 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
“Thus, then,” the Maiden cried, by hope inspired
To shun impiety's most loathed caress,
“Thus let the mystic oracle declare,
‘Ye shall pass o'er the Tyrrhene sea in ships
Laden with virgins, gems and gods, and spoils
Of a dismembered empire, and a cloud
Of light shall radiate your ocean path!”
Breathes not the soul of mystery in this?”
To shun impiety's most loathed caress,
“Thus let the mystic oracle declare,
‘Ye shall pass o'er the Tyrrhene sea in ships
Laden with virgins, gems and gods, and spoils
Of a dismembered empire, and a cloud
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Breathes not the soul of mystery in this?”
The whole art of uttering oracles consisted in choosing terms capable of any construction. The desires of the consulter determined the meaning; and neither Delphi nor Dodona could commit its credit by the failure of a prophesy which, it might allege, was never properly understood. No one can have forgotten the celebrated response (which illustrates the sophistries and follies of the ancients) “Aio te, Æacide, Romanos vincere posse.”
The maiden now consents to give an Isean response, prefiguring the ruin impending from which all, who escape, must fly by sea, that the absence of the priest may afford her an opportunity to fly from the lascivious temple.
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |