SEMELE. (Springing up.)Ha! be it so! He must unveil himself!
JUNO. (Hastily.)Thou must not let him sink into thine arms.Till he unveils himself—so hearken, child,To what thy faithful nurse now counsels thee,—To what affection whispers in mine ear,And will accomplish!—Say! will he soon come?
SEMELE.Before Hyperion sinks in Thetis' bed,He promised to appear.
JUNO. (Forgetting herself hastily.) Is't so, indeed?He promised? Ha! To-day? (Recovering herself.) Let him approach,And when he would attempt, inflamed with love,To clasp his arms around thee, then do thou,—Observe me well,—as if by lightning struck,Start back in haste. Ha! picture his surprise!Leave him not long in wonderment, my child;Continue to repulse him with a lookAs cold as ice—more wildly, with more ardorHe'll press thee then—the coyness of the fairIs but a dam, that for awhile keeps backThe torrent, only to increase the floodWith greater fury. Then begin to weep'Gainst giants he might stand,—look calmly onWhen Typheus, hundred-armed, in fury hurledMount Ossa and Olympus 'gainst his throne:But Zeus is soon subdued by beauty's tears.Thou smilest?—Be it so! Is, then, the scholarWiser, perchance, than she who teaches her?—Then thou must pray the god one little, littleMost innocent request to grant to thee—One that may seal his love and godhead too.He'll swear by Styx. The Styx he must obey!That oath he dares not break! Then speak these words:"Thou shalt not touch this body, till thou comestTo Cadmus' daughter clothed in all the mightWherein thou art embraced by Kronos' daughter!"Be not thou terrified, my Semele,If he, in order to escape thy wish,As bugbears paints the horrors of his presence—Describes the flames that round about him roar,The thunder round him rolling when he comes:These, Semele, are naught but empty fears—The gods dislike to show to us frail mortalsThese the most glorious of their attributes;Be thou but obstinate in thy request,And Juno's self will gaze on thee with envy.
SEMELE.The frightful ox-eyed one! How often heComplains, in the blest moments of our love,Of her tormenting him with her black gall—
JUNO. (Aside, furiously, but with embarrassment.)Ha! creature! Thou shalt die for this contempt!
SEMELE.My Beroe! What art thou murmuring there?
JUNO. (In confusion.)Nothing, my Semele! Black gall tormentsMe also—Yes! a sharp, reproachful lookWith lovers often passes as black gall—Yet ox-eyes, after all, are not so ugly.
SEMELE.Oh, Beroe, for shame! they're quite the worstThat any head can possibly contain!And then her cheeks of green and yellow hues,The obvious penalty of poisonous envy—Zeus oft complains to me that that same shrewEach night torments him with her nauseous love,And with her jealous whims,—enough, I'm sure,Into Ixion's wheel to turn all heaven.
JUNO. (Raving up and down in extreme confusion.)No more of this!
SEMELE. What, Beroe! So angry?Have I said more than what is true? Said moreThan what is wise?
JUNO. Thou hast said more, young woman,Than what is true—said more than what is wise!Deem thyself truly blest, if thy blue eyesSmile thee not into Charon's bark too soon!Saturnia has her altars and her temples,And wanders amongst mortals—that great goddessAvenges naught so bitterly as scorn
SEMELE.Here let her wander, and give birth to scorn!What is't to me?—My Jupiter protectsMy every hair,—what harm can Juno do?But now, enough of this, my Beroe!Zeus must appear to-day in all his glory;And if Saturnia should on that accountFind out the path to Orcus—
JUNO. (Aside.) That same pathAnother probably will find before her,If but Kronion's lightning hits the mark!—(To Semele.)Yes, Semele, she well may burst with envyWhen Cadmus' daughter, in the sight of Greece,Ascends in triumph to Olympus' heights!—
SEMELE. (Smiling gently.)Thinkest thou they'll hear in Greece of Cadmus' daughter?
JUNO. From Sidon to Athens the trumpet of fameShall ring with no other but Semele's name!The gods from the heavens shall even descend,And before thee their knees in deep homage shall bend,While mortals in silent submission abideThe will of the giant-destroyer's loved bride;And when distant years shall seeThy last hour—
SEMELE. (Springing up, and falling on her neck.)Oh, Beroe!
JUNO. Then a tablet white shall bearThis inscription graven there:Here is worshipped Semele!Who on earth so fair as she?She who from Olympus' throneLured the thunder-hurler down!She who, with her kisses sweet,Laid him prostrate at her feet!And when fame on her thousand wings bears it around,The echo from valley and hill shall resound.
SEMELE. (Beside herself.)Pythia! Apollo! Hear!When, oh when will he appear?
JUNO. And on smoking altars theyRites divine to thee shall pay—
SEMELE. (Inspired.)I will harken to their prayer,And will drive away their care,—Quench with my tears the lightning of great Jove,His breast to pity with entreaty move!
JUNO. (Aside.)Poor thing! that wilt thou ne'er have power to do. (Meditating.)Ere long will melt . . . yet—yet—she called me ugly!—No pity only when in Tartarus!(To Semele.)Fly now, my love! Make haste to leave this spot,That Zeus may not observe thee—Let him waitLong for thy coming, that he with more fireMay languish for thee—
SEMELE. Beroe! The heavensHave chosen thee their mouthpiece! Happy I!The gods from Olympus shall even descend,And before me their knees in deep homage shall bend,While mortals in silent submission abide—But hold!—'tis time for me to haste away![Exit hurriedly.
JUNO. (Looking after her with exultation.)Weak, proud, and easily-deluded woman!His tender looks shall be consuming fire—His kiss, annihilation—his embrace,A raging tempest to thee! Human framesAre powerless to endure the dreaded presenceOf him who wields the thunderbolt on high!(With raving ecstasy.)Ha! when her waxen mortal body meltsWithin the arms of him, the fire-distilling,As melts the fleecy snow before the heatOf the bright sun—and when the perjured oneIn place of his soft tender bride, embracesA form of terror—with what ecstasyShall I gaze downwards from Cithaeron's height,Exclaiming, so that in his hand the boltShall quake: "For shame, Saturnius! Fie, for shame!What need is there for thee to clasp so roughly?"[Exit hastily.(A, Symphony.)
The Hall as before.—Sudden brightness.ZEUS in the shape of a youth.—MERCURY in the distance.
ZEUS.Thou son of Maia!
MERCURY. (Kneeling, with his head bowed reverentially.)Zeus!
ZEUS. Up! Hasten! TurnThy pinions' flight toward far Scamander's bank!A shepherd there is weeping o'er the graveOf his loved shepherdess. No one shall weepWhen Zeus is loving: Call the dead to life!
MERCURY. (Rising.)Let but thy head a nod almighty give,And in an instant I am there,—am backIn the same instant—
ZEUS. Stay! As I o'er ArgosWas flying, from my temples curling roseThe sacrificial smoke: it gave me joyThat thus the people worship me—so flyTo Ceres, to my sister,—thus speaks Zeus:"Ten-thousandfold for fifty years to comeLet her reward the Argive husbandmen!"—
MERCURY.With trembling haste I execute thy wrath,—With joyous speed thy messages of grace,Father of all! For to the deities'Tis bliss to make man happy; to destroy himIs anguish to the gods. Thy will be done!Where shall I pour into thine ears their thanks,—Below in dust, or at thy throne on high?
ZEUS.Here at my throne on earth—within the palace,Of Semele! Away! [Exit Mercury.Does she not come,As is her wont, Olympus' mighty kingTo clasp against her rapture-swelling breast?Why hastens not my Semele to meet me?A vacant, deathlike, fearful silence reignsOn every side around the lonely palace,So wont to ring with wild bacchantic shouts—No breath is stirring—on Cithaeron's heightExulting Juno stands. Will SemeleNever again make haste to meet her Zeus?(A pause, after which he continues.)Ha! Can yon impious one perchance have daredTo set her foot in my love's sanctuary?—Saturnia—Mount Cithaeron—her rejoicingsFearful foreboding!—Semele—yet peace!—Take courage!—I'm thy Zeus! the scattered heavensShall learn, my Semele, that I'm thy Zeus!Where is the breath of air that dares presumeRoughly to blow on her whom Zeus calls His?I scoff at all her malice.—Where art thou,O Semele? I long have pined to restMy world-tormented head upon thy breast,—To lull my wearied senses to reposeFrom the wild storm of earthly joys and woes,—To dream away the emblems of my might,My reins, my tiller, and my chariot bright,And live for naught beyond the joys of love!Oh heavenly inspiration, that can moveEven the Gods divine! What is the bloodOf mighty Uranus—what all the floodOf nectar and ambrosia—what the throneOf high Olympus—what the power I own,The golden sceptre of the starry skies—What the omnipotence that never dies,What might eternal, immortality—What e'en a god, oh love, if reft of thee?The shepherd who, beside the murmuring brooks,Leans on his true love's breast, nor cares to lookAfter his straying lambs, in that sweet hourEnvies me not my thunderbolt of power!She comes—she hastens nigh! Pearl of my works,Woman! the artist who created theeShould be adored. 'Twas I—myself I worshipZeus worships Zeus, for Zeus created thee.Ha! Who will now, in all the being-realm,Condemn me? How unseen, yes, how despisedDwindle away my worlds, my constellationsSo ray-diffusing, all my dancing systems,What wise men call the music of my spheres!—How dead are all when weighed against a soul!(Semele approaches, without looking up.)My pride! my throne on earth! Oh Semele!(He rushes towards her; she seeks to fly.)Thou flyest?—art mute?—Ha! Semele! thou flyest?
SEMELE. (Repulsing him.)Away!
ZEUS. (After a pause of astonishment.)Is Jupiter asleep? Will NatureRush to her fall?—Can Semele speak thus?What, not an answer? Eagerly mine armsToward thee are stretched—my bosom never throbbedResponsive to Agenor's daughter,—neverThrobbed against Leda's breast,—my lips ne'er burnedFor the sweet kiss of prisoned Danae,As now—
SEMELE. Peace, traitor! Peace!
ZEUS. (With displeasure, but tenderly.) My Semele!
SEMELE.Out of my sight!
ZEUS. (Looking at her with majesty.)Know, I am Zeus!
SEMELE. Thou Zeus?Tremble, Salmoneus, for he fearfullyWill soon demand again the stolen charmsThat thou hast robbed him of—thou art not Zeus!
ZEUS. (With dignity.)The mighty universe around me whirls,And calls me so—
SEMELE. Ha! Fearful blasphemy!
ZEUS. (More gently.)How, my divine one? Wherefore such a tone?What reptile dares to steal thine heart from me?
SEMELE.My heart was vowed to him whose ape thou art!Men ofttimes come beneath a godlike formTo snare a woman. Hence! thou art not Zeus!
ZEUS.Thou doubtest? What! Can Semele still doubtMy godhead?
SEMELE. (Mournfully.)Would that thou wert Zeus! No sonOf morrow-nothingness shall touch this mouth;This heart is vowed to Zeus! Would thou wert he!
ZEUS. Thou weepest? Zeus is here,—weeps Semele?(Falling down before her.)Speak! But command! and then shall slavish natureLie trembling at the feet of Cadmus' daughter!Command! and streams shall instantly make halt—And Helicon, and Caucasus, and Cynthus,And Athos, Mycale, and Rhodope, and Pindus,Shall burst their bonds when I order it so,And kiss the valleys and plains below,And dance in the breeze like flakes of snow.Command! and the winds from the east and the north,And the fierce tornado shall sally forth,While Poseidon's trident their power shall own,When they shake to its base his watery throne;The billows in angry fury shall rise,And every sea-mark and dam despise;The lightning shall gleam through the firmament blackWhile the poles of earth and of heaven shall crack,The ocean the heights of Olympus explore,From thousandfold jaws with wild deafening roarThe thunder shall howl, while with mad jubileeThe hurricane fierce sings in triumph to thee.Command—
SEMELE, I'm but a woman, a frail womanHow can the potter bend before his pot?How can the artist kneel before his statue?
