University of Virginia Library

“Athena spake no more; and then I seemed
To traverse airily the boundless waves,
Wind-borne thro' space and penetrating light,
That glorified my being as the flowers
Are glorified by morn. The Goddess' words
Still singing by me, underneath my feet,
In shoals the wondrous creatures of the deep,
Of richest hues and silvery brightness sped,
By huge ones followed swiftly and devoured.
And passing over cities I beheld
Great nations spread and cover smaller states,
And flourish into temples, towers, and fleets;
Then coil themselves together, leopard-like,
To watch with evil eyes should any chance
Relax some other's guard, or weight his lids
In sleep, and give the fatal vantage sought.
Afar then I descried an eagle swoop
And strike a great swan soaring dead to earth;
But being near man's home, the eagle fled
Until the sun grew crimson, then returned
To gorge his prey; marked by a fowler, who
Hard by in ambush with a ready bow,
Pierced his fierce heart with death. The fowler, proud,
Boasting of twofold spoil and subtle skill,
Hoisted the prize for praises from his dame;
But she, cross-grained, upbraided him for loss
And waste on eagles, worthless on the board,
When all his children cried with hungry maws!
To her sharp tongue he daring no reply,
And needing solace, roundly beat his babes.

“Such the strange pastime of that mighty world
I have for ever lost. Where beauty dies
Fresh in her dawn of trustful innocence,
Mammocked by ruthless force and cast away;
Where wise men bow unhonoured heads, while fools,
In loud-pitched shouts, assert that Wisdom's ways
Are better now forgot for pathways new,
Obvious and sweeping. Where lithe Falsehood's self,
Wearing a scanty garment filched from Truth,
Flaunts her bedizened foulness to the crowd,
Pronouncing Truth a worn-out blunderer,
Unneeded in this growing world of ours,
Where things so mixed and complex must be touched
By lighter fingers, or their bloom will fly!
And gaping multitudes agrin with joy
Strain their deep throats to inharmonious howl;
As wolves at midnight when they scent the fold,
And rage against her worthless purity,
Her worn-out useless rags. Tho' beaming clear
Her purity, clad in eternal light!

“All this is darkness murkier than the gloom
Whereon these blank orbs dwell; but when I heard
The door, by which ye entered, opening, came
With thy dear voice the welcome joy of love,
And now, within mine arms, to hear and and feel
My home, the beating of thy tuneful heart,
I have no other wish, but rest content;
Contented with my fate, and most with thee.”