The American Odyssey Adventures of Ulysses (So much as may interest the present time); Exposed, in modest hudibrastic measure, by Abel Reid and A. N. Broome ... To which is appended an allegory of King Augeas |
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 | The American Odyssey |  |
5
ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES
BOOK THE FIRST
THE ARGUMENT
How great Ulysses, in the caveOf danger most extreme,
Exposed his wisdom and did brave
The one-eyed Polypheme.
Ulysses' hopes and toils and woes,—
His wanderings from first to close,—
Inspire me, Muse! that I may say,
Or sing, in a prevailing way.
We all know how his martial skill
Baffled the Trojan horse until
At Appomattox they gave in,—
Both horse and man. I would begin
My lay what time he, taking rest
With King Alcineus, his request
Attending, did to him relate
The story of his after fate.
The King and he had duly dined;
Fed well, and, being fully wined,
Retired to Ulysses' private room,
To taste tobacco's best perfume.
Coarse portraits hanging round the walls,
All in due order of their stalls,
Of his choice friends, preferr'd as stable,—
First-brand Havanas on the table,
And lackey waiting at the door,
In case his Highness rang for more,—
United Royalty were sat;
And after sandwiching their chat
With monologues of that and this,
King Alcineus of Wise Ulyss'
Inquired, desirous of a view
Of the perils that he had gone through,
Et cetera. The Wise-in-speech
Drew demijohn within his reach—
But start, Muse! without more demur.
How sweet (Ulysses loquitur)
The products of a peaceful reign!
The well-fill'd White House and the gain
Of fat revenues, frequent feast,
And drink, and smoke; and, not the least
Of royal joys, but president,
The knowing such things permanent!
O King Alcineus! thou art blest:
But I—I'm but a brief-term guest,
Scarce saddled on my regal right;
And poor my record. Small delight
My tale can give thy kingly mind.
We sail'd from Ilion. The wind,
Fair for our voyage, full quickly bore
Our vessel to the Shycoons' shore,
Where, anchoring in Samana's Bay,
We hoped to make an easy prey;
But were repulsed,—it boots not how:
So weigh'd, and set our craft with prow
Toward the Lotophagian Isle.
The Gods themselves take many a smile
To that enchanting land, whose Lars
Welcome all strangers, and great jars
Crooked and deep and brimm'd with juice
Hold to the thirsty-lipp'd. Long use
Had we of that nectareous food,
And ever found the taste more good,
More tasteful, and with full content
Were minded so our lives to 've spent;
But Fate, that overrules design,
Drove us again across the brine,
And flung us, in unlucky hour,
Among the Cyclops, who devour
Those victims stranded on their coast.
Haled there, I know not why, but toss'd
By treacherous waves, their dark domain
We invade, scarce to escape again.
There wandering loosely to and fro,
We chanced unwittingly to go
Into, as one goes to his grave,
The Cyclop Polyphemus' cave;
And hardly had we time to hide
I' the cupboard, when the wretch, left-eyed,
With close-wrapp'd bandage o'er the right,
Round prying with unequal sight,
Beheld us. Of my comrades two
He seized; and straight his wide maw knew
Their bodies, living there in-thrown,
Quick-crunch'd, as hound might crunch a bone.
Grimly he grinn'd, and turn'd agape
Myself-ward. “Let no man escape!”
I craftily exclaim'd, with thought
By ready guile to bring to naught
His greedier will. For if one word
Assenting fell from him, that cord
Would bind his after acts and fix
My safety, as if sworn by Sticks:
For I myself call'd by that name
Of No-man. But my little game
Of bluff was useless, and no sound
Articulate for answer found,
But noise of ruminance. Unsate,
Two more he lifted. One he ate;
Th' other, the purser of my ship
And captain's clerk, gave him the slip.
For while the One-eyed smiling lingers,
Licking the warm blood from his fingers,
He drops out from the mess of gore,
And in the letter-hole o' the door
Squeezes himself with lucky wit.
He got him pass'd adown the slit;
And I, though thicker, would have crept
Through also, but the monster slept
After his gorge; so I design'd
The means to make my enemy blind,
With handy spear-point in his eye:
And then myself and friends would fly.
But we were barr'd in, the door shut
And bolted, and we could not put
The bolt back; and so kept “to hum,”
The while he snored we drank his rum,
Until—
His wanderings from first to close,—
Inspire me, Muse! that I may say,
Or sing, in a prevailing way.
We all know how his martial skill
Baffled the Trojan horse until
At Appomattox they gave in,—
Both horse and man. I would begin
My lay what time he, taking rest
With King Alcineus, his request
Attending, did to him relate
The story of his after fate.
The King and he had duly dined;
Fed well, and, being fully wined,
Retired to Ulysses' private room,
To taste tobacco's best perfume.
Coarse portraits hanging round the walls,
All in due order of their stalls,
6
First-brand Havanas on the table,
And lackey waiting at the door,
In case his Highness rang for more,—
United Royalty were sat;
And after sandwiching their chat
With monologues of that and this,
King Alcineus of Wise Ulyss'
Inquired, desirous of a view
Of the perils that he had gone through,
Et cetera. The Wise-in-speech
Drew demijohn within his reach—
But start, Muse! without more demur.
How sweet (Ulysses loquitur)
The products of a peaceful reign!
The well-fill'd White House and the gain
Of fat revenues, frequent feast,
And drink, and smoke; and, not the least
Of royal joys, but president,
The knowing such things permanent!
O King Alcineus! thou art blest:
But I—I'm but a brief-term guest,
Scarce saddled on my regal right;
And poor my record. Small delight
My tale can give thy kingly mind.
We sail'd from Ilion. The wind,
Fair for our voyage, full quickly bore
Our vessel to the Shycoons' shore,
Where, anchoring in Samana's Bay,
We hoped to make an easy prey;
But were repulsed,—it boots not how:
So weigh'd, and set our craft with prow
Toward the Lotophagian Isle.
The Gods themselves take many a smile
7
Welcome all strangers, and great jars
Crooked and deep and brimm'd with juice
Hold to the thirsty-lipp'd. Long use
Had we of that nectareous food,
And ever found the taste more good,
More tasteful, and with full content
Were minded so our lives to 've spent;
But Fate, that overrules design,
Drove us again across the brine,
And flung us, in unlucky hour,
Among the Cyclops, who devour
Those victims stranded on their coast.
Haled there, I know not why, but toss'd
By treacherous waves, their dark domain
We invade, scarce to escape again.
There wandering loosely to and fro,
We chanced unwittingly to go
Into, as one goes to his grave,
The Cyclop Polyphemus' cave;
And hardly had we time to hide
I' the cupboard, when the wretch, left-eyed,
With close-wrapp'd bandage o'er the right,
Round prying with unequal sight,
Beheld us. Of my comrades two
He seized; and straight his wide maw knew
Their bodies, living there in-thrown,
Quick-crunch'd, as hound might crunch a bone.
Grimly he grinn'd, and turn'd agape
Myself-ward. “Let no man escape!”
I craftily exclaim'd, with thought
By ready guile to bring to naught
His greedier will. For if one word
Assenting fell from him, that cord
8
My safety, as if sworn by Sticks:
For I myself call'd by that name
Of No-man. But my little game
Of bluff was useless, and no sound
Articulate for answer found,
But noise of ruminance. Unsate,
Two more he lifted. One he ate;
Th' other, the purser of my ship
And captain's clerk, gave him the slip.
For while the One-eyed smiling lingers,
Licking the warm blood from his fingers,
He drops out from the mess of gore,
And in the letter-hole o' the door
Squeezes himself with lucky wit.
He got him pass'd adown the slit;
And I, though thicker, would have crept
Through also, but the monster slept
After his gorge; so I design'd
The means to make my enemy blind,
With handy spear-point in his eye:
And then myself and friends would fly.
But we were barr'd in, the door shut
And bolted, and we could not put
The bolt back; and so kept “to hum,”
The while he snored we drank his rum,
Until—
And here Alcineus too
Was snoring, and so never knew,
Unless he learn'd it in a dream,
How wise Ulyss' baulk'd Polypheme.
Was snoring, and so never knew,
Unless he learn'd it in a dream,
How wise Ulyss' baulk'd Polypheme.
9
BOOK THE SECOND
THE ARGUMENT
To raise the wind with ÆolusSufficient pains he takes;
Brings Circè home to Shame's White House,
And pleasant dalliance makes.
What man can tell, when first he stoops
To drink and hides within the hoops
Of whiskey-barrels, of his end?
Fleeting the pleasure drink can lend
Heroic souls; and sensual greed
(This Henry Ward would own indeed)
Is pledged to Ruin. Sad the count
Of Icaries intent to mount,
Who wax and wane because unwean'd
From Mamma Bourbon! How he lean'd
And toppled over, and so fell!
Of one such I have now to tell;
Or he with his own voice may speak,
Hoarse, but emphatic.
To drink and hides within the hoops
Of whiskey-barrels, of his end?
Fleeting the pleasure drink can lend
Heroic souls; and sensual greed
(This Henry Ward would own indeed)
Is pledged to Ruin. Sad the count
Of Icaries intent to mount,
Who wax and wane because unwean'd
From Mamma Bourbon! How he lean'd
And toppled over, and so fell!
Of one such I have now to tell;
Or he with his own voice may speak,
Hoarse, but emphatic.
Many a week
(Ulysses said, between the smoke
And grog. For King Alcineus woke
That night he heard of Polypheme;
And the next night Ulyss' his theme
Resumed),—for many a week we dared
Not think o' the Cyclops, so through-scared.
But I must tell you of the fun
I had with Circè. She was one
Of quite a different brand, you bet!
And happy man he who can get
A place with her. Well, we had struck
Her isle; and had the wit or luck
To please her goddessship. Her house
Stood in a vale, conspicuous
With marble pillars, and all white;
And a broad avenue led forthright
To the fore-court. At farther end
O' the avenue Dame Circè penn'd
Her farming stock, in which great joy
She had. And many a pretty boy
And old-'nough-to-know-better man
Pigg'd there: you know the story ran
Of many lovers she seduced,
Whom when they gat them to their roost
She changed to beasts, and kept them so.
We'd heard so much, but did not know
The whole truth until we lodged there.
Not that the truth gave us much care.
Enough, that at her palace gate
She never let her suitors wait;
And we were hungry, and right prompt
To be her guests without accompt.
Elected, seated, and much fed,
We liked her full-blown lustyhed,
Approved her cates, and in her wine
Pledged her, as queenly as divine;
Feasting without compunctious heed
Of what might be the sort of feed
The Witch provided. Day by day
Reclined before her board we lay;
And day by day I found my crew
Growing more beast-like. Just a few
Retain'd awhile a manly shape;
But one was changing to an ape;
One's nose poked out, a red-hair'd fox;
One wore the dewlap of an ox;
One 'gan to neigh in horsey slang;
More bray'd; and one with nasal twang
Was preacher-monkey; one took guise
Of wolf, with tusks and cruel eyes;
Some doggedly would bark whene'er
An honest man, by chance, pass'd there;
And some, their human form divine
Scarce worsen'd, were becoming swine,—
So like to hogs at their first start,
The face but more express'd the heart.
One was n't anything but fish.
Him I loved well, and at my wish
The Goddess kept him for her Fool—
Myself, in a small stagnant pool
Within the White House garden space.
'T was droll to see his fishy face
And watch his upturn'd watery eyes
Agaze for Spanish liquorice,
With which we fed him, I and she:
For she would make great court to me,
Treating me like an equal king:
Nor would deny me anything.
So change went on in all beside
Ulysses: Circè was his bride.
Day after day I miss'd a friend,
And sometimes I would go or send
Down to the Farm; and sure enough
There were they. They would whine and snuff
About me, crawling on all fours,
Like lobbyists at Congress doors,
With supplications piteous,
Knowing me.
(Ulysses said, between the smoke
And grog. For King Alcineus woke
That night he heard of Polypheme;
And the next night Ulyss' his theme
10
Not think o' the Cyclops, so through-scared.
But I must tell you of the fun
I had with Circè. She was one
Of quite a different brand, you bet!
And happy man he who can get
A place with her. Well, we had struck
Her isle; and had the wit or luck
To please her goddessship. Her house
Stood in a vale, conspicuous
With marble pillars, and all white;
And a broad avenue led forthright
To the fore-court. At farther end
O' the avenue Dame Circè penn'd
Her farming stock, in which great joy
She had. And many a pretty boy
And old-'nough-to-know-better man
Pigg'd there: you know the story ran
Of many lovers she seduced,
Whom when they gat them to their roost
She changed to beasts, and kept them so.
We'd heard so much, but did not know
The whole truth until we lodged there.
Not that the truth gave us much care.
Enough, that at her palace gate
She never let her suitors wait;
And we were hungry, and right prompt
To be her guests without accompt.
Elected, seated, and much fed,
We liked her full-blown lustyhed,
Approved her cates, and in her wine
Pledged her, as queenly as divine;
Feasting without compunctious heed
Of what might be the sort of feed
11
Reclined before her board we lay;
And day by day I found my crew
Growing more beast-like. Just a few
Retain'd awhile a manly shape;
But one was changing to an ape;
One's nose poked out, a red-hair'd fox;
One wore the dewlap of an ox;
One 'gan to neigh in horsey slang;
More bray'd; and one with nasal twang
Was preacher-monkey; one took guise
Of wolf, with tusks and cruel eyes;
Some doggedly would bark whene'er
An honest man, by chance, pass'd there;
And some, their human form divine
Scarce worsen'd, were becoming swine,—
So like to hogs at their first start,
The face but more express'd the heart.
One was n't anything but fish.
Him I loved well, and at my wish
The Goddess kept him for her Fool—
Myself, in a small stagnant pool
Within the White House garden space.
'T was droll to see his fishy face
And watch his upturn'd watery eyes
Agaze for Spanish liquorice,
With which we fed him, I and she:
For she would make great court to me,
Treating me like an equal king:
Nor would deny me anything.
So change went on in all beside
Ulysses: Circè was his bride.
Day after day I miss'd a friend,
And sometimes I would go or send
12
There were they. They would whine and snuff
About me, crawling on all fours,
Like lobbyists at Congress doors,
With supplications piteous,
Knowing me.
What of Æolus?
(Alcineus ask'd.)
(Alcineus ask'd.)
The Windy Lord
Found means that help'd us Circè-ward
(Replied the Wise King); we had bags
He gave, fill'd with, not filthy rags,
But gold and silver, which at first
He grudged not; but wind-bags will burst;
And one Black Friday—Corbyn knows.
But we'll not talk of that. Where goes
The money? Thunder!! who can tell,
Or whence it comes? You might as well
Ask Kilbourne. We have had, be sure!
Enough to battle and endure.
The great Wind-Raiser is not kind
Always; times bearish; when the wind
Sank we took whiskey. Guess our grief,
Our pains! Imagine some mean thief
Who past the household, all abed
And thoughtless, creeps with stealthy tread,
Mask'd, fearful! Why, in time of war
I sent my foragers afar
In the face of day, and laid bold hand
On what I would: my one command
Was law enough. And now my doom—
To skulk like maggot in a tomb,
And seek in darkness and in dread,
By crooked paths untrack'd instead
Of martial prowess, what I want.
I never was much given to vaunt,—
A silent man, and close, and wise,—
But never had I, for supplies,
In all the years of that great war
Such difficulty as I bore
For Circè's sake.—Return to her,
And Æolus be blow'd! Ah, Sir!
For over seven years I remain'd
Her slave; and would that I were chain'd
To the same oar for another term!
Large as her cup is, I'd not squirm,
But drain it to the veriest dregs.
It never fetch'd me off my legs:
Though 't may be my supporters shook
Returning from the walks I took,
Before reported, to the Styes.
But—Steady! said I; and my eyes
Straight kept, though times the avenue
Seem'd turning a little crooked too.
But no one noticed such things there.
Well, Circè acted on the square
With me; but yet, however charm'd,
Thoughts of a possible change alarm'd;
So trepidating, I besought
The God of thievish craft, and brought
Him gifts, intreating his advice
How to evade the precipice
Tow'rd which, like the Pigs in Holy Writ,
I edged, on Circè's throne to sit.
A potent herb he gave to me
To mollify her sorcery:
“This,” said he, “in your usual cup,
Bed-time!” I mix'd and drank it up.
That night, as in her lap I lay
Caress'd, pretending to obey
The stealthy whispering of Sleep,
I felt like—struck all of a heap,
To see her alter'd countenance:
Ugly! Her right arm did advance
Toward her wand, set idly by
(I kept the pig-look in my eye,
Watchful): she raised and waved it thrice,
Muttering,—“I think that may suffice”;
Then loud, in voice that sounded strange,—
“Thou Beast!” I wink'd, and did not change.
Found means that help'd us Circè-ward
(Replied the Wise King); we had bags
He gave, fill'd with, not filthy rags,
But gold and silver, which at first
He grudged not; but wind-bags will burst;
And one Black Friday—Corbyn knows.
But we'll not talk of that. Where goes
The money? Thunder!! who can tell,
Or whence it comes? You might as well
Ask Kilbourne. We have had, be sure!
Enough to battle and endure.
The great Wind-Raiser is not kind
Always; times bearish; when the wind
Sank we took whiskey. Guess our grief,
Our pains! Imagine some mean thief
Who past the household, all abed
And thoughtless, creeps with stealthy tread,
Mask'd, fearful! Why, in time of war
I sent my foragers afar
In the face of day, and laid bold hand
On what I would: my one command
Was law enough. And now my doom—
To skulk like maggot in a tomb,
And seek in darkness and in dread,
By crooked paths untrack'd instead
13
I never was much given to vaunt,—
A silent man, and close, and wise,—
But never had I, for supplies,
In all the years of that great war
Such difficulty as I bore
For Circè's sake.—Return to her,
And Æolus be blow'd! Ah, Sir!
For over seven years I remain'd
Her slave; and would that I were chain'd
To the same oar for another term!
Large as her cup is, I'd not squirm,
But drain it to the veriest dregs.
It never fetch'd me off my legs:
Though 't may be my supporters shook
Returning from the walks I took,
Before reported, to the Styes.
But—Steady! said I; and my eyes
Straight kept, though times the avenue
Seem'd turning a little crooked too.
But no one noticed such things there.
Well, Circè acted on the square
With me; but yet, however charm'd,
Thoughts of a possible change alarm'd;
So trepidating, I besought
The God of thievish craft, and brought
Him gifts, intreating his advice
How to evade the precipice
Tow'rd which, like the Pigs in Holy Writ,
I edged, on Circè's throne to sit.
A potent herb he gave to me
To mollify her sorcery:
“This,” said he, “in your usual cup,
Bed-time!” I mix'd and drank it up.
14
Caress'd, pretending to obey
The stealthy whispering of Sleep,
I felt like—struck all of a heap,
To see her alter'd countenance:
Ugly! Her right arm did advance
Toward her wand, set idly by
(I kept the pig-look in my eye,
Watchful): she raised and waved it thrice,
Muttering,—“I think that may suffice”;
Then loud, in voice that sounded strange,—
“Thou Beast!” I wink'd, and did not change.
You'd think that after this, perhaps,
There 'd be no more of lying in laps,
Of my Corruption. Savage! you
Know naught of what the Civilized do.
I liked her,—she, when she 'd to find
Ulysses held a constant mind,
Did as all prudent women know
Is best, when two in the same boat row:
Work'd her one scull in time with mine;
And taught me all her art divine,
And latest craft. 'T was then she said,—
'T were wise, ere I were really dead,
To learn the secret of the grave,
My future doom, if I dared brave
That simmering cauldron, Tartarus.
What dared I not, both curious
And for gain' sake? Another night
Shall tell you of the ghostly sight,
And all the history of the event.
(They took another drink, and went.)
There 'd be no more of lying in laps,
Of my Corruption. Savage! you
Know naught of what the Civilized do.
I liked her,—she, when she 'd to find
Ulysses held a constant mind,
Did as all prudent women know
Is best, when two in the same boat row:
Work'd her one scull in time with mine;
And taught me all her art divine,
And latest craft. 'T was then she said,—
'T were wise, ere I were really dead,
To learn the secret of the grave,
My future doom, if I dared brave
That simmering cauldron, Tartarus.
What dared I not, both curious
And for gain' sake? Another night
Shall tell you of the ghostly sight,
And all the history of the event.
(They took another drink, and went.)
15
BOOK THE THIRD
THE ARGUMENT
The merry Goddess bids him goVisit his friends in Hell:
He goes, sees them; what things they show,—
Some past, some they foretell.
Again the King and President
Are sandwich'd, with the pleasant scent
Of smoke between; nor that alone,
But on the board the best Bourbon
St. Louis spins. Alcineus nods
T' Ulyss', then thinking of the odds,
Who rubs his nose and, winking slow,
Picks up his parable.
Are sandwich'd, with the pleasant scent
Of smoke between; nor that alone,
But on the board the best Bourbon
St. Louis spins. Alcineus nods
T' Ulyss', then thinking of the odds,
Who rubs his nose and, winking slow,
Picks up his parable.
That 's so!
Was it a dream, or not? Methought
I went there where the souls are brought
Of heroes buried and unburied;
Then, o'er the stream by Charon ferried,
I pass'd the Triple-headed Dog.
Three heads—three terms—I said: the fog
Got in my head. When I recover'd
I stood among the crowd that hover'd
Alongside Acheron,—not yet damn'd,
Nor yet Elysian,—somewhat jamm'd,
So many of the first who tried
To shake hands ere I stept inside:
Post-traders, other 'custom'd thieves,
Shame-swallowers from the White House eaves,
Dealers in seal-skins from Alaska,
'Frisco distillers; it would task a
Life to catalogue the lot
Of patriot parasites. God wot,
More vermin Ercles had not won
By small-tooth-combing Washington,
The District given in,—the whole
At Babcock measure, free from toll!
They hustled me, pull'd me about,
And would perforce have kept me out
In spite of all my force of will,
So popular I found me still;
Nay! rather with me 'd enter Hell
Than lose my friendly last farewell.
But I had business in view,
So shied affection, and broke through.
To speak of Tartarus, breadth and length,
'S beyond my conversational strength:
Enough, 't was crowded too, and hot,
Unpleasantly; I soon had got
Over the fence into the Fields,
But a close row of red-hot shields,
With regular red-hot spears above,
Hotly forbade that cool remove.
And else 't was from the souls in bale
That I must learn what might avail
For future guidance. So I stay'd,
As coolly as I could, afraid
But imperturbable, my wont;
And stolidly set my face t' affront
The worst of Hell, the worst too thin
To outstare me. How shall I begin
My tale o' the immaterial hosts,
Not dim but bodiless, of ghosts—
Like forms of paraffine full-blown
In a way to mediums not unknown—
Meeting my sight,—mere bubbles, all
Transparent, hypocritical?
I rank them only as they burst
Upon my gaze. Boss Shepherd first;
And then weird-looking Schenck; and him
Lackeying, a silly man too slim
Almost for seeing; there I knew
My o'er-vile brother; Father, too—
Respected shade; and all the Dents,
Of general or particular bents;
And Sharp; and nameless rel'tives; Red
Ingalls; and Honoré,—my Fred
Was with him, and our own judge Stone;
Some other judges I could own;
Harrington; Hastings; Elkins; Hatch;
Jim Casey, whom I tried to catch,
But, using Billings as a blind,
He slipp'd that shade o' fraud behind:
All these I saw; yet look'd around
For others I had gladly found.
Most miss'd I him, my Brave of Braves,
Who ranged our soldiers in their graves,
And, mindful of an ancient rite,
Entomb'd their mules beside them. Sight
Of him was granted me at last,
Stuck in a marsh, stuck soft and fast,
To the throat in dirt, and hot (I tried—
Poor Belknap); and his head beside
Sprawl'd crab-caught Robeson. Porter—not
The advocate Ward Beecher got,
Not Noah, but Horace,—my own man;
Stewart; and Williams, playing fan
For Chandler; Sargent; Logan; Blaine;
Creswell, in straw; and then a train—
No need to mention names of all—
As if o' the House had been a call—
Of Congressmen and Senators:
All these met me; but not one stirs
A tongue—perhaps too dry—to say
If I should follow our old lay,—
A lay which I began to doubt;
Though 't was n't bad before found out.
'T was clear from them naught would be learn'd
For my behoof. But I discern'd
Dimly, upon the other side,
Three forms, which noting, I descried
As old-time friends. And as each nears
The hot confine, across the spears
He leans—that did not seem to burn,
As intimating I should turn
And list his meditated speech.
Haughty yet sad the look of each,
As condescending to the task
Of answering what my thoughts but ask.
Stanton was one, with brow severe;
And Rawling, formerly so dear,
Pale and attenuate as when
He left me,—left both sword and pen;
The third was Sumner, grand of port.
I wish'd to speak; but they cut short
My greetings, and their hands withdrew.
Then Rawling spoke, the while he threw
A scornful glance: “Hast thou forgot
Thy promise pledged to me? thou Sot!
Thou traitor to thy closest friends,—
Carer but for thine own vile ends!”
“Nay! rate him not!” said Sumner; “he,
As I, was then too blind to see
There was in Cuba any war.”
And Stanton: “Yet that goeth, far
Beyond your help or his; that fight
Ends with the triumph of the Right,
When Spain is foil'd and Cuba free.
But what has Right to do with thee?”
So turn'd their backs, the three, nor deign'd
Mix words with me while I remain'd.
From whom, then, should I learn if these
Refused me? On my bended knees,
Stiff as I am, I fell. “Return!”
I cried, “O friends! old friends! nor spurn
Ulysses thus.” But Rawling brook'd
No further notice; Sumner look'd
Over his shoulder. So they went,
Like hasting stars i' the firmament,
Giving no answer to my quest.
Where else should my inquiry rest?
I look'd, yet kneeling. By there came
That gang whom decent men ne'er name
Without due loathing of their greed:
I knew the burly form of Tweed,
Sweeny, and Connolly; and they
Knew me, and spat, and moved away
As from a viler criminal, worse
Than the mere filcher of a purse.
Then Johnson pass'd; and, passing, lifts
His downcast eyes: “I would no gifts,
Nor stole.” But Fisk came up and took
My hand, and, with a kinder look,—
“Cheer up, old man! You've had your play;
Get off your knees and come away!”
More humbled yet, I kneeling stay'd;
When lo, a melancholy shade,
One taller than the noble three,
Yet loftier in his majesty,
Of form rough-hewn, nor smooth in face,
But wistful-eyed, with solemn pace
Approach'd me trembling, with my doom,
A requiem o'er my living tomb
Pronounced in memorable words:
“O wretch! 'gainst whom, like sharpen'd swords,
The thoughts of honest men are held,—
Thou who hadst power, if will, to have quell'd
Corruption, as the open foe
By thee was conquer'd,—thou below
Advice or help hast placed thyself!
Fool! bribed by Shame with vulgar pelf,
Hence, nor pollute the neighborhood
Of aught that 's honest, brave, or good!
What term, twice tried, remains for thee?
Only the term of Infamy!”
He spoke, and left me to dismay.
How came I back to upper day?
Was it a dream, or not? Methought
I went there where the souls are brought
Of heroes buried and unburied;
Then, o'er the stream by Charon ferried,
I pass'd the Triple-headed Dog.
Three heads—three terms—I said: the fog
Got in my head. When I recover'd
I stood among the crowd that hover'd
Alongside Acheron,—not yet damn'd,
Nor yet Elysian,—somewhat jamm'd,
16
To shake hands ere I stept inside:
Post-traders, other 'custom'd thieves,
Shame-swallowers from the White House eaves,
Dealers in seal-skins from Alaska,
'Frisco distillers; it would task a
Life to catalogue the lot
Of patriot parasites. God wot,
More vermin Ercles had not won
By small-tooth-combing Washington,
The District given in,—the whole
At Babcock measure, free from toll!
They hustled me, pull'd me about,
And would perforce have kept me out
In spite of all my force of will,
So popular I found me still;
Nay! rather with me 'd enter Hell
Than lose my friendly last farewell.
But I had business in view,
So shied affection, and broke through.
To speak of Tartarus, breadth and length,
'S beyond my conversational strength:
Enough, 't was crowded too, and hot,
Unpleasantly; I soon had got
Over the fence into the Fields,
But a close row of red-hot shields,
With regular red-hot spears above,
Hotly forbade that cool remove.
And else 't was from the souls in bale
That I must learn what might avail
For future guidance. So I stay'd,
As coolly as I could, afraid
But imperturbable, my wont;
And stolidly set my face t' affront
17
To outstare me. How shall I begin
My tale o' the immaterial hosts,
Not dim but bodiless, of ghosts—
Like forms of paraffine full-blown
In a way to mediums not unknown—
Meeting my sight,—mere bubbles, all
Transparent, hypocritical?
I rank them only as they burst
Upon my gaze. Boss Shepherd first;
And then weird-looking Schenck; and him
Lackeying, a silly man too slim
Almost for seeing; there I knew
My o'er-vile brother; Father, too—
Respected shade; and all the Dents,
Of general or particular bents;
And Sharp; and nameless rel'tives; Red
Ingalls; and Honoré,—my Fred
Was with him, and our own judge Stone;
Some other judges I could own;
Harrington; Hastings; Elkins; Hatch;
Jim Casey, whom I tried to catch,
But, using Billings as a blind,
He slipp'd that shade o' fraud behind:
All these I saw; yet look'd around
For others I had gladly found.
Most miss'd I him, my Brave of Braves,
Who ranged our soldiers in their graves,
And, mindful of an ancient rite,
Entomb'd their mules beside them. Sight
Of him was granted me at last,
Stuck in a marsh, stuck soft and fast,
To the throat in dirt, and hot (I tried—
Poor Belknap); and his head beside
18
The advocate Ward Beecher got,
Not Noah, but Horace,—my own man;
Stewart; and Williams, playing fan
For Chandler; Sargent; Logan; Blaine;
Creswell, in straw; and then a train—
No need to mention names of all—
As if o' the House had been a call—
Of Congressmen and Senators:
All these met me; but not one stirs
A tongue—perhaps too dry—to say
If I should follow our old lay,—
A lay which I began to doubt;
Though 't was n't bad before found out.
'T was clear from them naught would be learn'd
For my behoof. But I discern'd
Dimly, upon the other side,
Three forms, which noting, I descried
As old-time friends. And as each nears
The hot confine, across the spears
He leans—that did not seem to burn,
As intimating I should turn
And list his meditated speech.
Haughty yet sad the look of each,
As condescending to the task
Of answering what my thoughts but ask.
Stanton was one, with brow severe;
And Rawling, formerly so dear,
Pale and attenuate as when
He left me,—left both sword and pen;
The third was Sumner, grand of port.
I wish'd to speak; but they cut short
My greetings, and their hands withdrew.
Then Rawling spoke, the while he threw
19
Thy promise pledged to me? thou Sot!
Thou traitor to thy closest friends,—
Carer but for thine own vile ends!”
“Nay! rate him not!” said Sumner; “he,
As I, was then too blind to see
There was in Cuba any war.”
And Stanton: “Yet that goeth, far
Beyond your help or his; that fight
Ends with the triumph of the Right,
When Spain is foil'd and Cuba free.
But what has Right to do with thee?”
So turn'd their backs, the three, nor deign'd
Mix words with me while I remain'd.
From whom, then, should I learn if these
Refused me? On my bended knees,
Stiff as I am, I fell. “Return!”
I cried, “O friends! old friends! nor spurn
Ulysses thus.” But Rawling brook'd
No further notice; Sumner look'd
Over his shoulder. So they went,
Like hasting stars i' the firmament,
Giving no answer to my quest.
Where else should my inquiry rest?
I look'd, yet kneeling. By there came
That gang whom decent men ne'er name
Without due loathing of their greed:
I knew the burly form of Tweed,
Sweeny, and Connolly; and they
Knew me, and spat, and moved away
As from a viler criminal, worse
Than the mere filcher of a purse.
Then Johnson pass'd; and, passing, lifts
His downcast eyes: “I would no gifts,
20
My hand, and, with a kinder look,—
“Cheer up, old man! You've had your play;
Get off your knees and come away!”
More humbled yet, I kneeling stay'd;
When lo, a melancholy shade,
One taller than the noble three,
Yet loftier in his majesty,
Of form rough-hewn, nor smooth in face,
But wistful-eyed, with solemn pace
Approach'd me trembling, with my doom,
A requiem o'er my living tomb
Pronounced in memorable words:
“O wretch! 'gainst whom, like sharpen'd swords,
The thoughts of honest men are held,—
Thou who hadst power, if will, to have quell'd
Corruption, as the open foe
By thee was conquer'd,—thou below
Advice or help hast placed thyself!
Fool! bribed by Shame with vulgar pelf,
Hence, nor pollute the neighborhood
Of aught that 's honest, brave, or good!
What term, twice tried, remains for thee?
Only the term of Infamy!”
He spoke, and left me to dismay.
How came I back to upper day?
Just then the Ingalls watch struck two.
So late—Ulysses thought; but knew
He could not trust the time it kept.
Enough! Again Alcineus slept.
So late—Ulysses thought; but knew
He could not trust the time it kept.
Enough! Again Alcineus slept.
21
BOOK THE FOURTH
THE ARGUMENT
He will not heed, nor heareth, oneOf the fair Sirens three;
Steals beef; and stricken by the Sun
Falls ignominiously.
Once more—his listener looking bored—
Ulyss' pursueth his record.
Ulyss' pursueth his record.
Would I had hearken'd as I pass'd
The Sirens by; but I was fast
By my own order, and my ears
Stopp'd: for I reckon'd him who hears
Such argument divine unfit
To achieve Corruption. With the bit
Between the teeth of virtuous will,
He might go straightly on until
His death. The speculation 's grave.
Did I not once my country save?
Now 't is my president right to spend.
Thereafter—but who minds the end?
So seem'd it to my meaner thought;
My other genius utter'd naught
To lead me. I was drunk with lust
Of power and faithless to my trust,
So cared not God or men to hear;
But mine own course resolved to steer,
Self-will'd, and ignorant as most.
I bade them bind me to the post
Midships; and ear-dull'd, so sped by
The Sirens' holy harmony.
This was their Song: so I was told
By the boatswain,—he dared make so bold.
First sang the Youngest of the Three:
“O Wise Man! HONOR calls to thee.
True soldier, whom the lands admired,
What else but Honor thee inspired?
Thou wilt have thought for reverend years.
The heritage that most endears
A father's memory, his claim
To entry on the roll of Fame,
Thou wilt provide to leave thy seed;
And in thy pride stand fast indeed,
Of sturdy sires the stalwart son,
To bear the heroic legend on!”
The Second sang: “Receive from me
The high demands of PROBITY!
Thy Country's trust, thy plighted word,
Both make Fidelity thy lord,
In whose dear service thou shalt be
Named good for thy integrity;
Nor other wealth desire or take,
For simple Probity's own sake!”
The Eldest last invoked a strain;
Heaven heard, and echoed back again:—
“The Powers that gave thee power command
A full surrender at thy hand;
Requiring thee in the name of Power
To guard the right, to lead the hour
From darkness into hoped-for light;
And summon thee with all thy might
To stand upon the broad highway
Of Order, so that all obey
The Eternal Law; so shalt thou shine
Hereafter, star-like and divine,
A beacon unto future days,
To guide men on RELIGION's ways.”
And then in chorus sang the Three,
How Honor, Truth, and Faith agree,
And with a triple chord uphold
Their lover, with wealth more than gold
Endowing him. Ah me! in vain
That music—lost, ne'er heard again.
Deaf! deaf! I would not heed their cry,
But wrapp'd in hide of self pass'd by.
My record 's drawing to a close.
(He saw the King began to doze.)
It was not I who stole the cows
And oxen. But whoso allows,
With power to hinder, does the wrong.
Would I had heard the Sirens' Song!
Too late! too late! That Indian beef,
Least of my thefts, brought me to grief.
Those poor post-trade-ships,—Oervile's share,
So small too, and—I would not care
So much for it, but—
The Sirens by; but I was fast
By my own order, and my ears
Stopp'd: for I reckon'd him who hears
Such argument divine unfit
To achieve Corruption. With the bit
Between the teeth of virtuous will,
He might go straightly on until
His death. The speculation 's grave.
Did I not once my country save?
Now 't is my president right to spend.
Thereafter—but who minds the end?
So seem'd it to my meaner thought;
My other genius utter'd naught
To lead me. I was drunk with lust
Of power and faithless to my trust,
So cared not God or men to hear;
22
Self-will'd, and ignorant as most.
I bade them bind me to the post
Midships; and ear-dull'd, so sped by
The Sirens' holy harmony.
This was their Song: so I was told
By the boatswain,—he dared make so bold.
First sang the Youngest of the Three:
“O Wise Man! HONOR calls to thee.
True soldier, whom the lands admired,
What else but Honor thee inspired?
Thou wilt have thought for reverend years.
The heritage that most endears
A father's memory, his claim
To entry on the roll of Fame,
Thou wilt provide to leave thy seed;
And in thy pride stand fast indeed,
Of sturdy sires the stalwart son,
To bear the heroic legend on!”
The Second sang: “Receive from me
The high demands of PROBITY!
Thy Country's trust, thy plighted word,
Both make Fidelity thy lord,
In whose dear service thou shalt be
Named good for thy integrity;
Nor other wealth desire or take,
For simple Probity's own sake!”
The Eldest last invoked a strain;
Heaven heard, and echoed back again:—
“The Powers that gave thee power command
A full surrender at thy hand;
Requiring thee in the name of Power
23
From darkness into hoped-for light;
And summon thee with all thy might
To stand upon the broad highway
Of Order, so that all obey
The Eternal Law; so shalt thou shine
Hereafter, star-like and divine,
A beacon unto future days,
To guide men on RELIGION's ways.”
And then in chorus sang the Three,
How Honor, Truth, and Faith agree,
And with a triple chord uphold
Their lover, with wealth more than gold
Endowing him. Ah me! in vain
That music—lost, ne'er heard again.
Deaf! deaf! I would not heed their cry,
But wrapp'd in hide of self pass'd by.
My record 's drawing to a close.
(He saw the King began to doze.)
It was not I who stole the cows
And oxen. But whoso allows,
With power to hinder, does the wrong.
Would I had heard the Sirens' Song!
Too late! too late! That Indian beef,
Least of my thefts, brought me to grief.
Those poor post-trade-ships,—Oervile's share,
So small too, and—I would not care
So much for it, but—
Here the Muse
Takes up Ulysses' tale. The news
Of what next happ'd to Truth belongs
And History. He gave the thongs
That bound the cattle of the Sun,
Whose Indian children so were done
Out of their dinners. Unespied's
The theft, thought he, and safe our hides!
He ate the beef, and, crafty man!
Conceal'd the skins, and meant to tan
The same, when to his home return'd
In far Galena. Hotly burn'd
Apollo's wrath. In radiant prime
Forth issuing, the hidden crime
He saw. Swift from the golden edge
Of his cloud-chariot flew a wedge
Of sunlight through the felon's brain.
Transfix'd, he fell. There leave him, slain;
And let the Shades receive his ghost
Unmourn'd!
Takes up Ulysses' tale. The news
Of what next happ'd to Truth belongs
And History. He gave the thongs
That bound the cattle of the Sun,
Whose Indian children so were done
24
The theft, thought he, and safe our hides!
He ate the beef, and, crafty man!
Conceal'd the skins, and meant to tan
The same, when to his home return'd
In far Galena. Hotly burn'd
Apollo's wrath. In radiant prime
Forth issuing, the hidden crime
He saw. Swift from the golden edge
Of his cloud-chariot flew a wedge
Of sunlight through the felon's brain.
Transfix'd, he fell. There leave him, slain;
And let the Shades receive his ghost
Unmourn'd!
In Bryant's Evening Post
Look for, beneath the Obit head,
U. G---t!
Look for, beneath the Obit head,
U. G---t!
And so Ulysses sped.
AUGIES AND ALLSIDES
AUGIES the monarch's name was, who his stableKept in a state so foul that all unable
Were the beasts to be upright in 't: so the Gods
Sent to their aid ALLSIDÉS, who, at odds
With all things dirty, took him a new Broom
And swept the stable clean. Heaven send us such a groom!
A. R.
| The American Odyssey | |