***
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]
Offspring of Jove, Calliope, once moreTo the bright Sun, thy hymn of music pour;Whom to the child of star-clad Heaven and EarthEuryphaessa, large-eyed nymph, brought forth;Euryphaessa, the famed sister fair _5Of great Hyperion, who to him did bearA race of loveliest children; the young Morn,Whose arms are like twin roses newly born,The fair-haired Moon, and the immortal Sun,Who borne by heavenly steeds his race doth run _10Unconquerably, illuming the abodesOf mortal Men and the eternal Gods.
Fiercely look forth his awe-inspiring eyes,Beneath his golden helmet, whence ariseAnd are shot forth afar, clear beams of light; _15His countenance, with radiant glory bright,Beneath his graceful locks far shines around,And the light vest with which his limbs are bound,Of woof aethereal delicately twined,Glows in the stream of the uplifting wind. _20His rapid steeds soon bear him to the West;Where their steep flight his hands divine arrest,And the fleet car with yoke of gold, which heSends from bright Heaven beneath the shadowy sea.
***
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]
O universal Mother, who dost keepFrom everlasting thy foundations deep,Eldest of things, Great Earth, I sing of thee!All shapes that have their dwelling in the sea,All things that fly, or on the ground divine _5Live, move, and there are nourished—these are thine;These from thy wealth thou dost sustain; from theeFair babes are born, and fruits on every treeHang ripe and large, revered Divinity!
The life of mortal men beneath thy sway _10Is held; thy power both gives and takes away!Happy are they whom thy mild favours nourish;All things unstinted round them grow and flourish.For them, endures the life-sustaining fieldIts load of harvest, and their cattle yield _15Large increase, and their house with wealth is filled.Such honoured dwell in cities fair and free,The homes of lovely women, prosperously;Their sons exult in youth’s new budding gladness,And their fresh daughters free from care or sadness, _20With bloom-inwoven dance and happy song,On the soft flowers the meadow-grass among,Leap round them sporting—such delights by theeAre given, rich Power, revered Divinity.
Mother of gods, thou Wife of starry Heaven, _25Farewell! be thou propitious, and be givenA happy life for this brief melody,Nor thou nor other songs shall unremembered be.
***
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 2nd edition; dated 1818.]
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise,Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid,Revered and mighty; from his awful headWhom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour dressed, _5Golden, all radiant! wonder strange possessedThe everlasting Gods that Shape to see,Shaking a javelin keen, impetuouslyRush from the crest of Aegis-bearing Jove;Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move _10Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed;Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide;And, lifted from its depths, the sea swelled highIn purple billows, the tide suddenlyStood still, and great Hyperion’s son long time _15Checked his swift steeds, till, where she stood sublime,Pallas from her immortal shoulders threwThe arms divine; wise Jove rejoiced to view.Child of the Aegis-bearer, hail to thee,Nor thine nor others’ praise shall unremembered be. _20
***
[Published by Garnett, “Relics of Shelley”, 1862; dated 1818.]
Muse, sing the deeds of golden Aphrodite,Who wakens with her smile the lulled delightOf sweet desire, taming the eternal kingsOf Heaven, and men, and all the living thingsThat fleet along the air, or whom the sea, _5Or earth, with her maternal ministry,Nourish innumerable, thy delightAll seek … O crowned Aphrodite!Three spirits canst thou not deceive or quell:—Minerva, child of Jove, who loves too well _10Fierce war and mingling combat, and the fameOf glorious deeds, to heed thy gentle flame.Diana … golden-shafted queen,Is tamed not by thy smiles; the shadows greenOf the wild woods, the bow, the… _15And piercing cries amid the swift pursuitOf beasts among waste mountains,—such delightIs hers, and men who know and do the right.Nor Saturn’s first-born daughter, Vesta chaste,Whom Neptune and Apollo wooed the last, _20Such was the will of aegis-bearing Jove;But sternly she refused the ills of Love,And by her mighty Father’s head she sworeAn oath not unperformed, that evermoreA virgin she would live mid deities _25Divine: her father, for such gentle tiesRenounced, gave glorious gifts—thus in his hallShe sits and feeds luxuriously. O’er allIn every fane, her honours first ariseFrom men—the eldest of Divinities. _30
These spirits she persuades not, nor deceives,But none beside escape, so well she weavesHer unseen toils; nor mortal men, nor godsWho live secure in their unseen abodes.She won the soul of him whose fierce delight _35Is thunder—first in glory and in might.And, as she willed, his mighty mind deceiving,With mortal limbs his deathless limbs inweaving,Concealed him from his spouse and sister fair,Whom to wise Saturn ancient Rhea bare. _40but in return,In Venus Jove did soft desire awaken,That by her own enchantments overtaken,She might, no more from human union free,Burn for a nursling of mortality. _45For once amid the assembled Deities,The laughter-loving Venus from her eyes
Shot forth the light of a soft starlight smile,And boasting said, that she, secure the while,Could bring at Will to the assembled Gods _50The mortal tenants of earth’s dark abodes,And mortal offspring from a deathless stemShe could produce in scorn and spite of them.Therefore he poured desire into her breastOf young Anchises, _55Feeding his herds among the mossy fountainsOf the wide Ida’s many-folded mountains,—Whom Venus saw, and loved, and the love clungLike wasting fire her senses wild among.
***
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824; dated 1819. Amongst the Shelley manuscripts at the Bodleian there is a copy, ‘practically complete,’ which has been collated by Mr. C.D. Locock. See “Examination”, etc., 1903, pages 64-70. ‘Though legible throughout, and comparatively free from corrections, it has the appearance of being a first draft’ (Locock).]
SILENUS:O Bacchus, what a world of toil, both nowAnd ere these limbs were overworn with age,Have I endured for thee! First, when thou fled’stThe mountain-nymphs who nursed thee, driven afarBy the strange madness Juno sent upon thee; _5Then in the battle of the Sons of Earth,When I stood foot by foot close to thy side,No unpropitious fellow-combatant,And, driving through his shield my winged spear,Slew vast Enceladus. Consider now, _10Is it a dream of which I speak to thee?By Jove it is not, for you have the trophies!And now I suffer more than all before.For when I heard that Juno had devisedA tedious voyage for you, I put to sea _15With all my children quaint in search of you,And I myself stood on the beaked prowAnd fixed the naked mast; and all my boysLeaning upon their oars, with splash and strainMade white with foam the green and purple sea,— _20And so we sought you, king. We were sailingNear Malea, when an eastern wind arose,And drove us to this waste Aetnean rock;The one-eyed children of the Ocean God,The man-destroying Cyclopses, inhabit, _25On this wild shore, their solitary caves,And one of these, named Polypheme, has caught usTo be his slaves; and so, for all delightOf Bacchic sports, sweet dance and melody,We keep this lawless giant’s wandering flocks. _30My sons indeed on far declivities,Young things themselves, tend on the youngling sheep,But I remain to fill the water-casks,Or sweeping the hard floor, or ministeringSome impious and abominable meal _35To the fell Cyclops. I am wearied of it!And now I must scrape up the littered floorWith this great iron rake, so to receiveMy absent master and his evening sheepIn a cave neat and clean. Even now I see _40My children tending the flocks hitherward.Ha! what is this? are your Sicinnian measuresEven now the same, as when with dance and songYou brought young Bacchus to Althaea’s halls?
NOTE: _23 waste B.; wild 1824; ‘cf. 26, where waste is cancelled for wild’ (Locock).
STROPHE:Where has he of race divine _45Wandered in the winding rocks?Here the air is calm and fineFor the father of the flocks;—Here the grass is soft and sweet,And the river-eddies meet _50In the trough beside the cave,Bright as in their fountain wave.—Neither here, nor on the dewOf the lawny uplands feeding?Oh, you come!—a stone at you _55Will I throw to mend your breeding;—Get along, you horned thing,Wild, seditious, rambling!
EPODE:An Iacchic melodyTo the golden Aphrodite _60Will I lift, as erst did ISeeking her and her delightWith the Maenads, whose white feetTo the music glance and fleet.Bacchus, O beloved, where, _65Shaking wide thy yellow hair,Wanderest thou alone, afar?To the one-eyed Cyclops, we,Who by right thy servants are,Minister in misery, _70In these wretched goat-skins clad,Far from thy delights and thee.
SILENUS:Be silent, sons; command the slaves to driveThe gathered flocks into the rock-roofed cave.
CHORUS:Go! But what needs this serious haste, O father? _75
SILENUS:I see a Grecian vessel on the coast,And thence the rowers with some generalApproaching to this cave.—About their necksHang empty vessels, as they wanted food,And water-flasks.—Oh, miserable strangers! _80Whence come they, that they know not what and whoMy master is, approaching in ill hourThe inhospitable roof of Polypheme,And the Cyclopian jaw-bone, man-destroying?Be silent, Satyrs, while I ask and hear _85Whence coming, they arrive the Aetnean hill.
ULYSSES:Friends, can you show me some clear water-spring,The remedy of our thirst? Will any oneFurnish with food seamen in want of it?Ha! what is this? We seem to be arrived _90At the blithe court of Bacchus. I observeThis sportive band of Satyrs near the caves.First let me greet the elder.—Hail!
SILENUS:Hail thou,O Stranger! tell thy country and thy race.
ULYSSES:The Ithacan Ulysses and the king _95Of Cephalonia.
SILENUS:Oh! I know the man,Wordy and shrewd, the son of Sisyphus.
ULYSSES:I am the same, but do not rail upon me.—
SILENUS:Whence sailing do you come to Sicily?
ULYSSES:From Ilion, and from the Trojan toils. _100
SILENUS:How, touched you not at your paternal shore?
ULYSSES:The strength of tempests bore me here by force.
SILENUS:The self-same accident occurred to me.
ULYSSES:Were you then driven here by stress of weather?
SILENUS:Following the Pirates who had kidnapped Bacchus. _105
ULYSSES:What land is this, and who inhabit it?—
SILENUS:Aetna, the loftiest peak in Sicily.
ULYSSES:And are there walls, and tower-surrounded towns?
SILENUS:There are not.—These lone rocks are bare of men.
ULYSSES:And who possess the land? the race of beasts? _110
SILENUS:Cyclops, who live in caverns, not in houses.
ULYSSES:Obeying whom? Or is the state popular?
SILENUS:Shepherds: no one obeys any in aught.
ULYSSES:How live they? do they sow the corn of Ceres?
SILENUS:On milk and cheese, and on the flesh of sheep. _115
ULYSSES:Have they the Bromian drink from the vine’s stream?
SILENUS:Ah! no; they live in an ungracious land.
ULYSSES:And are they just to strangers?—hospitable?
SILENUS:They think the sweetest thing a stranger bringsIs his own flesh.
ULYSSES:What! do they eat man’s flesh? _120
SILENUS:No one comes here who is not eaten up.
ULYSSES:The Cyclops now—where is he? Not at home?
SILENUS:Absent on Aetna, hunting with his dogs.
ULYSSES:Know’st thou what thou must do to aid us hence?
SILENUS:I know not: we will help you all we can. _125
ULYSSES:Provide us food, of which we are in want.
SILENUS:Here is not anything, as I said, but meat.
ULYSSES:But meat is a sweet remedy for hunger.
SILENUS:Cow’s milk there is, and store of curdled cheese.
ULYSSES:Bring out:—I would see all before I bargain. _130
SILENUS:But how much gold will you engage to give?
ULYSSES:I bring no gold, but Bacchic juice.
SILENUS:Oh, joy!Tis long since these dry lips were wet with wine.
ULYSSES:Maron, the son of the God, gave it me.
SILENUS:Whom I have nursed a baby in my arms. _135
ULYSSES:The son of Bacchus, for your clearer knowledge.
SILENUS:Have you it now?—or is it in the ship?
ULYSSES:Old man, this skin contains it, which you see.
SILENUS:Why, this would hardly be a mouthful for me.
ULYSSES:Nay, twice as much as you can draw from thence. _140
SILENUS:You speak of a fair fountain, sweet to me.
ULYSSES:Would you first taste of the unmingled wine?
SILENUS:’Tis just—tasting invites the purchaser.
ULYSSES:Here is the cup, together with the skin.
SILENUS:Pour: that the draught may fillip my remembrance.
ULYSSES:See! _145
SILENUS:Papaiapax! what a sweet smell it has!
ULYSSES:You see it then?—
SILENUS:By Jove, no! but I smell it.
ULYSSES:Taste, that you may not praise it in words only.
SILENUS:Babai! Great Bacchus calls me forth to dance!Joy! joy!
ULYSSES:Did it flow sweetly down your throat? _150
SILENUS:So that it tingled to my very nails.
ULYSSES:And in addition I will give you gold.
SILENUS:Let gold alone! only unlock the cask.
ULYSSES:Bring out some cheeses now, or a young goat.
SILENUS:That will I do, despising any master. _155Yes, let me drink one cup, and I will giveAll that the Cyclops feed upon their mountains.
…
CHORUS:Ye have taken Troy and laid your hands on Helen?
ULYSSES:And utterly destroyed the race of Priam.
…
SILENUS:The wanton wretch! she was bewitched to see _160The many-coloured anklets and the chainOf woven gold which girt the neck of Paris,And so she left that good man Menelaus.There should be no more women in the worldBut such as are reserved for me alone.— _165See, here are sheep, and here are goats, Ulysses,Here are unsparing cheeses of pressed milk;Take them; depart with what good speed ye may;First leaving my reward, the Bacchic dewOf joy-inspiring grapes.
ULYSSES:Ah me! Alas! _170What shall we do? the Cyclops is at hand!Old man, we perish! whither can we fly?
SILENUS:Hide yourselves quick within that hollow rock.
ULYSSES:’Twere perilous to fly into the net.
SILENUS:The cavern has recesses numberless; _175Hide yourselves quick.
ULYSSES:That will I never do!The mighty Troy would be indeed disgracedIf I should fly one man. How many timesHave I withstood, with shield immovable.Ten thousand Phrygians!—if I needs must die, _180Yet will I die with glory;—if I live,The praise which I have gained will yet remain.
SILENUS:What, ho! assistance, comrades, haste, assistance!
CYCLOPS:What is this tumult? Bacchus is not here,Nor tympanies nor brazen castanets. _185How are my young lambs in the cavern? MilkingTheir dams or playing by their sides? And isThe new cheese pressed into the bulrush baskets?Speak! I’ll beat some of you till you rain tears—Look up, not downwards when I speak to you. _190
SILENUS:See! I now gape at Jupiter himself;I stare upon Orion and the stars.
CYCLOPS:Well, is the dinner fitly cooked and laid?
SILENUS:All ready, if your throat is ready too.
CYCLOPS:Are the bowls full of milk besides?
SILENUS:O’er-brimming; _195So you may drink a tunful if you will.
CYCLOPS:Is it ewe’s milk or cow’s milk, or both mixed?—
SILENUS:Both, either; only pray don’t swallow me.
CYCLOPS:By no means.—…What is this crowd I see beside the stalls? _200Outlaws or thieves? for near my cavern-homeI see my young lambs coupled two by twoWith willow bands; mixed with my cheeses lieTheir implements; and this old fellow hereHas his bald head broken with stripes.
SILENUS:Ah me! _205I have been beaten till I burn with fever.
CYCLOPS:By whom? Who laid his fist upon your head?
SILENUS:Those men, because I would not suffer themTo steal your goods.
CYCLOPS:Did not the rascals knowI am a God, sprung from the race of Heaven? _210
SILENUS:I told them so, but they bore off your things,And ate the cheese in spite of all I said,And carried out the lambs—and said, moreover,They’d pin you down with a three-cubit collar,And pull your vitals out through your one eye, _215Furrow your back with stripes, then, binding you,Throw you as ballast into the ship’s hold,And then deliver you, a slave, to moveEnormous rocks, or found a vestibule.
NOTE: _216 Furrow B.; Torture (evidently misread for Furrow) 1824.
CYCLOPS:In truth? Nay, haste, and place in order quicklyThe cooking-knives, and heap upon the hearth, _221And kindle it, a great faggot of wood.—As soon as they are slaughtered, they shall fillMy belly, broiling warm from the live coals,Or boiled and seethed within the bubbling caldron. _225I am quite sick of the wild mountain game;Of stags and lions I have gorged enough,And I grow hungry for the flesh of men.
SILENUS:Nay, master, something new is very pleasantAfter one thing forever, and of late _230Very few strangers have approached our cave.
ULYSSES:Hear, Cyclops, a plain tale on the other side.We, wanting to buy food, came from our shipInto the neighbourhood of your cave, and hereThis old Silenus gave us in exchange _235These lambs for wine, the which he took and drank,And all by mutual compact, without force.There is no word of truth in what he says,For slyly he was selling all your store.
SILENUS:I? May you perish, wretch—
ULYSSES:If I speak false! _240
SILENUS:Cyclops, I swear by Neptune who begot thee,By mighty Triton and by Nereus old,Calypso and the glaucous Ocean Nymphs,The sacred waves and all the race of fishes—Be these the witnesses, my dear sweet master, _245My darling little Cyclops, that I neverGave any of your stores to these false strangers;—If I speak false may those whom most I love,My children, perish wretchedly!
CHORUS:There stop!I saw him giving these things to the strangers. _250If I speak false, then may my father perish,But do not thou wrong hospitality.
CYCLOPS:You lie! I swear that he is juster farThan Rhadamanthus—I trust more in him.But let me ask, whence have ye sailed, O strangers? _255Who are you? And what city nourished ye?
ULYSSES:Our race is Ithacan—having destroyedThe town of Troy, the tempests of the seaHave driven us on thy land, O Polypheme.
CYCLOPS:What, have ye shared in the unenvied spoil _260Of the false Helen, near Scamander’s stream?
ULYSSES:The same, having endured a woful toil.
CYCLOPS:Oh, basest expedition! sailed ye notFrom Greece to Phrygia for one woman’s sake?
ULYSSES:’Twas the Gods’ work—no mortal was in fault. _265But, O great Offspring of the Ocean-King,We pray thee and admonish thee with freedom,That thou dost spare thy friends who visit thee,And place no impious food within thy jaws.For in the depths of Greece we have upreared _270Temples to thy great Father, which are allHis homes. The sacred bay of TaenarusRemains inviolate, and each dim recessScooped high on the Malean promontory,And aery Sunium’s silver-veined crag, _275Which divine Pallas keeps unprofaned ever,The Gerastian asylums, and whate’erWithin wide Greece our enterprise has keptFrom Phrygian contumely; and in whichYou have a common care, for you inhabit _280The skirts of Grecian land, under the rootsOf Aetna and its crags, spotted with fire.Turn then to converse under human laws,Receive us shipwrecked suppliants, and provideFood, clothes, and fire, and hospitable gifts; _285Nor fixing upon oxen-piercing spitsOur limbs, so fill your belly and your jaws.Priam’s wide land has widowed Greece enough;And weapon-winged murder leaped togetherEnough of dead, and wives are husbandless, _290And ancient women and gray fathers wailTheir childless age;—if you should roast the rest—And ’tis a bitter feast that you prepare—Where then would any turn? Yet be persuaded;Forgo the lust of your jaw-bone; prefer _295Pious humanity to wicked will:Many have bought too dear their evil joys.
SILENUS:Let me advise you, do not spare a morselOf all his flesh. If you should eat his tongueYou would become most eloquent, O Cyclops. _300
CYCLOPS:Wealth, my good fellow, is the wise man’s God,All other things are a pretence and boast.What are my father’s ocean promontories,The sacred rocks whereon he dwells, to me?Stranger, I laugh to scorn Jove’s thunderbolt, _305I know not that his strength is more than mine.As to the rest I care not.—When he poursRain from above, I have a close pavilionUnder this rock, in which I lie supine,Feasting on a roast calf or some wild beast, _310And drinking pans of milk, and gloriouslyEmulating the thunder of high Heaven.And when the Thracian wind pours down the snow,I wrap my body in the skins of beasts,Kindle a fire, and bid the snow whirl on. _315The earth, by force, whether it will or no,Bringing forth grass, fattens my flocks and herds,Which, to what other God but to myselfAnd this great belly, first of deities,Should I be bound to sacrifice? I well know _320The wise man’s only Jupiter is this,To eat and drink during his little day,And give himself no care. And as for thoseWho complicate with laws the life of man,I freely give them tears for their reward. _325I will not cheat my soul of its delight,Or hesitate in dining upon you:—And that I may be quit of all demands,These are my hospitable gifts;—fierce fireAnd yon ancestral caldron, which o’er-bubbling _330Shall finely cook your miserable flesh.Creep in!—
…
ULYSSES:Ai! ai! I have escaped the Trojan toils,I have escaped the sea, and now I fallUnder the cruel grasp of one impious man. _335O Pallas, Mistress, Goddess, sprung from Jove,Now, now, assist me! Mightier toils than TroyAre these;—I totter on the chasms of peril;—And thou who inhabitest the thronesOf the bright stars, look, hospitable Jove, _340Upon this outrage of thy deity,Otherwise be considered as no God!
CHORUS (ALONE):For your gaping gulf and your gullet wide,The ravin is ready on every side,The limbs of the strangers are cooked and done; _345There is boiled meat, and roast meat, and meat from the coal,You may chop it, and tear it, and gnash it for fun,An hairy goat’s-skin contains the whole.Let me but escape, and ferry me o’erThe stream of your wrath to a safer shore. _350The Cyclops Aetnean is cruel and bold,He murders the strangersThat sit on his hearth,And dreads no avengersTo rise from the earth. _355He roasts the men before they are cold,He snatches them broiling from the coal,And from the caldron pulls them whole,And minces their flesh and gnaws their boneWith his cursed teeth, till all be gone. _360Farewell, foul pavilion:Farewell, rites of dread!The Cyclops vermilion,With slaughter uncloying,Now feasts on the dead, _365In the flesh of strangers joying!
NOTE: _344 ravin Rossetti; spelt ravine in B., editions 1824, 1839.
ULYSSES:O Jupiter! I saw within the caveHorrible things; deeds to be feigned in words,But not to be believed as being done.
NOTE: _369 not to be believed B.; not believed 1824.
CHORUS:What! sawest thou the impious Polypheme _370Feasting upon your loved companions now?
ULYSSES:Selecting two, the plumpest of the crowd,He grasped them in his hands.—
CHORUS:Unhappy man!
…
ULYSSES:Soon as we came into this craggy place,Kindling a fire, he cast on the broad hearth _375The knotty limbs of an enormous oak,Three waggon-loads at least, and then he strewedUpon the ground, beside the red firelight,His couch of pine-leaves; and he milked the cows,And pouring forth the white milk, filled a bowl _380Three cubits wide and four in depth, as muchAs would contain ten amphorae, and bound itWith ivy wreaths; then placed upon the fireA brazen pot to boil, and made red hotThe points of spits, not sharpened with the sickle _385But with a fruit tree bough, and with the jawsOf axes for Aetnean slaughterings.And when this God-abandoned Cook of HellHad made all ready, he seized two of usAnd killed them in a kind of measured manner; _390For he flung one against the brazen rivetsOf the huge caldron, and seized the otherBy the foot’s tendon, and knocked out his brainsUpon the sharp edge of the craggy stone:Then peeled his flesh with a great cooking-knife _395And put him down to roast. The other’s limbsHe chopped into the caldron to be boiled.And I, with the tears raining from my eyes,Stood near the Cyclops, ministering to him;The rest, in the recesses of the cave, _400Clung to the rock like bats, bloodless with fear.When he was filled with my companions’ flesh,He threw himself upon the ground and sentA loathsome exhalation from his maw.Then a divine thought came to me. I filled _405The cup of Maron, and I offered himTo taste, and said:—‘Child of the Ocean God,Behold what drink the vines of Greece produce,The exultation and the joy of Bacchus.’He, satiated with his unnatural food, _410Received it, and at one draught drank it off,And taking my hand, praised me:—‘Thou hast givenA sweet draught after a sweet meal, dear guest.’And I, perceiving that it pleased him, filledAnother cup, well knowing that the wine _415Would wound him soon and take a sure revenge.And the charm fascinated him, and IPlied him cup after cup, until the drinkHad warmed his entrails, and he sang aloudIn concert with my wailing fellow-seamen _420A hideous discord—and the cavern rung.I have stolen out, so that if you willYou may achieve my safety and your own.But say, do you desire, or not, to flyThis uncompanionable man, and dwell _425As was your wont among the Grecian NymphsWithin the fanes of your beloved God?Your father there within agrees to it,But he is weak and overcome with wine,And caught as if with bird-lime by the cup, _430He claps his wings and crows in doting joy.You who are young escape with me, and findBacchus your ancient friend; unsuited heTo this rude Cyclops.
NOTES: _382 ten cj. Swinburne; four 1824; four cancelled for ten (possibly) B. _387 I confess I do not understand this.—[SHELLEY’S NOTE.] _416 take]grant (as alternative) B.
CHORUS:Oh my dearest friend,That I could see that day, and leave for ever _435The impious Cyclops.
…
ULYSSES:Listen then what a punishment I haveFor this fell monster, how secure a flightFrom your hard servitude.
CHORUS:O sweeter farThan is the music of an Asian lyre _440Would be the news of Polypheme destroyed.
ULYSSES:Delighted with the Bacchic drink he goesTo call his brother Cyclops—who inhabitA village upon Aetna not far off.
CHORUS:I understand, catching him when alone _445You think by some measure to dispatch him,Or thrust him from the precipice.
NOTE: _446 by some measure 1824; with some measures B.
ULYSSES:Oh no;Nothing of that kind; my device is subtle.
CHORUS:How then? I heard of old that thou wert wise.
ULYSSES:I will dissuade him from this plan, by saying _450It were unwise to give the CyclopsesThis precious drink, which if enjoyed aloneWould make life sweeter for a longer time.When, vanquished by the Bacchic power, he sleeps,There is a trunk of olive wood within, _455Whose point having made sharp with this good swordI will conceal in fire, and when I seeIt is alight, will fix it, burning yet,Within the socket of the Cyclops’ eyeAnd melt it out with fire—as when a man _460Turns by its handle a great auger round,Fitting the framework of a ship with beams,So will I, in the Cyclops’ fiery eyeTurn round the brand and dry the pupil up.
CHORUS:Joy! I am mad with joy at your device. _465
ULYSSES:And then with you, my friends, and the old man,We’ll load the hollow depth of our black ship,And row with double strokes from this dread shore.
CHORUS:May I, as in libations to a God,Share in the blinding him with the red brand? _470I would have some communion in his death.
ULYSSES:Doubtless: the brand is a great brand to hold.
CHORUS:Oh! I would lift an hundred waggon-loads,If like a wasp’s nest I could scoop the eye outOf the detested Cyclops.
ULYSSES:Silence now! _475Ye know the close device—and when I call,Look ye obey the masters of the craft.I will not save myself and leave behindMy comrades in the cave: I might escape,Having got clear from that obscure recess, _480But ’twere unjust to leave in jeopardyThe dear companions who sailed here with me.
CHORUS:Come! who is first, that with his handWill urge down the burning brandThrough the lids, and quench and pierce _485The Cyclops’ eye so fiery fierce?
SEMICHORUS 1 [SONG WITHIN]:Listen! listen! he is coming,A most hideous discord humming.Drunken, museless, awkward, yelling,Far along his rocky dwelling; _490Let us with some comic spellTeach the yet unteachable.By all means he must be blinded,If my counsel be but minded.
SEMICHORUS 2:Happy thou made odorous _495With the dew which sweet grapes weep,To the village hastening thus,Seek the vines that soothe to sleep;Having first embraced thy friend,Thou in luxury without end, _500With the strings of yellow hair,Of thy voluptuous leman fair,Shalt sit playing on a bed!—Speak! what door is opened?
NOTES: _495 thou cj. Swinburne, Rossetti; those 1824; ‘the word is doubtful in B.’ (Locock). _500 Thou B.; There 1824.
CYCLOPS:Ha! ha! ha! I’m full of wine, _505Heavy with the joy divine,With the young feast oversated;Like a merchant’s vessel freightedTo the water’s edge, my cropIs laden to the gullet’s top. _510The fresh meadow grass of springTempts me forth thus wanderingTo my brothers on the mountains,Who shall share the wine’s sweet fountains.Bring the cask, O stranger, bring! _515
NOTE: _508 merchant’s 1824; merchant B.
CHORUS:One with eyes the fairestCometh from his dwelling;Some one loves thee, rarestBright beyond my telling.In thy grace thou shinest _520Like some nymph divinestIn her caverns dewy:—All delights pursue thee,Soon pied flowers, sweet-breathing,Shall thy head be wreathing. _525
ULYSSES:Listen, O Cyclops, for I am well skilledIn Bacchus, whom I gave thee of to drink.
CYCLOPS:What sort of God is Bacchus then accounted?
ULYSSES:The greatest among men for joy of life.
CYCLOPS:I gulped him down with very great delight. _530
ULYSSES:This is a God who never injures men.
CYCLOPS:How does the God like living in a skin?
ULYSSES:He is content wherever he is put.
CYCLOPS:Gods should not have their body in a skin.
ULYSSES:If he gives joy, what is his skin to you? _535
CYCLOPS:I hate the skin, but love the wine within.
ULYSSES:Stay here now: drink, and make your spirit glad.
NOTE: _537 Stay here now, drink B.; stay here, now drink 1824.
CYCLOPS:Should I not share this liquor with my brothers?
ULYSSES:Keep it yourself, and be more honoured so.
CYCLOPS:I were more useful, giving to my friends. _540
ULYSSES:But village mirth breeds contests, broils, and blows.
CYCLOPS:When I am drunk none shall lay hands on me.—
ULYSSES:A drunken man is better within doors.
CYCLOPS:He is a fool, who drinking, loves not mirth.
ULYSSES:But he is wise, who drunk, remains at home. _545
CYCLOPS:What shall I do, Silenus? Shall I stay?
SILENUS:Stay—for what need have you of pot companions?
CYCLOPS:Indeed this place is closely carpetedWith flowers and grass.
SILENUS:And in the sun-warm noon’Tis sweet to drink. Lie down beside me now, _550Placing your mighty sides upon the ground.
CYCLOPS:What do you put the cup behind me for?
SILENUS:That no one here may touch it.
CYCLOPS:Thievish One!You want to drink;—here place it in the midst.And thou, O stranger, tell how art thou called? _555
ULYSSES:My name is Nobody. What favour nowShall I receive to praise you at your hands?
CYCLOPS:I’ll feast on you the last of your companions.
ULYSSES:You grant your guest a fair reward, O Cyclops.
CYCLOPS:Ha! what is this? Stealing the wine, you rogue! _560
SILENUS:It was this stranger kissing me becauseI looked so beautiful.
CYCLOPS:You shall repentFor kissing the coy wine that loves you not.
SILENUS:By Jupiter! you said that I am fair.
CYCLOPS:Pour out, and only give me the cup full. _565
SILENUS:How is it mixed? let me observe.
CYCLOPS:Curse you!Give it me so.
SILENUS:Not till I see you wearThat coronal, and taste the cup to you.
CYCLOPS:Thou wily traitor!
SILENUS:But the wine is sweet.Ay, you will roar if you are caught in drinking. _570
CYCLOPS:See now, my lip is clean and all my beard.
SILENUS:Now put your elbow right and drink again.As you see me drink—…
CYCLOPS:How now?
SILENUS:Ye Gods, what a delicious gulp!
CYCLOPS:Guest, take it;—you pour out the wine for me. _575
ULYSSES:The wine is well accustomed to my hand.
CYCLOPS:Pour out the wine!
ULYSSES:I pour; only be silent.
CYCLOPS:Silence is a hard task to him who drinks.
ULYSSES:Take it and drink it off; leave not a dreg.Oh that the drinker died with his own draught! _580
CYCLOPS:Papai! the vine must be a sapient plant.
ULYSSES:If you drink much after a mighty feast,Moistening your thirsty maw, you will sleep well;If you leave aught, Bacchus will dry you up.
CYCLOPS:Ho! ho! I can scarce rise. What pure delight! _585The heavens and earth appear to whirl aboutConfusedly. I see the throne of JoveAnd the clear congregation of the Gods.Now if the Graces tempted me to kissI would not—for the loveliest of them all _590I would not leave this Ganymede.
SILENUS:Polypheme,I am the Ganymede of Jupiter.
CYCLOPS:By Jove, you are; I bore you off from Dardanus.
…
ULYSSES:Come, boys of Bacchus, children of high race,This man within is folded up in sleep, _595And soon will vomit flesh from his fell maw;The brand under the shed thrusts out its smoke,No preparation needs, but to burn outThe monster’s eye;—but bear yourselves like men.
CHORUS:We will have courage like the adamant rock, _600All things are ready for you here; go in,Before our father shall perceive the noise.
ULYSSES:Vulcan, Aetnean king! burn out with fireThe shining eye of this thy neighbouring monster!And thou, O Sleep, nursling of gloomy Night, _605Descend unmixed on this God-hated beast,And suffer not Ulysses and his comrades,Returning from their famous Trojan toils,To perish by this man, who cares not eitherFor God or mortal; or I needs must think _610That Chance is a supreme divinity,And things divine are subject to her power.
NOTE: _606 God-hated 1824; God-hating (as an alternative) B.
CHORUS:Soon a crab the throat will seizeOf him who feeds upon his guest,Fire will burn his lamp-like eyes _615In revenge of such a feast!A great oak stump now is lyingIn the ashes yet undying.Come, Maron, come!Raging let him fix the doom, _620Let him tear the eyelid upOf the Cyclops—that his cupMay be evil!Oh! I long to dance and revelWith sweet Bromian, long desired, _625In loved ivy wreaths attired;Leaving this abandoned home—Will the moment ever come?
ULYSSES:Be silent, ye wild things! Nay, hold your peace,And keep your lips quite close; dare not to breathe, _630Or spit, or e’en wink, lest ye wake the monster,Until his eye be tortured out with fire.
CHORUS:Nay, we are silent, and we chaw the air.
ULYSSES:Come now, and lend a hand to the great stakeWithin—it is delightfully red hot. _635
CHORUS:You then command who first should seize the stakeTo burn the Cyclops’ eye, that all may shareIn the great enterprise.
SEMICHORUS 1:We are too far;We cannot at this distance from the doorThrust fire into his eye.
SEMICHORUS 2:And we just now _640Have become lame! cannot move hand or foot.
CHORUS:The same thing has occurred to us,—our anklesAre sprained with standing here, I know not how.
ULYSSES:What, sprained with standing still?
CHORUS:And there is dustOr ashes in our eyes, I know not whence. _645
ULYSSES:Cowardly dogs! ye will not aid me then?
CHORUS:With pitying my own back and my back-bone,And with not wishing all my teeth knocked out,This cowardice comes of itself—but stay,I know a famous Orphic incantation _650To make the brand stick of its own accordInto the skull of this one-eyed son of Earth.
ULYSSES:Of old I knew ye thus by nature; nowI know ye better.—I will use the aidOf my own comrades. Yet though weak of hand _655Speak cheerfully, that so ye may awakenThe courage of my friends with your blithe words.
CHORUS:This I will do with peril of my life,And blind you with my exhortations, Cyclops.Hasten and thrust, _660And parch up to dust,The eye of the beastWho feeds on his guest.Burn and blindThe Aetnean hind! _665Scoop and draw,But beware lest he clawYour limbs near his maw.
CYCLOPS:Ah me! my eyesight is parched up to cinders.
CHORUS:What a sweet paean! sing me that again! _670
CYCLOPS:Ah me! indeed, what woe has fallen upon me!But, wretched nothings, think ye not to fleeOut of this rock; I, standing at the outlet,Will bar the way and catch you as you pass.
CHORUS:What are you roaring out, Cyclops?
CYCLOPS:I perish! _675
CHORUS:For you are wicked.
CYCLOPS:And besides miserable.
CHORUS:What, did you fall into the fire when drunk?
CYCLOPS:’Twas Nobody destroyed me.
CHORUS:Why then no oneCan be to blame.
CYCLOPS:I say ’twas NobodyWho blinded me.
CHORUS:Why then you are not blind. _680
CYCLOPS:I wish you were as blind as I am.
CHORUS:Nay,It cannot be that no one made you blind.
CYCLOPS:You jeer me; where, I ask, is Nobody?
CHORUS:Nowhere, O Cyclops.
CYCLOPS:It was that stranger ruined me:—the wretch _685First gave me wine and then burned out my eye,For wine is strong and hard to struggle with.Have they escaped, or are they yet within?
CHORUS:They stand under the darkness of the rockAnd cling to it.
CYCLOPS:At my right hand or left? _690
CHORUS:Close on your right.
CYCLOPS:Where?
CHORUS:Near the rock itself.You have them.
CYCLOPS:Oh, misfortune on misfortune!I’ve cracked my skull.
CHORUS:Now they escape you—there.
NOTE: _693 So B.; Now they escape you there 1824.
CYCLOPS:Not there, although you say so.
CHORUS:Not on that side.
CYCLOPS:Where then?
CHORUS:They creep about you on your left. _695
CYCLOPS:Ah! I am mocked! They jeer me in my ills.
CHORUS:Not there! he is a little there beyond you.
CYCLOPS:Detested wretch! where are you?
ULYSSES:Far from youI keep with care this body of Ulysses.
CYCLOPS:What do you say? You proffer a new name. _700
ULYSSES:My father named me so; and I have takenA full revenge for your unnatural feast;I should have done ill to have burned down TroyAnd not revenged the murder of my comrades.
CYCLOPS:Ai! ai! the ancient oracle is accomplished; _705It said that I should have my eyesight blindedBy your coming from Troy, yet it foretoldThat you should pay the penalty for thisBy wandering long over the homeless sea.
ULYSSES:I bid thee weep—consider what I say; _710I go towards the shore to drive my shipTo mine own land, o’er the Sicilian wave.
CYCLOPS:Not so, if, whelming you with this huge stone,I can crush you and all your men together;I will descend upon the shore, though blind, _715Groping my way adown the steep ravine.
CHORUS:And we, the shipmates of Ulysses now,Will serve our Bacchus all our happy lives.
***
[These four Epigrams were published—numbers 2 and 4 without title—byMrs. Shelley, “Poetical Works”, 1839, 1st edition.]
Thou wert the morning star among the living,Ere thy fair light had fled;—Now, having died, thou art as Hesperus, givingNew splendour to the dead.
Kissing Helena, togetherWith my kiss, my soul beside itCame to my lips, and there I kept it,—For the poor thing had wandered thither,To follow where the kiss should guide it, _5Oh, cruel I, to intercept it!
Eagle! why soarest thou above that tomb?To what sublime and star-ypaven homeFloatest thou?—I am the image of swift Plato’s spirit,Ascending heaven; Athens doth inherit _5His corpse below.
NOTE: _5 doth Boscombe manuscript; does edition 1839.
A man who was about to hang himself,Finding a purse, then threw away his rope;The owner, coming to reclaim his pelf,The halter found; and used it. So is HopeChanged for Despair—one laid upon the shelf, _5We take the other. Under Heaven’s high copeFortune is God—all you endure and doDepends on circumstance as much as you.
***
[Published by Forman, “Poetical Works of P. B. S.”, 1876.]
I mourn Adonis dead—loveliest Adonis—Dead, dead Adonis—and the Loves lament.Sleep no more, Venus, wrapped in purple woof—Wake violet-stoled queen, and weave the crownOf Death,—’tis Misery calls,—for he is dead. _5
The lovely one lies wounded in the mountains,His white thigh struck with the white tooth; he scarceYet breathes; and Venus hangs in agony there.The dark blood wanders o’er his snowy limbs,His eyes beneath their lids are lustreless, _10The rose has fled from his wan lips, and thereThat kiss is dead, which Venus gathers yet.
A deep, deep wound Adonis…A deeper Venus bears upon her heart.See, his beloved dogs are gathering round— _15The Oread nymphs are weeping—AphroditeWith hair unbound is wandering through the woods,‘Wildered, ungirt, unsandalled—the thorns pierceHer hastening feet and drink her sacred blood.Bitterly screaming out, she is driven on _20Through the long vales; and her Assyrian boy,Her love, her husband, calls—the purple bloodFrom his struck thigh stains her white navel now,Her bosom, and her neck before like snow.
Alas for Cytherea—the Loves mourn— _25The lovely, the beloved is gone!—and nowHer sacred beauty vanishes away.For Venus whilst Adonis lived was fair—Alas! her loveliness is dead with him.The oaks and mountains cry, Ai! ai! Adonis! _30The springs their waters change to tears and weep—The flowers are withered up with grief…
Ai! ai! … Adonis is deadEcho resounds … Adonis dead.Who will weep not thy dreadful woe. O Venus? _35Soon as she saw and knew the mortal woundOf her Adonis—saw the life-blood flowFrom his fair thigh, now wasting,—wailing loudShe clasped him, and cried … ‘Stay, Adonis!Stay, dearest one,… _40and mix my lips with thine—Wake yet a while, Adonis—oh, but once,That I may kiss thee now for the last time—But for as long as one short kiss may live—Oh, let thy breath flow from thy dying soul _45Even to my mouth and heart, that I may suckThat…’
NOTE: _23 his Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry; her Boscombe manuscript, Forman.
***
[Published from the Hunt manuscripts by Forman, “Poetical Works of P. B.S.”, 1876.]
Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,—Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears,For the beloved Bion is no more.Let every tender herb and plant and flower,From each dejected bud and drooping bloom, _5Shed dews of liquid sorrow, and with breathOf melancholy sweetness on the windDiffuse its languid love; let roses blush,Anemones grow paler for the lossTheir dells have known; and thou, O hyacinth, _10Utter thy legend now—yet more, dumb flower,Than ‘Ah! alas!’—thine is no common grief—Bion the [sweetest singer] is no more.
NOTE: _2 tears]sorrow (as alternative) Hunt manuscript.
***
[Published with “Alastor”, 1816.]
Tan ala tan glaukan otan onemos atrema Balle—k.t.l.
When winds that move not its calm surface sweepThe azure sea, I love the land no more;The smiles of the serene and tranquil deepTempt my unquiet mind.—But when the roarOf Ocean’s gray abyss resounds, and foam _5Gathers upon the sea, and vast waves burst,I turn from the drear aspect to the homeOf Earth and its deep woods, where, interspersed,When winds blow loud, pines make sweet melody.Whose house is some lone bark, whose toil the sea, _10Whose prey the wandering fish, an evil lotHas chosen.—But I my languid limbs will flingBeneath the plane, where the brook’s murmuringMoves the calm spirit, but disturbs it not.
***
[Published (without title) by Mrs. Shelley, “Posthumous Poems”, 1824.There is a draft amongst the Hunt manuscripts.]
Pan loved his neighbour Echo—but that childOf Earth and Air pined for the Satyr leaping;The Satyr loved with wasting madness wildThe bright nymph Lyda,—and so three went weeping.As Pan loved Echo, Echo loved the Satyr, _5The Satyr, Lyda; and so love consumed them.—And thus to each—which was a woful matter—To bear what they inflicted Justice doomed them;For, inasmuch as each might hate the lover,Each, loving, so was hated.—Ye that love not _10Be warned—in thought turn this example over,That when ye love, the like return ye prove not.
NOTE: _6 so Hunt manuscript; thus 1824. _11 So 1824; This lesson timely in your thoughts turn over, The moral of this song in thought turn over (as alternatives) Hunt manuscript.
***
[Published by Rossetti, “Complete Poetical Works of P. B. S.”, 1870, from the Boscombe manuscripts now in the Bodleian. Mr. Locock (“Examination”, etc., 1903, pages 47-50), as the result of his collation of the same manuscripts, gives a revised and expanded version which we print below.]
Melodious Arethusa, o’er my verseShed thou once more the spirit of thy stream:Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thouGlidest beneath the green and purple gleamOf Syracusan waters, mayst thou flow _5Unmingled with the bitter Doric dew!Begin, and, whilst the goats are browsing nowThe soft leaves, in our way let us pursueThe melancholy loves of Gallus. List!We sing not to the dead: the wild woods knew _10His sufferings, and their echoes…Young Naiads,…in what far woodlands wildWandered ye when unworthy love possessedYour Gallus? Not where Pindus is up-piled,Nor where Parnassus’ sacred mount, nor where _15Aonian Aganippe expands…The laurels and the myrtle-copses dim.The pine-encircled mountain, Maenalus,The cold crags of Lycaeus, weep for him;And Sylvan, crowned with rustic coronals, _20Came shaking in his speed the budding wandsAnd heavy lilies which he bore: we knewPan the Arcadian.
…
‘What madness is this, Gallus? Thy heart’s careWith willing steps pursues another there.’ _25
***
(As revised by Mr. C.D. Locock.)
Melodious Arethusa, o’er my verseShed thou once more the spirit of thy stream:
(Two lines missing.)
Who denies verse to Gallus? So, when thouGlidest beneath the green and purple gleamOf Syracusan waters, mayest thou flow _5Unmingled with the bitter Dorian dew!Begin, and whilst the goats are browsing nowThe soft leaves, in our song let us pursueThe melancholy loves of Gallus. List!We sing not to the deaf: the wild woods knew _10His sufferings, and their echoes answer…Young Naiades, in what far woodlands wildWandered ye, when unworthy love possessedOur Gallus? Nor where Pindus is up-piled,Nor where Parnassus’ sacred mount, nor where _15Aonian Aganippe spreads its…