Cloven which carry her to her far goal.
_In._ Will that of all these evils be the term?
_Pr._ Ay, but the journey first which she must learn.
Hear now, my child; the day when thou art free,
Leaving the lion-gate, descend and strike
The Trêtan road to Nemea, skirting wide
The unhunted forest o’er the watered plain
To walled Cleônæ, whence the traversed stream
To Corinth guides: there enter not, but pass
To narrow Isthmus, where Poseidon won 1080
A country from Apollo, and through the town
Of Crommyon, till along the robber’s road
Pacing, thy left eye meet the westering sun
O’er Geraneia, and thou reach the hill
Of Megara, where Car thy brother’s babe
In time shall rule; next past Eleusis climb
Stony Panactum and the pine-clad slopes
Of Phyle; shun the left-hand way, and keep
The rocks; the second day thy feet shall tread
The plains of Græa, whence the roadway serves
Aulis and Mycalessus to the point 1091
Of vext Euripus: fear not then the stream,
Nor scenting think to taste, but plunging in
Breast its salt current to the further shore.
For on this island mayst thou lose awhile
Thy maddening pest, and rest and pasture find,
And from the heafs of bold Macistus see
The country left and sought: but when thou feel
Thy torment urge, move down, recross the flood,
And west by Harma’s fencèd gap arrive
At seven-gated Thebes: thy friendly goddess
Ongan Athenè has her seat without. 1102
_Chor._ Now if she may not stay thy toilsome destined steps,
I pray that she may slay for thee the maddening fly.
_Pr._ Keep not her sanctuary long, but seek
Bœotian Ascra, where the Muses’ fount,
Famed Aganippè, wells: Ocalea
Pass, and Tilphusa’s northern steeps descend
By Alalcomenæ, the goddess’ town.
Guard now the lake’s low shore, till thou have crossed
Hyrcana and Cephissus, the last streams 1111
Which feed its reedy pools, when thou shalt come
Between two mountains that enclose the way
By peakèd Abæ to Hyampolis.
The right-hand path that thither parts the vale
Opes to Cyrtonè and the Locrian lands;
Toward Elateia thou, where o’er the marsh
A path with stones is laid; and thence beyond
To Thronium, Tarphè, and Thermopylæ,
Where rocky Lamia views the Maliac gulf.
_Chor._ If further she should go, will she not see
That other Argos, the Dodonian land? 1122
_Pr._ Crossing the Phthian hills thou next shalt reach
Pharsalus, and Olympus’ peakèd snows
Shall guide thee o’er the green Pelasgic plains
For many a day, but to Argissa come
Let old Peneius thy slow pilot be
Through Tempè, till they turn upon his left
Crowning the wooded slopes with splendours bare.
Thence issuing forth on the Pierian shore
Northward of Ossa thou shalt touch the lands
Of Macedon.
_Chor._ Alas, we wish thee speed, 1132
But bid thee here farewell; for out of Greece
Thou goest ’mongst the folk whose chattering speech
Is like the voice of birds, nor home again
Wilt thou return.
_Pr._ Thy way along the coast
Lies till it southward turn, when thou shalt seek
Where wide on Strymon’s plain the hindered flood
Spreads like a lake; thy course to his oppose
And face him to the mountain whence he comes:
Which doubled, Thrace receives thee: barbarous names 1141
Of mountain, town and river, and a people
Strange to thine eyes and ears, the Agathyrsi,
Of pictured skins, who owe no marriage law,
And o’er whose gay-spun garments sprent with gold
Their hanging hair is blue. Their torrent swim
That measures Europe in two parts, and go
Eastward along the sea, to mount the lands
Beyond man’s dwelling, and the rising steeps
That face the sun untrodden and unnamed.--1150
Know to earth’s verge remote thou then art come,
The Scythian tract and wilderness forlorn,
Through whose rude rocks and frosty silences
No path shall guide thee then, nor my words now.
