The Flood of Thessaly The Girl of Provence, and Other Poems. By Barry Cornwall [i.e. Bryan Waller Procter] |
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 | The Flood of Thessaly |  |
In a moment straight before his eyes there thronged
Visions,—vast moving sights, Ocean and Land,
Palaces, towns, and temples,—sea-girt isles
Floating, and navies of a thousand ships,
Armies of steeled men, and shapes that wore
Their panther spoils, (nought else)—fierce savages,
Rivers and desart wastes, and grassy slopes
Crowned with the branching palm, and cedars such
As stood on Lebanon and kissed the wind
At morning,—and strange scenes and shapes beside.
—For a time he looked bewildered; but at last
His eye accustomed saw each shape distinct.—
First, on rich moving thrones, sceptred and crown'd
With oriental gold, dazzling as day,
And studded o'er with gems, passed slowly along
The kings of Thebes, and ocean-girded Tyre,
And Memphis old, and shrunken Babylon,—
Huge warrior men, upon whose lips, tho' sad,
Hung scorn, and pride in every wrinkled front.
Then came a bearded king more mild than they,
Father of many sons, all fair and brave,
And daughters, one a prophetess: This was
The Trojan Priam, at whose city gates
The Grecians watched for ten long bloody years,
And entered at the last old Ilium.
Near him sate one with laurels crown'd, but blind,
Who, pausing for a time, spoke forth at last
With a voice more solemn than the trumpet's tone
Calling armed men to battle: Terrible strife
In which the Gods once mingled filled his song,
Until descending unto gentler tones,
A gentler chord he pressed, and Love was made
His theme,—how on the Asian sands a dame
Loitered with him she loved and left her lord,
(Lacedemonian Helen)—how she stole
From Sparta then the sightless poet sung,
With the boy Paris, Priam's shepherd son,
And how Achilles angered, and the prince
Of barren Ithaca was led astray,
For ten long wretched years o'er land and wave
Wandering in grief and could not reach his home.
Visions,—vast moving sights, Ocean and Land,
Palaces, towns, and temples,—sea-girt isles
65
Armies of steeled men, and shapes that wore
Their panther spoils, (nought else)—fierce savages,
Rivers and desart wastes, and grassy slopes
Crowned with the branching palm, and cedars such
As stood on Lebanon and kissed the wind
At morning,—and strange scenes and shapes beside.
—For a time he looked bewildered; but at last
His eye accustomed saw each shape distinct.—
First, on rich moving thrones, sceptred and crown'd
With oriental gold, dazzling as day,
And studded o'er with gems, passed slowly along
The kings of Thebes, and ocean-girded Tyre,
And Memphis old, and shrunken Babylon,—
Huge warrior men, upon whose lips, tho' sad,
Hung scorn, and pride in every wrinkled front.
Then came a bearded king more mild than they,
Father of many sons, all fair and brave,
And daughters, one a prophetess: This was
The Trojan Priam, at whose city gates
The Grecians watched for ten long bloody years,
And entered at the last old Ilium.
66
Who, pausing for a time, spoke forth at last
With a voice more solemn than the trumpet's tone
Calling armed men to battle: Terrible strife
In which the Gods once mingled filled his song,
Until descending unto gentler tones,
A gentler chord he pressed, and Love was made
His theme,—how on the Asian sands a dame
Loitered with him she loved and left her lord,
(Lacedemonian Helen)—how she stole
From Sparta then the sightless poet sung,
With the boy Paris, Priam's shepherd son,
And how Achilles angered, and the prince
Of barren Ithaca was led astray,
For ten long wretched years o'er land and wave
Wandering in grief and could not reach his home.
| The Flood of Thessaly | |