But rakel Chance and Fortune blind_The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight Dramas

Had not the power:--Eternal Mind

Led man upon a way design'd,

By strait selection

Of pleasurable ways, to find

Severe perfection.

For Nature did not idly spend

Pleasure: she ruled it should attend

On every act that doth amend

Our life's condition:

'Tis therefore not well-being's end,

But its fruition.

Beasts that inherited delight

In what promoted health or might,

Survived their cousins in the fight:

If some--like Adam--

Prefer'd the wrong tree to the right,

The devil had 'em.

So when man's Reason took the reins,

She found that she was saved her pains;

She had but to approve the gains

Of agelong inscience,

And spin it fresh into her brains

As moral conscience.

But Instinct in the beasts that live

Is of three kinds; (Nature did give

To man three shakings in her sieve)--

The first is Racial,

The second Self-preservative,

The third is Social.

Without the first no race could be,

So 'tis the strongest of the three;

Nay, of such forceful tyranny

'Tis hard to attune it,

Because 'twas never made to agree

To serve the unit:

Art will not picture it, its name

In common talk is utter shame:

And yet hath Reason learn'd to tame

Its conflagration

Into a sacramental flame

Of consecration.

Those hundred thousand years, ah me!

Of budding soul! What slow degree,

With aim so dim, so true! We see,

Now that we know them,

Our humble cave-folk ancestry,

How much we owe them:

While with the savage beasts around

They fought at odds, yet underground

Their miserable life was sound;

Their loves and quarrels

Did well th' ideal bases found

Of art and morals:

One prime distinction, Good and Ill,

Was all their notion, all their skill;--

But Unity stands next to Nil;--

Want of analysis

Saved them from doubts that wreck the Will

With pale paralysis.

In vain philosophers dispute

'Is Good or Pleasure our pursuit?'--

The fruit likes man, not man the fruit;

The good that likes him,

The good man's pleasure 'tis to do 't;

That's how it strikes him.

Tho' Science hide beneath her feet

The point where moral reasonings meet,

The vicious circle is complete;

There is no lodgement

Save Aristotle's own retreat,

The just man's judgement.

And if thou wert not that just man,

Wild Robin, born to crown his plan,

We shall not for that matter ban

Thy petty treason,

Nor closely thy defection scan

From highest Reason.

Thou might'st have lived like Robin Hood

Waylaying Abbots in the wood,

Doing whate'er thee-seemèd good,

The law defying,

And 'mong the people's heroes stood

Living and dying:

Yet better bow than his thou bendest,

And well the poor man thou befriendest,

And oftentime an ill amendest;

When, if truth touch thee,

Sharply the arrow home thou sendest;

There's none can match thee.

So pity it is thou knew'st the teen

Of sad remorse: the Might-have-been

Shall not o'ercloud thy merry scene

With vain repentance,

Nor forfeit from thy spirit keen

My friendly sentence.

THE PORTRAIT OF A GRANDFATHER

With mild eyes agaze, and lips ready to speak,

Whereon the yearning of love, the warning of wisdom plays,

One portrait ever charms me and teaches me when I seek:

It is of him whom I, remembering my young days,

Imagine fathering my father; when he, in sonship afore,

Liv'd honouring and obeying the eyes now pictur'd agaze,

The lips ready to speak, that promise but speak no more.

O high parental claim, that were not but for the knowing,

O fateful bond of duty, O more than body that bore,

The smile that guides me to right, the gaze that follows my going,

How had I stray'd without thee! and yet how few will seek

The spirit-hands, that heaven, in tender-free bestowing,

Holds to her children, to guide the wandering and aid the weak.

And Thee! ah what of thee, thou lover of men? if truly

A painter had stell'd thee there, with thy lips ready to speak,

In all-fathering passion to souls enchanted newly,

--Tenderer call than of sire to son, or of lover to maiden,--

Ever ready to speak to us, if we will hearken duly,

'Come, O come unto me, ye weary and heavy-laden!'

[1880.]

AN INVITATION TO THE OXFORD

PAGEANT, JULY 1907

Fair lady of learning, playfellow of spring,

Who to thy towery hospice in the vale

Invitest all, with queenly claim to bring

Scholars from every land within thy pale;

If aught our pageantry may now avail

To paint thine antique story to the eye,

Inspire the scene, and bid thy herald cry

Welcome to all, and to all comers hail!

Come hither, then he crieth, and hail to all.

Bow each his heart a pilgrim at her shrine,

Whatever chance hath led you to my call,

Ye that love pomp, and ye that seek a sign,

Or on the low earth look for things divine;

Nor ye, whom reverend Camus near-allied,

Writes in the roll of his ennobled pride,

Refrain your praise and love to mix with mine.

Praise her, the mother of celestial moods,

Who o'er the saints' inviolate array

Hath starr'd her robe of fair beatitudes

With jewels worn by Hellas, on the day

She grew from girlhood into wisdom gay;

And hath laid by her crozier, evermore

With both hands gathering to enrich her store,

And make her courts with music ring alway.

Love her, for that the world is in her heart,

Man's rude antiquity and doubtful goal,

The heaven-enthralling luxury of art,

The burden'd pleading of his clay-bound soul,

The mutual office of delight and dole,

The merry laugh of youth, the joy of life

Older than thought, and the unamending strife

'Twixt liberty and politic control.

There is none holier, not the lilied town

By Arno, whither the spirit of Athens fled,

Escap't from Hades to a less renown,

Yet joyful to be risen from the dead;

Nor she whose wide imperious arms were spread

To spoil mankind, until the avenger came

In darkening storm, and left a ruin'd name,

A triple crown, upon a vanquish't head.

What love in myriad hearts in every clime

The vision of her beauty calls to pray'r:

Where at his feet Himâlaya sublime

Holds up aslope the Arabian floods, or where

Patriarchal Nile rears at his watery stair;

In the broad islands of the Antipodes,

By Esperanza, or in the coral seas

Where Buddha's vain pagodas throng the air;

Or where the chivalry of Nipon smote

The wily Muscovite, intent to creep

Around the world with half his pride afloat,

And sent his battle to the soundless deep;

Or with our pilgrim-kin, and them that reap

The prairie-corn beyond cold Labrador

To California and the Alaskan shore,

Her exiled sons their pious memory keep:

Bright memories of young poetic pleasure

In free companionship, the loving stress

Of all life-beauty lull'd in studious leisure,

When every Muse was jocund with excess

Of fine delight and tremulous happiness;

The breath of an indolent unbridled June,

When delicate thought fell from the dreamy moon:

But now strange care, sorrow, and grief oppress.

'_Ah! fewer tears shall be_,--'tis thus they dream,--

_Ah, fewer, softer tears, when we lie low:

On younger brows shall brighter laurel gleam:

Lovelier and earlier shall the rosebuds blow_.'

For in this hope she nurs'd them, and to know

That Truth, while men regard a tetter'd page,

Leaps on the mountains, and from age to age

Reveals the dayspring's inexhausted glow.

Yet all their joy is mingled with regret:

As the lone scholar on a neighbouring height,

Brooding disconsolate with eyelids wet

Ere o'er the unkind world he took his flight,

Look'd down upon her festal lamps at night,

And while the far call of her warning bell

Reach't to his heart, sang us his fond farewell,

Beneath the stars thinking of lost delight;

'Farewell! for whether we be young or old,

Thou dost remain, but we shall pass away:

Time shall against himself thy house uphold,

And build thy sanctuary from decay;

Children unborn shall be thy pride and stay.

May Earth protect thee, and thy sons be true;

And God with heavenly food thy life renew,

Thy pleasure and thy grace from day to day.'

IN MEMORY OF THE OLD-ETONIANS

WHOSE LIVES WERE LOST IN THE S. AFRICAN WAR

_An ode set to music by Sir Hubert Parry and performed when

K. Edward VII inaugurated the Memorial Hall at

Eton College_

Resound! Resound! To jubilant music ring!

Your birthday trumpets sound the alarm of strenuous days.

Ye new-built walls, awake! and welcome England's King

With a high GLORY-TO-GOD, and holy cheer of praise.

Awake to fairest hope of fames unknown, unseen,

When ye-too silver and solemn with age shall be:

For all that is fair upon earth is reared with tend'rest teen,

As the burden'd years to memory flee.

Lament, O Muse of the Thames, in pride lament again,

With low melodious grief remember them in this hour!--

Beyond your dauntless joy, my brother, was our pain.

Above all gold, my country, the lavish price of thy power--

The ancient groves have mourn'd our sons, for whom no more

The sisterly kisses of life, the loved embraces.

Remember the love of them who came not home from the war,

The fatherly tears and the veil'd faces.

III

Now henceforth their shrine is builded, high and vast,

Alway drawing noble hearts to noble deeds;

In the toil of glory to be, and the tale of glory past:

While ever the laughing waves of youth pass over the meads,

And the tongue of Hellas is heard, and old Time slumbereth light

In the cradle of Peace. O let thy dancing feet

Roam in our land and abide, dear Peace, thou child of Right,

Giver of happiness, gentle and sweet.

ODE TO MUSIC

WRITTEN FOR THE BICENTENARY COMMEMORATION OF

HENRY PURCELL

_Music composed by Sir Hubert Parry, and performed at the

Leeds Festival and Commemoration Festival in

London, 1895_

Myriad-voiced Queen, Enchantress of the air,

Bride of the life of man! With tuneful reed,

With string and horn and high-adoring quire

Thy welcome we prepare.

In silver-speaking mirrors of desire,

In joyous ravishment of mystery draw thou near,

With heavenly echo of thoughts, that dreaming lie

Chain'd in unborn oblivion drear,

Thy many-hearted grace restore

Unto our isle our own to be,

And make again our Graces three.

Turn, O return! In merry England

Foster'd thou wert with infant Liberty.

Her gloried oaks, that stand

With trembling leaves and giant heart

Drinking in beauty from the summer moon,

Her wild-wood once was dear to thee.

There the birds with tiny art

Earth's immemorial cradle-tune

Warble at dawn to fern and fawn,

In the budding thickets making merry;

And for their love the primrose faint

Floods the green shade with youthful scent.

Come, thy jocund spring renew

By hyacinthine lakes of blue:

Thy beauty shall enchant the buxom May;

And all the summer months shall strew thy way,

And rose and honeysuckle rear

Their flowery screens, till under fruit and berry

The tall brake groweth golden with the year.

III

Thee fair Poetry oft hath sought,

Wandering lone in wayward thought,

On level meads by gliding streams,

When summer noon is full of dreams:

And thy loved airs her soul invade,

Haunting retired the willow shade.

Or in some walled orchard nook

She communes with her ancient book,

Beneath the branches laden low;

While the high sun o'er bosom'd snow

Smiteth all day the long hill-side

With ripening cornfields waving wide.

There if thou linger all the year,

No jar of man can reach thine ear,

Or sweetly comes, as when the sound

From hidden villages around,

Threading the woody knolls, is borne

Of bells that dong the Sabbath morn.

The sea with melancholy war

Moateth about our castled shore;

His world-wide elemental moan

Girdeth our lives with tragic zone.

He, ere men dared his watery path,

Fenced them aloof in wrath;

Their jealous brotherhoods

Sund'ring with bitter floods:

Till science grew and skill,

And their adventurous will

Challenged his boundaries, and went free

To know the round world, and the sea

From midday night to midnight sun

Binding all nations into one.

Yet shall his storm and mastering wave

Assure the empire to the brave;

And to his billowy bass belongs

The music of our patriot songs,

When to the wind his ridges go

In furious following, careering a-row,

Lasht with hail and withering snow:

And ever undaunted hearts outride

His rushing waters wide.

But when the winds fatigued or fled

Have left the drooping barks unsped,

And nothing stirs his idle plain

Save fire-breathed ships with silvery train,

While lovingly his waves he layeth,

And his slow heart in passion swells

To the pale moon in heav'n that strayeth,

And all his mighty music deep

Whispers among the heapèd shells,

Or in dark caverns lies asleep;--

Then dreams of Peace invite,

Haunting our shore with kisses light:

Nay--even Love's Paphian Queen hath come

Out of her long retirèd home

To show again her beauty bright;

And twice or thrice in sight hath play'd

Of a young lover unaffray'd,

And all his verse immortal made.

Love to Love calleth,

Love unto Love replieth:

From the ends of the earth, drawn by invisible bands,

Over the dawning and darkening lands

Love cometh to Love.

To the pangs of desire;

To the heart by courage and might

Escaped from hell,

From the torment of raging fire,

From the sighs of the drowning main,

From shipwreck of fear and pain,

From the terror of night.

All mankind by Love shall be banded

To combat Evil, the many-handed:

For the spirit of man on beauty feedeth,

The airy fancy he heedeth,

He regardeth Truth in the heavenly height,

In changeful pavilions of loveliness dight,

The sovran sun that knows not the night;

He loveth the beauty of earth,

And the sweet birds' mirth;

And out of his heart there falleth

A melody-making river

Of passion, that runneth ever

To the ends of the earth and crieth,

That yearneth and calleth;

And Love from the heart of man

To the heart of man replieth:

On the wings of desire

Love cometh to Love.

To me, to me, fair hearted Goddess, come,

To Sorrow come,

Where by the grave I linger dumb;

With sorrow bow thine head,

For all my beauty is dead,

Leave Freedom's vaunt and playful thought awhile,

Come with thine unimpassioned smile

Of heavenly peace, and with thy fourfold choir

Of fair uncloying harmony

Unveil the palaces where man's desire

Keepeth celestial solemnity.

Lament, fair hearted queen, lament with me:

For when thy seer died no song was sung,

Nor for our heroes fal'n by land or sea

Hath honour found a tongue:

Nor aught of beauty for their tomb can frame

Worthy their noble name.

Let Mirth go bare: make mute thy dancing string:

With thy majestic consolation

Sweeten our suffering.

Speak thou my woe; that from her pain

My spirit arise to see again

The Truth unknown that keeps our faith,

The Beauty unseen that bates our breath,

The heaven that doth our joy renew,

And drinketh up our tears as dew.

VII

DIRGE

Man born of desire

Cometh out of the night,

A wandering spark of fire,

A lonely word of eternal thought

Echoing in chance and forgot.

He seeth the sun,

He calleth the stars by name,

He saluteth the flowers.--

Wonders of land and sea,

The mountain towers

Of ice and air

He seeth, and calleth them fair:

Then he hideth his face;--

Whence he came to pass away

Where all is forgot,

Unmade--lost for aye

With the things that are not.

He striveth to know,

To unravel the Mind

That veileth in horror:

He wills to adore.

In wisdom he walketh

And loveth his kind;

His labouring breath

Would keep evermore:

Then he hideth his face;--

Whence he came to pass away

Where all is forgot,

Unmade--lost for aye

With the things that are not.

He dreameth of beauty,

He seeks to create

Fairer and fairer

To vanquish his Fate;

No hindrance he--

No curse will brook,

He maketh a law

No ill shall be:

Then he hideth his face;--

Whence he came to pass away

Where all is forgot,

Unmade--lost for aye

With the things that are not.

VIII

Rejoice, ye dead, where'er your spirits dwell,

Rejoice that yet on earth your fame is bright,

And that your names, remember'd day and night,

Live on the lips of those who love you well.

'Tis ye that conquer'd have the powers of Hell

Each with the special grace of your delight;

Ye are the world's creators, and by might

Alone of Heavenly love ye did excel.

Now ye are starry names

Behind the sun ye climb

To light the glooms of Time

With deathless flames.

Open for me the gates of delight,

The gates of the garden of man's desire;

Where spirits touch'd by heavenly fire

Have planted the trees of life.--

Their branches in beauty are spread,

Their fruit divine

To the nations is given for bread,

And crush'd into wine.

To thee, O man, the sun his truth hath given,

The moon hath whisper'd in love her silvery dreams;

Night hath unlockt the starry heaven,

The sea the trust of his streams:

And the rapture of woodland spring

Is stay'd in its flying;

And Death cannot sting

Its beauty undying.

Fear and Pity disentwine

Their aching beams in colours fine;

Pain and woe forgo their might.

After darkness thy leaping sight,

After dumbness thy dancing sound,

After fainting thy heavenly flight,

After sorrow thy pleasure crown'd:

O enter the garden of thy delight,

Thy solace is found.

To us, O Queen of sinless grace,

Now at our prayer unveil thy face:

Awake again thy beauty free;

Return and make our Graces three.

And with our thronging strength to the ends of the earth

Thy myriad-voicèd loveliness go forth,

To lead o'er all the world's wide ways

God's everlasting praise,

And every heart inspire

With the joy of man in the beauty of Love's desire.

A HYMN OF NATURE

AN ODE WRITTEN FOR MUSIC

_The music composed by Sir Hubert Parry, performed at

the Gloucester Festival, 1898_

Power eternal, power unknown, uncreate:

Force of force, fate of fate.

Beauty and light are thy seeing,

Wisdom and right thy decreeing,

Life of life is thy being.

In the smile of thine infinite starry gleam,

Without beginning or end,

Measure or number,

Beyond time and space,

Without foe or friend,

In the void of thy formless embrace,

All things pass as a dream

Of thine unbroken slumber.

Gloom and the night are thine:

On the face of thy mirror darkness and terror,

The smoke of thy blood, the frost of thy breath.

In silence and woful awe

Thy harrying angels of death

Destroy whate'er thou makest--

Makest, destroyest, destroyest and makest.

Thy gems of life thou dost squander,

Their virginal beauty givest to plunder,

Doomest to uttermost regions of age-long ice

To starve and expire:

Consumest with glance of fire,

Or back to confusion shakest

With earthquake, elemental storm and thunder.

III

In ways of beauty and peace

Fair desire, companion of man,

Leadeth the children of earth.

As when the storm doth cease,

The loving sun the clouds dispelleth,

And woodland walks are sweet in spring;

The birds they merrily sing

And every flower-bud swelleth.

Or where the heav'ns o'erspan

The lonely downs

When summer is high:

Below their breezy crowns

And grassy steep

Spreadeth the infinite smile of the sunlit sea;

Whereon the white ships swim,

And steal to havens far

Across the horizon dim,

Or lie becalm'd upon the windless deep,

Like thoughts of beauty and peace,

When the storm doth cease,

And fair desire, companion of man,

Leadeth the children of earth.

Man, born to toil, in his labour rejoiceth;

His voice is heard in the morn:

He armeth his hand and sallieth forth

To engage with the generous teeming earth,

And drinks from the rocky rills

The laughter of life.

Or else, in crowded cities gathering close,

He traffics morn and eve

In thronging market-halls;

Or within echoing walls

Of busy arsenals

Weldeth the stubborn iron to engines vast;

Or tends the thousand looms

Where, with black smoke o'ercast,

The land mourns in deep glooms.

Life is toil, and life is good:

There in loving brotherhood

Beateth the nation's heart of fire.

Strife! Strife! The strife is strong!

There battle thought and voice, and spirits conspire

In joyous dance around the tree of life,

And from the ringing choir

Riseth the praise of God from hearts in tuneful song.

Hark! What spirit doth entreat

The love-obedient air?

All the pomp of his delight

Revels on the ravisht night,

Wandering wilful, soaring fair:

There! 'Tis there, 'tis there.

Like a flower of primal fire

Late redeem'd by man's desire.

Away, on wings away

My spirit far hath flown,

To a land of love and peace,

Of beauty unknown.

The world that earth-born man,

By evil undismay'd,

Out of the breath of God

Hath for his heaven made.

Where all his dreams soe'er

Of holy things and fair

In splendour are upgrown,

Which thro' the toilsome years

Martyrs and faithful seers

And poets with holy tears

Of hope have sown.

There, beyond power of ill,

In joy and blessing crown'd,

Christ with His lamp of truth

Sitteth upon the hill

Of everlasting youth,

And calls His saints around.

Sweet compassionate tears

Have dimm'd my earthly sight,

Tears of love, the showers wherewith

The eternal morn is bright:

Dews of the heav'nly spheres.

With tears my eyes are wet,

Tears not of vain regret,

Tears of no lost delight,

Dews of the heav'nly spheres

Have dimm'd my earthly sight,

Sweet compassionate tears.

VII

Gird on thy sword, O man, thy strength endue,

In fair desire thine earth-born joy renew.

Live thou thy life beneath the making sun

Till Beauty, Truth, and Love in thee are one.

Thro' thousand ages hath thy childhood run:

On timeless ruin hath thy glory been:

From the forgotten night of loves fordone

Thou risest in the dawn of hopes unseen.

Higher and higher shall thy thoughts aspire,

Unto the stars of heaven, and pass away,

And earth renew the buds of thy desire

In fleeting blooms of everlasting day.

Thy work with beauty crown, thy life with love;

Thy mind with truth uplift to God above:

For whom all is, from whom was all begun,

In whom all Beauty, Truth, and Love are one.

POEMS

CLASSICAL PROSODY

[Illustration: decoration]

_PREVIOUS PUBLICATIONS_

_Fp. I._ Daniel Press. 1903.

_" II._ _Monthly Review. July, 1903, with

an abstract of Stone's Prosody, as

there used._

_No. 3._ _Printed by C. H. Daniel. 1903._

_" 8._ _In 'Pelican,' C.C.C., Oxford._

_" 9._ _English Review. March, 1912._

_" 21._ _New Quarterly. Jan. 1909, with

an essay on the Virgilian Hexameter,

&c._

These experiments in quantitive verse were made in fulfilment of a

promise to William Johnson Stone that I would some day test his

theory. His premature death converted my consent into a serious

obligation. This personal explanation is due to myself for two

reasons: because I might otherwise appear firstly as an advocate of

the system, secondly as responsible for Stone's determination of

the lengths of English syllables. Before writing quantitive verse

it is necessary to learn to _think_ in quantities. This is no light

task, and a beginner requires fixed rules. Except for a few minor

details, which I had disputed with Mr. Stone, I was bound to take

his rules as he had elaborated them; and it was not until I had

made some progress and could think fairly well in his prosody that

I seriously criticized it. The two chief errors that I find in it

are that he relied too much on the quality of a vowel in

determining its syllabic length, and that he regarded the _h_ as

_always_ consonantal in quality. His valuation of the _er_ sound is

doubtful, but defensible and convenient, and I have never discarded

it. My earlier experiments contain therefore a good many 'false

quantities', and these, where they could not be very easily (though

_inconsistently_) amended, I have left, and marked most of them in

the text: a few false quantities do not make a poem less readable.

Thus a long mark over a syllable means that Stone reckoned it as

long, and that the verse requires it to be so pronounced, but that

I regard it as short, or at least as _doubtful_. For example on p.

414 _Rūin_ is thus written. Of all accented long vowels in 'open'

position the long _u_ seems perhaps to retain its quantity best,

but there is evidence that Tennyson held it to be shortened, and I

do not know whether it might be an exception or go with thĕory,

pĭety, pŏetry, &c. Again, where a final syllable should be

lengthened or not shortened by position, but lacks its consonantal

support, I have put a [v] in the gap: these weak places are chiefly

due to my accepting Stone's unchanging valuation of _h_. My

emancipation from Stone's rules was gradual, so that I have not

been able to distinguish definitely my earlier experiments from the

later, in which the quantities are such as I have now come to

approve of: but my line-for-line paraphrase of Virgil is such a

later experiment. It was accompanied in the _New Quarterly_ by a

long examination of the Virgilian hexameter, to which I would refer

any one who is interested in the subject. In these English

hexameters I have used and advocate the use of Miltonic elision.

The mark ' in the text shows where I have purposely allowed a short

syllable to sustain a long place. Though the difficulty of adapting

our English syllables to the Greek rules is very great, and even

deterrent--for I cannot pretend to have attained to an absolutely

consistent scheme--yet the experiments that I have made reveal a

vast unexplored field of delicate and expressive rhythms hitherto

unknown in our poetry: and this amply rewarded me for my friendly

undertaking.

EPISTLE I

TO L. M.

WINTRY DELIGHTS

Now in wintry delights, and long fireside meditation,

'Twixt studies and routine paying due court to the Muses,

My solace in solitude, when broken roads barricade me

Mudbound, unvisited for months with my merry children,

Grateful t'ward Providence, and heeding a slander against me

Less than a rheum, think of me to-day, dear Līonel, and take

This letter as some account of Will Stone's versification.

We, whose first memories reach half of a century backward,

May praise our fortune to have outliv'd so many dangers,--

Faultiness of Nature's unruly machinery or man's--; 10

For, once born, whatever 'tis worth, LIFE is to be held to,

Its mere persistence esteem'd as rēal attainment,

Its crown of silver reverenc'd as one promise of youth

Fruiting, of existence one needful purpose accomplish'd:

And 'twere worth the living, howe'er unkindly bereft of

Those joys and comforts, throu' which we chiefly regard it:

Nay,--set aside the pleasant unhinder'd order of our life,

Our happy enchantments of Fortune, easy surroundings,

Courteous acquaintance, dwelling in fair homes, the delight of

Long-plann'd excursions, the romance of journeying in lands

Historic, of sēeing their glory, the famous adornments 21

Giv'n to memorial Earth by man, decorator of all-time,

(--As wē saw with virginal eyes travelling to behold them,--)

Her gorgeous palaces, [v]her tow'rs and stately cathedrals;

Where the turrets and domes of pictured Tuscany slumber,

Or the havoc'd splendours of Rome imperial, or where

Glare the fretted minarets and mosks of trespassing Islam,

And old Nilus, amid the mummied suzerainty of Egypt,

Glideth, a godly presence, consciously regardless of all things,

Save his unending toil and ēternal recollections:-- 30

Set these out of account, and with them too put away ART,

Those ravishings of mind, those sensuous intelligences,

By whose grace the elect enjoy their sacred aloofness

From Life's meagre affairs, in beauty's rēgenerate youth

Reading immortality's sublime revelation, adoring

Their own heav'nly desire; nor alone in worship assist they,

But take, call'd of God, part and pleasure in crēation

Of that beauty, the first of His first purposes extoll'd:--

Yea, set aside with these all NATURE'S beauty, the wildwood's

Flow'ry domain, the flushing, softcrowding loveliness of Spring, 40

Lazy Summer's burning dīal, the serenely solemn spells

Of Sibylline Autumn, with gay-wing'd Plenty departing;

All fair change, whether of seasons or bright recurrent day,

Morning or eve; the divine night's wonderous empyrean;

High noon's melting azure, his thin cloud-country, the landscape

Mountainous or maritime, blue calms of midsummer Ocean,

Broad corn-grown champaign goldwaving in invisible wind,

Wide-water'd pasture, with shade of whispering aspen;

All whereby Nature winneth our love, fondly appearing

As to caress her children, or all that in exaltation 50

Lifteth aloft our hearts to an unseen glory beyond her:--

Put these out of account; yea, more I say, banish also

From the credit sŭm of enjoyment those simple AFFECTIONS,

Whose common exercise informs our natural instinct;

That, set in our animal flesh-fabric, of our very lifeblood

Draw their subsistence, and even in ungenerous hearts

Root, like plants in stony deserts and 'neath pitiless snows.

Yea, put away all LOVE, the blessings and pīeties[v]of home,

All delicate heart-bonds, vital tendernesses untold,

Joys that fear to be named, feelings too holy to gaze on; 60

And with his inviolate peace-trīumph his passionate war

Be forgone, his mighty desire, thrilling ecstasies, ardours

Of mystic reverence, his fierce flame-eager emotions,

Idolatrous service, blind faith and ritual of fire.

If from us all these things were taken away, (that is all art

And all beauty whate'er, and all love's varied affection,)

Yet would enough subsist in other concerns to suffice us,

And feed intelligence, and make life's justification.

What this is, if you should ask me, beyond or above the rejoicing

In vegetant or brute existence, answer is easy; 70

'Tis the reflective effort of mind that, conscious of itself,

Fares forth exploring nature for principle and cause,

Keenly with all the cunning pleasure and instinct of a hunter,

Who, in craft fashioning weapon and sly snare, tracketh after

His prey fl[=y]ing afield, and that which his arm killeth eateth.

History and SCĪENCE our playthings are: what an untold

Wealth of inexhaustive treasure is stored up for amusement!

Shall the amass'd Earth-structure appeal to me less than in early

Childhood an old fives-ball, whose wraps I wondering unwound,

Untwining the ravel'd worsted, that mere rubbish and waste

Of leather and shavings had bound and moulded elastic 81

Into a perfect sphere? Shall not the celestial earth-ball

Equally entertain a mature enquiry, reward our

Examination of its contexture, conglomerated

Of layer'd débris, the erosion of infinite ages?

Tho' I lack the wizard Darwin's scīentific insight

On the barren sea-beaches of East Patagonia gazing,

I must wond'ring attend, nay learn myself to decipher

Time's rich hīeroglyph, with vast elemental pencil

Scor'd upon Earth's rocky crust,--minute shells slowly collecting 90

Press'd to a stone, uprais'd to a mountain, again to a fine sand

Worn, burying the remains of an alien organic epoch,

In the flat accretions of new sedimentary strata;

All to be crush'd, crumpled, confused, contorted, abandon'd,

Broke, as a child's puzzle is, to be recompos'd with attention;

Nature's history-book, which shē hath torn as asham'd of;

And lest those pictures on[v]her fragmentary pages

Should too lightly reveal frustrate Antiquity, hath laid

Rūin upon rūin, revolution upon revolution:

Yet no single atom, no least insignificant grain 100

But, having order alike of fate, and faulty disorder,

Holds a record of Time, very vestiges of the Creation;

Which who will not attend scorns blindly the only commandments

By God's finger of old inscribed on table of earth-stone.

This for me wer' enough: yet confin'd Gēology's field

Counts not in all Scīence more than the planet to the Cosmos;

Where our central Sun, almighty material author,

And sustainer, appears as a half-consumed vanishing spark,

Bearing along with it, entangled in immensity's onward

Spiral eddies, the blacken'd dust-motes whirl'd off from around it. 110

But tho' man's microscopical functions measure all things

By his small footprints, finger-spans and ticking of clocks,

And thereby conceive the immense--such multiple extent

As to defy Idēas of imperative cerebration,--

None the less observing, measuring, patiently recording,

Hē mappeth out the utter wilderness of unlimited space;

Carefully weigheth a weight to the sun, reckoneth for it its path

Of trackless travelling, the precise momentary places

Of the planets and their satellites, their annual orbits,

Times, perturbations of times, and orbit of orbit. 120

What was Alexander's subduing of Asia, or that

Sheep-worry of Europe, when pigmy Napoleon enter'd

Her sovereign chambers, and her kings with terror eclips'd?

His footsore soldiers inciting across the ravag'd plains,

Thro' bloody fields of death tramping to an ugly disaster?

Shows any crown, set above the promise (so rudely accomplisht)

Of their fair godlike young faces, a glory to compare

With the immortal olive that circles bold Galileo's

Brows, the laurel'd halo[v]of Newton's unwithering fame? 129

Or what a child's surmise, how trifling a journey Columbus

Adventur'd, to a land like that which he sail'd from arriving,

If compar'd to Bessel's magic divination, awarding

Magnificent Sirius[v]his dark and invisible bride;

Or when Adams by Cam, (more nearly Leverrier in France,)

From the minutely measur'd vacillation of Uranus, augur'd

Where his mighty brother Neptune went wandering unnamed,

And thro' those thousand-million league-darknesses of space

Drew him slowly whene'er he pass'd, and slowly released him!

_Nil admirari!_ 'Tis surely a most shabby thinker 139

Who, looking on Nature, finds not the reflection appalling

And if these wonders we must with wonder abandon,

Astronomy's Cosmos, the Immense, and those physical laws

That link mind to matter, laws mutual in revelation,

Which measure and analyse Nature's primordial orgasm,

Lifegiving omnipotential LIGHT, its speed to determine,

Untwist its rainbow of various earthcoloring rays,

Counting strictly to each its own millionth-millimetred

Wave-length, and mapping out on fray'd diffraction of ether

All the adust elements and furnaced alchemy of[v]heav'n;

Laws which atone the disorder of infinit observation 150

With tyrannous numbers and abstract theory, closing

Protean Nature with nets of principle exact;

Her metamorphoses transmuting by correlation,

All heat, all chemical concourse or electrical action,

All force and all motion of all matter, or subtle or gross:--

If we these wonders, I say, with wonder abandon,

Nor can for mental heaviness their high study pursue,

Yet no story of adventures or fabulous exploit

Of famous'd heroes hath so rōmantic a discourse,

As these growing annals of long heav'n-scaling achievement

And far discoveries, which he who[v]idly neglecteth 161

Is but a boor as truly ridiculous as the village clown,

In whose thought the pleasant sun-ball performeth a circuit

Daily above mother earth, and resteth nightly beneath her.

Nor will a man, whose mind respects its own operations,

Lightly resign himself to remain in darkness uninform'd,

While any true scīence of fact lies easy within reach

Concerning Nature's ēternal essential object,

Self-matter, embodying substratum of ev'ry relation

Both of Time and Space, at once the machinery and stuff

Of those Idēas; carrier, giver, only receiver 171

Of such perceptions as arise in sensible organs.

Now whether each element is a cōherency of equal

Strictly symmetric atoms, or among themselves the atoms are

Like animals in a herd, having each an identity distinct,

--So that atoms of gold compar'd with sulphur or iron

Are but as ancient Greeks compar'd with Chinamen and Turks;--

Nor whether all elements are untransmutable offspring

From one kind or more thro' endless eternity changing,

Or whether invisibles claim rightly the name of immortals,

I make no[v]enquiry; matter minutely divided 181

Showing a like paradox, with ever-continuous extent,

And, as Adam, the atom will pose as a naked assumption:--

But since all the knowledge which man was born to attain to

Hath these only channels, (which must limit and qualify[v]it,)

We shall con the grammar, the material alphabet of life,

Yea, ev'n more from error to preserve our inquisitive mind,

Than to secure well-bēing against adversity and ill.

Surely if all is a flux, 'tis well to look into the flūid,

Inspect and question the apparent, shifty behaviour, 190

Wherein lurketh alone our witness of all physical law,

As we read the habits unchanging of invisible things,

Their timeless chronicles, the unintelligent ethic of dust:

In which dense labyrinth he who was guiding avised me,

With caution saying 'Were this globe's area of land

Wholly cover'd from sight, pack'd close to the watery margins

With mere empty vessels, I could myself put in each one

Some different substance, and write its formula thereon.'

Thus would speak the chemist; and Nature's superabundance,

Her vast infinitude of waste vāriety untold, 200

As[v]her immense extent and inconceivable object,

Squandering activities throughout ēternity, dwarfeth

Man's little aim and hour, his doubtful fancy: what are we?

Our petty selfseekings, our speedily passing affections?

Life having existed so extravagantly before us;

Earth bearing so slight a regard or care for us; and all

After us unconcern'd to remain, strange, beautiful as now.

May not an idle echo[v]of an antique pōetry haunt me,

'Friendship is all feigning, yea[v]all loving is folly only'?

--Yet doth not very mention of antique pōetry and love 210

Quickly recall to better motions my dispirited faith?

And I see man's discontent as witness asserting

His moral idēal, that, born of Nature, is heir to

Her children's titles, which nought may cancel or impugn;

Not wer' of all her works man least, but ranking among them

Highly or ev'n as best, he wrongs himself to imagine

His soul foe to her aim, or from[v]her sanction an outlaw.

Nay, but just as man should appear more fully accordant

With things not himself, would they rank with[v]him as equals:

Judging other creatures he sets them wholly beneath him;

His disquīet among manifold and alien objects 221

Bēing sure evidence, the effect of an understanding,

And perception allow'd by Nature solely to himself.

Highly then is to be prais'd the resourceful wisdom of our time,

That spunged out the written science and thēories of life,

And, laying foundation of its knowledge in physical law,

Gave it prēeminence o'er all enquiry, erecting

Superstructive of all, bringing ev'ry research to the object,

Boldly a new scīence of MAN, from dreamy scholastic

Imprisoning set free, and inveterate divination, 230

Into the light of truth, to the touch of history and fact.

Since 'the proper study of mankind is man',--nor aforetime

Was the proverb esteem'd as a truism less than it is now,--

'Tis strange that the method lay out of sight unaccomplisht,

And that we, so late to arrive, should first set a value

On the delusive efforts of human babyhood; and so

Witnessing impatiently the rear of their disappearance,

Upgathering the relics and vestiges of primitive man,

Should ratify[v]instinct for scīence, look to the darkness

For light, find a knowledge where 'twas most groping or unknown: 240

While civilization's advances mutely regarding

Talk we of old scapegoats, discuss bloodrites, immolations,

Worship of ancestors; explain complexities involved

Of tribal marriages, derivation of early religions,

Priestly taboos, totems, archaic mysteries of trees,

All the devils and dreams abhorr'd of barbarous ages.

And 'tis a far escape from wires, wheels and penny papers

And the worried congestion of our Victorian era,

Whose many inventions of world-wide luxury have changed

Life's very face:--but enough wē hear of progress, enough have 250

Our conscious scīence and comforts trumpeted; altho'

Hardly can I, who so many years eagerly frequented

Bartholomew's fountain, not speak of things to awaken

Kind old HIPPOCRATES, howe'er hē; slumbereth, entomb'd

'Neath the shatter'd winejars and rūined factories of Cos,

Or where hē wander'd in Thessalian Larissa:

For when his doctrine, which Rome had wisely adopted,

Sank lost with the treasures of[v]her deep-foundering empire,

No[v]art or scīence grew so contemptible, order'd 259

So by mere folly, windy caprice, superstition and chance,

As boastful MEDICINE, with humours fit for a madhouse,

Save when some Sydenham, like Samson among the Philistines,

Strode bond-bursting along with a smile of genial instinct.

Nor when here and there some ray, in darkness arising,

Hopefully seem'd to herald the coming dawn, (as when a Laennec

Or Jenner invented his meed of worthy remembrance,)

Did one mind foresee, one seer foretell the appearance

Of that unexpected daylight that arose upon our time.

Who dream'd that living air poison'd our SURGERY, coating

All our sheeny weapons with germs of an invisible death, 270

Till he saw the sterile steel work with immunity, and save

Quickly as its warring scimitars of victory had slain?

Saw what school-tradition for nature's kind method admir'd,

--In those lifedraining slow cures and bedridden agues,--

Forgotten, or condemn'd as want of care in a surgeon?

Tho' MEDICINE makes not so plain an appeal to the vulgar,

Yet she lags not a whit: her pregnant thēory touches

Deeper discoveries,[v]her more complete revolution

Gives promise of wider benefits in larger abundance.

Where she nam'd the disease she now separates the bacillus; 280

Sets the atoms of offence, those blind and sickly bloodeaters,

'Neath lens and daylight, forcing their foul propagations,

Which had ever prosper'd in dark impunity unguest,

Now to behave in sight, deliver their poisonous extract

And their strange self-brew'd, self-slaying juice to be handled,

Experimented upon, set aside and stor'd to oppose them.

So novel and obscure a research, such hard revelations

Of Nature's cabinet,--tho' with fact amply accordant,

And by hypothesis much dark difficulty resolving,

Are not quickly receiv'd nor approv'd, and sensitive idlers,

Venturing in the profound terrible penetralia of life, 291

Are shock'd by[v]a method that shuns not contamination

With crūel Nature's most secret processes unmaskt.

And yet in all mankind's disappointed history, now first

Have[v]his scouts push'd surely within[v]his foul enemies' lines,

And his sharpshooters descried their insidious foe,

Those swarming parasites, that barely within the detection

Of manifold search-light, have bred, swimming unsuspected

Thro' man's brain and limbs, slaying with loathly pollution

His beauty's children,[v]his sweet scīons of affection, 300

In fev'rous torment and tears, his home desolating

Of their fair innocence, breaking[v]his proud passionate heart,

And his kindly belief in GOD'S good justice arraigning.

With what wildly directed attack, what an armory illjudged,

Has he, (alas, poor man,) with what cumbrous machination

Sought to defend himself from their Lilliputian onslaught;

Aye discharging around him, in obscure night, at a venture,

Ev'ry missile which[v]his despair confus'dly imagin'd;

His simples, compounds, specifics, chemical therapeutics,

Juice of plants, whatever was nam'd in lordly Salerno's 310

Herbaries and gardens, vipers, snails, all animal filth,

Incredible quackeries, the pretentious jugglery of knaves,

Green electricities, saints' bones and priestly anointings.

Fools! that oppose his one scīentific intelligent hope!

Grant us an hundred years, and man shall hold in abeyance

These foul distempers, and with this world's benefactors

Shall PASTEUR obtain the reward of saintly devotion,

His crown hēroic, who fought not destiny in vain.

'Tis success that attracts: 'twas therefore so many workers

Ran pellmell to the schools of Nature in our generation, 320

While other employments have lack'd their genius and pined.

Our fathers' likings wē thought semibarbarous, our art

Self-consciously sickens in qualms of an æsthetic aura,

Noisily in the shallows splashing and disporting uninspir'd.

Our famed vulgarities whether in speech, taste or amusement,

Are not amended: Is it foolish, hoping for a rescue,

First to appeal to the strong, for health to the healthy amongst us?

--For the Sophists' doctrine that GRACE is dying of old age

I hold in derision, their inkpot thēories of man,

Of his cradle of art, his deathbed of algebra;--and see 330

How Scīence has wrought, since we went idling at Eton,

One thing above surmise:--An' if I may dare to remind you

How Vergil praises your lov'd Lucretius, (of whom

My matter and metre[v]have set you thinking, as I fear,)

In that glory which ends 'et inexorabile fatum

Subjecit pedibus strepitumque Acherontis avari':

Sounded not most empty to us such boast of a pagan,

Strangely to us tutor'd to believe, with faith mediæval,

Torture everlasting to be justly the portion of all souls,

Nor but by the elects' secret prēdestiny escaped? 340

If you think to reply,--making this question in answer,--

'Did the belief disturb for a moment our pleasure in life?'

No.--And men gather in harvest on slopes of an active

Volcano: natheless the terror's ēnormity was there;

Now 'tis away: Scīence has pierced man's cloudy common-sense,

Dow'rd his homely vision with more expansive an embrace,

And the rotten foundation of old superstition exposed.

That trouble of Pascal, those vain paradoxes of Austin,

Those Semitic parables of Paul, those tomes of Aquinas,

All are thrown to the limbo of antediluvian idols, 350

Only because we learn mankind's true history, and know

That not at all from a high perfection sinfully man fell,

But from baseness arose: We have with sympathy enter'd

Those dark caves, his joyless abodes, where with ravening brutes,

Bear or filthy hyena, he once disputed a shelter:--

That was his Paradise, his garden of Eden,--abandon'd

Ages since to the drift and drip, the cementing accretions

Whence we now separate his bones buried in the stalagma,

His household makeshifts, his hunting tools, his adornments,

From the scatter'd skeletons of a lost prehistoric order, 360

Its mammoth and woolly rhinoceros, the machairodos, and beasts

Whose unnamed pastures the immense Atlantic inundates.

In what corner of earth lie not dispersed the familiar

Flinty relics of his old primitive stone-cutlery? what child

Kens not now the design, the adapted structure of each one

Of those hand-labor'd chert-flakes, whether axe, chisel, or knife,

Spearhead, barb of arrow, rough plane or rudely serrate saw?

Stones that in our grandsires' time told no sermon, (awaiting

Indestructible, unnumber'd, on chary attention,)

From their prēadamite pulpits now cry Revelation. 370

Not to a Greek his chanted epic had mortal allurement,

Conjuring old-world fancies of Ilium and of Olympus,

As this story to me, this tale primæval of unsung,

Unwritten, ancestral fate and adversity, this siege

Of courage and happiness protracted so many thousand

Thousand years in a slow persistent victory of brain

And right hand o'er all the venom'd stings, sharpnesses of fang

And dread fury whate'er Nature, tirelessly devising,

Could develop with tooth, claw, tusk, or horn to oppose them.

See now Herakles, who strangled snakes when an infant 380

In[v]his cradle alone; and nought but those petty stonechips

For the battle: 'twas wonder above wonders his achievement:

Yea, and since he thought as a child 'twas natural in[v]him,

Meeting in existence with purposes antagonistic,

Circumstances oppos'd to desire, vast activities, which

Thwarted effort, to assume All-might as spiteful against him.

Nay, as an artist born, impell'd to devise a religion,--

So to relate himself idēally with the immortal,--

This quarrel of reason with what displeas'd his affections

Was not amiss. The desire and love of beauty possess man:

Art is of all that beauty the best outwardly presented; 391

Truth to the soul is merely the best that mind can imagine.

No lover ēternal will hold to an older opinion

If but lovelier ideas, with Nature agrēeing,

Are to his understanding offer'd.... But enough: 'tis an unsolv'd

Mystery.--Yet man dreams to flatter[v]his dēity saying

'Beautiful is Nature!' rather 'tis various, endless,

And her efforts fertile in error tho' grand in attainment.

If wé, while praising[v]her scheme and infinite order,

Are compell'd to select, our choice condemns the remainder;

Nor can wisdom honour those loathly polluting offences, 401

Whose very names to the Muse are either accursèd or unknown.

Nay, if such foul things thou deemest worthy, the fault was

Making us, O Nature, thy judge and tearful accuser.

Turn our thought for awhile to the symphonies of Beethoven,

Or the rever'd preludes of mighty Sebastian; Is there

One work of Nature's contrivance beautiful as these?

Judg'd by beauty alone man wins, as sensuous artist;

And for other qualities, the spirit's differentia, Nature

Scarce observes them at all: that keen unfaltering insight, 410

Whereby[v]earthly desire's roaming wildernesses are changed

Into a garden a-bloom; its wandering impossible ways

Into pillar'd avenues, alleys and fair-flow'ry terrac'd walks,

(Where GOD talks with man, as once 'twas fancied of Eden;)

That transcendental supreme interpreting of sense,

Rendering intelligence passionate with mystery, linking

Sympathy with grandeur, the reserve of dignity with play;

Those soul-formalities, the balance held 'twixt the denīal

And the betrayal of intention, whose masteries invite,

Entice, welcome ever, meet, and with kindliness embrace; 420

Those guarded floodgates of boundless, lovely resources,

Whence nothing ill issues, no distraction nor abortion

Hindering enjoyment, but in easy security flow forth

Ecstasies of fitness, raptures and harmonies of heav'n.

Surely before such work of man, so kindly attemper'd,

Nature must be asham'd, had shē not this ready answer,

'Fool, and who made thee?'--

I shall not seem a deserter,

Where in an idle essay my verse to a fancy abandon'd

Praiseth others: rather while art and beauty delight us,

While hope, faith and love are warm and lively in our hearts,

Sweet our earthly desire and dear our human affection, 431

We may, joyfully despising the pedantries of old age,

Hold to the time, nor lose the delight of mortal attainment;

Keenly rejoicing in all that wisdom approves, nor allowing

Ourselves at the challenge of younger craft to be outsailed;

But trimming our old canvas in all change of weather and wind,

Freely without fear urge o'erseas our good vessel onward,

Piloting into the far, unmapp'd futurity.--Farewell.

EPISTLE II

TO A SOCIALIST IN LONDON

No[v]ethical system, no contemplation or action,

No reason'd attitude of mind nor principle of faith,

Neither Sōcratical wisdom nor saintly devotion,

Buildeth a fortress against heart-ache & compassionate grief,

Nor responds to desire, nor with true mastery yieldeth

Easy repose to the mind; And since all our study endeth

Emptily in full doubt,--fathoming the divine intention

In this one thing alone, that, howsōe'er it affect us,

'Twas never intended for mortal fancy to compass,--

I[v]have concluded that from first purposes unknown 10

None should seek to deduce idēal laws to be liv'd by;

And, loving art, am true to the Muse, & pōetry extol:

Therefore 'twas that afore I prais'd & heartily enjoy'd

Your human verses, FRASER, when nobody bought them,

More than again I praise those serious exhortations,

Wherewith you wu'd amend the degraded people about you.

Nay tho' like a prophet with heav'n-sent dignity inspir'd,

With ready convincement and stern example assuring,

Mightily you proclaim your love-messag' in the assembly,

Exhibiting panacēas of ancient ill, propagating 20

Out of a Scotch cerebrum the reforming zeal of a TOLSTOI,

I listen all unmov'd, as a sceptic among the believers.

Yet what a charm has an earnest soul, whom sympathy uncheckt

For human suffering has strengthen'd and dedicated

Bravely to serve his kind, to renounce his natural instinct,

And liv' apart, indulging in acts of mercy, delighted

In wisdom's rock-hewn citadel[v]her law to illustrate,

Embodying the pattern of self-integrity complete.

Yea, what a charm pervades discourse, that loftily reason'd

Points the narrow pathway throu' this world's ugly disorder;

How very fair will appear any gate of cleanliness, open 30

From the city's tumult, its rank impurity, its dread

Vulgarity's triumph: Nay sure & bounteous as Truth,

Beautiful in confusion appeareth Simplicity's way.

--'Simple it is, (yóu say) God is good,--Nature is ample,--

'Earth yields plenty for all,--and all might share in abundance,

'Were profit and labour but fairly divided among them.

'Scarce any laws are needed in our Utopia but these,--

'No fruitless labour to provide mere useless adornment,

'No money encouraging man's sloth & slavery, no rents 40

'Of titeld landlords, no pamper'd luxury breeding

'Fleshly disease, worst fiend & foe of mind body and soul;

'All should work, and only produce life's only requirements:

'So with days all halfholidays, toil healthfully enjoy'd,

'Each might, throu' leisure hours of amusement pīety and peace,

'In the domestic joys & holy community partake.--'

--This wer' a downleveling, my friend; yoū need, to assure me,

Fix a limit to the folk; else, as their number is increas't,

Their happiness may dwindle away, & what was at outset

Goal & prize, the provoker of all your wise revolution, 50

Will by subdivision disappear in course of atainment.

When goods are[v]increas'd, mouths are[v]increas'd to devour them:

If the famine be reliev'd this season in India, next dearth

Will be a worse. Yoū know how one day Herschel acosted

Súch a philanthropical Save-all, who claimed to acomplish

Some greatest happiness for a greatest number; 'Attend, man;

(Saíd-he) Resólve me anon one query: Suppose Adam and Eve

First crēated on Earth but twice ten centuries ere Christ,

That they gat four children in all, who liv'd, getting also

Four to the pair: Had thus mankind ever equaly increast 60

By moderate families but doubling in each generation,

How many souls would now be alive to revise the conundrum

Of greatest happiness? No[v]answer? Well, 'tis a long sum.

Say if on earth such a crowd could stand. No? Pray then imágine

All earth's land as a plain, & all this company thereon,

Piled together like peas in a pintpot: How many layers?

No guess? Then how high the column? How far wu'd it extend

Into the sky?--To the moon?--Further--To the sun?--To the sun! Pshaw!

That column of happy men would reach up, as I fathom its height,

Million dīameters of Neptune's infinit' orbit.' 70

My[v]objection annoys your kindly philanthropy?--'It proves

'Too much.'--Yes nature shows in that scrutiny bankrupt;

Mere matter in deposit gives out. Yóu wish to determine

No limit of future polities: your actual object

Is to relieve suffering, to repeal injustice acruing

From monied inheritance, which makes a nonentity potent

For public mischief, who might, if usefully harness'd

In common employment, have assisted social order.

Why should Law give fifty talents where Nature alloys one?

For money is the talent of supreme empery: Gold, Gold 80

Envieth all, getteth all, absorbeth, mastereth all things:

It pusheth out & thrusteth away pitilessly the weak ones,

Those ill-fated, opprest, unfortun'd needy: Beneath them

Yawns the abyss. Down down they fall, as a stream on a mountain,

With ceaseless cataract. None hearkeneth; only the silent

Grave, that darkly devours their cry of desperate anguish.

Spáre me the story; believe more feel this grief than avow it:

'Tis put aside from thought with death's incurable evil;

Left for them, that assume mankind as cause, to lament it.

And what if all Nature ratify this merciless outrage? 90

If her wonder of arch-wonders, her fair animal life,

Her generate creatures, her motion'd warmblooded offspring,

Haunters of the forest & royal country, her antler'd

Mild-gazers, that keep silvan sabbath idly without end;

Her herded galopers, sleeksided stately careerers

Of trembling nostril; her coy unapproachable estrays,

Stealthy treaders, climbers; her leapers furry, lissom-limb'd;

Her timorous burrowers, and grangers thrifty, the sandy

Playmates of the warren; her clumsy-footed, shaggy roamers;

Her soarers, the feather'd fast-fliers, loftily floating 100

Sky-sailers, exiles of high solitudinous eyries;

Her perching carolers, twitterers, & sweetly singing birds;

All ocean's finny clans, mute-mouthers, watery breathers,

Furtive arrow-darters, and fan-tail'd easy balancers,

Silvery-scale, gilt-head, thorn-back, frill'd harlequinading

Globe and slimy ribbon: Shell-builders of many-chamber'd

Pearly dwellings, soft shapes mosslike or starry, adorning

With rich floral fancy the gay rock-garden of ebb-tide:

All life, from the massive-bulkt, ivory-tusht, elephantine

Centēnarian, acknowledging with crouching obeisance 110

Man's will, ev'n to the least petty whiffling ephemeral insect,

Which in a hot sunbeam engend'ring, when summer is high,

Vaunteth an hour his speck of tinsely gaudiness and dies:

Ah! what if all & each of Nature's favorite offspring,

'Mong many distinctions, have this portentous agreement,

MOUTH, STOMACH, INTESTINE? Question that brute apparatus,

So manifoldly devis'd, set alert with furious instinct:

What doth it interpret but this, that LIFE LIVETH ON LIFE?

That the select creatures, who[v]inherit earth's domination,

Whose happy existence is Nature's intelligent smile, 120

Are bloody survivors of a mortal combat, a-tweenwhiles

Chanting a brief pæan for victory on the battlefield?

Since that of all their kinds most owe their prosperous estate

Unto the art, whereby they more successfully destroy'd

Their weaker brethren, more insatiably devour'd them;

And all fine qualities, their forms pictorial, admired,

Their symmetries, their grace, & beauty, the loveliness of them,

Were by Murder evolv'd, to 'scape from it or to effect it.

'Surely again (yoū say) too much is proven, it argues

'Mere horror & despair; unless persuasion avail us 130

'That the moral virtues are man's idēa, awaken'd

'By the spirit's motions; & therefore not to be conceiv'd

'In Nature's outward & mainly material aspect,

'As that is understood. You, since you hold that opinion,

'Run your own ship aground invoking Nature against me.'--

Then withdraw the appeal, my friend, to her active alīance;

Bē pessimist Nature with a pitchfork manfully expell'd,

Not to return. Yet _soul in hand_, with brutal alegiance,

Hunters & warriors _do not forget the comandment_.

See how lively the old animal continueth in them: 140

Of what trifling account they hold life, yet what a practis'd

Art pursue to preserve it: if I should rightly define sport

SLAUGHTER WITH DANGER, what were more serious and brave?

Their love of air, of strength, of wildness, afford us an inkling

Of the delight of beasts, with whom they might innocently

Boast a fellow-feeling, summoning them forth to the combat.

Nay dream not so quickly to see her ladyship expell'd.

Those prowling Līons of stony Kabylia, whose roar

Frights from sleep the huddled herdsmen, soon as the sudden night

Falls on Mount Atlas, those grave uxorious outlaws 150

Wandering in the Somali desert or waste Kalahari,

Sound a challenge that amid summer-idling London is answer'd

Haply in Old Bond Street, where some fashionably attired youth

Daintily stands poising the weapon foredoom'd to appay them:

Or[v]he mentally sighteth a tiger of India, that low

Crouches among the river jungles, or hunts desolating

Grassy Tarâi, 'neath lofty Himálya, or far southward

Outacamund, Mysore's residency, the Nilgherry mountains

By Malabar; yea, and ere-long shall sight him in earnest,

Stalked as a deer, surprised where hē lay slumbering at noon

Under a rock full-gorged, or deep in reedy covert hid 160

By the trackers disturbed: Two grand eyes shall for a moment

Glare upon either side the muzzle. Woe then to the hunter,

If hē blench! That fury beclouded in invisible speed

What marksman could arrest? what mortal abide his arrachement?

Standing above the immense carcase hē gratefully praiseth

God for a man-eater so fine, so worthy the slaying.

See him again; 'tis war: one hill-rock strongly defended

Checks advance, to be stormed at cost of half the assailants.

Gaily away they go, Highlanders, English, or Irish, 170

Or swart Ghoorkas against the leaden hail, climbing, ascending,

Lost in a smoke, scattering, creeping, here there, ever upwards:

Till some change cometh o'er confusion. Who winneth? ah! see!

Ours have arrived, and he who led their bravery is there.

None that heard will ever forget that far-echoing cheer:

Such heard Nelson, above the crashings & thundering of guns:

At Marathon 'twas heard and all time's story remembers.

See him again, when at home visiting[v]his episcopal uncle:

That good priest contrast with this good captain, assay them:

Find a common-measure equating their rival emotions; 180

Ēvaporate the rubbish, the degrading pestiferous fuss

Of stuck-up importance, the palatial coterie, weigh out

Then the solids: whose life would claim the award of an umpire

For greatest happiness? High-priest or soldier? Adjudge it

By their books: Let a child give sentence. Ev'n as a magnet

Turns and points to the north, so children's obstinate insight

Flies to the tale of war, hairbreadth scapes, daring achievements,

Discoveries, conquests, the romance of history: these things

Win them away from play to devour with greedy attention

Till they long to be men; while all that clerkly palaver 190

Tastes like wormwood.--'Avast! (I hear yoū calling) Avast there!

I forbid the appeal.'--Well, style my humour atrocious;

Granted a child cannot understand; yet see what a huge growth

Stands to be extermin'd, ere you can set dibble in ground.

Nay, more yet; that mighty forest, whose wildness offends you,

And silences appal, where earth-life self-suffocating

Seethes, lavish as sun-life in a red star's fi'ry corona;

That waste magnificence, and vain fecundity, breeding

Gīants & parasites embrac'd in flowery tangle,

Interwoven alive and dead, where one tyrannous tree 200

Blights desolating around it a swamp of rank vegetation;

Where Reason yet dreams unawakt, & throu' the solemn day

Only the monkey chatters, & discordant the parrot screams:

All this is in man's heart with dateless sympathy worshipt,

With filial reverence, & awful pīeties involv'd;

While that other picture, your formal fancy, the garden

Of your stingy promise, must that not quench his imágin'd

Idēals of beauty, his angel hope of attainment?

What to him are the level'd borders, the symmetric allotments,

Where nothing exceedeth, nothing encroacheth, nor assaileth;

Where Reason now drudgeth a sad monomaniac, all day 211

Watering & weeding, digging & diligently manuring

Her label'd families, starch-makers, nitrogen-extract-

Purveyors, classified potherbs & empty pretenders

Of medical virtues; nay ev'n and _their_ little impulse

T'ward liberal fruiting disallow'd by stern regulation;

So many beans to a pod, with so many pods to a beanstalk;

Prun'd, pincht, economiz'd miserly til' all is abortion,

Save in such specimens as, but for an extravagant care,

Had miserably perish'd. What madness works to delude you, 220

Bēing a man, that yoū see not mankind's predilection

Is for Magnificence, Force, Freedom, Bounty; his inborn

Love for Beauty, his aim to possess, his pride to devise it:

And from everlasting his heart is fixt with affections

Prēengag'd to a few sovranly determinate objects,

Toys of an ēternal distraction. Beautiful is GOLD,

Clear as a trumpet-call, stirring where'er it appeareth

All high pow'rs to battle; with mágisterial ardour

Glowing among the metals, elemental drops of a fire-god's

Life-blood of old outpour'd in Chāos: Mágical also 230

EV'RY recondite j[=ew]el of Earth, with their seraphim-names,

RUBY, JACYNTH, EMERALD, AMETHYST, SAPPHIRE; amaranthine

Starry essences, elect emblems of purity, heirlooms

Of deathless glories, most like to divine imanences.

Then that heart-gladdening highpriz'd ambrosia, blending

Their dissolute purples & golds with sparkling aroma,

That ruddy juice exprest from favour'd vintages, infus'd

With cosmic laughter, when upon some sécular epact

Blandly the sun's old heart is stirr'd to a septennial smile,

Causing strangefortun'd comfort to melancholy mortals: 240

Friend to the flésh, if mind be fatigued; rallying to the sound mind,

When succour is needed 'gainst fainting weariness of flesh;

Shall Wine not be belov'd? Or now let Aristotle answer

What goods are,--Time leaves the scholar's inventory unchang'd;--

All Virtues & Pow'rs, Honour & Pleasure, all that in our life

Makes us self-sufficient, Friends, Riches, Comeliness, and Strength;

They that[v]have these things in plenty desire to retain them,

And win more; while they that lack are pleas'd to desire them.

Nay and since possession will leave the desire unappeasèd,

Save in mere appetites that vary with our physical state, 250

Surely delight in goods is an ecstasy rather attendant

On their mental image, than on experienc'd operation.

So the shepherd envies the monarch, the monarch the shepherd's lot,--

'O what a life were this, How sweet, how lovely!' the king cries.

Whence, I say, as a man feels brave who reads of ACHILLES;

One looking on riches may learn some kindred elation,

And whatever notions of fortune, luxury, comfort,

Genius or virtue, are shown to him, only as aspects

Of possible bēing, 'tis so much gain to desire them;

Learning Magnificence in mean obscurity, tasting 260

Something of all those goods which Fate outwardly denies him.

But say none shall again be king or prosperous or great,--

Arguing 'all eminence is unequal, unequal is unjust',--

Should that once come about, then alas for this merry England,

Sunk in a grey monotone of drudgery, dreamily poring

O'er her illumin'd page of history, faln to regretful

Worship of ancestors, with nought now left to delight her,

Nought to attain, save one nurst hope, one ambition only

Red Revolution, a wild Reawakening, & a Renaissance.

Impatiently enough yoū hear me, longing to refute me, 270

While I[v]in privileg'd pulpit my period expand.

Who could allow such a list of strange miscellaneous items,

So-call'd goods, Strength, Ríches, Honour, Gold, Genius, and Wine?

Is not Wisdom above Rubies? more than Coral or Pearl?

Yours is a scheme deep-laid on true distinctive asortment,

Parting use or good from useless or evil asunder;

Dismissing accessories, while half my heathenish invoice

Are Vanity's vanities. Well; truly, as old SOLOMON said,

So they _be_: What is excepted? What scapes his araignment?

Is't Pleasure or Wisdom? Nay ask THEOLOGIA: Good-works, 280

Saith-she, offend her nostril. If I distinguish, asserting,

Say, that if I[v]enjoyed my neighbour's excessive income

I would hire me a string-quartett not an automaton car,

You blame equally both our tastes for luxury, indeed

His shows more of a use. If man's propensity is vain,

Vulgar, inane, unworthy; 'tis also vain to bewail it:

Think you to change his skin? 'Twere scale by scale to regraft it

With purer traditions; and who shall amend the amenders?

Nay let bé the bubbles, till man grow more solid in mind,

Condemn not the follies: My neighbour's foolery were worse,

Sat he agape listening to Mozart, intently desiring 291

All that time to be rattling alóng on a furious engine

In caoutchouc carapace, with a trail of damnable oilstench.

Yea, blame not the pleasures; they are not enough; pleasure only

Makes this life liveable: nor scout that doctrine as unsound:

Consider if mankind from puling birth to bitter death

Knew nought but the sorrows, endured unrespited always

Those agonizing assaults which no flesh wholly can escape;

Were his hunger a pang like his starvation, alievement

Thereof a worse torture, like that which full many die with;

Did love burn his soul as fire his skin; did affections 300

Rend his will, as Turks rend men with horses asunder;

Were his labour a breathless effort; his slumber occasion

For visiting Furies to repair his temple of anguish;

Were thoughts all mockeries; slow intelligence a deception;

His mind's far ventures, her voyages into the unseen

But horror & terrified nightmare; None then had ever heard

Praise of a Crēator, nor seen any Dēity worshipped.

'Twas for heav'nly Pleasure that God did first fashion all thing,

Nor with other benefit would holy Religion attract us 310

Picturing of Paradise. Consult our Lady's Evangel,

Where Saint Luke,--colouring (was it unconsciously, suppose you?)

Fact and fable alike,--contrasts a beggar with a rich man,

And from holding a fool's happiness too greatly in esteem

Makes pleasure ēternal the balance of temporal evil,

And the reverse; nor shrinks, ascribing thus to the next world

Vaster inequalities, harsher perversity than this.

_You_ have a soul's paradise, its entry the loop of a needle,

Come hither & prithy tell me what I must do to be savèd

I, that feeding on Idēals in temperat' estate 320

Seem so wealthy to poor Lazarus, so needy to Dives:

What from my heav'n-bound schooner's dispensable outfit

Has to be cast o'erboard? What see yoū here that offends you?

These myriad volumes, these tons of music:--allow them

Or disallow? Fiddle and trichord?--Must all be relinquished?

Such toys have not a place in your socīety; you say

Nobody shall make them, nor made may justly acquire them.

Yet, should a plea be alleged for life's most gracious adornment,

For contemplative art's last transcendental achievement,

Grief's almighty solace, frolicking Mirth's Purification, 330

For Man's unparagon'd High-pōetess, inseparate Muse

Companion, the belov'd most dearly among her sisters,

Revivifīer of age, fairest instructor of all grace,

His peacemaker alert with varied sympathy, whose speech

Not to arede and love is wholly to miss the celestial

Consolatries, the divine interpreting of physical life,--

Yoū wince? make exception? allow things musical? admit

So many faked viols, penny trumpets, and amateurish

Performers? Nay, nay! stand firm, for concession is vain.

Music is outmeasurably a barefaced luxury, her plea 340

Will cover art, (--almost to atone art's vile imitations--);

My Japanese paintings, my fair blue Cheney, Hellenic

Statues and Caroline silver, my beautiful Aldines,

Prized more highly because so few, so fondly familiar,

Need no tongue to defend them against rude hands, that assail them

Only because their name is RARITY; hands insensate,

Rending away pitilessly the fair embroideries of life,

That close-clust'ring man, his comfort pared to the outskirts

Of[v]his discomfort, may share in meanness unenvied

But what if I[v]unveil the figure that closely beside you 350

Half hides his Hell-charred skeleton with mysteries obscene,

That foul one, that Moloch of all Utopias, ancient

Poisoner & destroyer-elect of innumerous unborn?

Know you the story of our hive-bees, the yellow honey-makers,

Whose images from of old have haunted Pōetry, settling

On the blossoms of man's dream-garden, as on the summer-flow'rs,

Pictures of happy toil, sunny glances, gendering always

Such sweet thoughts, as be by slumbrous music awaken'd?

How all their outward happiness,--that fairy demeanour

Of busy contentment, singing at their work,--is an inborn 360

Empty habit, the relics of a time when considerate joy

Truly possest their tiny bodies; when golden abundance

Was not a State-kept hoard; when feasts were plentiful indulg'd

With wine well-fermented, or old-stored spicy metheglin:

For they died not then miserably within the second moon

Forgotten, unrespected of all; but slept many winters,

Saw many springs, liv'd, lov'd like men, consciously rejoicing

In Nature's promises, with like hopes and recollections.

Intelligence had brought them Scīence, Genius enter'd;

Seers and sages arose, great Bees, perfecting among them 370

Copious inventions, with man's art worthily compared.

Then was a time when that, which haps not in ages of ages,

Strangely befel: they stole from Nature's secresy one key,

Found the hidden motive which works to varīety of kind;

And thus came wondrously possest of pow'r to determine

Their children's qualities, habitudes, yea their specialized form

Masculine or feminine to produce, or asexual offspring

Redow'rd and differenced with such alternative organs

As they chose, to whate'er preferential function adapted,

Wax-pocket or honey-bag, with an instinct rightly acordant.

We know well the result, but not what causes effected 381

Their decision to prefer so blindly the race to the unit,

As to renounce happiness for a problem, a vain abstraction;

Making home and kingdom a vast egg-factory, wherein

Food and life are stor'd up alike, and strictly proportion'd

In loveless labour with mean anxīety. Wondrous

Their reason'd motive, their altrūistic obedience

Unto a self-impos'd life-sentence of prison or toil.

Wonder wisely! then ask if these ingenious insects,

(Who made Natur' against her will their activ' acomplice,

And, methodizing anew her heartless system, averted 391

From their house the torrent of whelming natural increase,)

Are blood-guiltless among their own-born prógeny: What skill

Keeps their peace, or what price buys it? Alack! 'tis murder,

Murder again. No worst Oriental despot, assuring

'Gainst birthright or faction or envy his ill-gotten empire,

So decimates his kin, as do these rown-bodied egg-queens

Surprise competitors, and stab their slumbering infants,

Into the wax-cradles replunging their double-edged stings.

Or what a deed of blood some high-day, when the summer[v]hath 400

Their clammy cells o'erbrim'd, and already ripening orchards

And late flow'rs proclaim that starving winter approacheth,

Nor will again any queen lead forth her swarm, dispeopling

Their strawbuilt citadel; then watch how these busy workers

Cease for awhile from toil; how crowding upon the devoted

Drones they fall; those easy fellows gave some provocation;

Yet 'tis a foul massacre, cold murder of unsuspecting

Life-long companions; and done bloodthirstily:--is not

Exercise of pow'r a delight? have yóu not a doctrine

That calls duty pleasure? What an if they make merry, saying

'Lazy-livers, runagates, evil beasts, greedy devourers, 411

'Too happy and too long ye've liv'd, unashamed to have outliv'd

'Your breeders, feeders, warmers and toiling attendants;

'Had-ye ever been worthy a public good to accomplish,

'Each had nobly perish'd long-ago. Unneeded, obese ones,

'Impious encumbrance, whose hope of service is over,

'Who did not, now can not, assist the community, YE DIE!'

My parable may serve. What wisdom man hath attain'd to

Came to him of Nature's goodwill throu' tardy selection:

Should her teaching accuse herself and her method impugn,

I may share with her the reproach of approving as artist 421

Far other idēals than what seem needful in action.

This difficulty besets our time. If you have an answer,

Write me it, as you keep your salt in savour; or if toil

Grant you an indulgence, here lies fair country, direct then

Your Sabbath excursion westward, and spend a summer-day

Preaching among the lilies what you[v]have preached to the chimneys.

PEACE ODE

ON CONCLUSION OF THE BOER WAR, JUNE 1902

Now joy in all hearts with happy auguries,

And praise on all lips: for sunny June cometh

Chasing the thick warcloud, that outspread

Sulfurous and sullen over England.

Full thirty moons since unwilling enmity,

Since daily suspense for hideous peril

Of brethren unrescued, beleaguer'd

Plague-stricken in cities unprovided,

Had quencht accustom'd gaiety, from the day

When first the Dutchman's implacable folly,

The country of Shakspeare def[=y]ing,

Thought with a curse to appal the nation:

Whose threat to quell their kinsmen in Africa

Anger'd awhile our easy democracy;

That, reckless and patient of insult,

Will not abide arrogant defīance:

They called to arms; and war began evilly.

From slily forestor'd, well-hidden armouries,

And early advantage, the despot

Stood for a time prevalent against us:

Till from the coil of slow-gathering battle

He rancorous, with full moneybags hurried,

Peddling to European envy

His traffic of pennyworthy slander.

For since the first keel launch'd upon Ocean

Ne'er had before so mighty an armament

O'errun the realm of dark Poseidon,

So resolutely measur'd the waters,

As soon from our ports in diligent passage

O'er half the round world plow'd hither & thither

The pathless Atlantic, revengeful

Soldiery pouring on Esperanza:

Nor shows the Argive story of Ilium,

With tale of ancient auxiliar cities,

So vast a roll of wide alliance

As, rallying to the aid of England,

Came from the swarming counties accoutering,

And misty highlands of Caledonia,

With Cambria's half-Celtic offspring,

And the ever-merry fighting Irish:

Came too the new world's hardy Canadians,

And from remote Australia champions

Like huntsmen, and from those twin islands

Lying off antipodal beyond her,

Under the old flag sailing across the sea:

For mighty is blood's empery, where honour

And freedom ancestral have upbuilt

Inheritance to a lovely glory.

Thee, France, love I, fair lawgiver and scholar:

Thy lively grace, thy temper illustrious;

And thee, in all wisdom Diviner,

Germany, deep melodist immortal;

Nor less have envied soft Italy's spirit,

In marble unveil'd and eloquent colour:

But best love I England, wer' I not

Born to her aery should envy also.

Wherefore to-day one gift above every gift

Let us beseech, that God will accord to her

Always a right judgement in all things;

Ev'n to celestial excellencies;

And grant us in long peace to accumulate

Joy, and to stablish friendliness and commerce,

And barter in markets for unpriced

Beauty, the pearl of unending empire.

_May, 1902._

EVENING

FROM WM. BLAKE[A]

Come, rosy angel, thy coronet donning

Of starry j[=ew]els, smile upon ev'ry bed,

And grant what each day-weary mortal,

Labourer or lover, asketh of thee.

Smile thou on our loves, enveloping the land

With dusky curtain: consider each blossom

That timely upcloseth, that opens

Her treasure of heavy-laden odours.

Now, while the west-wind slumbereth on the lake,

Silently dost thou with delicate shimmer

O'erbloom the frowning front of awful

Night to a glance of unearthly silver.

No hungry wild beast rangeth in our forest,

No tiger or wolf prowleth around the fold:

Keep thou from our sheepcotes the tainting

Invisible peril of the darkness.

POVRE AME AMOUREUSE

FROM LOUISE LABE, 1555

(_Sapphics_)

When to my lone soft bed at eve returning

Sweet desir'd sleep already stealeth o'er me,

My spirit flīeth to the fairy-land of

her tyrannous love.

Him then I think fondly to kiss, to hold him

Frankly then to my bosom; I that all day

Have lookèd for[v]him suffering, repining,

yea many long days.

O blessèd sleep, with flatteries beguile me;

So,[v]if I ne'er may[v]of a surety have[v]him,

Grant to my poor soul amorous the dark gift

of this illusion.

THE FOURTH DIMENSION

(_Hendecasyllables_)

Truest-hearted of early friends, that Eton

Long since gáve to me,--Ah! 'tis all a life-time,--

With my faithfully festive auspication

Of Christmas merriment, this idle item.

Plato truly believ'd his archetypal

Idēas to possess the fourth dimension:

For since our solid is triple, but always

Its shade only double, solids as _umbrae_

Must lack equally one dimension also.

Could Plato[v]have avoided or denied it?

So Saint Paul, when in argument opposing

To our earthly bodies bodies celestial,

Meant just those pretty Greek aforesaid abstracts

Of four Plātonical divine dimensions.

If this be not a holy consolation

More than plumpudding and a turkey roasted,

Whereto you but address a third dimension,

Try it, pray, as a pill to aid digestion:

I can't find anything better to send you.

JOHANNES MILTON, Senex

_Scazons_

Since I believe in God the Father Almighty,

Man's Maker and Judge, Overruler of Fortune,

'Twere strange should I praise anything and refuse Him praise,

Should love the creature forgetting the Crēator,

Nor unto Him[v]in suff'ring and sorrow turn me:

Nay how coud I withdraw me from[v]His embracing?

But since that I have seen not, and cannot know Him,

Nor in my earthly temple apprehend rightly

His wisdom and the heav'nly purpose ēternal;

Therefore will I be bound to no studied system

Nor argument, nor with delusion enslave me,

Nor seek to pléase Him in any foolish invention,

Which my spirit within me, that loveth beauty

And hateth evil, hath reprov'd as unworthy:

But I cherish my freedom in loving service,

Gratefully adoring for delight beyond asking

Or thinking, and in hours of anguish and darkness

Confiding always on[v]His excellent greatness.

PYTHAGORAS

_Seasons_

Thou vainly, O Man, self-deceiver, exaltest

Thyself the king and only thinker of this world,

Where life aboundeth infinite to destroy thee.

Well-guided are thy forces and govern'd bravely,

But like a tyrant crūel or savage monster

Thou disregardest ignorantly all bēing

Save only thine own insubordinate ruling:

As if the flowër held not a happy pact with Spring;

As if the brutes lack'd reason and sorrow's torment;

Or ev'n divine love from the small atoms grew not,

Their grave affection unto thy passion mingling.

* * *

An truly were it nobler and better wisdom

To fear the blind thing blindly, lest it espy thee;

And scrupulously do[v]honour to dumb creatures,

No one offending impiously, nor forcing

To service of vile uses; ordering rather

Thy slave to beauty, compelling lovingkindness.

So should desire, the only priestess of Nature

Divinely inspir'd, like a good monarch rule thee,

And lead thee onward in the consummate motion

Of life eternal unto heav'nly perfection.

_Elegiacs_

AMIEL

Why, O Maker of all, madest thou man with affections

Tender above thyself, scrupulous and passionate?

Nay, if compassionate thou art, why, thou lover of men,

Hidest thou thy face so pitilessly from us?

If thou in priesthoods and altar-glory delitest,

In torment and tears of trouble and suffering,

Then wert thou displeas'd looking on soft human emotion,

Thou must scorn the devout love of a sire to a son.

'Twas but vainly of old, Man, making Faith to approach thee,

Held an imagin'd scheme of providence in honour;

And, to redeem thy praise, judg'd himself cause, took upon him

Humbly the impossible burden of all misery.

Now casteth he away his books and logical idols

Leaveth again his cell of terrified penitence;

And that stony goddess, his first-born fancy, dethroning,

Hath made after his own homelier art another;

Made sweet Hope, the modest unportion'd daughter of anguish,

Whose brimming eye sees but dimly what it looketh on;

Dreaming a day when fully, without curse or horrible cross,

Thou wilt deign to reveal her vision of happiness.

Ah, what a change! Thou, who didst emptily thy happiness seek

In pleasure, art finding thy pleasure in happiness.

Slave to the soul, whom thou heldest in slavery, art thou?

Thou, that wert but a vain idol, adored a goddess?

WALKING HOME

FROM THE CHINESE

Thousand threads of rain and fine white wreathing of air-mist

Hide from us earth's greenness, hide the enarching azure.

Yet will a breath of Spring homeward convoying attend us,

And the mellow flutings of passionate Philomel.

THE RUIN

FROM THE CHINESE

These grey stones have rung with mirth and lordly carousel;

Here proud kings mingled pōetry and ruddy wine.

All hath pass'd long ago; nought but this rūin abideth,

Sadly in eyeless trance gazing upon the river.

Wouldst thou know who here visiteth, dwelleth and singeth also,

Ask the swallows fl[=y]ing from sunny-wall'd Italy.

REVENANTS

FROM THE FRENCH

At dead of unseen night ghosts of the departed assembling

Flit to the graves, where each in body had burial.

Ah, then rēvisiting my sad heart their desolate tomb

Troop the desires and loves vainly buried long ago.

FROM THE GREEK

Mortal though I bé, yea ephemeral, if but a moment

I gaze up to the night's starry domain of heaven,

Then no longer on earth I stand; I touch the Creator,

And my lively spirit drinketh immortality.

ANNIVERSARY

See, Love, a year is pass'd: in harvest our summer endeth:

Praising thee the solemn festival I celebrate.

Unto us all our days are love's anniversaries, each one

In turn hath ripen'd something of our happiness.

So, lest heart-contented adown life easily floating,

We note not the passage while living in the delight,

I have honour'd always the attentive vigil of Autumn,

And thy day set apart holy to fair Memory.

COMMUNION OF SAINTS

FROM ANDRE CHENIER

What happy bonds together unite you, ye living and dead,

Your fadeless love-bloom, your manifold memories.

EPITAPHS

Fight well, my comrades, and prove your bravery. Me too

God call'd out, but crown'd early before the battle.

I died in very flow'r: yet call me not unhappy therefore,

Ye that against sweet life once a lament have utter'd.

When thou, my belovèd, diedst, I saw heaven open,

And all earthly delight inhabiting Paradise.

Where thou art better I too were, dearest, anywhere, than

Wanting thy well-lov'd lovely presence anywhere.

IBANT OBSCURI

_A line for line paraphrase of a part of

Virgil's Æneid, Bk. VI._

They wer' amid the shadows by night in loneliness obscure

Walking forth i' the void and vasty dominyon of Ades;

As by an uncertain moonray secretly illumin'd 270

One goeth in the forest, when heav'n is gloomily clouded,

And black night hath robb'd the colours and beauty from all things.

Here in Hell's very jaws, the threshold of darkening Orcus,

Have the avenging Cares laid their sleepless habitation,

Wailing Grief, pallid Infections, & heart-stricken Old-age,

Dismal Fear, unholy Famine, with low-groveling Want,

Forms of spectral horror, gaunt Toil and Death the devourer,

And Death's drowsy brother, Torpor; with whom, an inane rout, 278

All the Pleasures of Sin; there also the Furies in ambusht

Chamber of iron, afore whose bars wild War bloodyhanded

Raged, and mad Discord high brandisht her venomous locks.

Midway of all this tract, with secular arms an immense elm

Reareth a crowd of branches, aneath whose leafy protection

Vain dreams thickly nestle, clinging unto the foliage on high:

And many strange creatures of monstrous form and features

Stable about th' entrance, Centaur and Scylla's abortion,

And hundred-handed Briareus, and Lerna the wildbeast

Roaring amain, and clothed in frightful flame the Chimæra,

Gorgons and Harpies, ['] and Pluto's three-bodied ogre.

In terror Æneas upheld his sword to defend him, 290

With ready naked point confronting their dreaded onset:

And had not the Sibyl warn'd how these lively spirits were

All incorporeal, flitting in thin maskery of form,

He had assail'd their host, and wounded vainly the void air.

Hence is a road that led them a-down to the Tartarean streams,

Where Acheron's whirlpool impetuous, into the reeky

Deep of Cokytos disgorgeth, with muddy burden.

These floods one ferryman serveth, most awful of aspect,

Of squalor infernal, Chāron: all filthily unkempt

That woolly white cheek-fleece, and fiery the blood-shotten eyeballs: 300

On one shoulder a cloak knotted-up his nudity vaunteth.

He himself plieth oar or pole, manageth tiller and sheet,

And the relics of mén in his ash-grey barge ferries over;

Already old, but green to a god and hearty will age be.

Now hitherward to the bank much folk were crowding, a medley

Of men and matrons; nor did death's injury conceal

Bravespirited heroes, young maidens beauteous unwed,

And boys borne to the grave in sight of their sorrowing sires.

Countless as in the forest, at a first white frosting of autumn

Sere leaves fall to the ground; or like whenas over the ocean

Myr[^ia]d birds come thickly flocking, when wintry December 311

Drives them afar southward for shelter upon sunnier shores,

So throng'd they; and each his watery journey demanded,

All to the further bank stretching-oút their arms impatient:

But the sullen boatman took now one now other at will,

While some from the river forbade he', an' drave to a distance.

Æneas in wonder alike and deep pity then spake.

'Tell-me,' said he, 'my guide, why flock these crowds to the water?

Or what seek the spirits? or by what prejudice are these

Rudely denied, while those may upon the solemn river embark?' 320

T'whom[B] then briefly again the Avern[^ia]n priestess in answer.

'O Son of Anchises, heavn's true-born glorious offspring,

Deep Cokytos it is thou s[^ee]st & Hell's Styg[^ia]n flood,

Whose dread sanct[^io]n alone Jove's oath from falsehood assureth.

These whom thou pitiedst, th' outcast and unburied are they;

That ferryman Chāron; those whom his bark carries over

Are the buried; nor ever may mortal across the livid lake

Journey, or e'er upon Earth his bones lie peacefully entomb'd:

Haunting a hundred years this mournful plain they wander

Doom'd for a term, which term expired they win to deliv'rance.' 330

Then he that harken'd stood agaze, his journey arrested,

Grieving at heart and much pitying their unmerited lot.

There miserably fellow'd in death's indignity saw he

Leucaspis with his old Lycian seachieften Orontes,

Whom together from Troy in home-coming over the waters

Wild weather o'ermaster'd, engulphing both shipping and men.

And lo! his helmsman, Palinurus, in eager emotion,

Who on th' Afric course, in bright star-light, with a fair wind,

Fell by slumber opprest unheedfully into the wide sea:

Whom i' the gloom when hardly he knew, now changed in affliction, 340

First he addrest. 'What God, tell-me O Palinurus, of all gods

Plúckt you away and drown'd i' the swift wake-water abandon'd?

For never erst nor in else hath kind responsive Apollo

Led-me astray, but alone in this thing wholly deluded,

When he aver'd that you, to remote Ausōnia steering,

Safe would arrive. Where now his truth? Is this the promis'd faith?'

But he, 'Neither again did Phœbus wrongly bespeak thee,

My general, nor yet did a god in his enmity drown me:

For the tiller, wherewith I led thy fleet's navigation,

And still clung to, was in my struggling hold of it unshipt, 350

And came with-me' o'erboard. Ah! then, by ev'ry accurst sea,

Tho' in utter despair, far less mine own peril awed me

Than my thought o' the ship, what harm might háp to her, yawing

In the billows helmless, with a high wind and threatening gale.

Two nights and one day buffeted held I to the good spar

Windborne, with the current far-drifting, an' on the second morn

Saw, when a great wave raised me aloft, the Italyan highlands;

And swimming-on with effort got ashore, nay already was saved,

Had not there the wrecking savages, who spied-me defenceless,

Scarce clinging outwearied to a rock, half-drowned & speechless, 360

Beát me to death for hope of an unfound booty upon me.

Now to the wind and tidewash a sport my poor body rolleth.

Wherefore thee, by heav'n's sweet light & airness, I pray,

By thy Sire's memories, thy hope of youthful Iulus,

Rescue-me from these ills, brave master; Go to Velija,

O'er my mortality's spoil cast thou th' all-hallowing dust;

Or better, if so be the goddess, heav'n's lady-Creatress,

Show-thee the way,--nor surely without high favoring impulse

Mak'st thou ventur' across these floods & black Ereban lake,--

Give thy hand-to-me', an' o'er their watery boundary bring me 370

Unto the haven of all, death's home of quiet abiding.'

Thus-he lamented, anon spake sternly the maid of Avernus.

'Whence can such unruly desire, Palinurus, assail thee?

Wilt thou th' Eumenidan waters visit unburied? o'erpass

Hell's Stygian barrier? Chāron's boat unbidden enter?

Cease to believe that fate can bé by prayër averted.

Let my sooth a litel thy cruel destiny comfort

Surely the people of all thy new-found country, determin'd

By heav'n-sent omens will achieve thy purification, 379

Build thee a tomb of honour with yearly solemnity ordain'd,

And dedicate for ever thy storied name to the headland.'

These words lighten awhile his fear, his sadness allaying,

Nor vain was the promise his name should eternally survive.

They forthwith their journey renew, tending to the water:

Whom when th' old boatman descried silently emerging

Out o' the leafy shadows, advancing t'ward the river-shore,

Angrily gave-he challenge, imperious in salutation.

'Whosoever thou be, that approachest my river all-arm'd,

Stand to announce thyself, nor further make footing onward.

Here 'tis a place of ghosts, of night & drowsy delusion: 390

Forbidden unto living mortals is my Stygian keel:

Truly not Alkides embarkt I cheerfully, nor took

Of Theseus or Pirithous glad custody, nay though

God-sprung were they both, warriors invincible in might:

Hé 'twas would sportively the guard of Tartarus enchain,

Yea and from the palace with gay contumely dragged him:

Théy to ravish Hell's Queen from Pluto's chamber attempted.'

Then thus th' Amphrysian prophetess spake briefly in answer.

'No such doughty designs are ours, Cease thou to be movèd!

Nor these sheeny weapons intend force. Cerberus unvext

Surely for us may affray the spirits with 'howling eternal, 401

And chaste Persephone enjoy her queenly seclusion.

Troian Æneas, bravest and gentlest-hearted,

Hath left earth to behold his father in out-lying Ades.

If the image ' of a so great virtue doth not affect thee,

Yet this bough'--glittering she reveal'd its golden avouchment--

'Thou mayst know.' Forthwith his bluster of heart was appeasèd:

Nor word gave-he, but admiring the celestial omen,

That bright sprigg of weird for so long period unseen,

Quickly he-túrneth about his boat, to the margin approaching, 410

And the spirits, that along the gun'al benchways sat in order,

Drave he ashore, offering readyroom: but when the vessel took

Ponderous Æneas, her timbers crankily straining

Creak'd, an' a brown water came trickling through the upper seams.

Natheless both Sibyl ánd Hero, slow wafted across stream,

Safe on th' ooze & slime's hideous desolation alighted.

Hence the triple-throated bellowings of Cerberus invade

All Hell, where opposite the arrival he lies in a vast den.

But the Sibyl, who mark'd his necklaces of stiffening snakes,

Cast him a cake, poppy-drench'd with drowsiness and honey-sweeten'd. 420

He, rabid and distending a-hungry' his triply-cavern'd jaws,

Gulp'd the proffer'd morsel; when slow he-relaxt his immense bulk,

And helplessly diffused fell out-sprawl'd over the whole cave.

Æneas fled by, and left full boldly the streamway,

That biddeth all men across but alloweth ne'er a returning.

Already now i' the air were voices heard, lamentation,

And shrilly crying of infant souls by th' entry of Ades.

Babes, whom unportion'd of sweet life, unblossoming buds,

One black day carried off and chokt in dusty corruption.--

Next are they who falsely accused were wrongfully condemn'd

Unto the death: but here their lot by justice is order'd. 431

Inquisitor Minos, with his urn, summoning to assembly

His silent council, their deed or slander arraigneth.--

Next the sullen-hearted, who rashly with else-innocent hand

Their own life did-away, for hate or weariness of light,

Imperiling their souls. How gladly, if only in Earth's air,

Would-they again their toil, discomfort, and pities endure!

Fate obstructs: deep sadness now, unloveliness awful

Rings them about, & Styx with ninefold circle enarmeth.--

Not far hence they come to a land extensive on all sides; 440

Weeping Plain 'tis call'd:--such name such country deserveth.

Here the lovers, whom fiery passion hath cruelly consumed,

Hide in leafy alleys ' and pathways bow'ry, sequester'd

By woodland myrtle, nor hath Death their sorrow ended.

Here was Phædra to see, Procris ' and sad Eriphyle,

She of her unfilial deathdoing wound not ashamèd,

Evadne, ' and Pasiphae ' and Laodamia,

And epicene Keneus, a woman to a man metamorphos'd,

Now by Fate converted again to her old feminine form.

'Mong these shades, her wound yet smarting ruefully, Dido

Wander'd throu' the forest-obscurity; and Æneas 451

Standing anigh knew surely the dim form, though i' the darkness

Veil'd,--as when one seëth a young moon on the horizon,

Or thinketh to' have seen i' the gloaming her delicate horn;

Tearfully in oncelov'd accents he-lovingly addrest her.

'Unhappy! ah! too true 'twas told me' O unhappy Dido,

Dead thou wert; to the fell extreme didst thy passion ensue.

And was it I that slew-thee? Alas! Smile falsity, ye heav'ns!

And Hell-fury attest-me', if here any sanctity reigneth,

Unwilling, O my Queen, my step thy kingdom abandon'd. 460

Me the command of a god, who here my journey determines

Through Ereban darkness, through fields sown with desolation,

Drave-me to wrong my heart. Nay tho' deep-pain'd to desert thee

I ne'er thought to provoke thy pain of mourning eternal.

Stay yet awhile, ev'n here unlook'd-for again look upon me:

Fly-me not ere the supreme words that Fate granteth us are said.'

Thus he: but the spirit was raging, fiercely defiant,

Whom he approach'd with words to appease, with tears for atonement.

She to the ground downcast her ' eyes in fixity averted;

Nor were her features more by his pleading affected, 470

Than wer' a face of flint, or of ensculptur'd alabaster.

At length she started disdainful, an' angrily withdrew

Into a shady thicket: where her grief kindly Sychæus

Sooth'd with other memories, first love and virginal embrace.

And ever Æneas, to remorse by deep pity soften'd,

With brimming eyes pursued her queenly figure disappearing.

Thence the Sibyl to the plain's extremest boundary led him,

Where world-fam'd warriors, a lionlike company, haunted.

Here great Tydeus saw he eclips'd, & here the benighted

Phantom of Adrastus, ' of stalwart Parthenopæus. 480

Here long mourn'd upon earth went all that prowess of Ilium

Fallen in arms; whom, when he-beheld them, so many and great,

Much he-bewail'd. By Thersilochus his mighty brothers stood,

Children of Antenor; here Demetr[^ia]n Polyphates,

And Idæus, in old chariot-pose dreamily stalking.

Right and left the spirits flocking on stood crowding around him;

Nor their eyes have enough; they touch, find joy unwonted

Marching in equal stép, and eager of his coming enquire.

But th' Argive leaders, and they that obey'd Agamemnon

When they saw that Trojan in arms come striding among them, 490

Old terror invaded their ranks: some fled stricken, as once

They to the ships had fled for shelter; others the alarm raise,

But their thin utterance mock'd vainly the lips wide parted.

Here too Deiphobus he espied, his fair body mangled,

Cruelly dismember'd, disfeatur'd cruelly his face,

Face and hands; and lo! shorn closely from either temple,

Gone wer' his ears, and maim'd each nostril in impious outrage.

Barely he-knew him again cow'ring shamefastly' an' hiding

His dire plight, & thus he 'his old companyon accosted.

'Noblest Deiphobus, great Teucer's intrepid offspring, 500

Who was it, inhuman, coveted so cruel a vengeance?

Who can hav' adventur'd on thée? That last terrible night

Thou wert said to hav' exceeded thy bravery, an' only

On thy faln enemies wert faln by weariness o'ercome.

Wherefor' upon the belov'd sea-shore thine empty sepulchral

Mound I erected, aloud on thy ghost tearfully calling.

Name and shield keep for-thee the place; but thy body, dear friend,

Found I not, to commit to the land ere sadly' I left it.'

Then the son of Priam ['] 'I thought not, friend, to reproach thee:

Thou didst all to the full, ev'n my shade's service, accomplish. 510

'Twas that uninterdicted adultress from Lacedæmon

Drave-me to doom, & planted in hell, her trophy triumphant.

On that night,--how vain a security and merrymaking

Then sullied us thou know'st, yea must too keenly remember,--

When the ill-omened horse o'erleapt Troy's lofty defences,

Dragg'd in amidst our town pregnant with a burden of arm'd men.

She then, her Phrygian women in feign'd phrenzy collecting,

All with torches aflame, in wild Bacchic orgy paraded,

Flaring a signal aloft to her ambusht confederate Greeks.

I from a world of care had fled with weariful eyelids 520

Unto my unhappy chamber', an' lay fast lockt in oblivyon,

Sunk to the depth of rest as a child that nought will awaken.

Meanwhile that paragon helpmate had robb'd me of all arms,

E'en from aneath the pillow my blade of trust purloining;--

Then to the gate; wide flíngs she it op'n an' calls Menelaus.

Would not a so great service attach her faithful adorer?

Might not it extinguish the repute of her earlier illdeeds?

Brief-be the tale. Menelaus arrives: in company there came

His crime-counsellor Æolides. So, and more also

Déal-ye', O Gods, to the Greeks! an' if I call justly upon you.-- 530

But thou; what fortune hitherward, in turn prithy tell me,

Sent-thee alive, whether erring upon the bewildering Ocean,

Or high-prompted of heav'n, or by Fate wearily hunted,

That to the sunless abodes and dusky demesnes thou approachest?'

Ev'n as awhile they thus converse it is already mid-day

Unperceiv'd, but aloft earth's star had turn'd to declining.

And haply' Æneas his time in parley had outgone,

Had not then the Sibyl with word of warning avized him.

'Night hieth, Æneas; in tears our journey delayeth.

See our road, that it here in twain disparteth asunder; 540

This to the right, skirting by th' high city-fortresses of Dis,

Endeth in Elysium, our path; but that to the leftward

Only receives their feet who wend to eternal affliction.'

Deiphobus then again, 'Speak not, great priestess, in anger;

I will away to refill my number among th' unfortun'd.

Thou, my champyon, adieu! Go where thy glory awaits thee!'

When these words he 'had spok'n, he-turn'd and hastily was fled.

Æneas then look'd where leftward, under a mountain,

Outspread a wide city lay, threefold with fortresses engirt,

Lickt by a Tartarean river of live fire, the torrent[^ia]l 550

Red Phlegethon, and huge boulders his roundy bubbles be:

Right i' the front stareth the columnar gate adamantine,

Such that no battering warfare of mén or immortals

E'er might shake; blank-faced to the cloud its bastion upstands.

Tisiphone thereby in a bloodspotty robe sitteth alway

Night and day guarding sleeplessly the desperat entrance,

Wherefrom an awestirring groan-cry and fierce clamour outburst,

Sharp lashes, insane yells, dragg'd chains and clanking of iron.

Æneas drew back, his heart by' his hearing affrighted:

'What manner of criminals, my guide, now tell-me,' he-question'd, 560

'Or what their penalties? what this great wail that ariseth?'

Answering him the divine priestess, 'Brave hero of Il[îû]m,

O'er that guilty threshold no breath of purity may come:

But Hecate, who gave-me to rule i' the groves of Avernus,

Herself led me around, & taught heav'n's high retribution.

Here Cretan Rhadamanthus in unblest empery reigneth,

Secret crime to punish,--full surely he-wringeth avowal

Even of all that on earth, by vain impunity harden'd,

Men sinning have put away from thought till[v]impenitent death.

On those convicted tremblers then leapeth avenging 570

Tisiphone with keen flesh-whips and vipery scourges,

And of her implacable sisters inviteth attendance.'

--Now sudden on screeching hinges that portal accursèd

Flung wide its barriers.--'In what dire custody, mark thou,

Is the threshold! guarded by how grim sentry the doorway!

More terrible than they the ravin'd insatiable Hydra

That sitteth angry within. Know too that Tartarus itself

Dives sheer gaping aneath in gloomy profundity downward

Twice that height that a man looketh-up t'ward airy Olympus.

Lowest there those children of Earth, Titanian elders, 580

In the abyss, where once they fell hurl'd, yet wallowing lie.

There the Alöīdæ saw I, th' ungainly rebel twins

Primæval, that assay'd to devastate th' Empyræan

With huge hands, and rob from Jove his kingdom immortal.

And there Salmoneus I saw, rend'ring heavy payment,

For that he idly' had mockt heav'n's fire and thunder electric;

With chariot many-yoked and torches brandishing on high

Driving among 'his Graian folk in Olympian Elis;

Exultant as a God he rode in blasphemy worshipt. 589

Fool, who th' unreckoning tempest and deadly dreaded bolt

Thought to mimic with brass and confus'd trample of horses!

But 'him th' Omnipotent, from amidst his cloudy pavilyon,

Blasted, an' eke his rattling car and smoky pretences

Extinguish'd at a stroke, scattering ' his dust to the whirlwind.

There too huge Tityos, whom Earth that gendereth all things

Once foster'd, spreadeth-out o'er nine full roods his immense limbs.

On him a wild vulture with hook-beak greedily gorgeth

His liver upsprouting quick as that Hell-chicken eateth.

Shé diggeth and dwelleth under the vast ribs, her bloody bare neck

Lifting anon: ne'er loathes-she the food, ne'er fails the renewal. 600

Where wer' an end their names to relate, their crimes and torments?

Some o'er whom a hanging black rock, slipping at very point of

Falling, ever threateneth: Couches luxurious invite

Softly-cushion'd to repose: Tables for banqueting outlaid

Tempt them ever-famishing: hard by them a Fury regardeth,

And should théy but a hand uplift, trembling to the dainties,

She with live firebrand and direful yell springeth on them.

Their crimes,--not to' hav lov'd a brother while love was allow'd them;

Or to' hav struck their father, or inveigled a dependant; 609

Or who chancing alone on wealth prey'd lustfully thereon,

Nor made share with others, no greater company than they:

Some for adultery slain; some their bright swords had offended

Drawn i' the wrong: or a master's trust with perfidy had met:

Dungeon'd their penalties they await. Look not to be answer'd

What that doom, nor th' end of these men think to determine.

Sóme aye roll heavy rocks, some whirl dizzy on the revolving

Spokes of a pendant wheel: sitteth and to eternity shall sit

Unfortun'd Theseus; while sad Phlegias saddeneth hell

With vain oyez to' all loud crying a tardy repentance,

"Walk, O man, i' the fear of Gód, and learn to be righteous!"

Here another, who sold for gold his country, promoting 621

Her tyrant; or annull'd for a base bribe th' inviolate law.

This one had unfather'd his blood with bestial incest:

All some fearful crime had dared & vaunted achievement.

What mind could harbour the offence of such recollection,

Or lend welcoming ear to the tale of iniquity and shame,

And to the pains wherewith such deeds are justly requited?

Ev'n when thus she' had spok'n, the priestess dear to Apollo,

'But, ready, come let us ón, perform-we the order appointed!

Hast'n-we (saith-she), the wall forged on Cyclopian anvils

Now I see, an' th' archway in Ætna's furnace attemper'd, 631

Where my lore biddeth us to depose our high-privileg'd gift.'

Then together they trace i' the drooping dimness a footpath,

Whereby, faring across, they arrive at th' arches of iron.

Æneas stept into the porch, and duly besprinkling

His body with clear water affixt his bough to the lintel;

And, having all perform'd at length with ritual exact,

They came out on a lovely pleasance, that dream'd-of oasis,

Fortunate isle, the abode o' the blest, their fair Happy Woodland.

Here is an ampler sky, those meads ar' azur'd by a gentler

Sun than th' Earth, an' a new starworld their darkness adorneth. 641

Some were matching afoot their speed on a grassy arena,

In playful combat some wrestling upon the yellow sand,

Part in a dance-rhythm or poetry's fine phantasy engage;

While full-toga'd anear their high-priest musical Orpheus

Bade his prime sev'n tones in varied harmony discourse,

Now with finger, anon sounding with an ivory plectrum.

And here Æneas met Teucer's fortunate offspring,

High-spirited heroes, fair-favor'd sons o' the morning,

Assarac and Ilos ' and Dardan founder of Il[^iu]m: 650

Their radiant chariots he' espied rank't empty afar off,

Their spears planted afield, their horses wandering at large,

Grazing around:--as on earth their joy had been, whether armour

Or chariot had charmed them, or if 'twer' good manage and care

Of the gallant warhorse, the delight liv'd here unabated;

Lo! then others, that about the meadow sat feasting in idless,

And chanting for joy a familyar pæan of old earth,

By fragrant laurel o'ercanopied, where 'twixt enamel'd banks

Bountiful Eridanus glides throu' their bosky retirement.

Here were men who bled for honour, their country defending; 660

Priests, whose lives wer' a flame of chastity on God's altar;

Holy poets, content to await their crown of Apollo;

Discoverers, whose labour had aided life or ennobled;

Or who fair memories had left though kindly deserving.

On their brow a fillet pearl-white distinguisheth all these:

Whom the Sibyl, for they drew round, in question accosted,

And most Musæus, who tower'd noble among them,

Center of all that sea of bright faces looking upward.

'Tell, happy souls, and thou poet and high mystic illustrious,

Where dwelleth Anchises? what home hath he? for 'tis in his quest 670

We hither have made journey across Hell's watery marches.'

Thertó with brief parley rejoin'd that mystic of old-time.

'In no certain abode we-remain: by turn the forest glade

Haunt-we, lilied stream-bank, sunny mead; and o'er valley and rock

At will rove-we: but if ye aright your purpose arede me,

Mount-ye the hill: myself will prove how easy the pathway.'

Speaking he léd: and come to the upland, sheweth a fair plain

Gleaming aneath; and they, with grateful adieu, the descent made.

Now Lord Anchises was down i' the green valley musing,

Where the spirits confin'd that await mortal resurrection 680

While diligently he-mark'd, his thought had turn'd to his own kin,

Whose numbers he-reckon'd, an' of all their progeny foretold

Their fate and fortune, their ripen'd temper an' action.

He then, when he' espied Æneas t'ward him approaching

O'er the meadow, both hands uprais'd and ran to receive him,

Tears in his eyes, while thus his voice in high passion outbrake.

'Ah, thou'rt come, thou'rt come! at length thy dearly belov'd grace

Conquering all hath won-thee the way. 'Tis allow'd to behold thee,

O my son,--yea again the familyar raptur' of our speech.

Nay, I look't for 't thus, counting patiently the moments, 690

And ever expected; nor did fond fancy betray me.

From what lands, my son, from what life-dangering ocean

Art-thou arrived? full mighty perils thy path hav' opposèd:

And how nearly the dark Libyan thy destiny o'erthrew!'

Then 'he, 'Thy spirit, O my sire, 'twas thy spirit often

Sadly appearing aroused-me to seek thy fair habitation.

My fleet moors i' the blue Tyrrhene: all with-me goeth well.

Grant-me to touch thy hand as of old, and thy body embrace.'

Speaking, awhile in tears his feeling mutinied, and when

For the longing contact of mortal affection, he out-held 700

His strong arms, the figure sustain'd them not: 'twas as empty

E'en as a windworn cloud, or a phantom of irrelevant sleep.

On the level bosom of this vale more thickly the tall trees

Grow, an' aneath quivering poplars and whispering alders

Lethe's dreamy river throu' peaceful scenery windeth.

Whereby now flitted in vast swarms many people of all lands,

As when in early summer 'honey-bees on a flowery pasture

Pill the blossoms, hurrying to' an' fro,--innumerous are they,

Revisiting the ravish'd lily cups, while all the meadow hums.

Æneas was turn'd to the sight, and marvelling inquired, 710

'Say, sir, what the river that there i' the vale-bottom I see?

And who they that thickly along its bank have assembled?'

Then Lord Anchises, 'The spirits for whom a second life

And body are destined ar' arriving thirsty to Lethe,

And here drink th' unmindful draught from wells of oblivyon.

My heart greatly desired of this very thing to acquaint thee,

Yea, and show-thee the men to-be-born, our glory her'after,

So to gladden thine heart where now thy voyaging endeth.'

'Must it then be-believ'd, my sire, that a soul which attaineth

Elysium will again submit to her old body-burden? 720

Is this well? what hap can awake such dire longing in them?'

'I will tell thee', O son, nor keep thy wonder awaiting,'

Answereth Anchises, and all expoundeth in order.

Know first that the heavens, and th' Earth, and space fluid or void,

Night's pallid orb, day's Sun, and all his starry coævals,

Are by one spirit inly quickened, and, mingling in each part,

Mind informs the matter, nature's complexity ruling.

Thence the living creatures, man, brute, and ev'ry feather'd fowl,

And what breedeth in Ocean aneath her surface of argent:

Their seed knoweth a fiery vigour, 'tis of airy divine birth, 730

In so far as unimpeded by an alien evil,

Nor dull'd by the body's framework condemn'd to corruption.

Hence the desires and vain tremblings that assail them, unable

Darkly prison'd to arise to celestial exaltation;

Nor when death summoneth them anon earth-life to relinquish,

Can they in all discard their stain, nor wholly away with

Mortality's plaguespots. It must-be that, O, many wild graffs

Deeply at 'heart engrain'd have rooted strangely upon them:

Wherefore must suffering purge them, yea, Justice atone them

With penalties heavy as their guilt: some purify exposed 740

Hung to the viewless winds, or others long watery searchings

Low i' the deep wash clean, some bathe in f[^ie]ry renewal:

Each cometh unto his own retribution,--if after in ample

Elysium we attain, but a few, to the fair Happy Woodland,

Yet slow time still worketh on us to remove the defilement,

Till it hath eaten away the acquir'd dross, leaving again free

That first f[^ie]ry vigour, the celest[^ia]l virtue of our life.

All whom here thou s[^ee]st, hav' accomplished purification:

Unto the stream of Lethe a god their company calleth,

That forgetful of old failure, pain & disappointment, 750

They may again into' earthly bodies with glad courage enter.'

* * *

Twín be the gates o' the house of sleep: as fable opineth 893

One is of horn, and thence for a true dream outlet is easy:

Fair the other, shining perfected of ivory carven;

But false are the visions that thereby find passage upward.

Soon then as Anchises had spok'n, he-led the Sibyl forth

And his son, and both dismisst from th' ivory portal.

FINIS

INDEX

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

PAGE

A cottage built of native stone, 354

A coy inquisitive spirit, 27

After long sleep when Psyche first awoke, 105

Again with pleasant green, 252

Ah heavenly joy, 219

Ah, what a change, 445

All earthly beauty hath one cause, 204

All women born, 241

A man that sees by chance, 206

Among the meadows, 372

And truly need there was, 113

An effigy of brass, 349

Angel spirits of sleep, 291

An idle June day, 206

A poppy grows upon the shore, 234

Ariel, O,--my angel, my own, 299

A single lamp there stood, 161

A song of my heart, 311

Assemble, all ye maidens, 238

At dead of unseen night, 446

A thousand times hath in my heart's behoof, 201

At times with hurried hoofs, 205

Awake, my heart, to be loved, 277

Away now, lovely Muse, 221

A winter's night with the snow about, 272

Beautiful must be the mountains, 311

Beauty sat with me, 215

Because thou canst not see, 268

Behold! the radiant Spring, 255

Belov'd of all to whom that Muse is dear, 377

Beneath the wattled bank, 330

Betwixt two billows of the downs, 301

Bright day succeedeth unto day, 61

Bright, my beloved, be thy day, 363

But Aphrodite to the house of Zeus, 153

But Eros now recover'd from his hurt, 169

But fairest Psyche still in favour rose, 97

Christ and his Mother, 313

Clear and gentle stream, 225

Close up, bright flow'rs, 71

Cold is the winter day, 308

Come gentle sleep, I woo thee, 211

Come, rosy angel, thy coronet donning, 441

Crown Winter with green, 297

Dear lady, when thou frownest, 232

Dreary was winter, 220

Ended are many days, 367

Eternal Father, who didst all create, 221

Fair lady of learning, 390

Fight well, my comrades, 447

Fire of heaven, whose starry arrow, 290

Flame-throated robin, 309

For beauty being the best of all we know, 191

For thou art mine, 188

Gay and lovely is earth, 53

Gay Marigold is frolic, 371

Gay Robin is seen no more, 285

Gird on thy sword, O man, 407

Gloom and the night are thine, 403

Hark! the world is full of thy praise, 364

Hark to the merry birds, 283

Hark! what spirit doth entreat, 405

Haste on, my joys, 269

Heavy meanwhile at heart, 145

His poisoned shafts, 240

How coud I quarrel or blame you, 193

How fares it, friend, since I, 378

How well my eyes remember, 332

I care not if I live, 203

I climb the mossy bank, 338

I died in very flow'r, 448

If I coud but forget and not recall, 207

I found to-day out walking, 233

I have loved flowers that fade, 263

I have sown upon the fields, 351

I heard a linnet courting, 231

I heard great Hector, 213

I know not how I came, 246

I live on hope, 218

I love all beauteous things, 281

I love my lady's eyes, 278

I made another song, 237

In all things beautiful, 202

In autumn moonlight, 215

I never shall love the snow again, 309

In midmost length of hundred-citied Crete, 89

In still midsummer night, 375

In the golden glade, 317

In thee my spring of life, 190

In this May-month, 307

In this neglected, ruin'd edifice, 209

In ways of beauty and peace, 404

I praise the tender flower, 272

I saw the Virgin-mother, 245

I stand on the cliff, 266

I travel to thee with the sun's first rays, 201

I will be what God made me, 218

I will not let thee go, 232

I wish'd to sing thy grace, 347

I would be a bird, 198

_Je donnerais pour revivre à vingt ans_, 379

Joy, sweetest lifeborn joy, 275

Let praise devote thy work, 300

Let us, as by this verdant bank, 250

Long are the hours the sun is above, 235

Look down the river, 327

Look! Look! the spring is come, 318

Love not too much, 302

Love on my heart from heaven fell, 287

Love that I know, 217

Love to Love calleth, 397

Lo where the virgin veiled in airy beams, 71

Man, born of desire, 399

Man, born to toil, 404

Man hath with man, 323

Mortal though I be, yea ephemeral, 447

My bed and pillow are cold, 273

My delight and thy delight, 339

My eyes for beauty pine, 286

My lady pleases me and I please her, 202

Myriad-voiced Queen, 394

My soul is drunk with joy, 46

My spirit kisseth thine, 298

My spirit sang all day, 281

My wearied heart, 220

No ethical system, no contemplation, 425

Nothing is joy without thee, 199

Now all the windows, 340

Now in wintry delights, 411

Now joy in all hearts, 439

Now since to me altho' by thee refused, 193

Now thin mists temper, 304

O bold majestic downs, 251

O flesh and blood, comrade to tragic pain, 197

O golden Sun, whose ray, 261

O heavenly fire, life's life, 40

O Love, I complain, 335

O Love, my muse, 286

O miserable man, 37

_O my goddess divine_, 204

O my life's mischief, 205

O my uncared-for songs, 212

O my vague desires, 46, 264

Once I would say, 210

One grief of thine, 375

On the Hellenic board of Crete's fair isle, 137

Open for me the gates of delight, 401

O that the earth, or only this fair isle, 72

O thou unfaithful, 273

O weary pilgrims, 198

O youth whose hope is high, 280

Perfect little body, 267

Poor withered rose, 228

Power eternal, power unknown, 403

Rejoice, ye dead, 196, 401

Resound! Resound! To jubilant music ring, 393

Riding adown the country lanes, 342

Sad, sombre place, 258

Say who be these, 195

Say who is this with silvered hair, 296

See, Love, a year is pass'd, 447

See, whirling snow, 306

Sense with keenest edge unused, 343

Since I believe in God, 443

Since not the enamour'd sun, 214

Since now from woodland mist, 377

Since then 'tis only pity looking back, 210

Since thou, O fondest and truest, 279

Since to be loved endures, 303

Since we loved, 346

Sometimes when my lady sits by me, 234

So sweet love seemed, 305

Spirit of grace and beauty, 350

Spring goeth all in white, 286

Spring hath her own bright days, 199

Sweet compassionate tears, 406

Tears of love, tears of joy, 207

The birds that sing on autumn eves, 293

The cliff-top has a carpet, 229

The clouds have left the sky, 283

The dark and serious angel, 217

The day begins to droop, 345

Thee fair Poetry oft hath sought, 395

The evening darkens over, 279

The fabled sea-snake, old Leviathan, 200

The full moon from her cloudless skies, 277

The green corn waving in the dale, 288

The hill pines were sighing, 288

The idle life I lead, 290

The image of thy love, 209

The lonely season in lonely lands, 314

The north wind came up, 315

The pinks along my garden walks, 289

The poets were good teachers, 189

There is a hill, 248

There's many a would-be poet, 192

There was no lad handsomer, 319

The saddest place, 355

The sea keeps not the Sabbath day, 341

The sea with melancholy war, 396

These grey stones have rung with mirth, 446

These meagre rhymes, 214

The sickness of desire, 376

The snow lies sprinkled on the beach, 298

The south wind rose at dusk, 336

The spirit's eager sense, 211

The storm is over, 294

The summer trees are tempest-torn, 292

The upper skies are palest blue, 282

The very names of things belov'd, 189

The whole world now is but the minister, 188

The wood is bare, 227

The work is done, 200

The world comes not to an end, 212

The world still goeth about to shew and hide, 197

They that in play can do the thing they would, 187

They wer' amid the shadows, 448

This world is unto God a work of art, 195

Thou art a poet, Robbie Burns, 385

Thou didst delight my eyes, 274

Thou dimpled Millicent, 374

Thousand threads of rain, 446

Thou vainly, O Man, self-deceiver, 444

Thus to be humbled, 203

Thus to thy beauty, 191

To me, to me, fair hearted Goddess, come, 398

To my love I whisper, 339

To us, O Queen of sinless grace, 402

Truest-hearted of early friends, 442

Turn, O return, 395

'Twas on the very day winter took leave, 216

Voyaging northwards, 359

Wanton with long delay, 284

Weep not to-day, 320

We left the city when the summer day, 270

What happy bonds together unite you, 447

What is sweeter than new-mown hay, 292

'What think you, sister', 121

What voice of gladness, 306

When Death to either shall come, 347

When first I saw thee, dearest, 216

When first we met, 241

When from the lowest ebbing, 129

When I see childhood, 208

When June is come, 289

When men were all asleep, 265

When my love was away, 294

When parch'd with thirst, 208

When sometimes in an ancient house, 194

When thou didst give thy love to me, 374

When thou, my beloved, diedst, 448

When to my lone soft bed, 442

Wherefore to-night so full of care, 260

Where San Miniato's convent, 196

Where thou art better I too were, 448

While Eros in his chamber hid his tears, 177

While yet we wait for spring, 190

Whither, O splendid ship, 244

Who builds a ship, 194

Who has not walked upon the shore, 236

Who takes the census of the living dead, 213

Why art thou sad, 347

Why hast thou nothing, 348

Why, O Maker of all, 445

Will Love again awake, 242

Winter was not unkind, 192

With mild eyes agaze, 389

Ye blessed saints, 219

Ye Spartan mothers, 371

Ye thrilled me once, 296

FOOTNOTES:

[A] There is another alcaic translation from Blake on p. 71 in

'Demeter'. The Ode on p. 72 is iambic, and the Chorus on pp. 53, 54 is

in choriambics.

[B] Line 321. 'T'whom' is from Milton, in imitation of Virgil's admired

Olli. It is not admitted in the ordinary prosody.

The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight Dramas · 第 6 / 6 章