Master and Scholar etc. etc. By E. H. Plumptre: Second edition with notes |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
EUMENIDES. |
|
| I. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| II. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 2. |
| III. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
 | Master and Scholar |  |
148
EUMENIDES.
Weird shapes of fear and dread,
With shadowy wings outspread,
On felon footsteps following sure and swift;
Fierce eyes that wildly glance,
Like lightning flames, askance,
Through the thick darkness where the storm-clouds drift.
With shadowy wings outspread,
On felon footsteps following sure and swift;
Fierce eyes that wildly glance,
Like lightning flames, askance,
Through the thick darkness where the storm-clouds drift.
Harsh voice of fearful power,
In midnight's silent hour
Waking sad echoes of departed times;
Recalling hate and greed,
The thought, the word, the deed,
Youth's maddening joy and manhood's darker crimes.
In midnight's silent hour
Waking sad echoes of departed times;
Recalling hate and greed,
The thought, the word, the deed,
Youth's maddening joy and manhood's darker crimes.
O'er rivers flowing fast,
O'er mountains hoar and vast,
Chasing their victim with a blood-hound's bay,
Their keen, unearthly yell,
Of hope and joy the knell,
Startles the trembler crouching far away.
O'er mountains hoar and vast,
Chasing their victim with a blood-hound's bay,
Their keen, unearthly yell,
Of hope and joy the knell,
Startles the trembler crouching far away.
149
For ever on his track,
For ever at his back,
Their long gaunt fingers clutch his mantle's hem;
Vain is the sevenfold shield,
Vain are the swords men wield,
Vain purple robe, and kingly diadem.
For ever at his back,
Their long gaunt fingers clutch his mantle's hem;
Vain is the sevenfold shield,
Vain are the swords men wield,
Vain purple robe, and kingly diadem.
In festive hall, or bower,
In mirth's exulting hour,
The spectral sisters meet his shuddering eye:
When solemn music clear,
Falls softly on his ear;
Alone, or when the gathering throng sweeps by.
In mirth's exulting hour,
The spectral sisters meet his shuddering eye:
When solemn music clear,
Falls softly on his ear;
Alone, or when the gathering throng sweeps by.
Can man no secret find,
Their dark, dread power to bind,
And lull their fury to perpetual sleep?
Or must he ever bear
The weight of chill despair,
While still their watch the stern Erinnyes keep?
Their dark, dread power to bind,
And lull their fury to perpetual sleep?
Or must he ever bear
The weight of chill despair,
While still their watch the stern Erinnyes keep?
Yes, seers and sages old,
The mystic rites have told,
That fixed, avenging purpose to appease;
Man, meekly bending low,
Accepting all his woe,
May find the anguish soften into peace.
The mystic rites have told,
That fixed, avenging purpose to appease;
Man, meekly bending low,
Accepting all his woe,
May find the anguish soften into peace.
150
First, let him take his stand,
Green boughs in either hand,
Where from the rock the living water flows;
The pure libation pour,
The awful Powers adore,
Then turn to where the dark rich laurel grows.
Green boughs in either hand,
Where from the rock the living water flows;
The pure libation pour,
The awful Powers adore,
Then turn to where the dark rich laurel grows.
There slowly through the shade
Of each o'erarching glade,
With trembling footsteps let him seek the shrine;
Then, bending low, confess
Their power to curse or bless,
Himself all vile, their justice all divine.
Of each o'erarching glade,
With trembling footsteps let him seek the shrine;
Then, bending low, confess
Their power to curse or bless,
Himself all vile, their justice all divine.
No purpling wine-cup there
Must taint the clear, calm air,
Though glowing clusters darken all the earth;
No pæan loud and long
Must wake exulting song,
No revel wild and free wake shouts of mirth.
Must taint the clear, calm air,
Though glowing clusters darken all the earth;
No pæan loud and long
Must wake exulting song,
No revel wild and free wake shouts of mirth.
But cries of grief and prayer,
One note above despair,
And eyes still fixed upon the judgment throne;
The slow retreating tread,
The memories of the dead,
The heart that fain would all the past atone.
One note above despair,
And eyes still fixed upon the judgment throne;
The slow retreating tread,
The memories of the dead,
The heart that fain would all the past atone.
151
So, as the suppliant kneels,
A wondrous calmness steals
O'er those dread faces gleaming through the grove;
Gone is the angry frown,
The avenging hands hang down,
The Wrath divine is melting into Love.
A wondrous calmness steals
O'er those dread faces gleaming through the grove;
Gone is the angry frown,
The avenging hands hang down,
The Wrath divine is melting into Love.
The voice for vengeance loud,
The thunder from the cloud,
Melt into murmurs of a distant sea,
When zephyrs soft and low,
Beneath the sunset's glow,
Wake in each wave its voice of minstrelsy.
The thunder from the cloud,
Melt into murmurs of a distant sea,
When zephyrs soft and low,
Beneath the sunset's glow,
Wake in each wave its voice of minstrelsy.
The eyes that flashed with fire,
Rebuking foul desire,
Are grave and pitying with a milder light;
They watch and they approve
The sorrow and the love
Which guide the wanderer's footsteps through the night.
Rebuking foul desire,
Are grave and pitying with a milder light;
They watch and they approve
The sorrow and the love
Which guide the wanderer's footsteps through the night.
So, evermore the same,
They change their mood and name,
No more the dread Erinnyes, sound of fear;
Eumenides, the kind,
The gentle ones in mind,
They smooth the brow, and wipe away the tear.
They change their mood and name,
No more the dread Erinnyes, sound of fear;
Eumenides, the kind,
The gentle ones in mind,
They smooth the brow, and wipe away the tear.
152
Thus, in her visions dim,
Old Hellas dreamt of Him,
The Avenger and Forgiver, whom we know,
Watching the shifting skies,
With varying auguries,
Now lit with hope, now clouded o'er with woe.
Old Hellas dreamt of Him,
The Avenger and Forgiver, whom we know,
Watching the shifting skies,
With varying auguries,
Now lit with hope, now clouded o'er with woe.
So must each thought of ill,
Bear its due scourging still,
The keen, sharp iron must pierce unto the soul;
The avenging fire must burn,
The torturing hour return,
The waves and billows o'er the spirit roll.
Bear its due scourging still,
The keen, sharp iron must pierce unto the soul;
The avenging fire must burn,
The torturing hour return,
The waves and billows o'er the spirit roll.
But when the heart shall bend
Its stubborn will, the end
Shall gleam in joy and brightness as the morn;
Bowed low before its God,
To kiss the chastening rod,
Hope dawns once more on features pale and worn.
Its stubborn will, the end
Shall gleam in joy and brightness as the morn;
Bowed low before its God,
To kiss the chastening rod,
Hope dawns once more on features pale and worn.
Here, too, the cleansing flood
Of water and of blood,
Must wash the suppliant from the deep-dyed stain;
He, on the hallowed ground,
Must walk in awe profound,
And through the darkness pass to light again.
Of water and of blood,
Must wash the suppliant from the deep-dyed stain;
He, on the hallowed ground,
Must walk in awe profound,
And through the darkness pass to light again.
153
Here too no revel mirth
Must bring the songs of earth,
To mar the silence which the angels love;
Only the bitter cry,
“Lord, save us, or we die,”
This shall at once our prayer and anthem prove.
Must bring the songs of earth,
To mar the silence which the angels love;
Only the bitter cry,
“Lord, save us, or we die,”
This shall at once our prayer and anthem prove.
So shall the two-edged sword,
The Spirit's mighty word,
Smite but to heal the poor, sin-stricken heart;
So from the Judge's face,
Shall smile of pardoning grace
Bring joy and gladness to the wounds that smart.
The Spirit's mighty word,
Smite but to heal the poor, sin-stricken heart;
So from the Judge's face,
Shall smile of pardoning grace
Bring joy and gladness to the wounds that smart.
So shall the Eternal Name,
Though changing, still the same,
Be to the soul its everlasting shield;
The King hath turned away
His Judgment's fiery day,
To children poor and weak the Father stands revealed.
Though changing, still the same,
Be to the soul its everlasting shield;
The King hath turned away
His Judgment's fiery day,
To children poor and weak the Father stands revealed.
February 1865.
| Master and Scholar | |