon our father . . Give the sword scope . . think what a man was he, How fond of her ! how kind to all about, That he might gladden and teach us . . how proud Of thee, Orestes ! tossing thee above His joyous head and calling thee his crown. Ah ! boys remember not what melts our hearts And marks them evermore ! Bite not thy lip, Nor tramp as an unsteady colt the ground. Nor stare against the wall, but think agatu How better than all fathers was our father. Go . . ORESTES. Loose me then! for this white hand, Electra, Hath fastened upon mine with fiercer grasp Than mine can grasp the sword. ELECTRA. Go, sweet Orestes ! 216 ORESTES AND ELECTRA. I knew not I was holding thee . . Avenge him ! (Alone.) How he sprang from me ! . . Sure, he now has reacht The room before the bath . . The bath-door creaks ! . . It hath creakt thus since he . . since thou, father ! Ever since thou didst loosen its strong valves, Either with all thy dying weight, or strength Agonised with her stabs . . What plunge was that 1 Ah me! . . What groans are those 1 ORESTES (returning). They soimd through heU Eejoicing the Eumenides.* She slew Our father; she made thee the scorn of slaves; Me (son of him who ruled this land and more) She made an outcast . . . Would I had been so For ever,! ere such vengeance . . . ELECTRA. that Zeus * An ancient scholiast has recorded that the name of Eumenides was given to these Goddesses after the expiation of Orestes. But Catullus (called the learned by his countrymen) represents Ariadne invoking them by this appellation long before the Trojan war. The verses are the most majestic in the Boman language. Eumenides ! quarum anguineis redimita capillis Frons expirantes praeportat pectoris iras, Hue, hue adventate ! &c. ORESTES AND ELECTRA. 217 Had let thy arm fall sooner at thy side Without those drops ! list ! they are audible . . For they are many . . from the sword's point falling, And down from the mid blade ! Too rash Orestes ! Couldst thou not then have spared our wretched mother ? The Gods could not. And didst not thou ORESTES. ELECTRA. She was not theirs, Orestes. ORESTES. ELECTRA. 'Twas I, 'twas I, who did it; Of our unhappiest house the most unhappy ! Under this roof, by every God accurst, There is no grief, there is no guilt, but mine. ORESTES. Electra! no! 'Tis now my time to suflfer . . Mine be, with all its pangs, the righteous deed. 218 ORESTES AND ELECTKA. THE MADNESS OF ORESTES. ORESTES. Heavy and murderous dreams, my Electra, Have dragged me from myself. Is this Mycenai ? Are we . . . are all who should be ... in our house 1 Living 1 unhurt 1 our father here ? our mother ? Why that deep gasp ? for 'twas not sigh nor groan. She then . . . 'twas she who fell! when? how 'i beware! No, no, speak out at once, that my full heart May meet it, and may share with thee in all . , In all . . . but that one thing. It was a dream. We may share all. They live 1 both live ? say it ! ELECTRA. The Gods have placed them from us, and there rolls Between us that dark river . . . ORESTES. Blood! blood! blood! 1 see it roU ; I see the hand above it. Imploring ; I see her. Hiss me not back, Ye snake-hair'd maids ! I wiU look on; I will Hear the words gurgle thro' that cursed stream. And catch that hand . . that hand . . which slew my father ! OKESTES AND ELECTEA. 219 It can not be ... . how could it slay my father ? Death to the slave who spoke it ! . . slay my father ! It tost me up to him to earn a smile. And was a smile then such a precious boon. And royal state and proud affection nothing 1 Ay, and thee too, Electra, she once taught To take the sceptre from him at the door . . Not the bath-door, not the bath-door, mind that ! . . And place it in the vestibule, against The spear of Pallas, where it used to stand- Where is it now 1 methinks I missed it there. How we have trembled to be seen to move it ! Both looking up, lest that stern face should frown Which always gazed on Zeus right opposite. ! could but one tear more fall from my eyes, It would shake off those horrid visages. And melt them into air. I am not yours. Fell Goddesses ! A just and generous Power, A bright-hair'd God, directed me. And thus Abased is he whom such a God inspired ! (AJier a pause.) Into whose kingdom went they ? did they go Together I ELECTKA. Oh ! they were not long apart. GEESTES. 1 know why thou art pale ; I know whose head Thy flower-like hands have garlanded ; I know 220 ORESTES AND ELECTKA. For whom thou hast unbraided all thy love. He well deserves it .... he shall have it all. Glory and love shall crown thee, my brave sister ! ELECTEA. I am not she of Sparta. Let me live (If live I must, Orestes !) not unnamed Nor named too often. Speak no more of love, lU-omen'd and opprobrious in this house . . A mother should have had, a father had it, may a brother let it dwell with him, Unchangeable, unquestioned, solitary, Strengthened and hallowed in the depths of grief ! Gaze not so angrily . . I dare not see thee, 1 dare not look where comfort should be found. OKESTES. I dare and do behold them all day long. And, were that face away so like my mother's, I would advance and question and compel them . . They hear me and they know it. ELECTKA. Hear me too, Ye mighty ones ! to me invisible ! And spare him ! spare him ! for without the Gods He wrought not what he wrought : And are not ye Partakers of their counsels and their power ? spare the son of him whom ye and they Sent against llion, to perform your will And bid the rulers of the earth be just. ORESTES AND ELECTEA. 221 ORESTES. And dare they frighten thee too 1 frighten thee 1 And bend thee into prayer 1 Off, hateful eyes ! Look upon me, not her. Ay, thus; 'tis well. Cheer, cheer thee, my Electra ! I am strong, Stronger than ever . . steel, fire, adamant . . But can not bear thy brow upon my neck. Can. not bear these wild writhings, these loud sobs. By all the Gods ! I think thou art half mad . . . I must away . . follow me not . . stand there ! THE PRAYER OF ORESTES. ORESTES. king Apollo ! god Apollo ! god Powerful to smite and powerful to preserve ! If there is blood upon me, as there seems. Purify that black stain (thou only canst) With every rill that bubbles from these caves Audibly ; and come wilHng to the work. No; 'tis not they; 'tis blood; 'tis blood again That bubbles in my ear, that shakes the shades Of thy dark groves, and lets in hateful gleams. Bringing me . . what dread sight ! what sounds abhorr d ! What screams ! They are my mother's : 'tis her eye That through the snakes of those three furies glares. 222 ORESTES AND ELECTRA. And makes them hold their peace that she may speak. Has thy voice bidden them all forth ? There slink Some that would hide away, but must turn back, And others like blue lightnings bound along From rock to rock ; and many hiss at me As they draw nearer. Earth, fire, water, all Abominate the deed the Gods commanded ! Alas ! I came to pray, not to complain ; And lo ! my speech is impious as my deed ! PRIESTESS OF APOLLO. Take refuge here amid our Delphian shades, troubled breast ! Here the most pious of Mycenai's maids Shall watch thy rest And wave the cooling laurel o'er thy brow, Nor insect swarm Shall ever break thy slumbers, nor shalt thou Start at the alarm Of boys infesting (as they do) the street With mocking songs. Stopping and importuning all they meet. And heaping wrongs Upon thy diadem'd and sacred head. Worse than when base CEgisthus (shudder not !) his toils outspread Around thy race. Altho' even in this fane the fitful blast Thou may'st hear roar, Thy name among our highest rocks shall last For evermore. ORESTES AND ELECTRA. 223 THE DEATH OF ORESTES ORESTES. A calm comes over me : life brings it not With any of its tides : my end is near. Priestess of the purifying God Receive her !* and when she hath closed mine eyes. Do thou (weep not, my father's child !) close hers. * Pointing to his sister. 224 THE SHADES OF THE SHADES OF AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA. IPHIGENETA. Father ! I now may lean upon your breast. And you with unreverted eyes will grasp Iphigeneia's hand. We are not shades Surely ! for yours throbs yet. And did my blood Win Troy for Greece 1 Ah ! 'twas in done to shrink, But the sword gleam'd so sharp, and the good priest Trembled, and Pallas frown'd above, severe. AGAMEMNON. Daughter ! IPHIGENEIA. Beloved father ! is the blade Again to pierce my bosom 1 'tis unfit For sacrifice ; no blood is in its veins ; No God requires it here; here are no wrongs To vindicate, no realms to overthrow. You are standing as at Aulis in the fane. With face averted, holding (as before) My hand ; but yours burns not, as then it burn'd ; This alone shows that we are with the Blest, Nor subject to the sufferings we have borne. I will win back past kindness. Tell me then. AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA. 225 Tell how. my mother fares who loved me so. And grieVd, as 'twere for you, to see me part. Frown not, but pardon me for tarrying Amid too idle words, nor asking how She prais'd us both (which most 1) for what we did. AGAMEMNON. Ye Gods who govern here ! do human pangs Eeach the pure soul thus far below 1 do tears Spring in these meadows ? IPHIGENEIA. No, sweet father, no . . I coidd have answered that ; why ask the Gods 1 AGAMEMNON. Iphigeneia ! my child ! the Earth Has gendered crimes unheard-of heretofore. And Nature may have changed in her last depths, ' Together with the Gods and all their laws. IPHIGENEIA. Father ! we must not let you here condemn ; Not, were the day less joyful : recollect We have no wicked here ; no king to judge. Poseidon, we have heard, with bitter rage Lashes his foaming steeds against the skies. And, laughing with loud yell at winged fire Innoxious to his fields and palaces. Affrights the eagle from the sceptred hand ; While Pluto, gentlest brother of the three And happiest in obedience, views sedate P 226 THE SHADES OF His tranquil realm, nor envies theirs above. No change have we, not even day for night Nor spring for summer. All things are serene. Serene too be your spirit ! None on earth Ever was half so kindly in his house, And so compliant, even to a child. Never was snatcht your robe away from me, Though going to the council. The blind man Knew his good king was leading him indoors Before he heard the voice that marshaU'd Greece. Therefore all prais'd you. Proudest men themselves In others praise humility, and most Admire it in the scepter and the sword. What then can make you speak thus rapidly And briefly 1 in your step thus hesitate 1 Are you afraid to meet among the good Incestuous Helen here 1 AGAMEMNON. ! Gods of HeU ! IPHIGENEIA. She hath not past the river. We may walk With our hands linkt nor feel our house's shame. AGAMEMNON. Never mayst thou, Iphigeneia, feel it I Aulis had no sharp sword, thou wouldst exclaim, Greece no avenger . . I, her chief so late. Through Erebos, through Elysium, writhe beneath it. AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA. 227 IPHIGENEIA. Come, I have better diadems than those Of Argos and Mycenai : come away, And I will weave them for you on the bank. You will not look so pale when you have walkt A little in the grove, and have told all Those sweet fond words the widow sent her chUd. AGAMEMNON. Earth ! I suffered less upon thy shores ! (Aside.) The bath that bubbled with my blood, the blows That spUt it (0 worse torture !) must she know ? Ah ! the first woman coming from Mycenai WiU pine to pour this poison in her ear, Taunting sad Charon for his slow advance. Iphigeneia ! IPHIGENEIA. Why thus turn away 1 Calling me with such fondness ! I am here. Father ! and where you are, will ever be. AGAMEMNON. Thou art my child; yes, yes, thou art my child. All was not once what all now is ! Come on, Idol of love and truth ! my child ! my chUd ! (Alone.) Fell woman ! ever false ! false was thy last Denunciation, as thy bridal vow ; And yet even that found faith with me ! The dirk Which sever'd flesh from flesh, where this hand rests, 228 THE SHADES OF Severs not, as thou boastedst in thy scoffs, Iphigeneia's love from Agamemnon : The wife's a spark may light, a straw consume. The daughter's not her heart's whole fount hath quencht, 'Tis worthy of the Gods, and lives for ever. IPHIGENEIA. What spake my father to the Gods above 1 Unworthy am I then to join in prayer 1 If, on the last, or any day before, Qf my brief course on earth, I did amiss. Say it at once, and let me be imblest; But> my faultless father ! why should you 1 And shun so my embraces 1 Am I wild And wandering in my fondness ! We are shades ! Groan not thus deeply; blight not thus the season Of full-orb'd gladness ! Shades we are indeed. But mingled, let us feel it, with the blest. I knew it, but forgot it suddenly, Altho' I felt it all at your approach. Look on me ; smile with me at my illusion . . You are so like what you have ever been (Except in sorrow !) I might well forget I could not win you as I used to do. It was the first embrace since my descent I ever aim'd at : those who love me live. Save one, who loves me most, and now would chide - me. AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA. 229 AGAMEMNON. We want not, Iphigeneia, we Want not embrace, nor kiss that cools the heart With purity, nor words that more and more Teach what we know from those we know, and sink Often most deeply where they fall most light. Time was when for the faintest breath of thine Kingdom and life were little. IPHIGENEIA. Value them As little now. AGAMEMNON. Were life and kingdom all ! IPHIGENEIA. Ah ! by our death many are sad who loved us. The little fond Electra, and Orestes So childish and so bold ! that mad boy ! They wiU be happy too. Cheer ! king of men ! Cheer ! there are voices, songs . . Cheer ! arms ad- vance. AGAMEMNON. Come to me, soul of peace ! These, these alone. These are not false embraces. IPHIGENEIA. Both are happy ! 230 THE SHADES OF AGAMEMNON. Freshness breathes round me from some breeze above. What are ye, winged ones ! with golden urns ? THE HOUKS {descending). The Hours. To each an urn we bring. Earth's purest gold Alone can hold The lymph of the Lethean spring. We, son of Atreus ! we divide The dulcet from the bitter tide That runs athwart the paths of men. No more our pinions shalt thou see. Take comfort ! We have done with thee, And must away to earth again. {Ascending.) Where thou art, thou Of braided brow. Thou cuU'd too soon from Argive bow'rs. Where thy sweet voice is heard among The shades that thrill with choral song. None can regret the parted Hours. CHORUS OF AKGIVES. Maiden ! be thou the spirit that breathes Triumph and joy into oiir song ! Wear and bestow these amaranth-wreaths, Iphigeneia ! they belong To none but thee and her who reigns (Less chaunted) on our bosky plains. AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGBNEIA. 231 SEMICHOEUS. Iphigeneia ! 'tis to thee Glory we owe and victory. Clash, men of Argos, clash your arms To martial worth and virgin charms. OTHER SEMICHOEUS. Ye men of Argos 1 it was sweet To roU the fruits of conquest at the feet Whose whispering sound made bravest hearts beat fast : This we have known at home, But hither we are come To crown the king who ruled us first and last. CHORUS. Father of Argos ! king of men ! We chaunt the hymn of praise to thee. In serried ranks we stand again. Our glory safe, our country free. Clash, clash the arms we bravely bore Against Scamander's God-defended shore. SEMICHOEUS. Blessed art thou who hast repeU'd Battle's wild fury, Ocean's whelming foam ; Blessed o'er all, to have beheld Wife, children, house avenged, and peaceful home ! OTHER SEMICHORUS. We too, thou seest, are now Among the happy, though the aged brow 232 THE SHADES OF From sorrow fox us we could not protect, Nor, on the polislit granite of the well Folding our arms, of spoils and perils tell, Nor lift the vase on the loVd head erect. SEMICHORUS. What whirling wheels are those behind 1 What plumes come flaring through the wind, Nearer and nearer 1 From his car He who defied the heaven-born Powers of war Pelides springs : Dust, dust are we To him, king, who bends the knee. Proud only to be first in reverent praise of thee. OTHER SEMICHORUS. Clash, clash the arms ! None other race Shall see such heroes face to face. We too have fought; and they have seen Nor sea-sand grey nor meadow green Where Dardans stood agq^nst their men , . Clash ! lo Paean ! clash again ! Kepinings for lost days repress . . The flames of Troy had cheer'd us less. CHORUS. Hark ! from afar more war-steeds neigh. Thousands o'er thousands rush this way. Ajax is yonder ! ay, behold The radiant arms of Lycian gold ! Arms from admiring valour won, Tydeus ! and worthy of thy son. 'Tis Ajax wears them now; for he Kules over Adria's stormy sea. AGAMEMNON AND IPHIGENEIA. S3 3 He threw them to the friend who lost (By the dim judgment of the host) Those wet with tears which Thetis gave The youth most beauteous of the brave. In vain ! the insatiate soul would go For conifort to his peers below. Clash ! ere we leave them aU the plain, Clash ! lo Psean ! once again ! 234 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. HEECULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. HERCULES. Weepest thoul Weep thou mayst ; but not for long. ALCESTIS. Certainly not for long, Heracles ! So let me weep : this day, if not this night, WiU join me to Admetos. Hath told thee so 1 HERCULES. Say, what voice ALCESTIS. The voice within my breast. HERCULES. It shall be true as was thy heart to him . . ALCESTIS. Who now lies without hope for one hour more Upon this earth. HERCULES. No power have I o'er fate. ALCESTIS. Thou canst not, I can, save him. HERCULES. Tell me how. HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMBTOS. 235 ALCBSTIS. I dare not utter my design to thee. For vows are sacred, so conditions are, And both are, or will soon be, ratified. The God who rules below will cast him down Before my steps can reach those horrid realms, If those are horrid where the faithful meet To love eternally. HERCULES. But wouldst thou not Bather return with him to the early scenes Of your betrothal, of your happier hours? ALCESTIS. Alas ! alas ! not Hades, not Elysion, Not heaven itself, could ever soothe my soul As those have done . . but when he goes I go . . could it but be first ! HERCULES. The Gods may grant This wish at thy entreaty. ALCESTIS. They have heard Already every prayer my heart could frame. HERCULES. On me they have bestoVd some power to calm Thy breast, Alcestis ! 236 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALOESTIS, ADMETOS. ALCESTIS. Save with Ms, mine never. HERCULES. Be calmer, cheer thee. Every God above Hath been propitious to me ; he below Shall hear me: not another day shall see Such faithful hearts apart. ALCESTIS. No word of thine Was ever false, but how can this be true ? HERCULES. Question me not. I have been told ere now That heavy grief brings also heavy sleep. Lighter be thine ! but confidently close Those eyes half-closed already by the weight That overhangs them. ALCESTIS. Can I ? Do I dream ? HERCULES. No, but thou shalt when Love hath had his way. PLUTO. Who comes among the Shades and is no Shade ? HERCULES. Thy elder brother's oflFspring, Heracles. HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTiS, ADMETOS. 237 PLUTO. And sent thee hither he? HERCULES. His will it was. PLUTO. And what thy errand ? HERCULES. Eescue. PLUTO. Eescne hence? There never was, nor shall be. HERCULES. Say not so, Brother of him the mighty and the jiist. PLUTO. Just caUest thou the brother who usurpt His father's throne, and thrust these realms on me? Peopled are mine, 'tis true, far more than his Or than Poseidon's, with his singing Nymphs And blowing Tritons in loud choruses On conchs, and songless speechless multitudes ; Callest thou him the just ? mighty he may be On earth, or over earth, but never here. And thou, who art but mortal, darest come Invader, to my very throne! 238 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. HERCULES. I came Speedily as I could, but was outrun By one who hurried to recall from hence Him whom ere this she haply hath embraced, Admetos; her own life she gives for his; And this condition every God approves. PLUTO. Every? and am not I onel My consent Neither those gods nor thou shall gain. Eeturn For what is she to thee, audacious man? HERCULES. Alcestis is the daughter of my friend. PLUTO. If truth has reacht me here (and oftener truth Is found below than among those on earth) Many have been the daughters thou hast there Eescued from spousal and parental bonds, HERCULES. I bear no shaft of wit so keen as thine. Nor would confront thee : only give me up The virtuous bride, then will I reascend. PLUTO. What if thy calculation be amiss. The bride I give not up : thou mayest go. With my goodwill, but must leave her behind. HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. 239 HERCULES. I wovJd not wrestle with thee. PLUTO. Art thou mad'? Wrestle with an Immortal! HERCULES. If compeU'd, And grow myself Immortal by that strife. PLUTO. Cerberos! seize him. HERCULES. 'Twas not long ago He Uckt the instep of Eurydice And only growl'd at her deliverer. Brave dogs are fellow-creatures of brave men. Not one of his three heads would bark at me. PLUTO. {Alcestis rushing forward) Woman! whence comesf? whither rushest thoul ALCESTIS. {Not minding him.) Heracles! and art thou also doom'd To bless earth never morel HERCULES. To bless once more 240 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. Earth with thy presence come I, nor will go Until I lead thee back. Surround him. PLUTO. .Styx! Phlegethon! HERCULES. I will cast thee into them, God as thou art, if any hurt befalls Alcestis. ALCESTIS. Leave me, leave me, Heracles ! Never from my Admetos will I part. PERSEPHONE {entering). Nor shalt thou. PLUTO. And thou, too, refractory? Even thou, Persephone! PERSEPHONE. Thou once didst love me, Pluto! love me now; remit, remit Thy rigid laws . . give me these two. Advance, Admetos! [whispers) He may change his mind . . go, go. ADMETOS {ascending). 1 feel afresh the air of heaven ; thy kiss Breath'd it, and do my steps touch earth again'? HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. 241 HERCULES. Yea, firm as mine do. But thou stil art faint, Alcestis! If my shoulder is too high For thee to lean on, let this arm help his. I had no time or thought to look beyond, And I saw nothing of Elysian fields ; ILthere be any thou shalt find them all Among those pastures where Apollo fed Thy herds, Admetos! where another God (Thou knowest who) Alcestis! drew thee forth And placed thee on that fond and faithful breast Whereon thou, undivided, shalt repose. ALCESTIS. Shall we be never, never, parted more^ ADMETOS. Let us, my own Alcestis, leave behind (Since one day both must die) a proof that love May be as happy, if as true, as thine. Age is before us, be it long before, And Death not wait for either! HERCULES. Haste ye home. And there hold fitter than such grave discourse. Eemember, Hymen is come back again And follows close, for Hymen hates delay. Admetos ! I was fancying that thy brood Of gallant coursers, boast of Thessaly, WiU not awaken you tomorrow-morn, Q 242 HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. With all their neighings at the palace-gate, To greet ye coming safe and sound again. Let me forbid the maidens to entwine, Whatever they may gather in the dew, Flowers tiU past noontide : they are ever apt To speed on such occasions, and to break The spell descending from the silent moon, A spell which binds together strong and weak. They shall sing merrily for honied cates, A guerdon and a symbol not unmeet : I too would sing among them, but no song Could Orpheus teach me, nor would let me touch His harp; my fingers, said he, were unfit; Nor was my voice melodious, tho less harsh Than when ye heard it in yon place below. CHORUS OF MATRONS AT MORNING. Come, little girls who catch the laughter And know not what the laughter means. But who shall know it well hereafter Amid less grand and gaudy scenes. Come, maidens, ye almost as young, Ye too whose cheeks are fuU in bloom. Lay by your wreathes, and sing a song To her whose love hath burst the tomb. Then to the praises of the bold, Then of the tender and the true, A pair whom Hades could not hold . . And may such heroes wed with you! HERCULES, PLUTO, ALCESTIS, ADMETOS. 243 GIKLS' HEPLY. We are too young to tliink of men. Few of us yet are seventeen; Better to trim the -wreathe, and then To look and see how looks the queen. APPENDIX. The following poems, it will be seen, have no connection with the Hellenics, and mostly we;e written, since, on recent occasions. APPENDIX. A heartier age will come ; the wise will know * If in my writings there he aught of worth. Said ardent Milton, whose internal light Dispel'd the darkness of despondency. Before he with imperishable gold Damaskt the hilt of our Protector's blade. Wonder not if that seer, the nighest to heaven Of aU below, could have thus well divined. I, on a seat beneath, but on his right. Neither expect nor hope my verse may lie With summer sweets, with albums gaily drest, Where poddle sniffcs at flower between the leaves. A few will cull my fruit, and like the taste, And find not overmuch to pare away. The soundest apples are not soonest ripe. In some dark room laid up when others rot. * Veniet oordatior aetas ; Siquid meremur sana posteritas soiet. Milton, Poemata. 248 APPENDIX. Southey and Hare and, ou his deathbed, Ward, And others of like stamp, have nodded praise. Unchallenged I have crost the Argive tents, Alone; and I have wrestled with the prime Of shepherds on the plains of Sicily, And her young maidens placed me by their side, And bade my rival listen while I sang. MeanwhUe not querulous nor feverish Hath been my courtship of the passing voice, Nor panted for its echo. Time has been When Cowley shone near Milton, nay, above ! An age roU'd on before a keener sight Could separate and see them far apart. Thus in our day hath Ireland's noble sage Brought down to human ken and shown how vast The space between two stars, which few hadT seen, And none seen separate. We upon earth Have not our places and our distances Assign'd, for many years ; at last a tube, Eais'd and adjusted by Intelligence, Stands elevated to a cloudless sky. And place and magnitude are ascertain'd. If I extoU'd the virtuous and the wise, The brave and beautiful, and well discern'd Their features as they fixt their eyes on mine ; If I have won a kindness never wooed ; Could I foresee that . . fallen among thieves, Despoil'd, halt, wounded . . tramping traffickers Should throw their dirt upon me, not without Some small sharp pebbles carefully inclosed 1 APPENDIX. 249 However, from one crime they are exempt ; They do not strike a brother, striking me. This breathes o'er me a cool serenity, O'er me divided from old friends, in lands Pleasant, if aught without old friends can please, Where round their lowly turf-built terraces Grey olives twinkle in this wintery sun. And crimson light invests yon quarried clifif. And central towers from distant %'illas peer Until Arezzo's ridges intervene. Festival I would keep before I leave The land where I am tarrying ; to this end Muses ! who often heard me, hear me now ! Come, and invite my neighbours on the marsh To lay aside the homely bowl for once ; Come, tell them, at my table they may taste The generous wines of Cypres and of Crete, And hear the chaunt in honor of that God Who gave the mask and buskin to the stage. Which the wise Goddess from her fane aloft Surveyed with stedfast eyes, nor disapproved. Let me look back upon the world again! Ah! let me look upon the graves of friends Departed ; let me rest my eyes at last Upon one happy mansion, hers whose pure And holy light feU down on me when first It dawned, and few had ever gazed at mine. Quitting our poplars and our cypresses, And the secluded scene they overhang, Eun glibly on, my little Aflfrico, Content to cool the feet of weary hind 250 APPENDIX. On thy smooth pavement, strown for him with moss; Kegretting not thy vanisht lake, and maids Aside its bank, each telling tale for tale ; Eevert thee rather, and with pride record Here blythe Boccaccio led his Fair Brigade^' Here Galileo with the stars converst, And MUton soar'd above them to his God. * Called La bella Brigata by him. APPENDIX. . 251 MAECUS AURELIUS AND LUCIAN. M. AURELIUS. LuciAN ! in one thing thou art ill-advised. LUCIAN. And in one only 1 tell me which is that. M. AUEELIUS. In scoflSng, as thou hast done openly, At all religions : there is truth in all. LUCIAN. Ah ! could we see it ! but the weU is deep. Each mortal calls his God inscrutable ; And this at least is true : why not stop there 1 Some subdivide him ; others hold him close. Forcing the subdivisions to unite. The worshiper of Mithras lifts his eyes To hail his early rising, for he knows Who gives the fruits of earth to nourish him ; Olympus and the Alps are hills alike To him, and goats their best inhabitants. Did Epictetus take our rotten staves To walk with uprightly ? did Cicero Kneel down before our urban deities 1 He carried in his mouth a Jupiter Eeady for Senates when he would harangue, Then wiped him clean and laid him down again. 252 APPENDIX. M. AUEELITJS. Eeligions, true or false, may lend support To man's right conduct : some deterr from ill Thro' fear, and others lead by gentleness, Benevolence in thought, beneficence In action, and at times to patriotism And gallant struggles for their native land. LUCIAN. So. much the worse for these. Did Julius spare The Druid in his grove? no; he wrencht ofi" The golden sickle from the misleto. And burnt the wicker basket ere it held Aloft on sacred oak the wretch within. M. AUEELITJS. I doubt it : he knew weU the use of priests. Scofiing was not his fault, ambition was; Yet clemency could over-rule ambition. LUCIAN. This of all vices is the very worst Where the best men are made the sacrifice. M. AUKELIUS. I am accused, I hear, of wanting it. LUCIAN. Yet thou too, Marcus, art ambitious; thou Wouldst conquer worlds . . with kindness, wouldst instruct APPENDIX. 253 The unwise, controll the violent, and divert From battle-field to corn-field. M. AURELIUS. This I would. But never irritate weak intellects Clinging to a religion learnt by heart From nurse and mother, thence most justly dear. • LUCIAN. Founded on falsehood are not all religions, All copies, more or less, from older ones'? Some by transfusion purified, and some Weaken'd, and pour'd again upon the dregs. Until they first ferment and then turn sour. M. AUKELIUS. Yet, Lucian, there is truth in one religion. Truth in that one which rises from a heart With sweet and sUent gratitude o'erfiowing. LUCIAN. Weakest of orders is the composite, Siich is the fabric folks walk under here. Already we have seen part after part Crack off", and terrify bare scalps below. M. AURELIUS. Leave Rome her quiet Gods. LUCIAN. Not Saturn though, 254 APPENDIX. Who would have eaten every God ere teetht. But his first-bom disabled him, and made The little Venus laugh at granpapa. M. AURELIUS. We are not going up so far as him. LUCIAN. Fain would I stop at Venus and her son ; It were ungrateful in me to malign Such gentle Deities ; to laugh at them They now, alas ! have left me little power ; Juno has helpt in my discomfiture. M. AURELIUS. Into your Lares I will not intrude : Temples I enter rarely ; not a God Minds me above those atoms of the earth Whereof we, low and lofty, are composed. Such is the surest doctrine to uphold. But to divulge even this may be unsafe. Have not we known the Sage of Palestine Derided, persecuted, crucified 1 Have we not seen his simple followers Slaughter'd in this our city, this our Eome, Some burnt alive, some thrown among wild beasts ? LUCIAN. Woefully true ! and thieves and murderers Have sprung up from the ground whereon they bled ; No wicker-basket men, men calling Heaven To help them in their vengeance on a foe APPENDIX. 255 Who puts the left leg where he should the right, And will not draw it back, but walk strait on. M. AURELIUS. Woefully true this also, but unwise, Becaiise unsafe, to utter. LUCIAN. Truth is more Unsafe than falsehood, and was ever so. M. AUEELTUS. • Well, I would not exasperate by wit's Sharp point the robb'd and bleeding ; stoop thou rather To heal them. LUCIAN. They would kick me in the face If for such office I bend over them. Better to strip the sophists of their rings And trailing trappings, chaunting boys before. Waving fat incense up against their beards Ere they parade in them through every street, And at the end of Via Sacra halt To choose an Imperator of their own. M. AURELIUS. Friend Lucian! thou art more jocose than ever. Why not imagtue they may take my horse ' From under me, then round men's shoulders strap The curule chair and hoist a priest thereon ? 256 APPENDIX. LTJGIAN. Thy depth of wisdom, Marcus, long I knew, But never knew thee poet til this hour. Homer feign'd Polypheme, Caljrpso, Circe, Imagination left him on the strand With these ; he never saw, even in a dream. So strange a rider mount a curule chair. The sentiments of M. Aurelivis and of Lucian are here exhibited. That Lucian was an honest man (if such a scoffer as he and Rabe- lais, and Cervantes and Dean Swift, are allowed to be) is probable by so sagacious and virtuous a prince as M. Aurelius appointing him to an important office in Egypt. There "is more of banter than of wit in his Dialogues. In wit he is far inferior to Moliere, Voltaire, Con- greve. Swift, Hood, and some now living. APPENDIX. 257 ON THE DESCENT INTO HELL OF BZZELINO DI NAPOLL Eejoice, ye nations! one is dead By whom ten thousand hearts have bled. Widows and orphans, raise your voice . . One voice, ye prostrate peoples, raise To God; to God alone be praise! All dwellers upon earth, rejoice: The imprisond soul, the tortured limb. Are now at last set free by Him. Each king their fellow king supplied With thongs to scourge ye : but your wrongs Eeacht highest heaven; Angelic tongues Shouted when Earth's Flagellant died. The Demons heard and yell'd below. Glad that his endless day of woe (Long after theirs) had dimly dawn'd. The proudest of them all sate dumb. Angry that any Prince should come. Who grudg'd to give the soul he pawn'd. He gnasht his teeth; opprobrious names Muttered on Death, and wisht his flames Could crack his stubborn ribs . . in vain . He must resign or share the place Imperial; he must bear disgrace While that intruder feels but pain. B 258 APPENDIX. The Devils' mouths but seldom water. Yet, sniffing this fat slug of slaughter, Theirs do, they then this grace begin, " We have carous'd on king and pope By dozens; could the worthiest hope A second course of Ezzelini" APPENDIX. 259 ON LADY CHAELES BEAUCLERC'S DEATH. Not empty are the honours that we pay To the departed ; our own hearts are fill'd Brimfull with grateful reminiscences ; Compassion is excited ; the most stem Relent ; and better even the best return. Such, Teresita, were my thoughts, all day, All night, when thou wert carried to thy home Eternal, amid tears thou coiddst not share. Thither where none, not even of joy, are shed. Surrounded with God's own serenity Is that pure brow rais'd humbly to his throne. Leaving thy home and those most dear awhUe, Thou, a few months before, wouldst have consoled My sufferings : who shall now console thy sire's 1 Proud not of victories won in southern climes And equal laws administer'd, but proud Of virtues he implanted in his child. 260 APPENDIX. ON THE CONFLAGEATION OF THE PO. Why is, and whence, the Po in flames'? and why In consternation do its borderers raise Imploring hands to mortal men around And Gods above? Are Gods implacable? Or men bereft of sight at such a blaze 1 Apollo hath no more a son ; his breath Is stifled, and smoke only fills the air Where once was fire, and men to men were true. Fierce ones and faithless now approach the waste, Who look transversely with an evil eye. And scowl and threaten, and uplift the sword. And, if they lower it, 'tis but to grasp more And more of amber left on either bank. ApoUo" hates the land he once so loved, Nor swan is seen nor nightingale is heard Nigh the dead river and affrighted vale, For every Nymph shed there incessant tears. And into amber hardened aU they shed. APPENDIX. 261 BLESSING ON PYTHAGORAS. BY AN ANCIENT PYTHAGOREAN. Blessed be lie who taught us to abstaia From flesh of animal, and bean as bad, But stated days appointed wherein fish. Marine or fluvial, scaly or smooth-skin'd. And pullet eggs, and certain mild legumes Which rise not up rebellious like the bean, Were unprohibited. Be blessed he Who fearless walked upon his golden thigh Over the sea from Egypt's holy land Until ab length he reacht our Italy, Pythagoras. We stil keep his commands. Save only those which rigidly forbid Bloodshed, of beast not only, but of man : This the most righteous pray the Gods to grant. I do confess, and would repent, my sins, But harder is repentance than confession, For bovine I have eaten, nor abstain'd From porcine, and would rather shed such blood Than blood of feUow man. " Thou art perverse," The righteous say, and deem this absttaence Capricious. " Why not slay him if thou slay Creatures more innocent f " Such argument Baffles reply; therefor I, hastening home. Lay napkin upon knee and carve my beef. 262 APPENDIX. A POET LEAVING ATHENS. Speak not too ill of me, Athenian friends ! Nor ye, Athenian sages, speak too HI! From others of aE tribes am I secure. I leave your confines : none whom you caress, Finding me hungry and athirst, shall dip Into Cephisos the grey bowl to quench My thirst, or break the horny bread, and scoop StifiBiy around the scanty vase, wherewith To gather the hard honey at the sides. And give it me for having heard me sing. Sages and friends ! a better cause remains For wishing no black sail upon my mast. 'Tis, friends and sages ! lest, when other men Say words a little gentler, ye repent. Yet be forbidden by stern pride to share The golden cup of kindness, pushing back Your seats, and gasping for a draught of scorn. Alas ! shall this too, never lackt before. Be, when you most would crave it, out of reach ? Thus on the plank, now Neptune is invoked, I warn you of your peril : I must live. And ye, friends, howe'er unwilling, may. APPENDIX. 263 DE LIBEETATE. Diva ilia quae nunc exulat Neapoli Sub Alpibus non algida est ; Ibi iUa diva, fortibus semper comes, Te ampleititur, Poerio! i64 APPENDIX. AD EOMAM PEEICLITANTEM. Eoma! sortem quis tuam non defleat! Ut amara contigit piis! Deos deasque mox videbimus nate Nud^i atque vix superstitem; Sed una restat quae tibi servat fidem, Laverna; liquit filium; De Vaticano monte dum vibrat faces Et fulmina et tonitrua, Fragore ridens artifix vafer suo, Benedicite! ait, henedicite! APPENDIX. 265 AD LIBERTATEM. QU^ revisas arva Quiritium, CoUesque Tuscos et salices Padi, Udosque fines Sirmionis, Gramineasque vias Tarenti ! Quae nunc Canopum, nunc Arabum sinus, Marisque rubri quae penetras vada, Thracemque, Libertas, Getamque, Degeneremque fugis Britannum ! Ah qudm fideli pectore te mea Fovit juventus ! quam patriae pudet ! Sublustre quam sordet sacellum, Qu^m veteres periere luci ! Quos nunc adibis 1 Hesperios viros, Viros Iberosl an pateram libet Puram et salubrem implere ab Istri Fontibus, exiguone Eheno 1 Sylvse mentis, fluminis abditi, Audire planctus, aerti laciis Primfini susurros, dein cachinnos, Dein fremitum et rabiem, et ruinam Utrinque sparsam ab culmine rupium. Ascenders inter, stare super, juvat : Qui magna consuescunt videre Magna ferent, facientque magna. Refringis istis et glaciem Alpium Metumque pellis pensUibus jugis : Quocunque spectaris renident Lumine candidiore soles. 266 APPENDIX. Messana, tendens brachia vinculis Exserta, pubes te Drepani, vocat : Interque pastores renidens Musa siracosiis cachinnis. Horrentia intras msenia vepribus Quels Archimedis contegitur cyclus, Callesque quos ferro notavit Empedocles, deus Agrigenti. Quin vulgus excors nobilium crepet, At integri te dum seqaerer fide, Plutonias sedes adirem Et canerem Stygias ad undas. APPENDIX. 267 AD HBROINAM. Qu^NAM dearum stat medi4 vii 1 Qui me morantem voce jubet sequi 1 Gressum recognosco superbum, Atque oculos aliter timendos. Trivultiorum filia nobilis ! Nuper benigno lumine Larium Lustrans, reliquisti paternse De proavis ditionis Alpes, Vallesque flavas et juga vitium Obducta pronis retibus 1 est acer* Pubentibus fidus minister, Sunt nemora undisonseque villee : Lympham inquietam subter imagines Candore mulcent, duraque Mediae Gemma t intepentis large odores Ccelitibus placidis profundit. Parendum . . Eamus quk tuba concitat Ad arma seros Ausonise siros, Qua Roma vexiUis coruscat Ad nemora Albunese sonantis. * Cui (non ulmo ut olim) vites ligatur. Aliquibxis agri Mediota- nensis locis, mille passuum sub earum compagibus ambulatio est. t Citrei flos durus et solidus est. 268 APPENDIX. Corneliarum non domus interit, Non mersa fulvo gurgite Clelia, Non Arrise ferrum vetustas (Hoc geris increpitans) peredit. En ! vulneratis illam adhibes manum Quam gloria esset tangere regibus, Nee dentium studorem acutum Nee saniem refugis nigrantem. Citum latronis nunc retrabit pedem Detrusa agresti milite G-allia, Diu sibi ipsi non fidelis, Ast aliis malefida semper. Musae, fatebor sponte, Britannicse In calceo alto pes patulus natat. Nee Gratise zonam modestse Pectoribus religant anbeHs : Sed barbarorum cruda loquentia Te non lacesset ; non vacuum melos Tibi insusurrandum ; nee ibis Deciduo deeorata serto. Ad imperantis Justitise latus Guttam supremam sanguinis ablues, Post bella, post regum tumultus, Egerise gelido liquore. Ubi ille in alto qui solet sethere Volare 1 ubi ales qui Jovis ad latus APPENDIX. 269 Sedere 1 bubonem videmus ; Occinit in mediis ruinis. Qui liberandum protenus Adriam Edixit alta voce vocantibus Idem resurgentem vetustis Implicat Italiam catenis, Urbes reclamant . . "I, caput occula, Nee pejeratum laurea protegat ! I, regibus solis fidelis ! I, maculate cruore nostro." En ! coUa torquet libera pontifex Quern Koma dudum finibus expulit. Inulta-ne seternum manebit superi ! Perusina ccedes 1 270 APPENDIX. PRECES PRO SALUTE REGIS QUI MORBO PEDICULARI LABORAT. Ut Natura jubet, pisces sint piscibus escee ; Atqui, pedicule, parce tu pediculo. Usque clientelae fidissimus hospes adhsere; Vivax sit ille, vestris annuentibus, Quamvis per tenebras et claustra diutius audit Paucos gementAm (ut ante) queis gavisus est. Carminibus Superos calidis pietate precamur Vivat, pediculis simul cobortibus. Quumque suprema dies illuxerit, ista legantur . . Pediculorum maximum boc marmor tegit. APPENDIX. 271 AD PONTIFICEM, CIVIUM CiEDE IN UEBE PEEUGli JUSSU EJUS PATRAT^. Fallere non sat erat populos, quin csede latrones Pascis, et infantum sanguine tingis avos. Haudfacis ipse, inquis; viti! perfide! nonne coronam Imponisque duci concelebrasque diemi Proh scelus! et Galli circtim sine vindice dextr4 Talia facta vident intnituque probant! Exul eris, fraudesque tuae caedesque patescent . . Vive Dei oblitus; non erit ille tui. 272 APPENDIX. AD EEGEM SAEDINIJi:. Haud unquam tetigit regum mea dextera dextram, Horum alii jaceant, ut lubet, ante pedes. Dixerit baud quisquam me solicitisse potentliiii Munera, quae dederit ant potuere dare : Est igitur licitum jam denique plaudere soli Qui manibus puris sceptra paterna gerit. Vive, salus patriae! neque cessent praeUa donee Projectus fuerit Noricus ensis humi. Eestituat Eomae popularia jura tribunus* Qui tua nunc anteit castra, vir ante viros. * Barbarorum copias primus fudit fugavitque (Jaribaldus, miles strenuus, dux providus, aliorum sanguinis parous, profusus sui. Gloriam, quam adaptus est, civium caritati posthabeat. NOTES. p. 5, line 2. Thy heautifvlly-sloried streets. Greek authors have recorded that the houses of Tanagra were painted on the outside. In like manner were many in the towns of Tuscany. There was Massa La dipinta : and within our memory some beautiful paintings have been effaced in Florence. Opposite to the Porta Bomana was the front of a house adorned by the hand of Giovanni da San Giovanni, Probably the decorations of Tanagra commemorated heroes or demigods or illustrious citizens. Landscape, as rural scenes are called, was little cultivated before the time of Titian, whose baokgrovmd to his Peter Martyr is sublime. P. 66, line 1. CatiUus and Salia. Plutark 80 calls the founder of Tibur. Horace writes Mmnia Catili. P. 129, line 1. Pindar and Hiero. Mr Gladstone's two ponderous volumes on Homer open and shut on nothing new or important. Whatever is worth notice in them may be found in Perides and Aspasia. P. 248, line 3. Southey and Hare and, on his deathbed, Ward.* Southey's criticism on Gebir may be found in the Critical Review for September 1799. He says on Oebir's speech to the Gradites, " A passage more truly Homeric than the close of this extract we do not remember in the volumes of modem poetry." P. 248, line 13. When Cowley shone near Milton. The learned Ainsworth says that Cowley was " poetarum sseouli sui facile princeps." * Lord Dudley and Ward. ADDITIONS AND COEEECTIONS. p. 2. Thrasymedes and JEunoe. 14tli line : " Hera " should be " Herg." P. 3, 1st line : "Piraeos" should be "Piraeeus." P. 13. Homer and Laertes. After " Sing cheerily but when the throat is moist." Add: HOMER. I sang to maidens in my prime ; again (But not before the morrow) wiU I sing : Let me repose this noontide, since in sooth Wine, a sweet remedy for weariness. Helps to uplift its burden. LAERTES. Lie then down Along yon mat bestrown with rosemary. And, Agatha, do thou bring speedily The two large ewers, and fill brimfuU the bath 276 ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS. Capacious ; that of brass ; Penelope's Own bath, -wherein she laught to see her boy Paddle, like cygnet with its broad black oars, Nor shunn'd the chilly water he threw up Against her face . . he who grew soon so sage ! Then do thou, maiden, from hot cauldron pour Enough to make it soothing to the feet ; After, bring store of rushes, and long leaves Of cane sweet-smeUing, from the inland bank Of that famed river far across the sea Opposite, to our eyes invisible. Be sure thou smoothen with both hands his couch Who has the power to make both young and old Live throughout ages. AGATHA. And look well throughout? LAERTES. Aye, aye, and better than they lookt before. May thou rest weU, old wanderer ! Even the Gods Eepose, the Sun himself sinks down to rest. P. 69. Coresus aind Callirhoe. 9th line from the bottom : " CatUlus " should be " Coresus." P. 68. CatiUus and Salia. 13th line : "oscillating now" should be " now oscillating." ADDITIONS AND COREECTIONS. 277 14th line : " Alone upon the water; look up; how befriends us" should be "Alone upon the water; how befriends us." P. 80. Pan and Pitys: 10th line from the bottom : " And thou, Pan, than aU ," should be " And thou, Pan, worse than all." 5th line from the bottom : " Was safe, the love-sick swain kept a sharp look there" should be " Was safe, the love-sick swain kept sharp look there." P. 102. Gehir. 6th line : " Leant " should be " Lean'd." P. 109. Chrysaor. Last line : " with which " should be " wherewith." P. 118. Leontion, on Ternissa's Death. 4th line of second stanza : " once Temissa " should be " our Ternissa." P. 123. Sophron's Hymn. 10th line : " Is there a city " should be " Is there in city." 278 ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS. P. 129. Pindar and Hiero. 6tli line : Pindar's speech should have been piinted " In verse I sing Not always dithyrambics. I may lift A mortal," &c. Omitting " We do not feed On race-horse flesh, nor drive the chariot-wheels Upon the table. Even " P. 135. Cleone to Aspasia. 12th line : " Heap up" should be " Heave up." P. 144. The Famine in Etruria. 1st and 2d lines should be, " Joyous they return'd, such joy As could find entrance in such shrunk abodes." P. 177. Corythos. 8th line : " What fault was ever mine," should be " What fault, ye Gods, was mine," P. 179, 10th line from bottom : " Hercules " should be " Heracles." P. 183, 4th line : " Her hand to him : now first was he ashamed " should be " Her hand to Corythos : he stood ashamed." ADDITIONS AND CORRECTIONS. 279 5th line : " He looks, he sighs," should be " He " lookt, he sigh'd," 6th liue : " He hangs upon her words " should be "He hung," &c. 8th line : " said she " should be " thought she." At once he told her why he came : she held Her hand to Corjrthos : he stood ashamed Not to have hated her : he lookt, he sigh'd. He hung upon her words . . what gentle words ! How chaste her countenance. " What open brows The brave :and beauteous ever have !" thought she. P. 192. Peleus and Thetis. 11th Line : "CEolus" should be "iRolos." BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY, PRINTERS, EDINBl'ROH, i