 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
158
THE ECLIPSE OF HECATE.
I.
Long I watched the doubtful struggle'Twixt the rising storm and night—
One with vans of fearful blackness,
One with smiles and shafts of light;
Till at last, o'ercome by Beauty,
Back the vampire form had sped,
Arrows sharp, of wondrous brightness,
Swift pursuing as he fled:
And, with sympathetic triumph
Cried I, to the baffled storm,
As pursued, and still retreating,
Sullen growled the lurid form:
“Where is now the hateful triumph,
Speaking late in wing and eye?
Where are now those savage squadrons
Swooping lately through the sky?
And, along the fields of heaven,
Where is now thy haughty sway—
Crouching now and baffled, driven,
Wrecked and shattered, far away?”
II.
And I laid me down exultingIn the conquest still in sight—
Love o'er Hate, and Peace o'er quarrel,
And, above the Black, the Bright!
Sailed the Queenly Hecate o'er me,
Squadrons white, in grand array,
Heralding her perfect conquest
To the embraces with the day;
159
Slept I in the moonlight pale,
Never dreaming once that legions,
In such glory clad, should quail.
And I dreamt of mortal beauty,
That me-seemed immortal too:
Such as youthful fancy summons
Out from blessing realms of blue.
And I felt the loving ardor
Of her bosom near mine own;
And my heart upsprung exulting,
Like a hero on his throne!
III.
Bright as soft, like streams of sunsetO'er a fond and placid sky,
Fell her tresses round my bosom,
Shone her blue and blessing eye.
IV.
Oh! the wondrous charm of Beauty,Soothing with a dear delight!
Oh! the loving calm of Beauty,
Making Rapture out of Night!
Oh! the true and deep religion
Nursed within a loving breast,
Like a gleam of holy sunshine,
Hiding in a happy nest!
V.
Dreaming thus on Earth, of Heaven,How deliciously the bliss
Of that summer night enwrapt me,
With embrace and balm and kiss!
160
Drank I in the immortal breath;
Straight forgot that skies had tempests,
And that life was full of death!
VI.
But I woke with chill upon me,And the sky was bright no more;
And the ocean, hoarsely howling,
Hurled its billows on the shore.
All the sky was in commotion,
All the hosts of storm were there:
Troops and squadrons, fresh from ocean,
Swept the starry fields of air.
Great, in central state of terror,
Hung the vampire form on high,
Roaring wild, with angry clamor,
For possession of the sky.
And the whirlwind shrieks, and rouses
All his storms, and sets them free;
And the spout of ocean throws his
Great black banner o'er the sea!
VII.
Where the queenly Hecate's crescent?Where the shafts of light she sped,
When, before her gay white legions,
Late, the sullen vampire fled?
Where the islet forms of beauty,
Soft reposing o'er the deep,
When I laid me down, of rapture
Dreaming, in delicious sleep!
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VIII.
They are gone, the forms of brightness,With the dreaming joys they brought,
The forgetfulness, in pleasure,
Of the sterner things of Thought!
And the soul deplores in sadness
The wild triumphs of the Form,
Black with billow, red with lightning,
Sire of wild misrule and storm!
IX.
But, even while the Terror triumphs—As a bird within its nest,
Though the tree with storm is rocking,
Sings the blessing in my breast;
And the Beautiful, still hopeful,
Though with hooded brow she lies,
Patient waits the hour of freedom,
When the storm shall leave her skies!
And I knew that all the blackness
Should, in passing from her face,
Leave her far more bright than ever,
And with lovelier spell and grace.
X.
And my thought was like an arrow—Like the shaft by Hecate sent,
Piercing all the sullen storm clouds,
Opening up the firmament!
And, beyond, I felt the beauty
Calm reposing in the sky;
Saw the pure bright eye triumphant,
Like a star for storm too high!
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Made the Beautiful still mine;
Priestesses, white-handed, tending
On the soul's superior shrine—
Making lovely still the Terror,
Till the very brows of Gloom,
And her trailing pall of blackness,
Glow in beauty, grow to bloom.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |