 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
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We are speeding under seas; shows now our glass,
Tumultuous wind-tosst watery wilderness,
Beneath then Cretes long-ranged white cliffs, we pass:
Isle hundred-citied, ín Old World renowned;
Where Minos ruled, estéemed son of a God;
For his great wisdom both and worthy deeds.
Who his People, statutes taught and ordinances.
Wherefore to him etérnally assigned the Gods,
A righteous judgment-seat in Underworld.
Tumultuous wind-tosst watery wilderness,
Beneath then Cretes long-ranged white cliffs, we pass:
Isle hundred-citied, ín Old World renowned;
Where Minos ruled, estéemed son of a God;
For his great wisdom both and worthy deeds.
Who his People, statutes taught and ordinances.
Wherefore to him etérnally assigned the Gods,
A righteous judgment-seat in Underworld.
We saw him not, but rávished further forth,
Continued; tíll, with joy of heart, we raught,
Europas shore, hem of Home Continent.
Is that neath Suniums foreland; whóse proud cliff,
Crowns pillared témple óf the blue-eyed Goddess;
Which guards the Attic coast.
Continued; tíll, with joy of heart, we raught,
Europas shore, hem of Home Continent.
Is that neath Suniums foreland; whóse proud cliff,
Crowns pillared témple óf the blue-eyed Goddess;
Which guards the Attic coast.
Eftsoon new hap!
Shone gladsome gleam athwart our Underworlds path.
Us seemed then mount, in our abysmal course!
As were towards some well-mouth of living Earth.
Come to ourselves, lifting up dazing looks:
We béheld stand famed statua of Phidias;
Athena, on age-renowned Acropolis-cliff!
Helm-clad, with spear advanced, proténding shield:
And the aegis, wherein bears that maiden Goddess,
Medusa embossed, shine on Her warlike breast.
Shone gladsome gleam athwart our Underworlds path.
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As were towards some well-mouth of living Earth.
Come to ourselves, lifting up dazing looks:
We béheld stand famed statua of Phidias;
Athena, on age-renowned Acropolis-cliff!
Helm-clad, with spear advanced, proténding shield:
And the aegis, wherein bears that maiden Goddess,
Medusa embossed, shine on Her warlike breast.
One cometh this way, from Cecrops city forth;
Through the ágora and busy traffic óf Greeks' street:
A man whom many observe, where he doth pass.
Who is there in Athens, knows not those quaint looks,
Of Sophroníscos son, who goeth barefoot;
Wise-wayward thus, his weed a blanket-cloth?
Through the ágora and busy traffic óf Greeks' street:
A man whom many observe, where he doth pass.
Who is there in Athens, knows not those quaint looks,
Of Sophroníscos son, who goeth barefoot;
Wise-wayward thus, his weed a blanket-cloth?
Dwells oft-time lofty heart, in lowly cot;
So Socrates doth: nor seld is, vile wight rotteth,
Entombed already, in mánsion of the great.
Poor of Worlds good, (he lightly esteemeth thereof;)
A dívine Spirit abideth, in Socrates breast.
Who come now tó late evening of his years,
By áge is not subdued: but aye he seeketh,
If so be hé, through Reasons reach, might 'scape
From érror; ánd attaín to tread the path,
From now henceforth, of Everlasting Truth.
So Socrates doth: nor seld is, vile wight rotteth,
Entombed already, in mánsion of the great.
Poor of Worlds good, (he lightly esteemeth thereof;)
A dívine Spirit abideth, in Socrates breast.
Who come now tó late evening of his years,
By áge is not subdued: but aye he seeketh,
If so be hé, through Reasons reach, might 'scape
From érror; ánd attaín to tread the path,
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Erewhile of masons' craft; in marble blocks,
Hewn in Pentélic cliffs, drawn tardily forth,
On creaking ox-wains, o'er that thymy plain;
Young Socrates, wíth his father, images wrought;
Of the álleged cómpany, of Gréeks' Olympic Gods.
Now, leaving hís old art, with chisel sharp
And mallet of grave speech; he fashioneth out
The form of Virtue, in young mens minds unripe.
Hewn in Pentélic cliffs, drawn tardily forth,
On creaking ox-wains, o'er that thymy plain;
Young Socrates, wíth his father, images wrought;
Of the álleged cómpany, of Gréeks' Olympic Gods.
Now, leaving hís old art, with chisel sharp
And mallet of grave speech; he fashioneth out
The form of Virtue, in young mens minds unripe.
Is Socrates nighing ín their Potters' Street:
Approach two young men fróm the contrary part,
Criton and Cebes friends, his hearers both.
They anón with Socrates meet, in powdrous place;
Where two ways meet. And anon went apart,
Those stand now, a little company, as their wont is;
In homely-wise discourse. Is that town street,
Their street of citizens' sumptuous sepulchres;
This other is Athens' sacred-way, whereby
To-day the Elévsis Pilgrimáge shall pass.
And presently are many on-lookers, gathering near.
Begin first mystæ alreády by to fare.
In bands those march: and fróm a fellowship,
A young man steps forth, óne of upright looks,
Stranger of Elis, hearer of the sage:
Phaedon by name. Though clad in purple weed;
As longeth untó this high-days pilgrimage;
Is he of those whom Socrates most esteems;
Constant in virtue, ánd of life unstained.
He joineth himself to them, which talk with Socrates.
Approach two young men fróm the contrary part,
Criton and Cebes friends, his hearers both.
They anón with Socrates meet, in powdrous place;
Where two ways meet. And anon went apart,
Those stand now, a little company, as their wont is;
In homely-wise discourse. Is that town street,
Their street of citizens' sumptuous sepulchres;
This other is Athens' sacred-way, whereby
To-day the Elévsis Pilgrimáge shall pass.
And presently are many on-lookers, gathering near.
Begin first mystæ alreády by to fare.
In bands those march: and fróm a fellowship,
A young man steps forth, óne of upright looks,
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Phaedon by name. Though clad in purple weed;
As longeth untó this high-days pilgrimage;
Is he of those whom Socrates most esteems;
Constant in virtue, ánd of life unstained.
He joineth himself to them, which talk with Socrates.
Hark! hów from vanward óf the sacred train;
Iacche! Iacche! Theseus citizens shout:
With whom march companies, fróm Greeks' several States.
To Elevsis-ward of all is set the face.
Phaedon.
Iacche! Iacche! Theseus citizens shout:
With whom march companies, fróm Greeks' several States.
To Elevsis-ward of all is set the face.
What cry is this from midst the pilgrimage?
Cebes.
Who foremost; pass now bourne-stone ón the bridge,
Which over-rides Kephissos droughty brook.
Phaedon.
I a retinue see, of priests and novices;
And maidens, bearing canisters ón their heads.
Cebes.
Offerings those bring, of Atticas summer fruits:
These other, ínstruments bear of sacrifices.
Criton.
All wend up purified, having yestre'en washed
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Come morrow; on Image óf that greatest Goddess,
And well and dolorous stone, their eyes shall gaze.
Cebes.
And mystery of thé Great Mothers burning torch,
Behold, that token of saving Light in death;
Kindled at rising star, amidst the signs;
(Which known to only few of Her chief priests:)
When suddenly óf the Arch-mystagogue shall proclaimed;
Be to áll her worshippers, fróm the Temple-porch:
Who is purified, whóso is undefiled, approach;
To enter ín the Sanctuarys inner court.
Criton.
Arcana they behold there, but may not
In ány wise, sáve to the Initiate,
Commémoráte: wherein high covenant is
Established, for each soul, with Hels swart Goddess:
Ensuring aid and favour ín dark tomb.
Cebes.
Unto whom the hierophants únsealed lips pronounce,
That occult holy Name: Which countersign given,
Of dísembodied soul, shall mitigate
The brow severe, of swárt Infernal Power:
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Which though it dieth, sháll revive again.
Phaedon.
What néw thing doth this mány-tongued multitude shout?
Criton.
They who go by Athenas olive-trunk, ít salute:
Tree that once sprang full-grown up, fróm the root;
What time, contending with Poseidon, God;
Her gift to men, Pallas, yond high rock! smote.
Cebes.
That the ancients hold, was on the Acropolis cliff:
Nor other thán some venerable slip;
Is this, (remained of that same parent stock;)
Which stands now, all cavernous old, by the way side:
Her rind behanged with glittering offerings;
Likewise her great-grown scions, her round about.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |