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214

Telchines of Rhodes on Hippocamps and Sea-dragons. Sirens, Proteus, Thales, Homunculus.
Telchines of Rhodes
(holding Neptune's trident).
The Trident, with which the vexed billows' commotion
He calms, we have forged for the Monarch of Ocean.
O'er the heavens if his thick clouds the Thunderer spread,
Poseidon replies to the roll overhead.
To the flare of forked lightnings above will the spray
Of billows below flash terrific as they;
And the wreck, by the wild wind in agony tossed,
Whirling round in the sea-gulfs is swallowed and lost.
The Sea-god, propitious this festival night,
To us hath entrusted his sceptre of might,
That our path on the waves may be peaceful and bright.

Sirens.
Hail ye, each and every one,
Dedicated to the Sun!

215

Hail, in the mysterious hour
Sacred to his sister's power.
Priests are ye of Helios bright:
This is Luna's festal night.

Telchines.
Queen of the bow, whose delight in the skies
Are the songs from the earth to thy brother that rise.
To Rhodes, the glad island, an ear dost thou lend,
Where pæans for ever like incense ascend.
How brightly at morning smiles on us the sun—
How brightly at eve, when his day-course is run.
Mountains and cities—shore, waters—all here
In his eyes are well pleasing—are cloudless and clear.
If a wreath of thin vapour the blue heaven obscure:
A beam and a breeze and the island is pure.
Here a hundred bright forms of himself meet his sight—
Now Giant, now Stripling—all Mildness, all Might
Here, in this glorious land, Sculpture began—
Gods and the god-like to image in Man.

Proteus.
Let them sing and shout away.
These dead works! Oh! what are they
To the beams of the bright sun—
To the living ray?

216

They shape, they melt, reshape the mass,
And deem a something done.
What is at last the fate
Of these proud gods of brass?
Grand stood the image-gods and great:
An earthquake shook them from their state.
Melted again, again into new moulds they pass.
Earth's movements, whatsoe'er they be,
Obstruction are and drudgery.
Life and the living waves agree.
To the waters come with me!
To the Everlasting Sea!
Proteus-Dolphin carries thee (changes himself)
.

'Tis done, 'tis done. The triumph's won:
Thy crowning destiny!
On my back I carry thee!
To the Ocean marry thee!

Thales.
Go! Sure way the goal of winning
Is, ‘begin with the beginning,’
With him to the waters thou,
Active life awaits thee now.
On from forms to new forms ranging,
Still obeying laws unchanging,
Till at last you're landed at
Man. 'Twill take some time to that.


217

[Proteus has assumed the shape of a dolphin, and takes Homunculus on his back.
Proteus.
In the Spirit come! In Ocean
Sport thee—in the free wave wide.
Thine own joy to every motion
Still the impulse, still the guide!
Happy, while in unforeseeing,
Unreflecting germs alive;
But to higher states of being
In thy yearnings never strive.
As to Man—once there, you're done up—
The game's over—all the fun up.

Thales.
That's as may happen. Is it nothing, then,
To be a man distinguished 'mong the men
Of one's own time?

Proteus
(to Thales).
One of your stamp and style
May no doubt be remembered some short while.
'Mong the pale crowds of Spirits yours appears
One noticeable for a thousand years.