 | Bellerophôn |  |
131
ADÔNIS AND APHRODÎTÊ.
I
Ah, Aphrodîtê, godlike was thy prideWhen Arês crowned thee victor,—when the choice
Of Ida's shepherd let the apple glide
In thy fair hands curled cuplike,—when the voice
That shook Olumpos took a silver tone,
Fearful lest sudden tears should stain the face
It chided trembling; and when Psuchê bowed
To thee her subject beauty and made moan,—
Meek to the peerless mother,—thou wert proud.
II
Yea, and as goddess thou hast oft grown paleWith love's dread languishment. The kingly sire
Of Ilium's foster-hope, whom thou didst quail
With quivering lightning, wrought in thee the tire
Of stifled passion. Thou didst yearn for him
And many a rose-lipped mortal. Love's sweet sigh
That sorrow touches touched thee sorrowingly,
And the deep aureate hair grew golden dim,
The blue-flower eyes drooped sunless: maidens die
Of that which is a smile's death unto thee.
132
III
But never wert thou woman until now,Suppliant, caressing, tremulous, and wild
At thine own impotence to win the brow
Of thy free hunter-boy, to thee, the child
That from the chase restrains.—Adônis, haste
From the fair arms that belt thee; for blue eyes,
Blue radiant eyes, sun-lifted tearfully,
And a white bosom ruffled, wilt thou waste
The glorious manhood maidens tendril-wise
Creep to as vines;—for which she crept to thee?
IV
But thou, Bright Grace, defied and spelless, tornBy mortal pangs, to inmost godhead slain
From quiver thou wert wont to fill, what scorn
Shall make a fair corpse of thy living pain,
And shroud it as for burial? Be bold
To hide the haughty shame that ages thee,
To close with tomblike lips the sobbing breath;
Make marble the pale cheek; imperially
Bear the dread sickness and the shuddering cold—
All those immortal limbs can learn of death.
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