The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
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A HYMN TO APHRODITE |
 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
373
A HYMN TO APHRODITE
Uranian Aphrodite, fair
From ripples of the ocean spray:
Sweet as the sea-blooms in thy hair,
Rosed with the blush of early day,
O hear us from thy temple steep,
Where Eryx crowns the Dorian deep.
From ripples of the ocean spray:
Sweet as the sea-blooms in thy hair,
Rosed with the blush of early day,
O hear us from thy temple steep,
Where Eryx crowns the Dorian deep.
Unfold the rapture of thy face,
No more thy lustrous eyes conceal:
But from the rivers of thy grace
The rich abundant joys reveal
Give us the treasures of thy rest,
Take us as children to thy breast.
No more thy lustrous eyes conceal:
But from the rivers of thy grace
The rich abundant joys reveal
Give us the treasures of thy rest,
Take us as children to thy breast.
Desired of all the ages long,
As Morning young, as old as Fate
The kneeling world with choral song
Has crowded round thy altar gate.
Thine are the seasons past and dumb,
And thine the unborn years to come.
As Morning young, as old as Fate
The kneeling world with choral song
Has crowded round thy altar gate.
Thine are the seasons past and dumb,
And thine the unborn years to come.
We are not worthy to endure
The fervour of thy burning eyes,
Thy perfect lips, thy bosom pure,
Thy radiant aspect, sweetly wise.
Breathe balm upon our span of breath,
For thou art almost queen of death.
The fervour of thy burning eyes,
Thy perfect lips, thy bosom pure,
Thy radiant aspect, sweetly wise.
Breathe balm upon our span of breath,
For thou art almost queen of death.
To thee, enwreathed with passion flowers,
Our unreluctant prayers are given:
Thou art so near, when other powers
Seem worlds away in frigid heaven:
They know not, for they live apart,
The craving tumult of the heart.
Our unreluctant prayers are given:
Thou art so near, when other powers
Seem worlds away in frigid heaven:
They know not, for they live apart,
The craving tumult of the heart.
Thy altar needs no victim slain:
It reeks not with the bleeding steer;
Thy kingdom is no realm of pain,
Thy worship is no creature's fear.
Yet art thou trebly more divine,
Needing no hecatombs of kine.
It reeks not with the bleeding steer;
Thy kingdom is no realm of pain,
Thy worship is no creature's fear.
Yet art thou trebly more divine,
Needing no hecatombs of kine.
374
The empires wane, the empires grow:
They prosper or they are dismayed:
Time lays their wrangling voices low,
The victors and the vanquished fade.
The foam-wreath on the crested spray
Lasts but an instant less than they.
They prosper or they are dismayed:
Time lays their wrangling voices low,
The victors and the vanquished fade.
The foam-wreath on the crested spray
Lasts but an instant less than they.
But thou abidest, in thy might
Eternal, and a rainbow beam
Is round thy head; and clusters bright
Of orbs among thy tresses gleam:
Clothed in the garment of the sun,
Sweet as the star of day begun.
Eternal, and a rainbow beam
Is round thy head; and clusters bright
Of orbs among thy tresses gleam:
Clothed in the garment of the sun,
Sweet as the star of day begun.
Parent of Nature, lovely queen,
Awake the frozen land's repose,
Until the perfumed buds are seen
With promise of the myriad rose.
Descend, and on thy halcyon wing
Unlock the fountains of the spring.
Awake the frozen land's repose,
Until the perfumed buds are seen
With promise of the myriad rose.
Descend, and on thy halcyon wing
Unlock the fountains of the spring.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |