 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
ZEUS
Who hath revealed his name,
Father of clouds, eternal, king of death,
Who, ere the mountains came,
Or gentle winds drew breath,
Sat in the morning light and had no care,
Great and austerely fair,
For ages and for ages, till at last
Creation ripened fast,
And at his feet the infant world began.
Under his throne the dew and spice of morn
And little wells arose,
The glory of the leaves, and newly born
The wonder of the rose.
Murmur and supplication, laugh and prayer,
Came up like vapour to his footstool there:
And the faint pulse of distant throbbing woe
Seemed as an echo very far below,
A moan the wind beats back, a sound that cannot grow.
Father of clouds, eternal, king of death,
Who, ere the mountains came,
Or gentle winds drew breath,
Sat in the morning light and had no care,
Great and austerely fair,
For ages and for ages, till at last
Creation ripened fast,
And at his feet the infant world began.
Under his throne the dew and spice of morn
And little wells arose,
The glory of the leaves, and newly born
The wonder of the rose.
Murmur and supplication, laugh and prayer,
Came up like vapour to his footstool there:
And the faint pulse of distant throbbing woe
Seemed as an echo very far below,
A moan the wind beats back, a sound that cannot grow.
He will not comfort any in their pain,
To whom the treasures of the isles belong;
He will not hear tho' hecatombs are slain,
Deaf to the droning augur's chanted song.
Put by thy hymn and weep thy weeping, he is strong.
He is so strong, desire of him no aid.
Melt out the rocks with weeping at thy harm,
Thou shalt not make him as a man afraid,
Or overcome the shadow of his calm.
His brother gods that feast up there with him
Are bowed before him ere they touch the cup.
His presence makes their lesser glories dim,
And underneath his throne earth's wail comes up.
And now men praise him that he is so great,
And now they curse him that he lets them die,
And now some blessing feign, dissembling hate.
But one and all he lets their wail go by.
And now he slumbers on the tinted cloud,
While sick on earth the feeble nations fear
With eyes that fail and forehead earthward bowed,
“Zeus, if thy name be Zeus, waken and hear.”
To whom the treasures of the isles belong;
He will not hear tho' hecatombs are slain,
Deaf to the droning augur's chanted song.
Put by thy hymn and weep thy weeping, he is strong.
He is so strong, desire of him no aid.
Melt out the rocks with weeping at thy harm,
Thou shalt not make him as a man afraid,
Or overcome the shadow of his calm.
His brother gods that feast up there with him
Are bowed before him ere they touch the cup.
His presence makes their lesser glories dim,
And underneath his throne earth's wail comes up.
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And now they curse him that he lets them die,
And now some blessing feign, dissembling hate.
But one and all he lets their wail go by.
And now he slumbers on the tinted cloud,
While sick on earth the feeble nations fear
With eyes that fail and forehead earthward bowed,
“Zeus, if thy name be Zeus, waken and hear.”
Descend and break the mountains, if thou hearest,
Awake, arise, and smite the secret seas.
Put on that strength of panoply thou wearest,
When thou dost rise to prosper thy decrees.
Say to the deep “Refrain thy ocean roaring;”
Command the darkened places of the wind.
Bid thou the cloud dissolve her stately soaring;
Call to the tempest, “Flee thou like a hind:”
Bind up in vapour thy strong golden light.
Make pale the mild uprisings of the stars.
Scatter in weeping the broad earth's delight;
Assume thy vengeance, thou of many wars.
O tried and terrible, resume thy sword,
Mighty in visitation, prove thy spear,
Lay to thine hand to justify thy word,
Zeus, if thy name be Zeus, waken and hear.
Awake, arise, and smite the secret seas.
Put on that strength of panoply thou wearest,
When thou dost rise to prosper thy decrees.
Say to the deep “Refrain thy ocean roaring;”
Command the darkened places of the wind.
Bid thou the cloud dissolve her stately soaring;
Call to the tempest, “Flee thou like a hind:”
Bind up in vapour thy strong golden light.
Make pale the mild uprisings of the stars.
Scatter in weeping the broad earth's delight;
Assume thy vengeance, thou of many wars.
O tried and terrible, resume thy sword,
Mighty in visitation, prove thy spear,
Lay to thine hand to justify thy word,
Zeus, if thy name be Zeus, waken and hear.
Ah, lord, ah, strong and sudden god, whose feet
Rest on the throb of all created pain,
Thou feelest thy dominion is so sweet,
Thou wilt not loose one rivet of our chain:
Thou wilt not say, “Arise, and taste again
Love and the genial hour
Where no cloud came:
Clothe back upon thy darling's cheek its flower,
And fear no blame.
Was she not wholly sweet and bound to thee
With innocent joy?
But this I did destroy
By the great might and scathe of my decree.
Worm, what is this to me,
If time flowed sweetly once and now is ended?
Before thou knewest I was great,
Thy lips my ways commended;
When thou, secure of Fate,
And dreaming all things good,
By reed-embroidered rill,
And Dryad-haunted wood,
Didst guide thy random feet,
And found the whole world sweet.
The Naiad in the spray
Beckoned thee, tender-eyed,
And in old lovers' way
The fond earth maiden sighed.
Life in the hands of Time
Disclosed a perfect flower,
And in thy golden prime
Some mild old dim-eyed god smiled on thee for an hour.”
Rest on the throb of all created pain,
Thou feelest thy dominion is so sweet,
Thou wilt not loose one rivet of our chain:
Thou wilt not say, “Arise, and taste again
Love and the genial hour
Where no cloud came:
Clothe back upon thy darling's cheek its flower,
And fear no blame.
Was she not wholly sweet and bound to thee
With innocent joy?
But this I did destroy
By the great might and scathe of my decree.
Worm, what is this to me,
If time flowed sweetly once and now is ended?
Before thou knewest I was great,
Thy lips my ways commended;
When thou, secure of Fate,
And dreaming all things good,
By reed-embroidered rill,
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Didst guide thy random feet,
And found the whole world sweet.
The Naiad in the spray
Beckoned thee, tender-eyed,
And in old lovers' way
The fond earth maiden sighed.
Life in the hands of Time
Disclosed a perfect flower,
And in thy golden prime
Some mild old dim-eyed god smiled on thee for an hour.”
Thou art not mild, mysterious! and thine eyes
Reach as the lightning reaches, and thy hands
Smite down the old perfections of the earth,
That came with blind old Saturn's dead commands,
And totter with his fall. The new god stands
Supreme, altho' his royal robe is wet
With his sire's blood; and in his ears as yet
There waileth on a father's agony,
And yet he falters nothing: and shall we,
Hopeless of mercy, vex our soul with fears?
Nay, rather crave his thunder, if he hears
And is not drowsy with his long revenge.
Reach as the lightning reaches, and thy hands
Smite down the old perfections of the earth,
That came with blind old Saturn's dead commands,
And totter with his fall. The new god stands
Supreme, altho' his royal robe is wet
With his sire's blood; and in his ears as yet
There waileth on a father's agony,
And yet he falters nothing: and shall we,
Hopeless of mercy, vex our soul with fears?
Nay, rather crave his thunder, if he hears
And is not drowsy with his long revenge.
Who shall ascend unto thine iron eyes,
Who shall make moan or prayer that may prevail?
For thou art satiate with so many sighs,
I do not think O Zeus, thou wilt arise,
Fed with delight and all sweet dream and thought,
Thou wilt not rise supreme
In thy beatitude;
For fleeting love is nought,
And human gratitude
In thy cold splendid cloud must tremble to intrude.
Who shall make moan or prayer that may prevail?
For thou art satiate with so many sighs,
I do not think O Zeus, thou wilt arise,
Fed with delight and all sweet dream and thought,
Thou wilt not rise supreme
In thy beatitude;
For fleeting love is nought,
And human gratitude
In thy cold splendid cloud must tremble to intrude.
Let us go up and look him in the face,
We are but as he made us; the disgrace
Of this, our imperfection, is his own.
And unabashed in that fierce glare and blaze,
Front him and say,
“We come not to atone,
To cringe and moan:
God, vindicate thy way.
Erase the staining sorrow we have known,
Thou, whom ill things obey;
And give our clay
Some master bliss imperial as thy own:
Or wipe us quite away,
Far from the ray of thine eternal throne.
Dream not, we love this sorrow of our breath,
Hope not, we wince or palpitate at death;
Slay us, for thine is nature and thy slave:
Draw down her clouds to be our sacrifice,
And heap unmeasured mountain for our grave,
With peaks of fire and ice.
Flicker one cord of lightning, north to south,
And mix in awful glories wood and cloud;
We shall have rest, and find
Illimitable darkness for our shroud;
We shall have peace, then, surely, when thy mouth
Breathes us away into the darkness blind,
Then only kind.”
We are but as he made us; the disgrace
Of this, our imperfection, is his own.
And unabashed in that fierce glare and blaze,
Front him and say,
“We come not to atone,
To cringe and moan:
God, vindicate thy way.
Erase the staining sorrow we have known,
Thou, whom ill things obey;
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Some master bliss imperial as thy own:
Or wipe us quite away,
Far from the ray of thine eternal throne.
Dream not, we love this sorrow of our breath,
Hope not, we wince or palpitate at death;
Slay us, for thine is nature and thy slave:
Draw down her clouds to be our sacrifice,
And heap unmeasured mountain for our grave,
With peaks of fire and ice.
Flicker one cord of lightning, north to south,
And mix in awful glories wood and cloud;
We shall have rest, and find
Illimitable darkness for our shroud;
We shall have peace, then, surely, when thy mouth
Breathes us away into the darkness blind,
Then only kind.”
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |