 | Love-Lore (1895) |  |
113
TARQUIN THE PROUD
Rejoicing in imperiousness of will,
Sits Tarquin. One allow'd
Enters his presence; standeth proudly still
Before “The Proud.”
Sits Tarquin. One allow'd
Enters his presence; standeth proudly still
Before “The Proud.”
The Sybil standeth there before the King,
Waiting his question. He—
What wantest thou, and wherefore dost thou bring
Those books to me?
Waiting his question. He—
What wantest thou, and wherefore dost thou bring
Those books to me?
To sell them to thee, Tarquin! They are dear.
If thou wilt have them, say!
Quick as his “No!” the form doth disappear,
Too proud to stay.
If thou wilt have them, say!
Quick as his “No!” the form doth disappear,
Too proud to stay.
But after a brief while she comes again,
With—I have burn'd a third.
At the same price the other six remain:
Again—thy word?
With—I have burn'd a third.
At the same price the other six remain:
Again—thy word?
No! says the haughty King: too large the sum.
And laugheth at the thought.
Again she leaveth, even as she did come,—
Unstay'd, unsought.
And laugheth at the thought.
Again she leaveth, even as she did come,—
Unstay'd, unsought.
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And yet a third time comes she to the King.
Tarquin the Proud is wroth.
What are these books thou wilt persist to bring
To me, so loath?
Tarquin the Proud is wroth.
What are these books thou wilt persist to bring
To me, so loath?
Angry, but moved by unaccustom'd fear,
Tarquin bows to her will,
And takes the remnant, although trebly dear,—
Haughtily still.
Tarquin bows to her will,
And takes the remnant, although trebly dear,—
Haughtily still.
Now tell me, Augurs! what delay hath lost!
O King! thou shouldst have bought.
Even these are worth far more than all their cost,
So treasure-fraught.
O King! thou shouldst have bought.
Even these are worth far more than all their cost,
So treasure-fraught.
These books contain of good and ill to Rome
The certain prophecy,
And all the weal or woe to thine own house
That draweth nigh.
The certain prophecy,
And all the weal or woe to thine own house
That draweth nigh.
Lay them in Jove's own temple, under guard!
Too late, too late to find
The lost and the refused, the high reward
Thou wouldst not mind.
Too late, too late to find
The lost and the refused, the high reward
Thou wouldst not mind.
Tarquin the Proud hath perish'd in his pride,
Who grudged the price to learn.
He sought the Sybil. Never till he died
Did she return.
Who grudged the price to learn.
He sought the Sybil. Never till he died
Did she return.
| Love-Lore (1895) | |