ZEUS.Pygmalion bowed before his masterpiece—And Zeus now worships his own Semele!
SEMELE. (Weeping bitterly.)Arise—arise! Alas for us poor maidens!Zeus has my heart, gods only can I love,The gods deride me, Zeus despises me!
ZEUS. Zeus who is now before thy feet—
SEMELE. Arise!Zeus reigns on high, above the thunderbolts,And, clasped in Juno's arms, a reptile scorns.
ZEUS. (Hastily.)Ha! Semele and Juno!—which the reptile!
SEMELE.How blessed beyond all utterance would beCadmus' daughter—wert thou Zeus! Alas!Thou art not Zeus!
ZEUS. (Arises.) I am!(He extends his hand, and a rainbow fills the hall; musicaccompanies its appearance.)Knowest thou me now?
SEMELE.Strong is that mortal's arm whom gods protect,—Saturnius loves thee—none can I e'er loveBut deities—
ZEUS. What! art thou doubting stillWhether my might is lent me by the godsAnd not god-born? The gods, my Semele,In charity oft lend their strength to man;Ne'er do the deities their terrors lend—Death and destruction is the godhead's seal—Bearer of death to thee were Zeus unveiled!(He extends his hand. Thunder, fire, smoke, and earthquake.Music accompanies the spell here and subsequently.)
SEMELE.Withdraw, withdraw thy hand!—Oh, mercy, mercy,For the poor nation! Yes, thou art the childOf great Saturnius—
ZEUS. Ha! thou thoughtless one!Shall Zeus, to please a woman's stubbornness,Bid planets whirl, and bid the suns stand still?Zeus will do so!—oft has a god's descendantRipped up the fire-impregnate womb of rocks,And yet his might's confined to Tellus' boundsZeus only can do this!(He extends his hand—the sun vanishes, and it becomessuddenly night.)
SEMELE. (Falling down before him.)Almighty one!Couldst thou but love! [Day reappears.
ZEUS. Ha! Cadmus' daughter asksKronion if Kronion e'er can love!One word and he throws off divinity—Is flesh and blood, and dies, and is beloved!
SEMELE.Would Zeus do that?ZEUS. Speak, Semele! What more?Apollo's self confesses that 'tis blissTo be a man 'mongst men—a sign from thee,And I'm a man!
SEMELE. (Falling on his neck.)Oh Jupiter, the Epidaurus womenThy Semele a foolish maiden call,Because, though by the Thunderer beloved,She can obtain naught from him—
ZEUS. (Eagerly.) They shall blush,Those Epidaurus women! Ask!—but ask!And by the dreaded Styx—whose boundless mightBinds e'en the gods like slaves—if Zeus deny thee,Then shall the gods, e'en in that self-same moment,Hurl me despairing to annihilation!
SEMELE. (Springing up joyfully.)By this I know that thou'rt my Jupiter!Thou swearest—and the Styx has heard thine oath!Let me embrace thee, then, in the same guiseIn which—
ZEUS. (Shrieking with alarm.)Unhappy one! Oh stay! oh stay!
SEMELE. Saturnia—
ZEUS. (Attempting to stop her mouth.)Be thou dumb!
SEMELE. Embraces thee.
ZEUS. (Pale, and turning away.)Too late! The sound escaped!—The Styx!—'Tis deathThou, Semele, hast gained!
SEMELE. Ha! Loves Zeus thus?
ZEUS.All heaven I would have given, had I onlyLoved thee but less! (Gazing at her with coldhorror.) Thou'rt lost—
SEMELE. Oh, Jupiter!
ZEUS. (Speaking furiously to himself,)Ah! Now I mark thine exultation, Juno!Accursed jealousy! This rose must die!Too fair—alas! too sweet for Acheron!
SEMELE.Methinks thou'rt niggard of thy majesty!
ZEUS.Accursed be my majesty, that nowHas blinded thee! Accursed be my greatness,That must destroy thee! Cursed be I myselfFor having built my bliss on crumbling dust!
SEMELE.These are but empty terrors, Zeus! In truthI do not dread thy threats!ZEUS. Deluded child!Go! take a last farewell forever moreOf all thy friends beloved—naught, naught has powerTo save thee, Semele! I am thy Zeus!Yet that no more—Go—
SEMELE. Jealous one! the Styx!—Think not that thou'lt be able to escape me. [Exit.
ZEUS.No! Juno shall not triumph.—She shall tremble—Aye, and by virtue of the deadly mightThat makes the earth and makes the heavens my footstool,Upon the sharpest rock in Thracia's landWith adamantine chains I'll bind her fast.But, oh, this oath—[Mercury appears in the distance.What means thy hasty flight?
MERCURY.I bring the fiery, winged, and weeping thanksOf those whom thou hast blessed—
ZEUS. Again destroy them!
MERCURY. (In amazement.)Zeus!
ZEUS. None shall now be blessed! She dies—[The curtain falls.
Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal,Offspring of Elysium,Mad with rapture, to the portalOf thy holy fame we come!Fashion's laws, indeed, may sever,But thy magic joins again;All mankind are brethren ever'Neath thy mild and gentle reign.
CHORUS.Welcome, all ye myriad creatures!Brethren, take the kiss of love!Yes, the starry realms aboveHide a Father's smiling features!
He, that noble prize possessing—He that boasts a friend that's true,He whom woman's love is blessing,Let him join the chorus too!Aye, and he who but one spiritOn this earth can call his own!He who no such bliss can merit,Let him mourn his fate alone!
CHORUS.All who Nature's tribes are swellingHomage pay to sympathy;For she guides us up on high,Where the unknown has his dwelling.
From the breasts of kindly NatureAll of joy imbibe the dew;Good and bad alike, each creatureWould her roseate path pursue.'Tis through her the wine-cup maddens,Love and friends to man she gives!Bliss the meanest reptile gladdens,—Near God's throne the cherub lives!
