 | Poems |  |
WHEN JOVE THIS EARTH CREATED.
When Jove this earth created,
Beneath, it lay so fair,
With love his heart dilated
For all things breathing there;
As o'er its beauty wander'd
His eyes, what more to give,
The mighty Thunderer ponder'd,
What joys to all that live.
“Delight be yours!” he mutter'd,
“And, joy, all joys above,”
This, too, the Thunderer utter'd,
“O mortals, yours be love!”
Beneath, it lay so fair,
With love his heart dilated
For all things breathing there;
As o'er its beauty wander'd
His eyes, what more to give,
The mighty Thunderer ponder'd,
What joys to all that live.
“Delight be yours!” he mutter'd,
“And, joy, all joys above,”
This, too, the Thunderer utter'd,
“O mortals, yours be love!”
On golden thrones high-seated,
The Gods the Thunderer heard,
And straight their murmurs greeted
Such bliss on man conferr'd.
“If, as to Gods, to mortals
“Love's mighty joys be given,
“Throw wide to man heaven's portals,
“For earth's as blest as heaven!”
So, wroth, the Olympians mutter'd;
So murmur'd all above;
The while the Thunderer utter'd,
“O mortals, yours be love!”
The Gods the Thunderer heard,
And straight their murmurs greeted
Such bliss on man conferr'd.
“If, as to Gods, to mortals
“Love's mighty joys be given,
“Throw wide to man heaven's portals,
“For earth's as blest as heaven!”
So, wroth, the Olympians mutter'd;
So murmur'd all above;
The while the Thunderer utter'd,
“O mortals, yours be love!”
Then Jove, the murmurs hearing
Such bliss for mortals caused,
Olympus' anger fearing,
A while, deep-thinking, paused:
“Yes—earth indeed were heaven
“If love undimm'd it knew;
“Be love to mortals given!
“But theirs be sorrow too!
“Take, mortals, take this treasure
“Of bliss, all bliss above!
“But, sorrow link'd to pleasure,
“Still grief be yours with love!”
Such bliss for mortals caused,
Olympus' anger fearing,
A while, deep-thinking, paused:
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“If love undimm'd it knew;
“Be love to mortals given!
“But theirs be sorrow too!
“Take, mortals, take this treasure
“Of bliss, all bliss above!
“But, sorrow link'd to pleasure,
“Still grief be yours with love!”
So, sweet, love's priceless pleasure
Is only bought with fears;
Yet who'd not win the treasure
Of such delight with tears?
No—not to miss all sorrow,
Would I such bliss resign.
Sweet, come what will to-morrow,
To-day, shall love be mine;
And passion's sweet hours living,
We'll bless the powers above,
Who, sorrow to us giving,
Still bless us, sweet, with love.
Is only bought with fears;
Yet who'd not win the treasure
Of such delight with tears?
No—not to miss all sorrow,
Would I such bliss resign.
Sweet, come what will to-morrow,
To-day, shall love be mine;
And passion's sweet hours living,
We'll bless the powers above,
Who, sorrow to us giving,
Still bless us, sweet, with love.
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