The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

For now, indeed, the trembling Minyæ
Beheld the daughters of the earth and sea,
The dreadful Snatchers, who like women were
Down to the breast, with scanty coarse black hair
About their heads, and dim eyes ringed with red,
And bestial mouths set round with lips of lead,
But from their gnarled necks there began to spring
Half hair, half feathers, and a sweeping wing
Grew out instead of arm on either side,
And thick plumes underneath the breast did hide
The place where joined the fearful natures twain.
Grey-feathered were they else, with many a stain
Of blood thereon, and on birds' claws they went.

These through the hall unheard-of shrieking sent,
And rushed at Phineus, just as to his mouth
He raised the golden cup to quench his drouth,
And scattered the red wine, and buffeted
The wretched king, and one, perched on his head,
Laughed as the Furies laugh, when kings come down
To lead new lives within the fiery town,
And said: “O Phineus, thou art lucky now
The hidden things of heaven and hell to know;
Eat, happy man, and drink.” Then did she draw

From off the dish a gobbet with her claw,
And held it nigh his mouth, the while he strove
To free his arm, that one hovering above,
Within her filthy vulture-claws clutched tight,
And cried out at him: “Truly, in dark night
Thou seest, Phineus, as the leopard doth.”

Then cried the third: “Fool, who would fain have both,
Delight and knowledge! therefore, with blind eyes
Clothe thee in purple, wrought with braveries,
And set the pink-veined marble 'neath thy throne;
Then on its golden cushions sit alone,
Hearkening thy chain-galled slaves without, singing
For joy, that they behold so many a thing.”

Then shrieked the first one in a dreadful voice:
“And I, O Phineus, bid thee to rejoice,
That 'midst thy knowledge still thou know'st not this—
Whose flesh the lips, wherewith thy lips I kiss,
This morn have fed on.” Then she laughed again,
And fawning on him, with her sisters twain
Spread her wide wings, and hid him from the sight,
And mixed his groans with screams of shrill delight.

Now trembling sat the seafarers, nor dared
To use the weapons from their sheaths half-bared,
Fearing the Gods, who there before their eyes,
Had shown them with what shame and miseries
They visit impious men: yet from the board
There started two with shield and ready sword,
The Northwind's offspring; fearless they and wise,
Their father's children: dight in such-like guise
As well availed them: so, when Phineus knew,
By his divine art, that the godlike two
Were armed to help him, then from 'twixt the wings
He cried aloud: “O heroes, more than kings,
Strike and fear not, but set me free to-day,
That ye within your brazen chests may lay
The best of all my treasure-house doth hold,
Fair linen, scarlet cloth, and well-wrought gold!”

Then shrieked the Snatchers, knowing certainly
That now the time had come when they must fly
From pleasant Salmydessa, casting off
The joys they had in shameful mock and scoff.
So gat they from the blind king, leaving him
Pale and forewearied in his every limb;
And, flying through the roof, they set them down
Above the hall-doors, 'mid the timbers brown,
Chattering with fury. Then the fair-dyed wings
Opened upon the shoulders of the kings,
And on their heels, and shouting they uprose,
And poised themselves in air to meet their foes.

Then here and there these loathly things did wheel
Before the brazen shields and restless steel,
But as they flew, unlucky words they cried.

The first said: “Hail, O folk who wander wide,
Seeking a foolish thing across the sea,
Not heeding in what case your houses be,
Where now perchance the rovers cast the brand
Up to the roof, and leading by the hand
The fair-limbed women with their fettered feet
Pass down the sands, their hollow ship to meet.”

“Fair hap to him who weds the sorceress,”
The second cried, “and may the just Gods bless
The slayer of his kindred and his name.”

“Luck to the toilsome seeker after fame,”
The third one from the open hall-door cried,
“Fare ye well, Jason, still unsatisfied,
Still seeking for a better thing than best,
A fairer thing than fairest, without rest;
Good speed, O traitor, who shall think to wed
Soft limbs and white, and find thy royal bed
Dripping with blood, and burning up with fire;
Good hap to him who henceforth ne'er shall tire
In seeking good that ever flies his hand
Till he lies buried in an alien land!”

So screamed the monstrous fowl, but now the twain
Sprung from the Northwind's loins to be their bane,
Drew nigh unto them; then, with huddled wings,
Forth from the hall they gat, but evil things
In flying they gave forth with weakened voice,
Saying unto them: “O ye men, rejoice,
Whose bodies worms shall feed on soon or late,
Blind slaves and foolish of unsparing Fate,
Seeking for that which ye can never get,
Whilst life and death alike ye do forget
In needless strife, until on some sure day,
Death takes your scarcely tasted life away.”

Quivering their voices ceased as on they flew
Before the swift wings of the godlike two
Far over land and sea, until they were
Anigh the isles called Strophades, and there,
With tired wings all voiceless did they light,
Trembling to see anigh the armour bright
The wind-born brothers bore; but as these drew
Their gleaming swords and towards the monsters flew,
From out the deep rose up a black-haired man,
Who, standing on the white-topped waves that ran
On towards the shore, cried: “Heroes, turn again,
For on this islet shall ye land in vain;
But without sorrow leave the chase of these
Who henceforth 'mid the rocky Strophades
Shall dwell for ever, servants unto me,
Working my will; therefore rejoice that ye
Win gifts and honour for your deed to-day.”

Then, even as he spoke, they saw but grey
White-headed waves rolling where he had stood,
Whereat they sheathed their swords, and through their blood
A tremor ran, for now they knew that he
Was Neptune, shaker of the earth and sea;
Therefore they turned them back unto the hall
Where yet the others were, and ere nightfall
Came back to Salmydessa and the king,

And lighting down they told him of the thing.

Who, hearing them, straight lifted up his voice,
And 'midst the shouts cried: “Heroes, now rejoice
With me who am delivered on this day
From that which took all hope and joy away;
Therefore to feast again, until the sun
Another glad day for us has begun,
And then, indeed, if ye must try the sea,
With gifts and counsel shall ye go from me;
Such as the Gods have given to me to give,
And happy lives and glorious may ye live.”

Then did they fall to banqueting again,
Forgetting all forebodings and all pain;
And when that they had ate and drank enow,
With songs and music and a goodly show
Their hearts were gladdened; for before their eyes
Played youths and damsels with strange fantasies,
Clad as in Saturn's time folk used to be,
With green leaves gathered from the summer tree,
When all the year was summer everywhere,
And every man and woman blest and fair.

So, set 'twixt pleasure and some soft regret,
All cares of mortal men did they forget,
Except the vague wish that they might not die,
The hopeless hope to flee from certainty,
Which sights and sounds we love will bring on us
In this sweet fleeting world and piteous.