7JOHANNES MILTON, SenexScazonsSince 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 Himvin suff'ring and sorrow turn me:Nay how coud I withdraw me fromvHis embracing?But since that I have seen not, and cannot know Him,Nor in my earthly temple apprehend rightlyHis wisdom and the heav'nly purpose ēternal;Therefore will I be bound to no studied systemNor argument, nor with delusion enslave me,Nor seek to pléase Him in any foolish invention,Which my spirit within me, that loveth beautyAnd hateth evil, hath reprov'd as unworthy:But I cherish my freedom in loving service,Gratefully adoring for delight beyond askingOr thinking, and in hours of anguish and darknessConfiding always onvHis excellent greatness.
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8PYTHAGORASSeasonsThou vainly, O Man, self-deceiver, exaltestThyself 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 monsterThou disregardest ignorantly all bēingSave 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 wisdomTo fear the blind thing blindly, lest it espy thee;And scrupulously dovhonour to dumb creatures,No one offending impiously, nor forcingTo service of vile uses; ordering ratherThy slave to beauty, compelling lovingkindness.So should desire, the only priestess of NatureDivinely inspir'd, like a good monarch rule thee,And lead thee onward in the consummate motionOf life eternal unto heav'nly perfection.
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Elegiacs9AMIELWhy, O Maker of all, madest thou man with affectionsTender 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 himHumbly the impossible burden of all misery.Now casteth he away his books and logical idolsLeaveth 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.
10Ah, what a change! Thou, who didst emptily thy happiness seekIn 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?
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11WALKING HOMEFrom the ChineseThousand threads of rain and fine white wreathing of air-mistHide 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.
12THE RUINFrom the ChineseThese 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 fl̄ing from sunny-wall'd Italy.
13REVENANTSFrom the FrenchAt dead of unseen night ghosts of the departed assemblingFlit to the graves, where each in body had burial.Ah, then rēvisiting my sad heart their desolate tombTroop the desires and loves vainly buried long ago.
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14From the GreekMortal though I bé, yea ephemeral, if but a momentI 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.
15ANNIVERSARYSee, 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 oneIn 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.
16COMMUNION OF SAINTSFrom Andre ChenierWhat happy bonds together unite you, ye living and dead,Your fadeless love-bloom, your manifold memories.
17EPITAPHSFight well, my comrades, and prove your bravery. Me tooGod call'd out, but crown'd early before the battle.
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18I died in very flow'r: yet call me not unhappy therefore,Ye that against sweet life once a lament have utter'd.
19When thou, my belovèd, diedst, I saw heaven open,And all earthly delight inhabiting Paradise.
20Where thou art better I too were, dearest, anywhere, thanWanting thy well-lov'd lovely presence anywhere.
21IBANT OBSCURIA line for line paraphrase of a part ofVirgil's Æneid, Bk. VI.They wer' amid the shadows by night in loneliness obscureWalking forth i' the void and vasty dominyon of Ades;As by an uncertain moonray secretly illumin'd270One 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,278All the Pleasures of Sin; there also the Furies in ambusht{449}Chamber of iron, afore whose bars wild War bloodyhandedRaged, and mad Discord high brandisht her venomous locks.Midway of all this tract, with secular arms an immense elmReareth a crowd of branches, aneath whose leafy protectionVain dreams thickly nestle, clinging unto the foliage on high:And many strange creatures of monstrous form and featuresStable about th' entrance, Centaur and Scylla's abortion,And hundred-handed Briareus, and Lerna the wildbeastRoaring 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,290With ready naked point confronting their dreaded onset:And had not the Sibyl warn'd how these lively spirits wereAll 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 reekyDeep of Cokytos disgorgeth, with muddy burden.These floods one ferryman serveth, most awful of aspect,Of squalor infernal, Chāron: all filthily unkemptThat woolly white cheek-fleece, and fiery the blood-shotten eyeballs:300On 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 medleyOf men and matrons; nor did death's injury concealBravespirited 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 autumnSere leaves fall to the ground; or like whenas over the oceanMyria^d birds come thickly flocking, when wintry December311Drives them afar southward for shelter upon sunnier shores,{450}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 theseRudely denied, while those may upon the solemn river embark?'320T'whom[B]then briefly again the Avernia^n priestess in answer.'O Son of Anchises, heavn's true-born glorious offspring,Deep Cokytos it is thou see^st & Hell's Stygia^n flood,Whose dread sanctio^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 overAre the buried; nor ever may mortal across the livid lakeJourney, or e'er upon Earth his bones lie peacefully entomb'd:Haunting a hundred years this mournful plain they wanderDoom'd for a term, which term expired they win to deliv'rance.'330Then 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 heLeucaspis with his old Lycian seachieften Orontes,Whom together from Troy in home-coming over the watersWild 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{451}First he addrest. 'What God, tell-me O Palinurus, of all godsPlúckt you away and drown'd i' the swift wake-water abandon'd?For never erst nor in else hath kind responsive ApolloLed-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,350And came with-me' o'erboard. Ah! then, by ev'ry accurst sea,Tho' in utter despair, far less mine own peril awed meThan my thought o' the ship, what harm might háp to her, yawingIn the billows helmless, with a high wind and threatening gale.Two nights and one day buffeted held I to the good sparWindborne, with the current far-drifting, an' on the second mornSaw, 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,360Beát 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;{452}Or better, if so be the goddess, heav'n's lady-Creatress,Show-thee the way,—nor surely without high favoring impulseMak'st thou ventur' across these floods & black Ereban lake,—Give thy hand-to-me', an' o'er their watery boundary bring me370Unto 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'erpassHell'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 comfortSurely the people of all thy new-found country, determin'dBy heav'n-sent omens will achieve thy purification,379Build 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 emergingOut 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:390Forbidden unto living mortals is my Stygian keel:Truly not Alkides embarkt I cheerfully, nor tookOf Theseus or Pirithous glad custody, nay thoughGod-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{453}Surely for us may affray the spirits with 'howling eternal,401And 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,410And the spirits, that along the gun'al benchways sat in order,Drave he ashore, offering readyroom: but when the vessel tookPonderous Æneas, her timbers crankily strainingCreak'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 invadeAll 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.420He, 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{454}Unto the death: but here their lot by justice is order'd.431Inquisitor Minos, with his urn, summoning to assemblyHis silent council, their deed or slander arraigneth.—Next the sullen-hearted, who rashly with else-innocent handTheir 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 awfulRings them about, & Styx with ninefold circle enarmeth.—Not far hence they come to a land extensive on all sides;440Weeping 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'dBy 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, DidoWander'd throu' the forest-obscurity; and Æneas451Standing anigh knew surely the dim form, though i' the darknessVeil'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.460Me the command of a god, who here my journey determinesThrough Ereban darkness, through fields sown with desolation,{455}Drave-me to wrong my heart. Nay tho' deep-pain'd to desert theeI 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,470Than wer' a face of flint, or of ensculptur'd alabaster.At length she started disdainful, an' angrily withdrewInto a shady thicket: where her grief kindly SychæusSooth'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 benightedPhantom of Adrastus, ' of stalwart Parthenopæus.480Here long mourn'd upon earth went all that prowess of IliumFallen 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 Demetria^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 unwontedMarching in equal stép, and eager of his coming enquire.But th' Argive leaders, and they that obey'd AgamemnonWhen they saw that Trojan in arms come striding among them,490Old terror invaded their ranks: some fled stricken, as once{456}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' hidingHis dire plight, & thus he 'his old companyon accosted.'Noblest Deiphobus, great Teucer's intrepid offspring,500Who was it, inhuman, coveted so cruel a vengeance?Who can hav' adventur'd on thée? That last terrible nightThou wert said to hav' exceeded thy bravery, an' onlyOn thy faln enemies wert faln by weariness o'ercome.Wherefor' upon the belov'd sea-shore thine empty sepulchralMound 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 LacedæmonDrave-me to doom, & planted in hell, her trophy triumphant.On that night,—how vain a security and merrymakingThen 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 eyelids520Unto my unhappy chamber', an' lay fast lockt in oblivyon,{457}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 cameHis crime-counsellor Æolides. So, and more alsoDéal-ye', O Gods, to the Greeks! an' if I call justly upon you.—530But 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-dayUnperceiv'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;540This to the right, skirting by th' high city-fortresses of Dis,Endeth in Elysium, our path; but that to the leftwardOnly 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 torrentia^l550Red 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{458}E'er might shake; blank-faced to the cloud its bastion upstands.Tisiphone thereby in a bloodspotty robe sitteth alwayNight 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 avowalEven of all that on earth, by vain impunity harden'd,Men sinning have put away from thought tillvimpenitent death.On those convicted tremblers then leapeth avenging570Tisiphone with keen flesh-whips and vipery scourges,And of her implacable sisters inviteth attendance.'