 | The Vow of the Peacock, and Other Poems |  |
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L'AMORE DOMINATORE.
They built a temple for the God,
'Twas in a myrtle grove,
Where the bee and the butterfly
Vied for each blossom's love.
'Twas in a myrtle grove,
Where the bee and the butterfly
Vied for each blossom's love.
The marble pillars rose like snow,
Glittering in the sunshine:
A thousand roses shed their breath,
Like incense, o'er the shrine.
Glittering in the sunshine:
A thousand roses shed their breath,
Like incense, o'er the shrine.
And there were censers of perfume,
Vases with their sweet showers,
And wreaths of every blended hue
That lights the summer flowers.
Vases with their sweet showers,
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That lights the summer flowers.
And, like the breathing of those flowers
Made audible, a sound
Came, lulling as a waterfall,
From lutes and voices 'round.
Made audible, a sound
Came, lulling as a waterfall,
From lutes and voices 'round.
I looked upon the altar,—there
The pictured semblance lay
Of him the temple's lord; it shone
More beautiful than day.
The pictured semblance lay
Of him the temple's lord; it shone
More beautiful than day.
It was a sleeping child, as fair
As the first-born of spring;
Like Indian gold waved the bright curls
In many a sunny ring.
As the first-born of spring;
Like Indian gold waved the bright curls
In many a sunny ring.
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His cheek was flushed with its own rose,
And with the crimson shed
From the rich wings that like a cloud
Were o'er his slumbers spread.
And with the crimson shed
From the rich wings that like a cloud
Were o'er his slumbers spread.
And by him lay his feathered shafts,
His golden bow unbent;—
Methought that, even in his sleep,
His smile was on them sent.
His golden bow unbent;—
Methought that, even in his sleep,
His smile was on them sent.
I heard them hymn his name—his power,—
I heard them, and I smiled;
How could they say the earth was ruled
By but a sleeping child?
I heard them, and I smiled;
How could they say the earth was ruled
By but a sleeping child?
I went then forth into the world
To see what might be there;
And there I heard a voice of wo,
Of weeping, and despair.
To see what might be there;
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Of weeping, and despair.
I saw a youthful warrior stand
In his first light of fame,—
His native city filled the air
With her deliverer's name.
In his first light of fame,—
His native city filled the air
With her deliverer's name.
I saw him hurry from the crowd,
And fling his laurel crown,
In weariness, in hopelessness,
In utter misery, down.
And fling his laurel crown,
In weariness, in hopelessness,
In utter misery, down.
And what the sorrow, then I asked,
Can thus the warrior move
To scorn his meed of victory?
They told me it was Love.
Can thus the warrior move
To scorn his meed of victory?
They told me it was Love.
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I sought the forum, there was one
With dark and haughty brow,—
His voice was as the trumpet's tone,
Mine ear rings with it now.
With dark and haughty brow,—
His voice was as the trumpet's tone,
Mine ear rings with it now.
They quailed before his flashing eye,—
They watched his lightest word,—
When suddenly that eye was dim,
That voice no longer heard.
They watched his lightest word,—
When suddenly that eye was dim,
That voice no longer heard.
I looked upon his lonely hour,
The weary solitude;
When over dark and bitter thoughts
The sick heart's left to brood.
The weary solitude;
When over dark and bitter thoughts
The sick heart's left to brood.
I marked the haughty spirit's strife
To rend its bonds in vain:
Again I asked the cause of ill,
And heard Love's name again.
To rend its bonds in vain:
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And heard Love's name again.
Yet on I went: I thought that Love
To woman's gentle heart,
Perhaps, had flung a lighter shaft,
Had given a fairer part.
To woman's gentle heart,
Perhaps, had flung a lighter shaft,
Had given a fairer part.
I looked upon a lovely face,
Lit by a large dark eye;
But on the lash there was a tear,
And on the lip a sigh.
Lit by a large dark eye;
But on the lash there was a tear,
And on the lip a sigh.
I asked not why that form had drooped,
Nor why that cheek was pale?
I heard the maiden's twilight song,
It told me all her tale.
Nor why that cheek was pale?
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It told me all her tale.
I saw an urn, and round it hung
An April diadem
Of flowers, telling they mourned one
Faded and fair like them.
An April diadem
Of flowers, telling they mourned one
Faded and fair like them.
I turned to tales of other days,
They spoke of breath and bloom;
And proud hearts that were bow'd by Love
Into an early tomb.
They spoke of breath and bloom;
And proud hearts that were bow'd by Love
Into an early tomb.
I heard of every suffering
That on this earth can be:
How can they call a sleeping child
A likeness, Love, of thee?
That on this earth can be:
How can they call a sleeping child
A likeness, Love, of thee?
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They cannot paint thee:—let them dream
A dark and nameless thing.
Why give the likeness of the dove
Where is the serpent's sting?
A dark and nameless thing.
Why give the likeness of the dove
Where is the serpent's sting?
| The Vow of the Peacock, and Other Poems | |