The Works of Thomas Love Peacock :: :: University of Virginia Library

277

Canto the Second

Αλλαλαις λαλεουσι τεον γαμον αι κυπαρισσοι. ΘΕΟΚΡΙΤΟΣ.

Tempestates, venteique sequuntur,
Altitonans Volturnus, et Auster flumine pollens.
Lucretius.

I

Spake the dark genius truly, when she said,
That Ahrimanes rules this mundane ball?
That man, in toil and darkness doomed to tread,
Ambition's slave and superstition's thrall,
Doth only on the power of evil call,
With hymn, and prayer, and votive altar's blaze?
Alas! wherever guiltless victims fall,
Wherever priest the sword of strife displays,
Small trace remains, I ween, of ancient Oromaze.

278

II

Yet if on earth a single spot there be,
Where fraud, corruption, selfishness and pride
Wear not the specious robes of sanctity,
With hypocritic malice to divide
The bonds of love and peace by nature tied
'Twixt man and man, far as the billows roll,—
Where idle tales, that truth and sense deride,
Claim no dominion o'er the subject soul;—
There Oromazes still exerts his mild control.

III

But not in fanes where priestly curses ring,—
Not in the venal court,—the servile camp,—
Not where the slaves of a voluptuous king
Would fain o'erwhelm, in flattery's poison-damp,
Truth's vestal torch and love's Promethean lamp—
Not where the tools of tyrants bite the ground,
Mid broken swords, and steed's ensanguined tramp,
To add one gem to those that now surround
Some pampered baby's brow—may trace of him be found.

IV

The star of day rolled on the radiant hours,
And sunk again behind the western steep.
The dew of twilight bathed the closing flowers.
The full-orbed moon, amid the empyreal deep,
Restored the reign of silence and of sleep.
Again Darassah seeks the moonlight shore,
But comes not now in solitude to weep:

279

He leads the maid his inmost thoughts adore,
To tempt with him the stream, and unknown scenes explore.

V

A bark is on the shore: the rippling wave
With gentle murmur chafes against its sides.
Shrinks not the maid that barrier-rock to brave,
Whose jutting base the eddying river chides?
Fear finds no place, where mightier love presides.
They press the bark: the waters gently flow:
The light sail swells: the steady vessel glides:
The favoring breeze still follows as they go:
They pass the barrier-rock: they haste to weal or woe.

VI

He holds the helm: beside him sits the maid:
Her arms around her lover's form are twined:
Her head upon her lover's breast is laid:
Pressed to his heart, in tenderest rest reclined,
Lulled by the symphony of wave and wind,
To lonely isles and citron-groves she flies
(By fancy's spell in fondest dreams enshrined),
Where love, and health, and peaceful thoughts suffice,
To renovate the bowers of earthly paradise.

VII

Less pure Darassah's thoughts: ambition's spell
Had touched his soul, and dreams of power and fame;

280

But feeble yet, and vague: nor knew he well,
Whence those disturbed imaginations came,
That touched his breast with no benignant flame.
No state too proud, no destiny too high,
For her he loved his wildest thought could frame.
What might not that mysterious ring supply,
That now had given her love, and life, and liberty?

VIII

But the calm elements—the placid moon—
The stars, that round her rolled in still array—
The plaintive breeze—the stream's responsive tune—
The rapid water's silver-eddying play,
That tracked in lines of light their onward way—
The solemn rocks, in massy shade that frowned—
The groves where light and darkness chequering lay—
Breathed on his mind the peace that reigned around,
And checked each turbid thought that erst had entrance found.

IX

The nightingale sang sweetly in the shade:
The dewy rose breathed fragrance on the air.
Who now more blest than that fond youth and maid,
Whom the swift waters of Araxes bear,
One common lot, or good or ill, to share?
If ill—light falls the shaft of adverse fate,
When mutual love assuages mutual care:
If good—can bliss the feeling mind await,
Unless one tender heart its joys participate?

281

X

So thought Kelasris, wrapped in dreams of hope;
Nor deemed how soon, in time's delusive reign,
The brightest tints of youthful fancy's scope
Fade in the vast reality of pain,
That speaks the omnipotence of Ahrimane.
But while the light bark glided fast and free,
And not a cloud obscured the ethereal plain,
The gale—the stream—the night-bird's melody—
Touched in her soul the chords of tenderer harmony.

XI

The stars grow pale, and o'er the western verge
Of heaven the moon her parting orb suspends.
She sinks behind the hill. The eddying surge
Reflects the deepening blush that morning lends
To eastern mountain's top, where softly blends
Its misty outline with the reddening sky.
Tow'rd heaven's high arch the lark exulting tends:
Lost in the depth, invisible on high,
He makes the rocks resound with his sweet minstrelsy.

XII

The sun comes forth upon the mountain-top:
The wide earth feels his vivifying sway:
The dewy flowers unclose, and every drop
Light-trembling on the leaf—the moss—the spray—
Beams like a diamond in the streams of day:
All nature glitters like an orient bride,
Whom countless gems and purest flowers array.

282

The scattered mountain-mist flies fast and wide,
Like incense to the shrine of morning's radiant pride.

XIII

The bark glides swiftly on: new scenes expand,
In day's full splendor now distinctly seen.
The light acacia blooms along the strand.
Deep groves of pine, where laurels wave between,
Rear their dark tufts of everlasting green:
The sun-beams on the glossy laurel play,
A trembling flood of silver radiance sheen.
Now the vast oak o'ercanopies their way;
And now the beetling crag, with sapless lichens gray.

XIV

Far on the left the lessening rocks recede:
A plain extends, a wide luxuriant plain;
One fair expanse of grove and flowery mead,
And field, wide-waving with unripened grain;
Of industry and peace the blest domain!
The tinkling sheep-bell gave a pleasant sound;
And youths and maids were there, a cheerful train;
And rosy children gambolled on the ground,
Where peeped the cottage forth from many a sylvan mound.

It is possible to sacrifice victims—human victims— without cutting their throats or shedding a drop of their blood, and that too under the name and with the specious forms of justice. It is possible to display the sword of strife and be a very effective member of the church militant without the visible employment of temporal weapons.