University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Fables in Song

By Robert Lord Lytton

collapse sectionI. 
  
collapse sectionI. 
  
  
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 II. 
collapse sectionIII. 
  
 I. 
collapse sectionII. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
  
collapse sectionVII. 
collapse sectionI. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 II. 
 III. 
collapse sectionIV. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
collapse sectionVIII. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
collapse sectionXVI. 
  
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
collapse sectionXIX. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 XX. 
collapse sectionXXI. 
 I. 
 II. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
collapse sectionXXV. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 XXVI. 
collapse sectionXXVII. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
collapse sectionXXVIII. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse sectionII. 
  
collapse sectionXXIX. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 XXX. 
collapse sectionXXXI. 
 I. 
 II. 
PART II.
 III. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
collapse sectionXLII. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 8. 
 9. 
 10. 
 11. 
 XLIII. 
collapse sectionXLIV. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 XLV. 
collapse sectionXLVI. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
collapse sectionXLIX. 
 I. 
 III. 
collapse sectionIII. 
 1. 
 2. 
 IV. 
 L. 
collapse sectionLI. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
collapse sectionLX. 
  
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 

II. PART II.

Large was the chamber; bathed with light serene
And silence tuned, not troubled, by the sound
Of one cool fountain tinkling in the green
Of laurel groves that girt the porches round.

39

And in that chamber the sole dwellers were
Ideas, clad in clear and stately shape;
Save one, a prisoner, huge, uncouth, and bare,
Hung fast in fetters, hopeless of escape,
And broken at the heart,—a Marble Block.
Even as a hero, in base ambuscade
Fallen; so, fall'n, and from his native rock
Borne here in chains, the indignant Marble made
No moan; but round, in dumb remonstrance gazed;
And, gazing, saw, surprised, all round him stand
The images of gods. With right arm raised,
Jove lauch'd the thunders from his loaded hand:
A light of undulating lovelinesses,
Rose foam-born Venus from the foam: and, dread
With dismal beauty, by its serpent tresses
Did sworded Perseus lift Medusa's head:
There paused a-tiptoe wing-capp'd Mercury:
Apollo, pensive smiling, linger'd here:
There stately Pallas stood, with brooding eye,
Full arm'd, and grasp'd the ægis and the spear.
A kindred instinct flash'd, a sudden glow
Thrill'd, sparkling, through the Marble's crystal gain.
“Flesh of my flesh,” he cried, “I know you now,
You stately statues! and myself would fain
Be also even as ye are.”—“After me!”
A mocking voice made answer from below.
“Wretch!” laugh'd the lucid Marble, “after thee?”
For, not far off, he notice, by a row

40

Of pitchers, huddled in a slimy trough,
The lumpish Clay. “Baseborn, how darest thou show
Thy face in Beauty's sanctuary ? Off!
Did not I banish thee when I” . . . “When thou
Thyself wast yet unbanisht, wouldst thou say?
True! in try pride thou couldst not then foresee
The hour when me thou must perforce obey.
For thou will have to obey me.”—“Obey thee?”
“Ay! grinding they gnasht teeth against the fine
Keen flitting chisel, when thy nature stern
Must needs submit to serve each fluent line
My form imposes on it; that, in turn,
Thou mayst, by following me, be something.”—“I?
I follow thee, wretch?”—“Ho! not broken yet
Is thy proud spirit? Patience! By and by
Thou, too, wilt need, as I have needed, it.”