Alexandriana

ILAID the strewings, sweetest, on thine urn;I lowered the torch, I poured the cup to Dis.Now hushaby, my little child, and learnLong sleep how good it is.In vain thy mother prays, wayfaring hence,Peace to her heart, where only heartaches dwell;But thou more blest, O wild intelligence!Forget her, and Farewell.IIGentle Grecian passing by,Father of thy peace am I:Wouldst thou now, in memory,Give a soldier’s flower to me,Choose the flag I named of yoreBeautiful Worth-dying-for,That shall wither not, but waveAll the year above my grave.IIILight thou hast of the moon,Shade of the dammar-pine,Here on thy hillside bed;Fair befall thee, O fairLily of womanhood,Patient long, and at lastHere on thy hillside bed,Happier: ah, Blæsilla!IVTwo white heads the grasses cover:Dorcas, and her lifelong lover.While they graced their country closesSimply as the brooks and roses,Where was lot so poor, so trodden,But they cheered it of a sudden?Fifty years at home together,Hand in hand, they went elsewhither,Then first leaving hearts behindComfortless. Be thou as kind.VUpon thy level tomb, till windy winter dawn,The fallen leaves delay;But plain and pure their trace is, when themselves are tornFrom delicate frost away.As here to transient frost the absent leaf is, suchThou wert and art to me:So on my passing life is thy long-passèd touch,O dear Alcithoë!VIHail, and be of comfort, thou pious Xeno,Late the urn of many a kinsman wreathing;On thine own shall even the stranger offerPlentiful myrtle.VIIHere lies one in the earth who scarce of the earth was moulded,Wise Æthalides’ son, himself no lover of study,Cnopus, asleep, indoors: the young invincible runner.They from the cliff footpath that see on the grave we made him,Tameless, slant in the wind, the bare and beautiful iris,Stop short, full of delight, and shout forth: “See, it is CnopusRuns, with white throat forward, over the sands to Chalcis!”VIIIEre the Ferryman from the coast of spiritsTurn the diligent oar that brought thee thither,Soul, remember: and leave a kiss upon itFor thy desolate father, for thy sister,Whichsoever be first to cross hereafter.IXJaffa ended, Cos begunThee, Aristeus. Thou wert oneFit to trample out the sun:Who shall think thine ardors areBut a cinder in a jar?XMe, deep-tressèd meadows, take to your loyal keeping,Hard by the swish of sickles ever in Aulon sleeping,Philophron, old and tired, and glad to be done with reaping!XIAs wind that wasteth the unmarried rose,And mars the golden breakers in the bay,Hurtful and sweet from heaven forever blowsSad thought that roughens all our quiet day;And elder poets envy while they weepIon, whom first the gods to covert brought,Here under inland olives laid asleep,Most wise, most happy, having done with thought.XIICows in the narrowing August marshes,Cows in a stretch of waterMotionless,Neck on neck overlapped and drooping;These in their troubled and dumb communion,Thou on the steep bank yonder,Pastora!No more ever to lead and love them,No more ever. Thine innocent mournersPass thy tree in the eveningHeavily,Hearing another herd-girl calling.XIIIPraise thou the Mighty Mother for what is wrought, not me,A nameless nothing-caring head asleep against her knee.

ILAID the strewings, sweetest, on thine urn;I lowered the torch, I poured the cup to Dis.Now hushaby, my little child, and learnLong sleep how good it is.

ILAID the strewings, sweetest, on thine urn;

I lowered the torch, I poured the cup to Dis.

Now hushaby, my little child, and learn

Long sleep how good it is.

In vain thy mother prays, wayfaring hence,Peace to her heart, where only heartaches dwell;But thou more blest, O wild intelligence!Forget her, and Farewell.

In vain thy mother prays, wayfaring hence,

Peace to her heart, where only heartaches dwell;

But thou more blest, O wild intelligence!

Forget her, and Farewell.

Gentle Grecian passing by,Father of thy peace am I:Wouldst thou now, in memory,Give a soldier’s flower to me,Choose the flag I named of yoreBeautiful Worth-dying-for,That shall wither not, but waveAll the year above my grave.

Gentle Grecian passing by,

Father of thy peace am I:

Wouldst thou now, in memory,

Give a soldier’s flower to me,

Choose the flag I named of yore

Beautiful Worth-dying-for,

That shall wither not, but wave

All the year above my grave.

III

Light thou hast of the moon,Shade of the dammar-pine,Here on thy hillside bed;Fair befall thee, O fairLily of womanhood,Patient long, and at lastHere on thy hillside bed,Happier: ah, Blæsilla!

Light thou hast of the moon,

Shade of the dammar-pine,

Here on thy hillside bed;

Fair befall thee, O fair

Lily of womanhood,

Patient long, and at last

Here on thy hillside bed,

Happier: ah, Blæsilla!

Two white heads the grasses cover:Dorcas, and her lifelong lover.While they graced their country closesSimply as the brooks and roses,Where was lot so poor, so trodden,But they cheered it of a sudden?Fifty years at home together,Hand in hand, they went elsewhither,Then first leaving hearts behindComfortless. Be thou as kind.

Two white heads the grasses cover:

Dorcas, and her lifelong lover.

While they graced their country closes

Simply as the brooks and roses,

Where was lot so poor, so trodden,

But they cheered it of a sudden?

Fifty years at home together,

Hand in hand, they went elsewhither,

Then first leaving hearts behind

Comfortless. Be thou as kind.

Upon thy level tomb, till windy winter dawn,The fallen leaves delay;But plain and pure their trace is, when themselves are tornFrom delicate frost away.

Upon thy level tomb, till windy winter dawn,

The fallen leaves delay;

But plain and pure their trace is, when themselves are torn

From delicate frost away.

As here to transient frost the absent leaf is, suchThou wert and art to me:So on my passing life is thy long-passèd touch,O dear Alcithoë!

As here to transient frost the absent leaf is, such

Thou wert and art to me:

So on my passing life is thy long-passèd touch,

O dear Alcithoë!

Hail, and be of comfort, thou pious Xeno,Late the urn of many a kinsman wreathing;On thine own shall even the stranger offerPlentiful myrtle.

Hail, and be of comfort, thou pious Xeno,

Late the urn of many a kinsman wreathing;

On thine own shall even the stranger offer

Plentiful myrtle.

VII

Here lies one in the earth who scarce of the earth was moulded,Wise Æthalides’ son, himself no lover of study,Cnopus, asleep, indoors: the young invincible runner.They from the cliff footpath that see on the grave we made him,Tameless, slant in the wind, the bare and beautiful iris,Stop short, full of delight, and shout forth: “See, it is CnopusRuns, with white throat forward, over the sands to Chalcis!”

Here lies one in the earth who scarce of the earth was moulded,

Wise Æthalides’ son, himself no lover of study,

Cnopus, asleep, indoors: the young invincible runner.

They from the cliff footpath that see on the grave we made him,

Tameless, slant in the wind, the bare and beautiful iris,

Stop short, full of delight, and shout forth: “See, it is Cnopus

Runs, with white throat forward, over the sands to Chalcis!”

VIII

Ere the Ferryman from the coast of spiritsTurn the diligent oar that brought thee thither,Soul, remember: and leave a kiss upon itFor thy desolate father, for thy sister,Whichsoever be first to cross hereafter.

Ere the Ferryman from the coast of spirits

Turn the diligent oar that brought thee thither,

Soul, remember: and leave a kiss upon it

For thy desolate father, for thy sister,

Whichsoever be first to cross hereafter.

Jaffa ended, Cos begunThee, Aristeus. Thou wert oneFit to trample out the sun:Who shall think thine ardors areBut a cinder in a jar?

Jaffa ended, Cos begun

Thee, Aristeus. Thou wert one

Fit to trample out the sun:

Who shall think thine ardors are

But a cinder in a jar?

Me, deep-tressèd meadows, take to your loyal keeping,Hard by the swish of sickles ever in Aulon sleeping,Philophron, old and tired, and glad to be done with reaping!

Me, deep-tressèd meadows, take to your loyal keeping,

Hard by the swish of sickles ever in Aulon sleeping,

Philophron, old and tired, and glad to be done with reaping!

As wind that wasteth the unmarried rose,And mars the golden breakers in the bay,Hurtful and sweet from heaven forever blowsSad thought that roughens all our quiet day;

As wind that wasteth the unmarried rose,

And mars the golden breakers in the bay,

Hurtful and sweet from heaven forever blows

Sad thought that roughens all our quiet day;

And elder poets envy while they weepIon, whom first the gods to covert brought,Here under inland olives laid asleep,Most wise, most happy, having done with thought.

And elder poets envy while they weep

Ion, whom first the gods to covert brought,

Here under inland olives laid asleep,

Most wise, most happy, having done with thought.

XII

Cows in the narrowing August marshes,Cows in a stretch of waterMotionless,Neck on neck overlapped and drooping;

Cows in the narrowing August marshes,

Cows in a stretch of water

Motionless,

Neck on neck overlapped and drooping;

These in their troubled and dumb communion,Thou on the steep bank yonder,Pastora!No more ever to lead and love them,

These in their troubled and dumb communion,

Thou on the steep bank yonder,

Pastora!

No more ever to lead and love them,

No more ever. Thine innocent mournersPass thy tree in the eveningHeavily,Hearing another herd-girl calling.

No more ever. Thine innocent mourners

Pass thy tree in the evening

Heavily,

Hearing another herd-girl calling.

XIII

Praise thou the Mighty Mother for what is wrought, not me,A nameless nothing-caring head asleep against her knee.

Praise thou the Mighty Mother for what is wrought, not me,

A nameless nothing-caring head asleep against her knee.

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