There as thou toilest o’er the treacherous snows,
A sound then thou shalt hear to stop thy breath,
And prick thy trembling ears; a far-off cry,
Whose throat seems the white mountain and its passion
The woe of earth. Flee not, nor turn not back:
Let thine ears drink and guide thine eyes to see
That sight whose terrors shall assuage thy terror,
Whose pain shall kill thy pain. Stretched on the rock,
Naked to scorching sun, to pinching frost, 1163
To wind and storm and beaks of wingèd fiends
From year to year he lies. Refrain to ask
His name and crime--nay, haply when thou see him
Thou wilt remember--’tis thy tyrant’s foe,
Man’s friend, who pays his chosen penalty.
Draw near, my child, for he will know thy need,
And point from land to land thy further path.
_Chorus_
O miserable man, hear now the worst.
O weak and tearful race,
Born to unhappiness, see now thy cause 1173
Doomed and accurst!
It surely were enough, the bad and good
Together mingled, against chance and ill
To strive, and prospering by turns,
Now these, now those, now folly and now skill,
Alike by means well understood
Or ’gainst all likelihood;
Loveliness slaving to the unlovely will
That overrides the right and laughs at law.
But always all in awe 1183
And imminent dread:
Because there is no mischief thought or said,
Imaginable or unguessed,
But it may come to be; nor home of rest,
Nor hour secure: but anywhere,
At any moment; in the air,
Or on the earth or sea,
Or in the fair
And tender body itself it lurks, creeps in,
Or seizes suddenly, 1193
Torturing, burning, withering, devouring,
Shaking, destroying; till tormented life
Sides with the slayer, not to be,
And from the cruel strife
Falls to fate overpowering.
Or if some patient heart,
In toilsome steps of duty tread apart, 1200
Thinking to win her peace within herself,
And thus awhile succeed:
She must see others bleed,
At others’ misery moan,
And learn the common suffering is her own,
From which it is no freedom to be freed:
Nay, Nature, her best nurse,
Is tender but to breed a finer sense,
Which she may easier wound, with smart the worse
And torture more intense. 1210
And no strength for thee but the thought of duty,
Nor any solace but the love of beauty.
O Right’s toil unrewarded!
O Love’s prize unaccorded!
I say this might suffice,
O tearful and unstable
And miserable man,
Were’t but from day to day
Thy miserable lot,
This might suffice, I say, 1220
To term thee miserable.
But thou of all thine ills too must take thought,
Must grow familiar till no curse astound thee,
With tears recall the past,
With tears the times forecast;
With tears, with tears thou hast
The scapeless net spread in thy sight around thee.
How then support thy fate,
O miserable man, if this befall,
That he who loves thee and would aid thee, daring
To raise an arm for thy deliverance, 1231
Must for his courage suffer worse than all?
_In._ Bravest deliverer, for thy prophecy
Has torn the veil which hid thee from my eyes,
If thyself art that spirit, of whom some things
Were darkly spoken,--nor can I doubt thou art,
Being that the heaven its fire withholds not from thee
Nor time his secrets,--tell me now thy name,
That I may praise thee rightly; and my late
Unwitting words pardon thou, and these who still
In blinded wonder kneel not to thy love. 1241
_Pr._ Speak not of love. See, I am moved with hate,
And fiercest anger, which will sometimes spur
The heart to extremity, till it forget
That there is any joy save furious war.
Nay, were there now another deed to do,
Which more could hurt our enemy than this,
Which here I stand to venture, here would I leave thee
Conspiring at his altar, and fly off
To plunge the branding terror in his soul.
But now the rising passion of my will 1251
Already jars his reaching sense, already
From heaven he bids his minion Hermes forth
To bring his only rebel to his feet.
Therefore no more delay, the time is short.
_In._ I take, I take. ’Tis but for thee to give.
_Pr._ O heavenly fire, life’s life, the eye of day,
Whose nimble waves upon the starry night
Of boundless ether love to play,
Carrying commands to every gliding sprite
To feed all things with colour, from the ray
Of thy bright-glancing, white 1162
And silver-spinning light:
Unweaving its thin tissue for the bow
Of Iris, separating countless hues
Of various splendour for the grateful flowers
To crown the hasting hours,
Changing their special garlands as they choose.
O spirit of rage and might,
Who canst unchain the links of winter stark,
And bid earth’s stubborn metals flow like oil,
Her porphyrous heart-veins boil; 1272
Whose arrows pierce the cloudy shields of dark;
Let now this flame, which did to life awaken
Beyond the cold dew-gathering veils of morn,
And thence by me was taken,
And in this reed was borne,
A smothered theft and gift to man below,
Here with my breath revive,
Restore thy lapsèd realm, and be the sire
Of many an earthly fire. 1281
O flame, flame bright and live,
Appear upon the altar as I blow.
_Chor._ ’Twas in the marish reed.
See to his mouth he sets its hollow flute
And breathes therein with heed,
As one who from a pipe with breathings mute
Will music’s voice evoke.—
See, the curl of a cloud.
_In._ The smoke, the smoke! 1290
_Semichorus._ Thin clouds mounting higher.
_In._ ’Tis smoke, the smoke of fire.
_Semichorus._ Thick they come and thicker,
Quick arise and quicker,
Higher still and higher.
Their wreaths the wood enfold.
--I see a spot of gold.
They spring from a spot of gold,
Red gold, deep among
The leaves: a golden tongue. 1300
O behold, behold,
Dancing tongues of gold,
That leaping aloft flicker,
Higher still and higher.
_In._ ’Tis fire, the flame of fire!
_Semichorus._ The blue smoke overhead
Is turned to angry red.
The fire, the fire, it stirs.
Hark, a crackling sound,
As when all around 1310
Ripened pods of furze
Split in the parching sun
Their dry caps one by one,
And shed their seeds on the ground.
--Ah! what clouds arise.
Away! O come away.
The wind-wafted smoke,
Blowing all astray,
[_Prometheus, after writing his name on the altar, goes out
unobserved._]
Blinds and pricks my eyes.
Ah! I choke, I choke.
--All the midst is rent:
See the twigs are all
By the flaming spent
White and gold, and fall.
How they writhe, resist,
Blacken, flake, and twist,
Snap in gold and fall.
--See the stars that mount,
Momentary bright
Flitting specks of light 1330
More than eye can count.
Insects of the air,
As in summer night
Show a fire in flying
Flickering here and there,
Waving past and dying.
--Look, a common cone
Of the mountain pine
Solid gold is grown;
Till its scales outshine, 1340
Standing each alone
In the spiral rows
Of their fair design,
All the brightest shows
Of the sun’s decline.
--Hark, there came a hiss,
Like a startled snake
Sliding through the brake.
Oh, and what is this?
Smaller flames that flee 1350
Sidelong from the tree,
Hark, they hiss, they hiss.
--How the gay flames flicker,
Spurting, dancing, leaping
Quicker yet and quicker,
Higher yet and higher,
--Flaming, flaring, fuming,
Cracking, crackling, creeping,
Hissing and consuming:
Mighty is the fire. 1360
_In._ Stay, stay, cease your rejoicings. Where is he,
The prophet,--nay, what say I,--the god, the giver?
_Chor._ He is not here--he is gone.
_In._ Search, search around.
Search all, search well.
_Chor._ He is gone,--he is not here.
_In._ The palace gate lies open: go, Argeia,
Maybe he went within: go seek him there.
[_Exit Ar._
Look down the sea road, down the country road:
Follow him if ye see him.
_Chor._ He is not there.
_In._ Strain, strain your eyes: look well: search everywhere.
Look townwards--is he there?
_Part of Chorus returning._ He is not there.—
_Other part returning._ He is not there.
_Ar. re-entering._ He is not there. 1371
_Chor._ O see!
_Chor._ See where?
_Chor._ See on the altar--see!
_Chor._ What see ye on the altar?
_Chor._ Here in front
Words newly writ.
_Chor._ What words?
_Chor._ A name--
_In._ Ay true--
There is the name. How like a child was I,
That I must wait till these dumb letters gave
The shape and soul to knowledge: when the god
Stood here so self-revealed to ears and eyes
That, ’tis a god I said, yet wavering still,
Doubting what god,--and now, who else but he?
I knew him, yet not well; I knew him not:
Prometheus--ay, Prometheus. Know ye, my children, 1382
This name we see was writ by him we seek.
’Tis his own name, his own heart-stirring name,
Feared and revered among the immortal gods;
Divine Prometheus: see how here the large
Cadmeian characters run, scoring out
The hated title of his ancient foe,—
To Zeus ’twas made,--and now ’tis to Prometheus--
Writ with the charrèd reed--theft upon theft.
He hath stolen from Zeus his altar, and with his fire
Hath lit our sacrifice unto himself. 1392
Ió Prometheus, friend and firegiver,
For good or ill thy thefts and gifts are ours.
We worshipped thee unknowing.
_Chor._ But now where is he?
_In._ No need to search--we shall not see him more.
We look in vain. The high gods when they choose
Put on and off the solid visible shape
Which more deceives our hasty sense, than when
Seeing them not we judge they stand aloof.
And he, he now is gone; his work is done:
’Tis ours to see it be not done in vain. 1402
_Chor._ What is to do? speak, bid, command, we fly.
_In._ Go some and fetch more wood to feed the fire;
And some into the city to proclaim
That fire is ours: and send out messengers
To Corinth, Sicyon, Megara and Athens
And to Mycenæ, telling we have fire:
And bid that in the temples they prepare
Their altars, and send hither careful men
To learn of me what things the time requires.
[_Exit part of Chorus._
The rest remain to end our feast; and now
Seeing this altar is no more to Zeus, 1413
But shall for ever be with smouldering heat
Fed for the god who first set fire thereon,
Change ye your hymns, which in the praise of Zeus
Ye came to sing, and change the prayer for fire
Which ye were wont to raise, to high thanksgiving,
Praising aloud the giver and his gift.
_Part of Chorus._ Now our happy feast hath ending,
While the sun in heaven descending
Sees us gathered round a light
Born to cheer his vacant night. 1423
Praising him to-day who came
Bearing far his heavenly flame:
Came to crown our king’s desire
With his gift of golden fire.
_Semichorus._ My heart, my heart is freed.
Now can I sing. I loose a shaft from my bow,
A song from my heart to heaven, and watch it speed.
It revels in the air, and straight to its goal doth go.
I have no fear: I praise distinguishing duly:
I praise the love that I love and I worship truly.
Goodness I praise, not might,
Nor more will I speak of wrong, 1435
But of lovingkindness and right;
And the god of my love shall rejoice at the sound of my song.
I praise him whom I have seen:
As a man he is beautiful, blending prime and youth,
Of gentle and lovely mien,
With the step and the eyes of truth,
As a god,--O were I a god, but thus to be man!
As a god, I set him above
The rest of the gods; for his gifts are pledges of love,
The words of his mouth rare and precious,
His eyes’ glance and the smile of his lips are love.
He is the one 1447
Alone of all the gods,
Of righteous Themis the lofty-spirited son,
Who hates the wrongs they have done.
He is the one I adore.
For if there be love in heaven with evil to cope,—
And he promised us more and more,—
For what may we not hope?
_ODE_
My soul is drunk with joy, her new desire
In far forbidden places wanders away.
Her hopes with free bright-coloured wings of fire
Upon the gloom of thought
Are sailing out.
Awhile they rise, awhile to rest they softly fall,
Like butterflies, that flit 1461
Across the mountains, or upon a wall
Winking their idle fans at pleasure sit.
O my vague desires!
Ye lambent flames of the soul, her offspring fires:
That are my soul herself in pangs sublime
Rising and flying to heaven before her time:
What doth tempt you forth
To melt in the south or shiver in the frosty north?
What seek ye or find ye in your random flying,
For ever soaring aloft, soaring and dying?
Joy, the joy of flight; 1472
They hide in the sun, they flare and dance in the night.
Gone up, gone out of sight--and ever again
Follow fresh tongues of fire, fresh pangs of pain.
Ah! could I control
These vague desires, these leaping flames of the soul:
Could I but quench the fire, ah! could I stay
My soul that flieth, alas, and dieth away!
[_Enter other part of Chorus._
_Part of Chor._ Here is wood to feed the fire--
Never let its flames expire.
Sing ye still while we advance
Round the fire in measured dance,
While the sun in heaven descending
Sees our happy feast have ending. 1485
Weave ye still your joyous song,
While we bear the wood along.
_Semichorus._ But O return,
Return, thou flower of the gods!
Remember the limbs that toil and the hearts that yearn,
Remember, and soon return!
To prosper with peace and skill
Our hands in the works of pleasure, beauty and use.
Return, and be for us still
Our shield from the anger of Zeus. 1495
And he, if he raise his arm in anger to smite thee,
And think for the good thou hast done with pain to requite thee,
Vengeance I heard thee tell,
And the curse I take for my own,
That his place is prepared in hell,
And a greater than he shall hurl him down from his throne.
Down, down from his throne!
For the god who shall rule mankind from the deathless skies
By mercy and truth shall be known,
In love and peace shall arise. 1505
For him,--if again I hear him thunder above,
O then, if I crouch or start,
I will press thy lovingkindness more to my heart,
Remember the words of thy mouth rare and precious,
Thy heart of hearts and gifts of divine love.
EROS & PSYCHE
A NARRATIVE POEM IN
TWELVE MEASURES
THE STORY DONE INTO
ENGLISH FROM THE
LATIN OF APULEIUS
_L’anima semplicetta che sa nulla._
DANTE
_O latest-born, O loveliest vision far
Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy._
KEATS
EROS & PSYCHE
FIRST QUARTER
SPRING
PSYCHE’S EARTHLY PARENTAGE · WORSHIPPED
BY MEN · & PERSECUTED BY
APHRODITE · SHE IS LOVED & CARRIED
OFF BY EROS
EROS & PSYCHE
MARCH
1
In midmost length of hundred-citied Crete,
The land that cradl’d Zeus, of old renown,
Where grave Demeter nurseried her wheat,
And Minos fashion’d law, ere he went down
To judge the quaking hordes of Hell’s domain,
There dwelt a King on the Omphalian plain
Eastward of Ida, in a little town.
2
Three daughters had this King, of whom my tale
Time hath preserved, that loveth to despise
The wealth which men misdeem of much avail,
Their glories for themselves that they devise;
For clerkly is he, old hard-featured Time,
And poets’ fabl’d song, and lovers’ rhyme
He storeth on his shelves to please his eyes.
3
These three princesses all were fairest fair;
And of the elder twain ’tis truth to say
That if they stood not high above compare,
Yet in their prime they bore the palm away;
Outwards of loveliness; but Nature’s mood,
Gracious to make, had grudgingly endued
And marr’d by gifting ill the beauteous clay.
4
And being in honour they were well content
To feed on lovers’ looks and courtly smiles,
To hang their necks with jewel’d ornament,
And gold, that vanity in vain beguiles,
And live in gaze, and take their praise for due,
To be the fairest maidens then to view
Within the shores of Greece and all her isles.
5
But of that youngest one, the third princess,
There is no likeness; since she was as far
From pictured beauty as is ugliness,
Though on the side where heavenly wonders are,
Ideals out of being and above,
Which music worshipeth, but if love love,
’Tis, as the poet saith, to love a star.
6
Her vision rather drave from passion’s heart
What earthly soil it had afore possest;
Since to man’s purer unsubstantial part
The brightness of her presence was addrest:
And such as mock’d at God, when once they saw
Her heavenly glance, were humbl’d, and in awe
Of things unseen, return’d to praise the Best.
7
And so before her, wheresoe’er she went,
Hushing the crowd a thrilling whisper ran,
And silent heads were reverently bent;
Till from the people the belief began
That Love’s own mother had come down on earth,
Sweet Cytherea, or of mortal birth
A greater Goddess was vouchsaf’t to man.
8
Then Aphrodite’s statue in its place
Stood without worshippers; if Cretans pray’d
For beauty or for children, love or grace,
The prayer and vow were offer’d to the maid;
Unto the maid their hymns of praise were sung,
Their victims bled for her, for her they hung
Garland and golden gift, and none forbade.
9
And thence opinion spread beyond the shores,
From isle to isle the wonder flew, it came
Across the Ægæan on a thousand oars,
Athens and Smyrna caught the virgin’s fame;
And East or West, where’er the tale had been,
The adoration of the foam-born queen
Fell to neglect, and men forgot her name.
10
No longer to high Paphos now ’twas sail’d;
The fragrant altar by the Graces served
At Cnidus was forsaken; pilgrims fail’d
The rocky island to her name reserved,
Proud Ephyra, and Meropis renown’d;
’Twas all for Crete her votaries were bound,
And to the Cretan maid her worship swerved.
11
Which when in heaven great Aphrodite saw,
Who is the breather of the year’s bright morn,
Fount of desire and beauty without flaw,
Herself the life that doth the world adorn;
Seeing that without her generative might
Nothing can spring upon the shores of light,
Nor any bud of joy or love be born;
12
She, when she saw the insult, did not hide
Her indignation, that a mortal frail
With her eterne divinity had vied,
Her fair Hellenic empire to assail,
For which she had fled the doom of Ninus old,
And left her wanton images unsoul’d
In Babylon and Zidon soon to fail.
13
‘Not long,’ she cried, ‘shall that poor girl of Crete
God it in my despite; for I will bring
Such mischief on the sickly counterfeit
As soon shall cure her tribe of worshipping:
Her beauty will I mock with loathèd lust,
Bow down her dainty spirit to the dust,
And leave her long alive to feel the sting.’
14
With that she calls to her her comely boy,
The limber scion of the God of War,
The fruit adulterous, which for man’s annoy
To that fierce partner Cytherea bore,
Eros, the ever young, who only grew
In mischief, and was Cupid named anew
In westering aftertime of latin lore.
15
What the first dawn of manhood is, the hour
When beauty, from its fleshy bud unpent,
Flaunts like the corol of a summer flower,
As if all life were for that ornament,
Such Eros seemed in years, a trifler gay,
The prodigal of an immortal day
For ever spending, and yet never spent.
16
His skin is brilliant with the nimble flood
Of ichor, that comes dancing from his heart,
Lively as fire, and redder than the blood,
And maketh in his eyes small flashes dart,
And curleth his hair golden, and distilleth
Honey on his tongue, and all his body filleth
With wanton lightsomeness in every part.
17
Naked he goeth, but with sprightly wings
Red, iridescent, are his shoulders fledged.
A bow his weapon, which he deftly strings,
And little arrows barb’d and keenly edged;
And these he shooteth true; but else the youth
For all his seeming recketh naught of truth,
But most deceiveth where he most is pledged.
18
’Tis he that maketh in men’s heart a strife
Between remorseful reason and desire,
Till with life lost they lose the love of life,
And by their own hands wretchedly expire;
Or slain in bloody rivalries they miss
Even the short embracement of their bliss,
His smile of fury and his kiss of fire.
19
He makes the strong man weak, the weak man wild;
Ruins great business and purpose high;
Brings down the wise to folly reconciled,
And martial captains on their knees to sigh:
He changeth dynasties, and on the head
Of duteous heroes, who for honour bled,
Smircheth the laurel that can never die.
20
Him then she call’d, and gravely kissing told
The great dishonour to her godhead done;
And how, if he from that in heaven would hold,
On earth he must maintain it as her son;
The rather that his weapons were most fit,
As was his skill ordain’d to champion it;
And flattering thus his ready zeal she won.
21
Whereon she quickly led him down on earth,
And show’d him PSYCHE, thus the maid was named;
Whom when she show’d, but could not hide her worth,
She grew with envy tenfold more enflamed.
‘But if,’ she cried, ‘thou smite her as I bid,
Soon shall our glory of this affront be rid,
And she and all her likes for ever shamed.
22
‘Make her to love the loathliest, basest wretch,
Deform’d in body, and of moonstruck mind,
A hideous brute and vicious, born to fetch
Anger from dogs and cursing from the blind.
And let her passion for the monster be
As shameless and detestable as he
Is most extreme and vile of humankind.’
23