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THAMUS |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
462
THAMUS
And it is said that Thamus sailed
Off islands of Ægean seas
No seaman yet had ever hailed;
No vessel touched, no ship of Greece,
Phœnician or the Chersonese.
Off islands of Ægean seas
No seaman yet had ever hailed;
No vessel touched, no ship of Greece,
Phœnician or the Chersonese.
And, lying all becalmed, 'tis told
How wonderful with peace that night
Rolled out of dusk and dreamy gold
One star, whose splendor seemed to light
The world with majesty and might.
How wonderful with peace that night
Rolled out of dusk and dreamy gold
One star, whose splendor seemed to light
The world with majesty and might.
Like shadows on a shadow-ship
The dark-haired, dark-eyed sailors lay;
When from the island seemed to slip,
Borne overhead and far away,
A voice that “Thamus!” seemed to say.
The dark-haired, dark-eyed sailors lay;
When from the island seemed to slip,
Borne overhead and far away,
A voice that “Thamus!” seemed to say.
Then silence: and the languid Greek,
The lounging Cretan, watched the sky,
Or, in carousal, ceased to speak
And sing. Again came rolling by
The voice, and “Thamus!” in its cry.
The lounging Cretan, watched the sky,
463
And sing. Again came rolling by
The voice, and “Thamus!” in its cry.
All were awake: tall, swarthy men
With bated breath stood listening,
Or gravely scanned the shore. And then,
Although they saw no living thing,
Again they heard the summons ring.
With bated breath stood listening,
Or gravely scanned the shore. And then,
Although they saw no living thing,
Again they heard the summons ring.
And “Thamus!” sounded shore and sea:
And at the third call leaned the Greek,
Full facing toward the isle; and he
Cried to the voice and bade it speak
The mission, message it would seek.
And at the third call leaned the Greek,
Full facing toward the isle; and he
Cried to the voice and bade it speak
The mission, message it would seek.
“Thou shalt sail on to such a place
Among the pagan seas,” it said;
“To such a land: and thou shalt face
Against it when the east is red,
And cry aloud, ‘Great Pan is dead!’” . . .
Among the pagan seas,” it said;
“To such a land: and thou shalt face
Against it when the east is red,
And cry aloud, ‘Great Pan is dead!’” . . .
As fearful of unholy word
Their souls stood stricken with strange fear.
Then Thamus said, “Yea, I have heard.
Yet 'tis my purpose still to steer
Straight on. That land shall never hear!”
Their souls stood stricken with strange fear.
Then Thamus said, “Yea, I have heard.
Yet 'tis my purpose still to steer
Straight on. That land shall never hear!”
464
And so they sailed that night; and came
Into an unknown sea; and there
The east burnt like a sword of flame
A Cyclops forges: straight the air
Fell sick with calm: the morn was fair.
Into an unknown sea; and there
The east burnt like a sword of flame
A Cyclops forges: straight the air
Fell sick with calm: the morn was fair.
Then double dread was theirs; and dread
Was Thamus'; and he raised his hand
And shouted, “Pan! great Pan is dead!”
And all the twilight-haunted land
Cried, “Pan is dead!” from peak to strand.
Was Thamus'; and he raised his hand
And shouted, “Pan! great Pan is dead!”
And all the twilight-haunted land
Cried, “Pan is dead!” from peak to strand.
They saw pale shrines and temples nod
Among the shaken trees: and pale
Wild forms of goddess and of god
Crawl forth with crumbling limbs and trail
Woe, till the dim land grew one wail.—
Among the shaken trees: and pale
Wild forms of goddess and of god
Crawl forth with crumbling limbs and trail
Woe, till the dim land grew one wail.—
What tripods groaned?—Serapis first
Within Canopus' temples heard
The word, and his brute granite burst
Its monster bulk. Dodona stirred
And bowed its oaks before the word
Within Canopus' temples heard
The word, and his brute granite burst
Its monster bulk. Dodona stirred
And bowed its oaks before the word
That left them thunder-riv'n; then passed
To Aphaca where, marble-hewn,
Venus possessed a well that glassed
Her form, white-burning, like the moon—
And lo! her loveliness lay strewn.
To Aphaca where, marble-hewn,
465
Her form, white-burning, like the moon—
And lo! her loveliness lay strewn.
Then o'er Cilicia swept, and bent
Sarpedon's oracle with scorn,
Apollo.—Yea! the gods lay rent
And Delphos dumb. And, lo! the morn
Flamed o'er the world where Christ lay born.
Sarpedon's oracle with scorn,
Apollo.—Yea! the gods lay rent
And Delphos dumb. And, lo! the morn
Flamed o'er the world where Christ lay born.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |