 | [Phaeton, in] Stories of classic myths retold from St. Nicholas |  |
134
PHAETON
BY C. P. CRANCH
Before Copernicus and others proved
The Sun stood still, and 't was the Earth that moved,
Phœbus Apollo, as all freshmen know,
Was the Sun's coachman. This was long ago.
Across the sky from east to west all day
He drove, but took no passengers or pay.
A splendid team it was; and there was none
But he could drive this chariot of the Sun.
The world was safe so long as in his hand
He held the reins and kept supreme command.
The Sun stood still, and 't was the Earth that moved,
Phœbus Apollo, as all freshmen know,
Was the Sun's coachman. This was long ago.
Across the sky from east to west all day
He drove, but took no passengers or pay.
A splendid team it was; and there was none
But he could drive this chariot of the Sun.
The world was safe so long as in his hand
He held the reins and kept supreme command.
But Phœbus had a wild, conceited son,
A rash and lively youth, named Phaeton,
Who used to watch his father mount his car
And whirl through space like a great shooting-star;
And thought what fun 't would be, could he contrive
Some day to mount that car and take a drive!
A rash and lively youth, named Phaeton,
Who used to watch his father mount his car
And whirl through space like a great shooting-star;
And thought what fun 't would be, could he contrive
Some day to mount that car and take a drive!
The mischief of it was, Apollo loved
The boy so well that once his heart was moved
To promise him whatever he might ask.
He never thought how hard would be the task
To keep his word. So, one day, Phaeton
Said to his sire, “I'd like to drive your Sun—
That is, myself—dear sir, excuse the pun,—
Twelve hours through space. You know you promised once
Whatever I might ask.”
The boy so well that once his heart was moved
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He never thought how hard would be the task
To keep his word. So, one day, Phaeton
Said to his sire, “I'd like to drive your Sun—
That is, myself—dear sir, excuse the pun,—
Twelve hours through space. You know you promised once
Whatever I might ask.”
“I was a dunce,”
Apollo said. “My foolish love for you,
I fear, my son, that I shall sadly rue.
Lend you my chariot? No;—I really can't.
Is n't there something else that I can grant
Instead of this? A serious thing 't would be
To have my horses run away, you see.
You might bring ruin on the earth and sky,
And I 'm responsible, you know,—yes, I.
Try something else. Here 's a great wheel of light,
The moon—a bicycle—almost as bright
As my sun-chariot. Get astride of this,
And move your legs, and you 'll enjoy a bliss
Of motion through the clouds almost as great
As if you rode like me in royal state.
No, my dear boy,—why, can't you understand?
I dare not trust you with my four-in-hand.”
Apollo said. “My foolish love for you,
I fear, my son, that I shall sadly rue.
Lend you my chariot? No;—I really can't.
Is n't there something else that I can grant
Instead of this? A serious thing 't would be
To have my horses run away, you see.
You might bring ruin on the earth and sky,
And I 'm responsible, you know,—yes, I.
Try something else. Here 's a great wheel of light,
The moon—a bicycle—almost as bright
As my sun-chariot. Get astride of this,
And move your legs, and you 'll enjoy a bliss
Of motion through the clouds almost as great
As if you rode like me in royal state.
No, my dear boy,—why, can't you understand?
I dare not trust you with my four-in-hand.”
“I have no taste for bicycles,” the boy
Replied. “That thing is but an idle toy.
My genius is for horses, and I long
To try my hand at yours. They 're not so strong
But I can hold them. I know all their tricks.
Father, you swore it by the River Styx,—
You know you did,—and you are in a fix.
You can't retract. Besides, you need n't fear.
You 'll see I am a skilful charioteer.
I 've taken lessons of a man of worth,—
A first-rate driver down there on the earth.”
“I see,” said Phœbus, “that I can't go back
Upon my promise. Well, then, clear the track!”
Replied. “That thing is but an idle toy.
My genius is for horses, and I long
To try my hand at yours. They 're not so strong
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Father, you swore it by the River Styx,—
You know you did,—and you are in a fix.
You can't retract. Besides, you need n't fear.
You 'll see I am a skilful charioteer.
I 've taken lessons of a man of worth,—
A first-rate driver down there on the earth.”
“I see,” said Phœbus, “that I can't go back
Upon my promise. Well, then, clear the track!”
So Phaeton leaped up and grasped the reins.
His anxious father took a deal of pains
To teach him how to hold them,—how to keep
The broad highway,—how dangerous and steep
It was; and how to avoid the moon and stars,
Keep clear of Jupiter, the Earth, and Mars—
And dodge the asteroids and comets red;
Follow the zodiac turnpike, straight ahead,
Though clouds and thunder-storms should round him spread.
His anxious father took a deal of pains
To teach him how to hold them,—how to keep
The broad highway,—how dangerous and steep
It was; and how to avoid the moon and stars,
Keep clear of Jupiter, the Earth, and Mars—
And dodge the asteroids and comets red;
Follow the zodiac turnpike, straight ahead,
Though clouds and thunder-storms should round him spread.
Alas! 't was all in vain. A little while—
Two hours, perhaps—his fortune seemed to smile;
When a huge meteor, whizzing through the sky,
Alarmed the horses, who began to shy,
And shake their fiery manes; then plunged and reared,
And whirled him zigzag downward, till they neared
The Earth. A conflagration spread below,
And everything seemed burning up like tow
In the Sun's flames. Then Jupiter looked down
And saw the Earth like toast, all turning brown,
And threw a blazing thunder-bolt (but wait—
Here in parenthesis I 'd like to state
This may have been a telegram; for then
Lightning despatches were not known to men,
But only used by heathen gods) which struck
The youth; and by the greatest piece of luck
Prevented further loss.
Two hours, perhaps—his fortune seemed to smile;
When a huge meteor, whizzing through the sky,
Alarmed the horses, who began to shy,
And shake their fiery manes; then plunged and reared,
And whirled him zigzag downward, till they neared
The Earth. A conflagration spread below,
And everything seemed burning up like tow
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And saw the Earth like toast, all turning brown,
And threw a blazing thunder-bolt (but wait—
Here in parenthesis I 'd like to state
This may have been a telegram; for then
Lightning despatches were not known to men,
But only used by heathen gods) which struck
The youth; and by the greatest piece of luck
Prevented further loss.
This tale they told
In olden times. If I might be so bold
As to suggest an explanation here
Of a phenomenon by no means clear,
I 'd say those spots upon the Sun's red face
Were bruises that he got in that mad race.
In olden times. If I might be so bold
As to suggest an explanation here
Of a phenomenon by no means clear,
I 'd say those spots upon the Sun's red face
Were bruises that he got in that mad race.
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