University of Virginia Library

Unwelcome fell the golden gleams of dawn
On Ariadne's eyes, who all night long
In empty aching darkness wildered lay,
Unvisited by any gentle Power
From the dim land of Dream, but when she pressed
Downward her weary face, a surging cloud
Rusht spangling up, and, imaged on the gloom,
Pale faces crowded, prophesying woe.

Soon risen and soon attired, the Princess left
Her cedarn chamber; and thro' corridors
Far glimmering, and thro' halls of jasper past,
To where the unfolded sculptured palace-gates
Fronted the kindling day: nor lingered there,
But onward through the unfolded portals past,
Yet saw no sight and heard not any sound,
Like some pale Sibyl, pondering thoughts of doom,
Which sleep not tho' she sleeps, but drive her forth
To rave on lonely hills at dead of night.
Thro' marble-mansioned streets the Princess past,
Thro' templed squares, and piles of carvèd stone,
Which, veiled in silver breathings of the Morn,
Rose like the work of Gods; such perfect skill
Clothed the wise hand of mighty Dædalus.
On, by the homes of men the Princess past,
By porch or mart or pillar'd portico,
That served the statelier uses of the land,
Till, all the slumbering city left behind,
A valley held her in the bosoming depth
And silence of green shade. The dripping leaves
Hung diamonds in the round and Orient sun,
And the pure air and chiming coverts rang
With voices of glad birds that love the light.

Here late, mid sheltering trees, a Temple stood
Sacred to Bacchus, and, some here, some there,
Huge fragments of white marble yet lay round,
Where one sole pillar with young ivy wreathed,
And with thick garlands of the budding vine,
Fresh from some pious hand, still central rose.
Here paus'd the Princess, and, half-kneeling, leant
Against the pillar, and with low-wailing words,
Told all her sorrows to the elements.
“Hear me, O Heaven, and all-beholding Sun!
“And hear me, mother Earth, who am thy child!
“And bring again those dear remembered years—
“Those old delightful years, when I beheld
“No cloud in all the firmament of life
“That lacked its rainbow;—when I touched no thorn,
“But had its flower hid among glittering leaves,
“And sweeter so conceal'd; when all my thoughts
“Took warmth and colour from the gleams that fell
“From some far-vision'd world: and where I mov'd,
“A silent Presence that I could not see
“Was with me as the light on blind men's eyes,
“Touch'd by the radiant finger of the sun,
“Pointing at noon; and when, with mellower hours
“Life's summer came, I wanted no delight
“That love can give, for dim sweet longings rose
“Like odorous meadow-airs, and eve and morn
“Came thoughts more beautiful than any birds,
“And sang to me. But that was long ago,
“In some old yesterday which ne'er returns.
“Oh, why was I left desolate?—Oh, why
“Did the mad fire pass thro' my heart and brain?
“I call on Earth and Heaven, from Sun and Sea
“Implore an answer; but my sorrow broods
“Over the Universe, and makes it dumb.”

So moaned she; but a footstep on the grass
Gave token of one coming, and ere long
Came Phædra, with the balm of healing words.

“Turn not from me, O sister! O beloved!
“But let me hold thy hand, and holding mine,
“Walk by my side when Sorrow walks with thee.”
“Phædra!” cried Ariadne, “on my heart
“Sits Grief, like heavy winds on summer grass
“Drowned in the trampling rain.” And Phædra said,
“When heavy winds are still the grass revives,
“Grief comes and goes, and dwells not anywhere;
“And ever when grief passes joy returns.”
“Joy!” cried the impatient Princess,-“what is joy?
“I tell you there is no such thing as joy,
“Nor is there hope, or love, or beauty more.
“Theseus is dead, or, worse than dead, is false.”
Then Phædra answered not, but took her hand,
And led her onward slowly, tenderly
To the great ocean, as a mother leads
A timid child, and lends both voice and hand.

Fresh blew the wind of morn, the ascending sun
Stood on the waters, round his golden limbs
Folding the purple light, and garlanding
His radiant brows with roses of the dawn.
“Here rest we,” Phædra cried, “while round us breathe
“The soft sea-winds, and watch the rise of Day.”
Then Ariadne, throned upon a rock,
Looked with fixed eye athwart the whitening wave
To the blue rim where sky and water mix,
Scarce knowing that she looked, for her vexed mind,
In the wild mazes of its blinding grief,
Still feeling here and there, as one that feels
With spreading palms his way along the dark,
Moved helplessly. But when the sweet surprise
Of sleep o'ercame her, Phædra gently rose,
And wandered, kissing her pale lips and eyes,
Among the rocks that sunned their patriarch brows
In the young smiles of the rejoicing day.
But leave we Phædra, to pursue alone
O'er sand and cliff her labyrinthine path,
For we approach the shining goals of song.

The Princess slept, and, lighting all her sleep,
A vision came, and tender luminous rings
Crept o'er her fair pale face. Nor marvel thou
At this new dawn of joy, for near her knelt
The loveliest Shape that ever dreamer saw,
At noon or night. Immortal, beautiful,
As are the children of the sky, she seemed,
And pity looking thro' her loving eyes
Showed her no less a Goddess. Nearer now,
And nearer drawing where the sleeper lay,
She, as a mother o'er her cradled child,
Kneels—smiling to behold it smile in sleep—
Knelt o'er that dreaming form, and cried, “Awake!”
And kissed her as she cried. Even as she spoke,
The delicate sleep fell from her opening eyes,
And like to one long laid in feverish trance,
While hurrying months have past and seemed one day,
And who, when Gods have wrought a sudden cure,
Leaps from his couch, and wonderingly beholds
The true appearances of men and things,
Awakened Ariadne. Soon she saw
The Eternal Loveliness, and wonder rose
To worship, and her thoughts thus leapt to speech;
“Now first I know what love, what nobleness,
“What tender feelings clothe our mortal life,
“As violets clothe the roots of hoary trees
“In April, when the swallows call the spring.
“I was a dreamer once that dwelt alone
“Or wandered thro' the blighted woods of life,
“As some lost child, belated in his play,
“Lingers thro' lengthening fields and winding lanes,
“And sobs and calls his mates; but now I wear
“The delicate white garments of delight
“That are for happy women, whom the gods
“Make happier with the love of happy men.
“Henceforth, fair mother of the universe,
“I shall not live the life of trees and flowers,
“And toil and grieve as other women do,
“In the bare desert of humanity;
“For is there not a world where music dwells
“With love? a world, soft gleams of whose blue heaven
“Thrill gentle souls with dim delicious hopes,
“Till pleasure smiling trembles into tears.”

The Goddess answered: “Such a world there is,
“And I by all my lovely ministers
“In sun and cloud, calm lake and sylvan gloom,
“Have led thee upward to the golden realms,
“Where dwell with Power the Joys that cannot die.
“But now, fair Sister, in my magic car
“Mount, and across the sea-waves fly with me,
“To Naxos, which the Fatal Queens that spin
“The lives of men have chosen for this end.”

Uranian Aphrodite speaking thus,
Raised her light wand, and from a golden cloud
The magic car ran down the slanting winds,
With gradual motion. Shrined within the car,
The Goddess and the godlike woman rose,
With wave of wand, and as the Isle drew near,
Guiding her Birds down purple slopes of air,
The Goddess sought the shore. Wild, shelterless,
Barren, and desolate the island lay.
With moaning sound the waves, sluggish and green,
Plunged over slippery rocks; one here, one there,
Dwarf-featured trees, or images of trees,
Crouched on the shore, wind-pinched and weather-charred,
And ever mid their rattling skeletons
Crept a low wailing wind with human tone,
While over all, and magnifying all,
Rolled seaward, like a sea, a yellow mist.
Thither the fairest of the Olympians came,
And with soft words upon their downward path,
Cheering her coursers with the silver wings
Approached that dreadful shore, and pausing there.
On a grey heap of withered leaves threw out
The exulting traveller of ethereal realms,
Then vanished, while her eyes were dim with fear.
But soon the Princess rose and felt her way
Thro' the thick surges of the yellow mist,
And wept, and prayed, and called aloud for help,
Where help seemed none. Before her was the sea.
The cold unfeeling sea that bore away
Her fair false Theseus with the smiling eyes;
Behind her, death. Now, on a rock she stood,
And clasping both her hands she prayed, yet prayed
As one who feels the Gods thrust back his prayer.
“Hear me, O Zeus! and thou, Uranian Queen!
“Hear me, and give me some pale gleam of hope,
“To silver the dark forest of my life.
“O God! O Goddess! 't is a fearful thing
“Thus to have fallen from my tower of stars,
“Down, down, into the empty darkness down.”

She spoke; but thro' the island hoarsely rang
A peal of mocking laughter, and her words
Caught up, like voices in resounding caves,
Beat wildly back upon her throbbing ears.
Then came the night, and the blind darkness reached
From earth to heaven, and all the lower air
Swarmed with a thousand ghastly lineaments
Of shadowy faces, fading as they grew,
While far off in the mist a wailing cry,
A feeble cry for help, most like her own,
Perplexed her with a thousand changing thoughts
Of crimes unknown, and a dim drowning sense
Of some great loss that yet in shadow lies.
Then silence followed, till, far out at sea,
Amid the moaning waves, a tempest rose,
And marshalled the rude wrestling elements
With shout and call incessant; high o'er all
The echoing thunder rolled, and the rent heaven
Burned with the scarlet flames that scored the clouds.
Along the ground, that where the Princess lay
Fallen before the storm, rocked to and fro
As the wild earthquake passed, dark fiery shapes
Glared, mocking her, and threatening hands were raised,
And rushing wings and falling waves were heard.
Then while the fear grew large about her heart,
She strong thro' humblest patience, wept, and said:
“I am a woman whom false Hope misled,
“Until she heard immortal lips proclaim
“Her entrance to the skies, and dared to lift
“Her impious thoughts up to the lofty stars.
“Henceforth I will be sad as others are,
“And lowly with a human lowliness;
“Delight and love are for the Gods alone,
“And men need nothing but to grieve and die.”
She ended; and a soft and winding stream
Of music flowed among the purple hills,
With echo answering echo, for the calm
Seemed crystal-clear, as in the windless days,
When Autumn dyes the woodlands red and gold,
And men stand mute and count the falling leaves,
And where of late the blindfold darkness crouched,
Imperial day now sent exploring eyes
To scare the yellow mist that seaward rolled,
Touched with bright colours from the emerging sun,
Until, far out upon the level waves,
A rainbow stood, and stately vessels sailed
Beneath its arch, and men with wondering eyes
Praised the glad circle growing on the cloud.

While Ariadne in the brightness stood
Smiling amid her tears, far far away
In the blue hollows of the silent hills
The Echoes caught the sounds of revelry,
And lo! from heights that disappear in clouds,
Stream down the mystic mountain, slope by slope,
The Bacchanals with Bacchus at their head.

Now smiles the sea, and all the island smiles,
Delighted, and sends forth the lovely life
Of her maternal heart in sudden growth
Of rose and lily, while ethereal trees
That light their emerald leaves with scarlet fruits,
Hang o'er pellucid waves or lean athwart
Romantic gorges crammed with purple glooms.

Nor this alone, but Life takes rarer forms,
Shapes ruby-eyed, with blue and emerald wings,
Glitter and flutter round, and gentle beasts,
Black-spotted, silver-striped, or crimson-barred,
Play harmless, or in waves of shadowing grass
Luxurious dive.

But when the noisier pomp
Beneath the hill had plung'd, a maiden band,
Star-crowned, and robed in subtlest gossamer,
As white as is a snowy April cloud
That journeys all the day thro' marble skies,
Stood near the Princess, and in words like song
Murmured one name she knew, and so retired.

Then Ariadne knelt, and where the earth
Breathed from her beating heart the warm delight,
And kindled with a silver-sobbing rain,
That fell invisible, the life of flowers,
She prayed, and all the gods beheld her pray,
And chiefly one that, like the firmament,
Bent o'er her, crowned with a great night of stars,
And robed in shadows that, with wavering lights,
Still mixed and intermixed, as thus he cried:
“O dear to all the gods! thy sceptre claim,
“And over mortals and immortals rule
“By love and beauty, for all gentle things
“Are strongest, and all work in beauty ends,
“All life in love.” He ceased, but as he stood
Fronting the yellow sands, strewn with the snow
Of flying foam, he pointed to the sea.
The Princess looked. An amorous summer wind
Dropped on its breast and whirled the glassy waves
In dimpling eddies round, till, rising slow
Thro' their blue depth, a wondrous shell appeared
Æthereal, ample; whose serene concave
Was coloured like to fading sunset skies.
Within the shell, as in some airy bower
Built by the twilight winds of rosy cloud
On the pale confines of the morn and eve,
Stood, mid the silvery children of the sea,
Uranian Aphrodite. Round her breathed
All dulcet instruments invisible;
Or were they magic birds that filled the air
With liquid sweetness, that but came to sing
This one great sunset down, and never more
Were heard by mortal ear?

So o'er the waves,
Borne in her ocean-throne, was piloted
The eternal Love. But when she touched the shore,
And the white daughters of the wandering foam
Closed round her, as around the moon the stars,
Slow sank the wondrous boat amid the coil
Of waters warbling with a flute-like sound,
Down to the silent cities of the sea.
Then to that mightier splendour, as he stood
By Ariadne, came the Immortal Queen,
Veiled in the glow of her own loveliness.
And thus she cried: “Welcome, fair sister mine!
“For thou art worthy of that gentle name,
“Who, now a queen with me, hast found thy king.
“Ascend thy throne, and, crowned with endless power,
“Shape the fair human race to lovelier life.
“Ay, lead thou man, while stately music calls,
“Down war's red furrows, and with myrtle blend
“The laurel shadowing his victorious brows,
“Till the majestic Peace that poets sing
“Shall come, tho' long delayed, and nobler arts
“Shall lift a goodlier world to purer heights
“Of glory, making pale the heroic deeds
“Of men that stand up, tall and beautiful,
“In the fierce light of swords; in that great day,
“When Power shall champion Right, and man shall dwell
“Harmonious, free, and over all shall shine
“Love, the imperial star that never sets.”
She ended; and the Father of all life
Smote the rejoicing earth, and soon appeared
Millions of radiant creatures, some with wings
Æthereal, rainbow-dyed, which, as they soar'd,
Spread twinkling in the sun, and some that stood
With massive plumes, uplifted as for flight.
Now rose the chariot-throne, slowly upborne
By the ascending winds, and in it rose
The God, who is the life of all that love,
The Goddess, the sole grace of all that love,
The Godlike Woman loving all that love.

Meanwhile, to greet the dazzling host that stream'd
Upward and onwards through the brightening air,
Gold clarions with a long melodious breath,
Sang triumph, and in shadowy outline seen,
Bright heads with garlands look'd thro' glittering clouds,
And calm glad faces, rising endlessly,
Throng'd all the heaven with beauty. Onward still
The lengthening splendour flow'd and reacht the stars,
Upward and onward, till beyond the stars,
The sapphire gates which guard Olympus roll'd
On amethystine hinges, by no hand
Divine or mortal touched, for life and will
Were in them, and they open'd, leading down
Thro' a great brightness to the sacred towers
And golden mansions where the Gods abide,
In joy and glory; nor ambrosia fails,
Nor nectar for the feast, nor for the dance
Fails ever lyre or song, but Muse and Grace
Still mix their lovely shadows as they glide
Mirrored in the still Heaven's transparent floor.

Now fainter shone that far-off company,
Entering thro' sapphire gates, but when the light
Of its long march had faded from the clouds,
The magic portals, closing fold on fold,
Hid Grace and Muse, still eddying in the dance;
Hid God and Goddess, feasting on their thrones;
Hid all the golden bowers of their delight.
Then Darkness fell, but thro' the purple gloom
Shone on the sparkling forehead of the night,
A silver wreath, whose burning letters told
How Ariadne crown'd by deathless hands,
Sate mid the stars, on a celestial throne,
And wore that starry wreath for diadem.

That night on many a wondering eye in Crete
The golden glory shone; and one there was
Who, gazing from a rock that touched the shore,
Beheld and understood and thank'd the Gods—
Phædra, who with slow steps went musing home.