—Now sudden on screeching hinges that portal accursèdFlung 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 HydraThat sitteth angry within. Know too that Tartarus itselfDives sheer gaping aneath in gloomy profundity downwardTwice that height that a man looketh-up t'ward airy Olympus.Lowest there those children of Earth, Titanian elders,580In the abyss, where once they fell hurl'd, yet wallowing lie.There the Alöīdæ saw I, th' ungainly rebel twinsPrimæval, that assay'd to devastate th' Empyræan{459}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 highDriving among 'his Graian folk in Olympian Elis;Exultant as a God he rode in blasphemy worshipt.589Fool, who th' unreckoning tempest and deadly dreaded boltThought 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 pretencesExtinguish'd at a stroke, scattering ' his dust to the whirlwind.There too huge Tityos, whom Earth that gendereth all thingsOnce foster'd, spreadeth-out o'er nine full roods his immense limbs.On him a wild vulture with hook-beak greedily gorgethHis liver upsprouting quick as that Hell-chicken eateth.Shé diggeth and dwelleth under the vast ribs, her bloody bare neckLifting anon: ne'er loathes-she the food, ne'er fails the renewal.600Where wer' an end their names to relate, their crimes and torments?Some o'er whom a hanging black rock, slipping at very point ofFalling, ever threateneth: Couches luxurious inviteSoftly-cushion'd to repose: Tables for banqueting outlaidTempt 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;609Or who chancing alone on wealth prey'd lustfully thereon,Nor made share with others, no greater company than they:{460}Some for adultery slain; some their bright swords had offendedDrawn i' the wrong: or a master's trust with perfidy had met:Dungeon'd their penalties they await. Look not to be answer'dWhat that doom, nor th' end of these men think to determine.Sóme aye roll heavy rocks, some whirl dizzy on the revolvingSpokes of a pendant wheel: sitteth and to eternity shall sitUnfortun'd Theseus; while sad Phlegias saddeneth hellWith 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, promoting621Her 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 anvilsNow I see, an' th' archway in Ætna's furnace attemper'd,631Where 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 besprinklingHis 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{461}Sun than th' Earth, an' a new starworld their darkness adorneth.641Some 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 OrpheusBade 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 Iliu^]m:650Their 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 armourOr chariot had charmed them, or if 'twer' good manage and careOf 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 banksBountiful Eridanus glides throu' their bosky retirement.Here were men who bled for honour, their country defending;660Priests, 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 quest670{462}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 gladeHaunt-we, lilied stream-bank, sunny mead; and o'er valley and rockAt 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 plainGleaming 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 resurrection680While diligently he-mark'd, his thought had turn'd to his own kin,Whose numbers he-reckon'd, an' of all their progeny foretoldTheir fate and fortune, their ripen'd temper an' action.He then, when he' espied Æneas t'ward him approachingO'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 graceConquering 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,690And ever expected; nor did fond fancy betray me.From what lands, my son, from what life-dangering oceanArt-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 oftenSadly 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 whenFor the longing contact of mortal affection, he out-held700{463}His strong arms, the figure sustain'd them not: 'twas as emptyE'en as a windworn cloud, or a phantom of irrelevant sleep.On the level bosom of this vale more thickly the tall treesGrow, an' aneath quivering poplars and whispering aldersLethe'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 pasturePill 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 lifeAnd 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 attainethElysium will again submit to her old body-burden?720Is 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,730In 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{464}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 withMortality's plaguespots. It must-be that, O, many wild graffsDeeply at 'heart engrain'd have rooted strangely upon them:Wherefore must suffering purge them, yea, Justice atone themWith penalties heavy as their guilt: some purify exposed740Hung to the viewless winds, or others long watery searchingsLow i' the deep wash clean, some bathe in fie^ry renewal:Each cometh unto his own retribution,—if after in ampleElysium 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 freeThat first fie^ry vigour, the celestia^l virtue of our life.All whom here thou see^st, hav' accomplished purification:Unto the stream of Lethe a god their company calleth,That forgetful of old failure, pain & disappointment,750They may again into' earthly bodies with glad courage enter.'* * *Twín be the gates o' the house of sleep: as fable opineth893One 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 forthAnd his son, and both dismisst from th' ivory portal.
FINIS
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