 | Silenus |  |
We do not chatter idle words of thee,
Silenus; knowing thou wert huge and bald;
Thy lingering locks but loose, and scanty gray;
Thy smiling eyes were moist, and vague thy lips;
And thy limbs creased with fatness like a babe's.
These plain defects, an easy gibe for churls,
Awoke within our hearts no pleasantry.
Whatever fair reproach might cleave to thee
We ever loved thee and thy gentle voice;
Thy gentle voice that patiently disclosed
What heretofore our eyes had never seen
Our ears had never heard:
Silenus; knowing thou wert huge and bald;
Thy lingering locks but loose, and scanty gray;
Thy smiling eyes were moist, and vague thy lips;
And thy limbs creased with fatness like a babe's.
These plain defects, an easy gibe for churls,
Awoke within our hearts no pleasantry.
Whatever fair reproach might cleave to thee
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Thy gentle voice that patiently disclosed
What heretofore our eyes had never seen
Our ears had never heard:
Why sharply edged
The driven scud of heaven against the wind,
And birds their spring notes sang so lustily;
How the bees, seeking honey for themselves,
Ministered singing to the loves of flowers;
How flowers, when in their fullest beauty bright
Could lure winged riflers to the fruits' increase;
And why on one cheek alway blushes fruit.
Thou wouldst unweariedly narrate to us
The stories of the trees; and why they turned
To this incline or that; why at a slope
Whole forest flanks swerved inland from the shore
Thrifty of leaf; and why some drooping sought
Shelter from light, to root in earth again;
While others proudly, with exalted points
Trembling in sapphire, whispered to the wind.
The driven scud of heaven against the wind,
And birds their spring notes sang so lustily;
How the bees, seeking honey for themselves,
Ministered singing to the loves of flowers;
How flowers, when in their fullest beauty bright
Could lure winged riflers to the fruits' increase;
And why on one cheek alway blushes fruit.
Thou wouldst unweariedly narrate to us
The stories of the trees; and why they turned
To this incline or that; why at a slope
Whole forest flanks swerved inland from the shore
Thrifty of leaf; and why some drooping sought
Shelter from light, to root in earth again;
While others proudly, with exalted points
Trembling in sapphire, whispered to the wind.
134
It did not, loved Silenus, make us love
These tales the less because male creatures scoffed,
Calling them little and of little worth.
We loved them with thee; now we love them more,
Having lost both the Teacher and his tunes.
These tales the less because male creatures scoffed,
Calling them little and of little worth.
We loved them with thee; now we love them more,
Having lost both the Teacher and his tunes.
Our lords have arms of strength, and hold their spears
As weapons well in use; and with them we
Dread neither panther's teeth nor tusk of boar;
For deft are they with bow and arrows winged
To fell or check the hare and stag at speed;
But all their talk is ambush, capture, spoil;
Food, drink, and clothing; and the store for fires.
Our lords so little heed the joy around,
The sweetest flower asks vainly for a smile;
Unnoticed ring the woodland melodies,
And march the clouds of noon without regard.
Therefore do we on our permitted days
Heap the red roses on thy sacred rock.
Our lords believe the sacrifice we bring
Will add fresh clusters and protect their vines,
And they, remembering Dryantiades' fate,
Are gruffly lenient toward the rites we pay.
As weapons well in use; and with them we
Dread neither panther's teeth nor tusk of boar;
For deft are they with bow and arrows winged
To fell or check the hare and stag at speed;
But all their talk is ambush, capture, spoil;
Food, drink, and clothing; and the store for fires.
Our lords so little heed the joy around,
The sweetest flower asks vainly for a smile;
Unnoticed ring the woodland melodies,
And march the clouds of noon without regard.
135
Heap the red roses on thy sacred rock.
Our lords believe the sacrifice we bring
Will add fresh clusters and protect their vines,
And they, remembering Dryantiades' fate,
Are gruffly lenient toward the rites we pay.
Our sweetest dreams are dreams of memory,
During the toilsome day, when lacking hope,
We wander backward in the olden time
And gather round thy feet to hear thy tales
Of Gods and Demigods, and favoured maids;
Of Goddesses who deigned to mortal love;
And dreadful monsters slain by strength divine.
Children of duty and obedience,
As these of ours, brought forth in nature's course,
Babble a duller music than the babes
Of love. Kindly we use our helpless ones;
All things are kindly to their tender young;
But children they of our lords' will, not ours,
We seem not nursing our own kith and kin.
During the toilsome day, when lacking hope,
We wander backward in the olden time
And gather round thy feet to hear thy tales
Of Gods and Demigods, and favoured maids;
Of Goddesses who deigned to mortal love;
And dreadful monsters slain by strength divine.
Children of duty and obedience,
As these of ours, brought forth in nature's course,
Babble a duller music than the babes
Of love. Kindly we use our helpless ones;
All things are kindly to their tender young;
But children they of our lords' will, not ours,
We seem not nursing our own kith and kin.
136
Our fathers said the ruling Gods were just;
And haply, when our bones are laid at rest,
In the Elysian Fields our shades may meet
The lovers of our souls we never found;
When looking back, this loveless life of ours
Will be remembered as a feverish dream,
Where thine own hand was guide and comforter,
Saving us from the pitfalls of despair.
Our tears, affection, memory, all are thine.
Our solace thou art now. Our sweetest hopes,
That ever beck with smiles of welcoming,
Are in some way we know not mixed with thee.
And haply, when our bones are laid at rest,
In the Elysian Fields our shades may meet
The lovers of our souls we never found;
When looking back, this loveless life of ours
Will be remembered as a feverish dream,
Where thine own hand was guide and comforter,
Saving us from the pitfalls of despair.
Our tears, affection, memory, all are thine.
Our solace thou art now. Our sweetest hopes,
That ever beck with smiles of welcoming,
Are in some way we know not mixed with thee.
| Silenus | |