CHORUS.Bow before him, all creation!Mortals, own the God of love!Seek him high the stars above,—Yonder is his habitation!
Joy, in Nature's wide dominion,Mightiest cause of all is found;And 'tis joy that moves the pinion,When the wheel of time goes round;From the bud she lures the flower—Suns from out their orbs of light;Distant spheres obey her power,Far beyond all mortal sight.
CHORUS.As through heaven's expanse so gloriousIn their orbits suns roll on,Brethren, thus your proud race run,Glad as warriors all-victorious!
Joy from truth's own glass of fireSweetly on the searcher smiles;Lest on virtue's steeps he tire,Joy the tedious path beguiles.High on faith's bright hill before us,See her banner proudly wave!Joy, too, swells the angels' chorus,—Bursts the bondage of the grave!
CHORUS.Mortals, meekly wait for heavenSuffer on in patient love!In the starry realms above,Bright rewards by God are given.
To the Gods we ne'er can renderPraise for every good they grant;Let us, with devotion tender,Minister to grief and want.Quenched be hate and wrath forever,Pardoned be our mortal foe—May our tears upbraid him never,No repentance bring him low!
CHORUS.Sense of wrongs forget to treasure—Brethren, live in perfect love!In the starry realms above,God will mete as we may measure.
Joy within the goblet flushes,For the golden nectar, wine,Every fierce emotion hushes,—Fills the breast with fire divine.Brethren, thus in rapture meeting,Send ye round the brimming cup,—Yonder kindly spirit greeting,While the foam to heaven mounts up!
CHORUS.He whom seraphs worship ever;Whom the stars praise as they roll,Yes to him now drain the bowlMortal eye can see him never!
Courage, ne'er by sorrow broken!Aid where tears of virtue flow;Faith to keep each promise spoken!Truth alike to friend and foe!'Neath kings' frowns a manly spirit!—Brethren, noble is the prize—Honor due to every merit!Death to all the brood of lies!
CHORUS.Draw the sacred circle closer!By this bright wine plight your trothTo be faithful to your oath!Swear it by the Star-Disposer!
Safety from the tyrant's power! [9]Mercy e'en to traitors base!Hope in death's last solemn hour!Pardon when before His face!Lo, the dead shall rise to heaven!Brethren hail the blest decree;Every sin shall be forgiven,Hell forever cease to be!
CHORUS.When the golden bowl is broken,Gentle sleep within the tomb!Brethren, may a gracious doomBy the Judge of man be spoken!
She comes, she comes—the burden of the deeps!Beneath her wails the universal sea!With clanking chains and a new god, she sweeps,And with a thousand thunders, unto thee!The ocean-castles and the floating hosts—Ne'er on their like looked the wild water!—WellMay man the monster name "Invincible."O'er shuddering waves she gathers to thy coasts!The horror that she spreads can claimJust title to her haughty name.The trembling Neptune quailsUnder the silent and majestic forms;The doom of worlds in those dark sails;—Near and more near they sweep! and slumber all the storms!
Before thee, the array,Blest island, empress of the sea!The sea-born squadrons threaten thee,And thy great heart, Britannia!Woe to thy people, of their freedom proud—She rests, a thunder heavy in its cloud!Who, to thy hand the orb and sceptre gave,That thou should'st be the sovereign of the nations?To tyrant kings thou wert thyself the slave,Till freedom dug from law its deep foundations;The mighty Chart the citizens made kings,And kings to citizens sublimely bowed!And thou thyself, upon thy realm of water,Hast thou not rendered millions up to slaughter,When thy ships brought upon their sailing wingsThe sceptre—and the shroud?What should'st thou thank?—Blush, earth, to hear and feelWhat should'st thou thank?—Thy genius and thy steel!Behold the hidden and the giant fires!Behold thy glory trembling to its fall!Thy coming doom the round earth shall appal,And all the hearts of freemen beat for thee,And all free souls their fate in thine foresee—Theirs is thy glory's fall!
One look below the Almighty gave,Where streamed the lion-flags of thy proud foe;And near and wider yawned the horrent grave."And who," saith He, "shall lay mine England low—The stem that blooms with hero-deeds—The rock when man from wrong a refuge needs—The stronghold where the tyrant comes in vain?Who shall bid England vanish from the main?Ne'er be this only Eden freedom knew,Man's stout defence from power, to fate consigned."God the Almighty blew,And the Armada went to every wind!
Ye in the age gone by,Who ruled the world—a world how lovely then!—And guided still the steps of happy menIn the light leading-strings of careless joy!Ah, flourished then your service of delight!How different, oh, how different, in the dayWhen thy sweet fanes with many a wreath were bright,O Venus Amathusia!
Then, through a veil of dreamsWoven by song, truth's youthful beauty glowed,And life's redundant and rejoicing streamsGave to the soulless, soul—where'r they flowedMan gifted nature with divinityTo lift and link her to the breast of love;All things betrayed to the initiate eyeThe track of gods above!
Where lifeless—fixed afar,A flaming ball to our dull sense is given,Phoebus Apollo, in his golden car,In silent glory swept the fields of heaven!On yonder hill the Oread was adored,In yonder tree the Dryad held her home;And from her urn the gentle Naiad pouredThe wavelet's silver foam.
Yon bay, chaste Daphne wreathed,Yon stone was mournful Niobe's mute cell,Low through yon sedges pastoral Syrinx breathed,And through those groves wailed the sweet Philomel,The tears of Ceres swelled in yonder rill—Tears shed for Proserpine to Hades borne;And, for her lost Adonis, yonder hillHeard Cytherea mourn!—
Heaven's shapes were charmed untoThe mortal race of old Deucalion;Pyrrha's fair daughter, humanly to woo,Came down, in shepherd-guise, Latona's sonBetween men, heroes, gods, harmonious thenLove wove sweet links and sympathies divine;Blest Amathusia, heroes, gods, and men,Equals before thy shrine!
Not to that culture gay,Stern self-denial, or sharp penance wan!Well might each heart be happy in that day—For gods, the happy ones, were kin to man!The beautiful alone the holy there!No pleasure shamed the gods of that young race;So that the chaste Camoenae favoring were,And the subduing grace!
A palace every shrine;Your sports heroic;—yours the crownOf contests hallowed to a power divine,As rushed the chariots thundering to renown.Fair round the altar where the incense breathed,Moved your melodious dance inspired; and fairAbove victorious brows, the garland wreathedSweet leaves round odorous hair!
The lively Thyrsus-swinger,And the wild car the exulting panthers bore,Announced the presence of the rapture-bringer—Bounded the Satyr and blithe Faun before;And Maenads, as the frenzy stung the soul,Hymned in their maddening dance, the glorious wine—As ever beckoned to the lusty bowlThe ruddy host divine!
Before the bed of deathNo ghastly spectre stood—but from the porchOf life, the lip—one kiss inhaled the breath,And the mute graceful genius lowered a torch.The judgment-balance of the realms below,A judge, himself of mortal lineage, held;The very furies at the Thracian's woe,Were moved and music-spelled.
In the Elysian groveThe shades renewed the pleasures life held dear:The faithful spouse rejoined remembered love,And rushed along the meads the charioteer;There Linus poured the old accustomed strain;Admetus there Alcestis still could greet; hisFriend there once more Orestes could regain,His arrows—Philoctetes!
More glorious than the meedsThat in their strife with labor nerved the brave,To the great doer of renowned deedsThe Hebe and the heaven the Thunderer gave.Before the rescued rescuer [10] of the dead,Bowed down the silent and immortal host;And the twain stars [11] their guiding lustre shed,On the bark tempest-tossed!
Art thou, fair world, no more?Return, thou virgin-bloom on Nature's face;Ah, only on the minstrel's magic shore,Can we the footstep of sweet fable trace!The meadows mourn for the old hallowing life;Vainly we search the earth of gods bereft;Where once the warm and living shapes were rife,Shadows alone are left!
Cold, from the north, has goneOver the flowers the blast that killed their May;And, to enrich the worship of the one,A universe of gods must pass away!Mourning, I search on yonder starry steeps,But thee no more, Selene, there I see!And through the woods I call, and o'er the deeps,And—Echo answers me!
Deaf to the joys she gives—Blind to the pomp of which she is possessed—Unconscious of the spiritual power that livesAround, and rules her—by our bliss unblessed—Dull to the art that colors or creates,Like the dead timepiece, godless nature creepsHer plodding round, and, by the leaden weights,The slavish motion keeps.
To-morrow to receiveNew life, she digs her proper grave to-day;And icy moons with weary sameness weaveFrom their own light their fulness and decay.Home to the poet's land the gods are flown,Light use in them that later world discerns,Which, the diviner leading-strings outgrown,On its own axle turns.
Home! and with them are goneThe hues they gazed on and the tones they heard;Life's beauty and life's melody:—aloneBroods o'er the desolate void, the lifeless word;Yet rescued from time's deluge, still they throngUnseen the Pindus they were wont to cherish:All, that which gains immortal life in song,To mortal life must perish!
Yes! even I was in Arcadia born,And, in mine infant ears,A vow of rapture was by Nature sworn;—Yes! even I was in Arcadia born,And yet my short spring gave me only—tears!
Once blooms, and only once, life's youthful May;For me its bloom hath gone.The silent God—O brethren, weep to-day—The silent God hath quenched my torch's ray,And the vain dream hath flown.
Upon thy darksome bridge, Eternity,I stand e'en now, dread thought!Take, then, these joy-credentials back from me!Unopened I return them now to thee,Of happiness, alas, know naught!
Before Thy throne my mournful cries I vent,Thou Judge, concealed from view!To yonder star a joyous saying wentWith judgment's scales to rule us thou art sent,And call'st thyself Requiter, too!
Here,—say they,—terrors on the bad alight,And joys to greet the virtuous spring.The bosom's windings thou'lt expose to sight,Riddle of Providence wilt solve aright,And reckon with the suffering!
Here to the exile be a home outspread,Here end the meek man's thorny path of strife!A godlike child, whose name was Truth, they said,Known but to few, from whom the many fled,Restrained the ardent bridle of my life.
"It shall be thine another life to live,—Thy youth to me surrender!To thee this surety only can I give"—I took the surety in that life to live;And gave to her each youthful joy so tender.
"Give me the woman precious to thy heart,Give up to me thy Laura!Beyond the grave will usury pay the smart."—I wept aloud, and from my bleeding heartWith resignation tore her.
"The obligation's drawn upon the dead!"Thus laughed the world in scorn;"The lying one, in league with despots dread,For truth, a phantom palmed on thee instead,Thou'lt be no more, when once this dream has gone!"
Shamelessly scoffed the mockers' serpent-band"A dream that but prescription can admitDost dread? Where now thy God's protecting hand,(The sick world's Saviour with such cunning planned),Borrowed by human need of human wit?"
"What future is't that graves to us reveal?What the eternity of thy discourse?Honored because dark veils its form conceal,The giant-shadows of the awe we feel,Viewed in the hollow mirror of remorse!"
"An image false of shapes of living mould,(Time's very mummy, she!)Whom only Hope's sweet balm hath power to holdWithin the chambers of the grave so cold,—Thy fever calls this immortality!"
"For empty hopes,—corruption gives the lie—Didst thou exchange what thou hadst surely done?Six thousand years sped death in silence by,—His corpse from out the grave e'er mounted high,That mention made of the Requiting One?"
I saw time fly to reach thy distant shore,I saw fair Nature lieA shrivelled corpse behind him evermore,—No dead from out the grave then sought to soarYet in that Oath divine still trusted I.
My ev'ry joy to thee I've sacrificed,I throw me now before thy judgment-throne;The many's scorn with boldness I've despised,—Only—thy gifts by me were ever prized,—I ask my wages now, Requiting One!
"With equal love I love each child of mine!"A genius hid from sight exclaimed."Two flowers," he cried, "ye mortals, mark the sign,—Two flowers to greet the Searcher wise entwine,—Hope and Enjoyment they are named."
"Who of these flowers plucks one, let him ne'er yearnTo touch the other sister's bloom.Let him enjoy, who has no faith; eterneAs earth, this truth!—Abstain, who faith can learn!The world's long story is the world's own doom."
"Hope thou hast felt,—thy wages, then, are paid;Thy faith 'twas formed the rapture pledged to thee.Thou might'st have of the wise inquiry made,—The minutes thou neglectest, as they fade,Are given back by no eternity!"
No! I this conflict longer will not wage,The conflict duty claims—the giant task;—Thy spells, O virtue, never can assuageThe heart's wild fire—this offering do not ask
True, I have sworn—a solemn vow have sworn,That I myself will curb the self within;Yet take thy wreath, no more it shall be worn—Take back thy wreath, and leave me free to sin.
Rent be the contract I with thee once made;—She loves me, loves me—forfeit be the crown!Blessed he who, lulled in rapture's dreamy shade,Glides, as I glide, the deep fall gladly down.
She sees the worm that my youth's bloom decays,She sees my spring-time wasted as it flees;And, marvelling at the rigor that gainsaysThe heart's sweet impulse, my reward decrees.
Distrust this angel purity, fair soul!It is to guilt thy pity armeth me;Could being lavish its unmeasured whole,It ne'er could give a gift to rival thee!
Thee—the dear guilt I ever seek to shun,O tyranny of fate, O wild desires!My virtue's only crown can but be wonIn that last breath—when virtue's self expires!
How gracefully, O man, with thy palm-bough,Upon the waning century standest thou,In proud and noble manhood's prime,With unlocked senses, with a spirit freed,Of firmness mild,—though silent, rich in deed,The ripest son of Time,Through meekness great, through precepts strong,Through treasures rich, that time had longHid in thy bosom, and through reason free,—Master of Nature, who thy fetters loves,And who thy strength in thousand conflicts proves,And from the desert soared in pride with thee!
Flushed with the glow of victory,Never forget to prize the handThat found the weeping orphan childDeserted on life's barren strand,And left a prey to hazard wild,—That, ere thy spirit-honor saw the day,Thy youthful heart watched over silently,And from thy tender bosom turned awayEach thought that might have stained its purity;That kind one ne'er forget who, as in sport,Thy youth to noble aspirations trained,And who to thee in easy riddles taughtThe secret how each virtue might be gained;Who, to receive him back more perfect still,E'en into strangers' arms her favorite gave—Oh, may'st thou never with degenerate will,Humble thyself to be her abject slave!In industry, the bee the palm may bear;In skill, the worm a lesson may impart;With spirits blest thy knowledge thou dost share,But thou, O man, alone hast art!
Only through beauty's morning gateDidst thou the land of knowledge find.To merit a more glorious fate,In graces trains itself the mind.What thrilled thee through with trembling blessed,When erst the Muses swept the chord,That power created in thy breast,Which to the mighty spirit soared.
When first was seen by doting reason's ken,When many a thousand years had passed away,A symbol of the fair and great e'en then,Before the childlike mind uncovered lay.Its blessed form bade us honor virtue's cause,—The honest sense 'gainst vice put forth its powers,Before a Solon had devised the lawsThat slowly bring to light their languid flowers.Before Eternity's vast schemeWas to the thinker's mind revealed,Was't not foreshadowed in his dream,Whose eyes explored yon starry field?
Urania,—the majestic dreaded one,Who wears a glory of Orions twinedAround her brow, and who is seen by noneSave purest spirits, when, in splendor shrined,She soars above the stars in pride,Ascending to her sunny throne,—Her fiery chaplet lays aside,And now, as beauty, stands alone;While, with the Graces' girdle round her cast,She seems a child, by children understood;For we shall recognize as truth at last,What here as beauty only we have viewed.
When the Creator banished from his sightFrail man to dark mortality's abode,And granted him a late return to light,Only by treading reason's arduous road,—When each immortal turned his face away,She, the compassionate, aloneTook up her dwelling in that house of clay,With the deserted, banished one.With drooping wing she hovers hereAround her darling, near the senses' land,And on his prison-walls so drearElysium paints with fond deceptive hand.
While soft humanity still lay at rest,Within her tender arms extended,No flame was stirred by bigots' murderous zest,No guiltless blood on high ascended.The heart that she in gentle fetters binds,Views duty's slavish escort scornfully;Her path of light, though fairer far it winds,Sinks in the sun-track of morality.Those who in her chaste service still remain,No grovelling thought can tempt, no fate affright;The spiritual life, so free from stain,Freedom's sweet birthright, they receive again,Under the mystic sway of holy might.
The purest among millions, happy theyWhom to her service she has sanctified,Whose mouths the mighty one's commands convey,Within whose breasts she deigneth to abide;Whom she ordained to feed her holy fireUpon her altar's ever-flaming pyre,—Whose eyes alone her unveiled graces meet,And whom she gathers round in union sweetIn the much-honored place be gladWhere noble order bade ye climb,For in the spirit-world sublime,Man's loftiest rank ye've ever had!
Ere to the world proportion ye revealed,That every being joyfully obeys,—A boundless structure, in night's veil concealed,Illumed by naught but faint and languid rays,A band of phantoms, struggling ceaselessly,Holding his mind in slavish fetters bound,Unsociable and rude as be,Assailing him on every side around,—Thus seemed to man creation in that day!United to surrounding forms aloneBy the blind chains the passions had put on,Whilst Nature's beauteous spirit fled awayUnfelt, untasted, and unknown.
And, as it hovered o'er with parting ray,Ye seized the shades so neighborly,With silent hand, with feeling mind,And taught how they might be combinedIn one firm bond of harmony.The gaze, light-soaring, felt uplifted then,When first the cedar's slender trunk it viewed;And pleasingly the ocean's crystal floodReflected back the dancing form again.Could ye mistake the look, with beauty fraught,That Nature gave to help ye on your way?The image floating on the billows taughtThe art the fleeting shadow to portray.
From her own being torn apart,Her phantom, beauteous as a dream,She plunged into the silvery stream,Surrendering to her spoiler's art.Creative power soon in your breast unfolded;Too noble far, not idly to conceive,The shadow's form in sand, in clay ye moulded,And made it in the sketch its being leave.The longing thirst for action then awoke,—And from your breast the first creation broke.
By contemplation captive made,Ensnared by your discerning eye,The friendly phantom's soon betrayedThe talisman that roused your ecstasy.The laws of wonder-working might,The stores by beauty brought to light,Inventive reason in soft union plannedTo blend together 'neath your forming hand.The obelisk, the pyramid ascended,The Hermes stood, the column sprang on high,The reed poured forth the woodland melody,Immortal song on victor's deeds attended.
The fairest flowers that decked the earth,Into a nosegay, with wise choice combined,Thus the first art from Nature had its birth;Into a garland then were nosegays twined,And from the works that mortal hands had made,A second, nobler art was now displayed.The child of beauty, self-sufficient now,That issued from your hands to perfect day,Loses the chaplet that adorned its brow,Soon as reality asserts its sway.The column, yielding to proportion's chains,Must with its sisters join in friendly link,The hero in the hero-band must sink,The Muses' harp peals forth its tuneful strains.
The wondering savages soon cameTo view the new creation's plan"Behold!"—the joyous crowds exclaim,—"Behold, all this is done by man!"With jocund and more social aimThe minstrel's lyre their awe awoke,Telling of Titans, and of giant's fraysAnd lion-slayers, turning, as he spoke,Even into heroes those who heard his lays.For the first time the soul feels joy,By raptures blessed that calmer are,That only greet it from afar,That passions wild can ne'er destroy,And that, when tasted, do not cloy.
And now the spirit, free and fair,Awoke from out its sensual sleep;By you unchained, the slave of careInto the arms of joy could leap.Each brutish barrier soon was set at naught,Humanity first graced the cloudless brow,And the majestic, noble stranger, thought,From out the wondering brain sprang boldly now.Man in his glory stood upright,And showed the stars his kingly face;His speaking glance the sun's bright lightBlessed in the realms sublime of space.Upon the cheek now bloomed the smile,The voice's soulful harmonyExpanded into song the while,And feeling swam in the moist eye;And from the mouth, with spirit teeming o'er,Jest, sweetly linked with grace, began to pour.
Sunk in the instincts of the worm,By naught but sensual lust possessed,Ye recognized within his breastLove-spiritual's noble germ;And that this germ of love so blestEscaped the senses' abject load,To the first pastoral song he owed.Raised to the dignity of thought,Passions more calm to flow were taughtFrom the bard's mouth with melody.The cheeks with dewy softness burned;The longing that, though quenched, still yearned,Proclaimed the spirit-harmony.
The wisest's wisdom, and the strongest's vigor,—The meekest's meekness, and the noblest's grace,By you were knit together in one figure,Wreathing a radiant glory round the place.Man at the Unknown's sight must tremble,Yet its refulgence needs must love;That mighty Being to resemble,Each glorious hero madly strove;The prototype of beauty's earliest strainYe made resound through Nature's wide domain.
The passions' wild and headlong course,The ever-varying plan of fate,Duty and instinct's twofold force,With proving mind and guidance straightYe then conducted to their ends.What Nature, as she moves along,Far from each other ever rends,Become upon the stage, in song,Members of order, firmly bound.Awed by the Furies' chorus dread,Murder draws down upon its headThe doom of death from their wild sound.Long e'er the wise to give a verdict dared,An Iliad had fate's mysteries declaredTo early ages from afar;While Providence in silence faredInto the world from Thespis' car.Yet into that world's current so sublimeYour symmetry was borne before its time,When the dark hand of destinyFailed in your sight to part by force.
What it had fashioned 'neath your eye,In darkness life made haste to die,Ere it fulfilled its beauteous course.Then ye with bold and self-sufficient mightLed the arch further through the future's night:Then, too, ye plunged, without a fear,Into Avernus' ocean black,And found the vanished life so dearBeyond the urn, and brought it back.A blooming Pollux-form appeared now soon,On Castor leaning, and enshrined in light—The shadow that is seen upon the moon,Ere she has filled her silvery circle bright!
Yet higher,—higher still above the earthInventive genius never ceased to rise:Creations from creations had their birth,And harmonies from harmonies.What here alone enchants the ravished sight,A nobler beauty yonder must obey;The graceful charms that in the nymph unite,In the divine Athene melt away;The strength with which the wrestler is endowed,In the god's beauty we no longer find:The wonder of his time—Jove's image proud—In the Olympian temple is enshrined.
The world, transformed by industry's bold hand,The human heart, by new-born instincts moved,That have in burning fights been fully proved,Your circle of creation now expand.Advancing man bears on his soaring pinions,In gratitude, art with him in his flight,And out of Nature's now-enriched dominionsNew worlds of beauty issue forth to light.The barriers upon knowledge are o'erthrown;The spirit that, with pleasure soon matured,Has in your easy triumphs been inuredTo hasten through an artist-whole of graces,Nature's more distant columns duly places.And overtakes her on her pathway lone.He weighs her now with weights that human are,Metes her with measures that she lent of old;While in her beauty's rites more practised far,She now must let his eye her form behold.With youthful and self-pleasing bliss,He lends the spheres his harmony,And, if he praise earth's edifice,'Tis for its wondrous symmetry.
In all that now around him breathes,Proportion sweet is ever rife;And beauty's golden girdle wreathesWith mildness round his path through life;Perfection blest, triumphantly,Before him in your works soars high;Wherever boisterous rapture swells,Wherever silent sorrow flees,Where pensive contemplation dwells,Where he the tears of anguish sees,Where thousand terrors on him glare,Harmonious streams are yet behind—He sees the Graces sporting there,With feeling silent and refined.Gentle as beauty's lines together linking,As the appearances that round him play,In tender outline in each other sinking,The soft breath of his life thus fleets away.His spirit melts in the harmonious sea,That, rich in rapture, round his senses flows,And the dissolving thought all silentlyTo omnipresent Cytherea grows.Joining in lofty union with the Fates,On Graces and on Muses calm relying,With freely-offered bosom he awaitsThe shaft that soon against him will be flyingFrom the soft bow necessity creates.
Favorites beloved of blissful harmony,Welcome attendants on life's dreary road,The noblest and the dearest far that she,Who gave us life, to bless that life bestowed!That unyoked man his duties bears in mind,And loves the fetters that his motions bind,That Chance with brazen sceptre rules him not,—For this eternity is now your lot,Your heart has won a bright reward for this.That round the cup where freedom flows,Merrily sport the gods of bliss,—The beauteous dream its fragrance throws,For this, receive a loving kiss!
The spirit, glorious and serene,Who round necessity the graces trains,—Who bids his ether and his starry plainsUpon us wait with pleasing mien,—Who, 'mid his terrors, by his majesty gives joy,And who is beauteous e'en when seeking to destroy,—Him imitate, the artist good!As o'er the streamlet's crystal floodThe banks with checkered dances hover,The flowery mead, the sunset's light,—Thus gleams, life's barren pathway over,Poesy's shadowy world so bright.In bridal dress ye led us onBefore the terrible Unknown,Before the inexorable fate,As in your urns the bones are laid,With beauteous magic veil ye shadeThe chorus dread that cares create.Thousands of years I hastened throughThe boundless realm of vanished timeHow sad it seems when left by you—But where ye linger, how sublime!
She who, with fleeting wing, of yoreFrom your creating hand arose in might,Within your arms was found once more,When, vanquished by Time's silent flight,Life's blossoms faded from the cheek,And from the limbs all vigor went,And mournfully, with footstep weak,Upon his staff the gray-beard leant.Then gave ye to the languishing,Life's waters from a new-born spring;Twice was the youth of time renewed,Twice, from the seeds that ye had strewed.
When chased by fierce barbarian hordes away,The last remaining votive brand ye toreFrom Orient's altars, now pollution's prey,And to these western lands in safety bore.The fugitive from yonder eastern shore,The youthful day, the West her dwelling made;And on Hesperia's plains sprang up once moreIonia's flowers, in pristine bloom arrayed.Over the spirit fairer Nature shed,With soft refulgence, a reflection bright,And through the graceful soul with stately treadAdvanced the mighty Deity of light.Millions of chains were burst asunder then,And to the slave then human laws applied,And mildly rose the younger race of men,As brethren, gently wandering side by side,With noble inward ecstasy,The bliss imparted ye receive,And in the veil of modesty,With silent merit take your leave.If on the paths of thought, so freely given,The searcher now with daring fortune stands,And, by triumphant Paeans onward driven,Would seize upon the crown with dauntless hands—If he with grovelling hireling's payThinks to dismiss his glorious guide—Or, with the first slave's-place arrayArt near the throne his dream supplied—Forgive him!—O'er your head to-dayHovers perfection's crown in pride,With you the earliest plant Spring had,Soul-forming Nature first began;With you, the harvest-chaplet glad,Perfected Nature ends her plan.
The art creative, that all-modestly aroseFrom clay and stone, with silent triumph throwsIts arms around the spirit's vast domain.What in the land of knowledge the discoverer knows,He knows, discovers, only for your gainThe treasures that the thinker has amassed,He will enjoy within your arms alone,Soon as his knowledge, beauty-ripe at last.To art ennobled shall have grown,—Soon as with you he scales a mountain-height,And there, illumined by the setting sun,The smiling valley bursts upon his sight.The richer ye reward the eager gazeThe higher, fairer orders that the mindMay traverse with its magic rays,Or compass with enjoyment unconfined—The wider thoughts and feelings open lieTo more luxuriant floods of harmony.To beauty's richer, more majestic stream,—The fair members of the world's vast scheme,That, maimed, disgrace on his creation bring,He sees the lofty forms then perfecting—
The fairer riddles come from out the night—The richer is the world his arms enclose,The broader stream the sea with which he flows—The weaker, too, is destiny's blind might—The nobler instincts does he prove—The smaller he himself, the greater grows his love.Thus is he led, in still and hidden race,By poetry, who strews his path with flowers,Through ever-purer forms, and purer powers,Through ever higher heights, and fairer grace.At length, arrived at the ripe goal of time,—Yet one more inspiration all-sublime,Poetic outburst of man's latest youth,And—he will glide into the arms of truth!
Herself, the gentle Cypria,Illumined by her fiery crown,Then stands before her full-grown sonUnveiled—as great Urania;The sooner only by him caught,The fairer he had fled away!Thus stood, in wonder rapture-fraught,Ulysses' noble son that day,When the sage mentor who his youth beguiled;Herself transfigured as Jove's glorious child!
Man's honor is confided to your hand,—There let it well protected be!It sinks with you! with you it will expand!Poesy's sacred sorceryObeys a world-plan wise and good;In silence let it swell the floodOf mighty-rolling harmony.
By her own time viewed with disdain,Let solemn truth in song remain,And let the Muses' band defend her!In all the fullness of her splendor,Let her survive in numbers glorious,More dread, when veiled her charms appear,And vengeance take, with strains victorious,On her tormentor's ear!
The freest mother's children free,With steadfast countenance then riseTo highest beauty's radiancy,And every other crown despise!The sisters who escaped you here,Within your mother's arms ye'll meet;What noble spirits may revere,Must be deserving and complete.High over your own course of timeExalt yourselves with pinion bold,And dimly let your glass sublimeThe coming century unfold!On thousand roads advancing fastOf ever-rich variety,With fond embraces meet at lastBefore the throne of harmony!As into seven mild rays we viewWith softness break the glimmer white,As rainbow-beams of sevenfold hueDissolve again in that soft light,In clearness thousandfold thus throwYour magic round the ravished gaze,—Into one stream of light thus flow,—One bond of truth that ne'er decays!