 | Poems |  |
PYGMALION.
How the white vision shaped it in my thought,How shall I tell! how in my nightly dreams
I knew its presence, though I saw it not,
In solitude—in cities—'mid the hush
Of forests—'mid the throng and crush of men,
With untold longings, thirsting more and more,
Yea, hungering for its beauty! how with time
I wrestled for that prize, yet won it not!
How even to agony my soul was wrought,
To tears and frenzy, yet I won it not!
I felt its glory flooding through my soul—
The chaos that should bring this wonder forth
I brooded o'er—how long! how long in vain,
Watching and waiting ere its beauty came!
Faint as a rainbow first it wander'd forth;
Misty and vanishing it met my gaze,
Nor came, nor went, the creature of my will.
Yet seems it not with gradual growth it grew,
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O thrice-blest hour that bore her! In a breath
The veil was rent, and lo! before my gaze,
My thought's rapt gaze, that worshipped as it saw,
She stood; and was it given to me to fix
Its haunting shape before my actual sense,
Giving mine eyes its beauty? Then I took
Marble, and wrought, and wrought, how long in vain!
Leaving the marble, marble, and not life.
O blessed Gods! yet knowing not despair;
O blessed Gods! still grasping flying hope;
And one by one, I wrought her beauties forth,
Clearing white brow, and breast, and lustrous smile,
From gross embraces of the entombing stone,
Till at the last, in still perfection, stood
The white sweet wonder, silent in the sun;
Silent, and yet how tuneful with sweet speech,
Utterance divine, that from the listening soul
Drew echoes, though the dull ear heard it not!
And ever, as the summer breeze lays hand
Upon the harp, and shakes its music forth
In passionate sobs, and swells, and dying falls,
So through me did that mystic spirit pass,
Till all my being vibrated with love,
And all my heart's hopes flutter'd round that stone,
And my days wail'd unto it, white and cold,
Silent and wordless, for a mortal love,
Ever, with passionate moanings, for sweet love,
Till life grew to one thought—one throbbing hope,
And the great Gods heard but this prayer in heaven:
“O let her live, and my blest knees shall grow
“Unto your altar-steps in thankfulness!
“But let her live, and all my life shall be
“One sacrifice—thick incense steaming up
“Unto your footstools! not with empty breath,
“O awful Gods! ye know, I pour this prayer!
“I cry, even as the blinded cry for light,
“Even as wild mothers, in a slaughter'd town,
“Shriek o'er their babes for mercy! Spurn me not,
“Dread powers, within whose lips are fearful joys,
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“Ye crown'd eternities, whose will is fate,
“Ye, sitting in your high Olympian halls,
“Know only bliss for ever—not as we,
“Shades of an hour, whose days are dark with death,
“That perish with the lapse of fleeting years.
“What is our life to your eternity?
“What were it, though we sat on golden thrones,
“And lived the lives of heaven? a passing dream.
“Have mercy, Gods! I sought not for this life,
“This mortal capability of pain:
“Ye gave this air-drawn being to my frame,
“This hunger of the soul ye gave to me,
“Unasking. Gods! from you, I took this thirst
“Of beauty, which, unquenched, what prayers were mine,
“But for forgetfulness—for peace and rest,
“Deep ease, sweet rest, within a peaceful urn!
“What were it, Gods, though ye should bid her live!
“O let her live! What were it unto you
“To lift this cup of joy unto my lips?
“O sweeter draught than ever Hebe bore!
“That I might drink and be even as a God,
“Knowing nor care nor sorrow of the earth,
“But only bliss—bliss for how brief a space,
“Ere Hades hold me, shade amid pale shades,
“Yet, spite of Lethe, wailing still for her,
“Ever for her—for her—alone for her!
“Why are ye deaf? my prayer is in your ears
“In the still night—at rise and set of sun,
“And through the glaring watches of the day,
“Crying this cry for ever—let her live!
“Olympian! throne above all thrones of Gods!
“Hear me! for thou hast known this fire of love,
“This burning passion to be clasp'd of one:
“Panting to Danaë in a rain of gold;
“Protean, in Amphitryon's bearded form,
“Quaffing deep raptures in Alcmena's arms.
“Did not Eurotas see thee as a swan
“Burn unto Leda? Thou whom Semele
“Saw a consuming splendour, hear thou—hear!
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“Of supermortal passion, make this shape
“Perfect with motion and all gifts of sense,
“Feeling, and thought, that I may know her love!
“O thou, foam-born! thou, whom the heavens have heard
“Wailing the lost Adonis! unto thee
“I turn, beseeching! Goddess! unto thee
“This beating fever of the burning blood
“Is worship, and pale passion's pains and tears
“Thou view'st exultant; therefore, Goddess, hear!
“And I will worship thee—thee, only thee,
“Grasping thy snowy altars evermore.
“Lo! a deep vow I vow thee; hear my vow!
“Give this white silence breathing to my arms,
“And ever shall a chorus chant thy praise,
“With solemn songs, within thy temple's bounds,
“Heard of the heavens, and earth, and rounding sea;
“And, in the sunshine, Aphrodite, here,
“Shall Cyprus bow before thy robeless self,
“Perfect in marble, by my chisel wrought,
“Fair as the blue waves saw thee, from the sea
“Rising, the glory and desire of earth.”
So rose my prayer ere the cold morning glared
Athwart the east, and when the last faint flush
Of latest evening died from off the west,
In the hot noon and through the hush of night;
And lo! I cried not unto deafen'd ears
Regardless. O my joy, sing forth their praise,
And let thy thanks go up, even as my cry
Pulsed from the inmost beatings of the heart!
She lived! she lived! O life above all life
Heaven-sent! I gazed on life; along her cheek
Life flushed; life beat within her bosom's swell,
In quivering eyelid and in softening lip,
In rosy limb and every violet vein.
Gods! what a soul dreamed from her dewy eyes!
What life within the tendrils of her hair
Awed me with joy—with joy, even as I gazed,
To stillness—but with joy—excess of joy!
What could I do but gaze—but gaze and gaze,
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Breathing to heaven, if it were but a dream,
So might I dream for ever! But that fear
Each moment mingled more its night with light,
Hope-drawn; joy whispered that I lived awake;
Awake! O never slumber had such dream!
The sculptured creature of my hands was gone;
A new Pandora there before me stood.
Gods! what a beauty sat upon her brow!
Not the white glory on great Herè's own,
Not laughing Hebe's whiter! O that smile—
The very smile that burns love into Gods
From Aphrodite's face! O glistening smile!
O burst of sunlight on a darken'd world,
That smites its sobs to gladness! Lips as red
As Hyacinthus' blood! Ye heavens! her words—
Honey more sweet than ever Hybla hived,
You heard the Sirens seize Odysseus' ear
With Circe's breathings! Such a rounded arm
Won Zeus to Maia! Tresses—nets of gold,
Fit as lorn Ariadne's streaming hair
To catch flush'd Dionusus! One such look—
For one I had laughed to outdare Alcides' self,
And beard swart Hades! Blessed gods! she lived,
And I had hearing but to drink her words;
Mine eyes had vision but to feed on her.
Hope—memory—thought—existence—from my brain
She smote the world—earth—heaven—and all but her,
And joy and grief—life—death—and all but her!
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