 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
THE LAMENT OF PHAETHON'S SISTERS
The short-lived crocus bring and moly bloom,
Sweet incense, gum, and odorous cedar burn,
With roses we will strew his sepulchre,
A vernal wreathing for a royal tomb.
Sweet incense, gum, and odorous cedar burn,
With roses we will strew his sepulchre,
A vernal wreathing for a royal tomb.
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Ill-fated, most presumptuous brother mine,
The gleaming chariot couldst thou dare ascend
To guide the sun-steeds, mortal charioteer?
The gleaming chariot couldst thou dare ascend
To guide the sun-steeds, mortal charioteer?
Our father, he the unapproachable,
Phœbus, the Lord of Delos, in his sphere
Eternally surrounded by the flakes
Of awful glory—frowned at thy request,
Nor yet denied it: rashly hath he sworn
By that infernal river, which alone
Can bind the ageless gods in their despite,
That he will hear the first boon of his son.
Phœbus, the Lord of Delos, in his sphere
Eternally surrounded by the flakes
Of awful glory—frowned at thy request,
Nor yet denied it: rashly hath he sworn
By that infernal river, which alone
Can bind the ageless gods in their despite,
That he will hear the first boon of his son.
Ah, ye our father's horses, steeds of day,
Could ye destroy this brother, to our tears?
Hence shall we no more bring you golden food,
Divine, ambrosial barley: now no more
Our hands shall love to sleek your proud necks down,
No more our wandering fingers comb your manes:
Ye have betrayed him, to our utter woe.
Could ye destroy this brother, to our tears?
Hence shall we no more bring you golden food,
Divine, ambrosial barley: now no more
Our hands shall love to sleek your proud necks down,
No more our wandering fingers comb your manes:
Ye have betrayed him, to our utter woe.
Then sped the bolt of Zeus, eternal King,
An irresistible vengeance on thy head,
To scorch thy wretched life, and thou wast hurled
Out on the realms of space, as falls a grain
Of sand to sound the ocean infinite.
Immeasurable depth, and falling still,
Three days among the stars, and falling still,
Blackened with lightning, towards the misty earth.
An irresistible vengeance on thy head,
To scorch thy wretched life, and thou wast hurled
Out on the realms of space, as falls a grain
Of sand to sound the ocean infinite.
Immeasurable depth, and falling still,
Three days among the stars, and falling still,
Blackened with lightning, towards the misty earth.
Until we found thee by the river here;
Thy beauty scarred; with sad distorted face:
Our love alone had known thee in that hour.
Thy beauty scarred; with sad distorted face:
Our love alone had known thee in that hour.
Here in the genial bosom of the mould,
Enswathed with costly cerement, choose his rest:
And we sad watchers, by its sacred rim,
Upon the crystal river weep long tears,
And thick as amber rain our sorrow down.
Enswathed with costly cerement, choose his rest:
And we sad watchers, by its sacred rim,
Upon the crystal river weep long tears,
And thick as amber rain our sorrow down.
And sigh, as yonder margin poplars sigh,
That droop above the sedges their sere leaves;
With these in unison shall moan the flood
A dirge for thee, beloved one, brother mine,
Ill-fated, most ill-fated brother mine.
That droop above the sedges their sere leaves;
With these in unison shall moan the flood
A dirge for thee, beloved one, brother mine,
Ill-fated, most ill-fated brother mine.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |