 | Gathered poems of Ernest Myers |  |
1
HELLENICA
3
THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS
Strife having arisen between Zeus and Poseidon for the sake of Thetis, daughter of Nereus the sea-god, Prometheus was delivered from bondage on Caucasus and called to declare the award of Fate, known to him alone.
Now through the royal hall, for Heaven's dread Lord
Wrought by the Fire-king's hand, the assembled Gods,
Upon the morn appointed, thronging ranged
Expectant; mute they moved, and took their thrones,
Gloom on their brows, though Gods; so dark the dread
Of huge impending battle held their hearts,
Battle of brother Kings, Heaven and the Sea
In duel dire, convulsive war of worlds.
Wrought by the Fire-king's hand, the assembled Gods,
Upon the morn appointed, thronging ranged
Expectant; mute they moved, and took their thrones,
Gloom on their brows, though Gods; so dark the dread
Of huge impending battle held their hearts,
Battle of brother Kings, Heaven and the Sea
In duel dire, convulsive war of worlds.
4
So mused they all, and highest throned the Sire,
Lord of the lightning; on one side his Queen,
On the other, not less nigh, his chosen child
Pallas, most dear of all his race divine.
Somewhat aloof, yet in the upper hall,
The King Poseidon sate, and round his throne
Ocean, and all great Rivers of the world,
And all Sea-powers, and hoary Nereus nigh,
Nereus the ancient prophet, Thetis' sire.
Full many dooms he knew of days to be,
Yet fate of his own child no whit foresaw
More than the rest, and with the rest must wait
Sore wondering: she in a cool cave the while,
Her maiden chamber, far beneath the foam,
Trembling abode, till Iris flashing down
Should stand on the sea-cliff, and with clear voice
Hail her betrothed, and call her forth to hear
The dread assignment of her destined lord.
Lord of the lightning; on one side his Queen,
On the other, not less nigh, his chosen child
Pallas, most dear of all his race divine.
Somewhat aloof, yet in the upper hall,
The King Poseidon sate, and round his throne
Ocean, and all great Rivers of the world,
And all Sea-powers, and hoary Nereus nigh,
Nereus the ancient prophet, Thetis' sire.
Full many dooms he knew of days to be,
Yet fate of his own child no whit foresaw
More than the rest, and with the rest must wait
Sore wondering: she in a cool cave the while,
Her maiden chamber, far beneath the foam,
Trembling abode, till Iris flashing down
Should stand on the sea-cliff, and with clear voice
Hail her betrothed, and call her forth to hear
The dread assignment of her destined lord.
Silent the Gods sate all, but now the sound
They caught of coming steps, and from the door
Hermes drew nigh, and at his side a Form
August, of godlike presence, paced the hall.
Like to those heavenly Gods yet diverse he.
Not quite akin he seemed nor alien quite,
Of elder race than they, no seed of Zeus,
Earthborn although divine, and conqueror crowned
From wrestling long with pain, to other Gods
Rare visitant. On his immortal brow,
Ploughed by strange pangs, anguish unknown in Heaven,
Dwelt weightier thought than theirs, more arduous love.
With one accord the congregated Gods
In sudden homage from their golden thrones
Rose up for reverent greeting, as he came.
Then, as he gained their midst, the Thunderer spake:
They caught of coming steps, and from the door
5
August, of godlike presence, paced the hall.
Like to those heavenly Gods yet diverse he.
Not quite akin he seemed nor alien quite,
Of elder race than they, no seed of Zeus,
Earthborn although divine, and conqueror crowned
From wrestling long with pain, to other Gods
Rare visitant. On his immortal brow,
Ploughed by strange pangs, anguish unknown in Heaven,
Dwelt weightier thought than theirs, more arduous love.
With one accord the congregated Gods
In sudden homage from their golden thrones
Rose up for reverent greeting, as he came.
Then, as he gained their midst, the Thunderer spake:
“Hail, wondrous Titan, Earth's mysterious son,
Prophet Prometheus! In this hour of need
Welcome thou art returned among the Gods,
Thyself a God: assume thy place, sit there
Acknowledged arbiter: what present doubt
Distracts our race divine thou knowest well
Already, and already know'st no less
The doom revealed that must that doubt dissolve.
Judge then, for all the Powers of Heaven are here
Expectant, and await thy final word.”
Prophet Prometheus! In this hour of need
Welcome thou art returned among the Gods,
Thyself a God: assume thy place, sit there
Acknowledged arbiter: what present doubt
6
Already, and already know'st no less
The doom revealed that must that doubt dissolve.
Judge then, for all the Powers of Heaven are here
Expectant, and await thy final word.”
He said, and all the assembly, when he ceased,
Murmuring well-pleased assent, had turned their gaze
There where the Titan sate, deep-plunged in thought;
Yet not for long; scarce had the murmur sunk
To silence, when his answering voice was heard:
Murmuring well-pleased assent, had turned their gaze
There where the Titan sate, deep-plunged in thought;
Yet not for long; scarce had the murmur sunk
To silence, when his answering voice was heard:
“Gods, and ye Kings of Heaven and of the Sea,
Who here demand my doom oracular,
That word of Fate ye seek, I bid you hear.
Not unto you, world-ruling Thrones divine,
Hath Fate this bride awarded whom ye woo.
Downward, far downward, bend your search, O Gods,
To once-despisëd earth, where lies a land,
Iolcus named, nigh to Olympus' foot,
There seek the sea-maid's lord by Fate assigned—
A man, and born of woman, but his blood
From thy celestial ichor, Sire of Gods,
Nathless derives; nor yet in earth nor heaven
Beats any heart more valiant or more pure.
He hath been tried and hath sore trial borne
As steel of surest temper, true at need,
Or as that ashen spear from Pelion's woods,
His weapon huge that none may wield but he,
Peleus, the son of thy son whom erewhile
The daughter of the River, once thy love,
Bare thee on earth: on Peleus falls the lot,
To him this bride is given, but with her bears
A sign inseparable, which to learn
Shall leave ye well content to yield to-day
What might infer far sorer sacrifice.
Thus hath Fate spoken: whosoe'er he be
That weds the sea-maid Thetis, unto him,
Or man or God immortal, must she bear
A son that shall be mightier than his sire.
Kings of the sky and sea, mark well this word.
No more let Peleus for his God-wooed bride
Be envied, or if envied, only then
For lowliness that calms the fear of fall.
What hurt have men, brief beings of a day,
If thus their sons succeeding top their power?
No hurt but joy, to mark the younger fame
Build up the gathering glory of their race.
But if, coëval in undying prime,
Some mightier son, as needs the mightier must,
On trident or on lightning laid his hand,
With unimagined iteration dire
Rousing wild memories of an elder world,
Ruins and revolutions hidden deep
In Time's dark gulf whereto no eyes revert,
Far other deed were that, far other doom.”
Who here demand my doom oracular,
That word of Fate ye seek, I bid you hear.
Not unto you, world-ruling Thrones divine,
Hath Fate this bride awarded whom ye woo.
Downward, far downward, bend your search, O Gods,
To once-despisëd earth, where lies a land,
Iolcus named, nigh to Olympus' foot,
7
A man, and born of woman, but his blood
From thy celestial ichor, Sire of Gods,
Nathless derives; nor yet in earth nor heaven
Beats any heart more valiant or more pure.
He hath been tried and hath sore trial borne
As steel of surest temper, true at need,
Or as that ashen spear from Pelion's woods,
His weapon huge that none may wield but he,
Peleus, the son of thy son whom erewhile
The daughter of the River, once thy love,
Bare thee on earth: on Peleus falls the lot,
To him this bride is given, but with her bears
A sign inseparable, which to learn
Shall leave ye well content to yield to-day
What might infer far sorer sacrifice.
Thus hath Fate spoken: whosoe'er he be
That weds the sea-maid Thetis, unto him,
Or man or God immortal, must she bear
A son that shall be mightier than his sire.
Kings of the sky and sea, mark well this word.
No more let Peleus for his God-wooed bride
8
For lowliness that calms the fear of fall.
What hurt have men, brief beings of a day,
If thus their sons succeeding top their power?
No hurt but joy, to mark the younger fame
Build up the gathering glory of their race.
But if, coëval in undying prime,
Some mightier son, as needs the mightier must,
On trident or on lightning laid his hand,
With unimagined iteration dire
Rousing wild memories of an elder world,
Ruins and revolutions hidden deep
In Time's dark gulf whereto no eyes revert,
Far other deed were that, far other doom.”
He ended, and the assembly all amazed
At that unlooked-for sentence, in great awe
On the two sovran Brethren bent their eyes.
No whit had either moved, but on the Seer
Kept their large gaze majestic, fixed and full.
Then, as one impulse in the twain had stirred,
From both with one accord their high assent
Rolled through the solemn stillness, deep and clear:
“So be it as thou sayest, Voice of Fate.”
At that unlooked-for sentence, in great awe
On the two sovran Brethren bent their eyes.
No whit had either moved, but on the Seer
Kept their large gaze majestic, fixed and full.
Then, as one impulse in the twain had stirred,
From both with one accord their high assent
9
“So be it as thou sayest, Voice of Fate.”
Therewith in confirmation those great Gods,
Immortal and imperial, bowed their brows.
Heaven stirred at that dread sign, and Earth afar
Thrice rocked responsive, heaving all her seas.
Immortal and imperial, bowed their brows.
Heaven stirred at that dread sign, and Earth afar
Thrice rocked responsive, heaving all her seas.
Again the Thunderer spake: “Titan, thy task
Is ended, but not ended be thy stay
Among thy peers, this company of Gods.
Here is thy place prepared, here dwell content,
Our counsellor at need, our new-won friend.
Rest here at ease, and learn the unfolded tale
By all these ages wrought in Heaven and Earth,
And changeful tribes of men, thy chosen care,
Once loved by thee alone; but now, be sure,
There is no God that hath not linked his name,
Perchance his race, to human hope and fear.
Stay then, for change by change is recompensed,
And new things now wax old, and old are new.”
Is ended, but not ended be thy stay
Among thy peers, this company of Gods.
Here is thy place prepared, here dwell content,
Our counsellor at need, our new-won friend.
Rest here at ease, and learn the unfolded tale
By all these ages wrought in Heaven and Earth,
And changeful tribes of men, thy chosen care,
Once loved by thee alone; but now, be sure,
There is no God that hath not linked his name,
Perchance his race, to human hope and fear.
Stay then, for change by change is recompensed,
And new things now wax old, and old are new.”
He spake, and all the approving throng divine
With acclamation free applauded loud,
Bidding the Titan welcome and all hail;
Henceforth, they cried, a counsellor of Heaven,
Interpreter of Fate, and friend of Man.
But when their greeting ceased, and sought reply,
He raised his eyes, and with slow-moving gaze
Looked round on that celestial company.
Then with deep voice and mild he answering said:
With acclamation free applauded loud,
10
Henceforth, they cried, a counsellor of Heaven,
Interpreter of Fate, and friend of Man.
But when their greeting ceased, and sought reply,
He raised his eyes, and with slow-moving gaze
Looked round on that celestial company.
Then with deep voice and mild he answering said:
“Deem not, O Gods, I lightly prize your call.
Thought of inveterate wrong, no longer now
By hourly instant anguish riveted,
Hath fallen from my soul, and left her free
To sweep on ample circles of her wing
Amid dim visions, slowly growing clear,
Of rolling age on age, her proper realm,
Her proper lore; yet all I gladly learn:
Either of this new kindlier life of Heaven,
Or of that once-scorned world of suffering men,
Whereto your world is linked for ever now,
Right gladly would I hear, yet not as one
Quite shut from knowledge all these exiled years.
Think ye my Mother dear, deep-murmuring Earth,
Could find no means of message, when I lay
On the bare rock between her breast and Heaven?—
That starry Heaven that made me know my life
Not unbefriended of celestial Powers,
Though other than Olympian; year by year,
Through height ineffable of frozen air,
Stooped the keen stars, and graved upon my soul,
In fateful characters of golden fire,
Deep and more deep, their slow-unfolding lore.
And more of what they told I too must tell,
Sometime, not now: enough of things to be
Hath been to-day revealed. But now, O Gods,
Farewell; I may not tarry for your voice,
Your friendly voice; but other voices call,
Inaudible to you, but to this heart
Admonitory, o'ermastering, deeply dear.
Yea, my racked being yearns for great repose,
Deep sleep and sweet, almost the sleep of death:
And after that, long time my life must pause
In meditative musing, now no more
Pierced by abrupt assault of arrowy pain.
Not here my place of rest; far hence I seek
Beyond or world of Gods or world of men,
The Tower of ancient Kronos, where he dwells
Amid the Blessed Isles, his final home,
The habitation of a holy calm.
There evermore the West-winds dewy-winged,
Borne o'er the Ocean-river, lightly breathe;
And over all that sweet and solemn realm
Broods a mild golden light of mellow beam,
Less bright by far than this celestial splendour,
A low warm light, as of eternal eve.
And there are gathered, or shall gather soon,
All my dear kindred, offspring of the Earth,
The brotherhood Titanic, finding there
Harbour desired, and after sore exíle
Rejoining well content their ancient King.
Nor these alone; for to that saving shore
A race far other surely shall be called,
Of seed far humbler sprung, but by decree
Of dooms august, that doom both God and Man,
Raised to high meed, the spirits of just men
Made here companions of immortal Gods;
Themselves perchance—grudge not, O seed of Heaven!—
Destined, despite their clay, to conquer death.
There for long years, how long I know not yet,
My lot is fixed with that dear folk to dwell;
But not for ever; sometime yet to be
(Thus far I know and tell) I come again,
To counsel, and to do, and to endure.
But whether to this glorious hall of Heaven,
Or whether unto Man's long-suffering brood,
I know not—nay nor even surely know
If this my shape wherein I stand to-day
Be changed at my new coming: on such wise
Wears my great Mother many a form and name,
Yet holds through all her one identity.
Thus may I too. Or if the time shall come
When all the storëd counsel of my soul
Is spent, and all mine oracles outworn,
There shall not fail a prophet in my place,
Some hand to bear the torch, new wisdom bringing
Wiser than Promethéan; yet that too
Taught him not only by the all-teacher Time,
But by long toil and travail, hate and love,
Design, and disappointment, and defeat,
And by rapt converse held with Earth, and Stars,
And with deep hidden well-springs of the world.
Thought of inveterate wrong, no longer now
By hourly instant anguish riveted,
Hath fallen from my soul, and left her free
To sweep on ample circles of her wing
Amid dim visions, slowly growing clear,
Of rolling age on age, her proper realm,
Her proper lore; yet all I gladly learn:
Either of this new kindlier life of Heaven,
Or of that once-scorned world of suffering men,
Whereto your world is linked for ever now,
Right gladly would I hear, yet not as one
Quite shut from knowledge all these exiled years.
Think ye my Mother dear, deep-murmuring Earth,
Could find no means of message, when I lay
11
That starry Heaven that made me know my life
Not unbefriended of celestial Powers,
Though other than Olympian; year by year,
Through height ineffable of frozen air,
Stooped the keen stars, and graved upon my soul,
In fateful characters of golden fire,
Deep and more deep, their slow-unfolding lore.
And more of what they told I too must tell,
Sometime, not now: enough of things to be
Hath been to-day revealed. But now, O Gods,
Farewell; I may not tarry for your voice,
Your friendly voice; but other voices call,
Inaudible to you, but to this heart
Admonitory, o'ermastering, deeply dear.
Yea, my racked being yearns for great repose,
Deep sleep and sweet, almost the sleep of death:
And after that, long time my life must pause
In meditative musing, now no more
Pierced by abrupt assault of arrowy pain.
Not here my place of rest; far hence I seek
12
The Tower of ancient Kronos, where he dwells
Amid the Blessed Isles, his final home,
The habitation of a holy calm.
There evermore the West-winds dewy-winged,
Borne o'er the Ocean-river, lightly breathe;
And over all that sweet and solemn realm
Broods a mild golden light of mellow beam,
Less bright by far than this celestial splendour,
A low warm light, as of eternal eve.
And there are gathered, or shall gather soon,
All my dear kindred, offspring of the Earth,
The brotherhood Titanic, finding there
Harbour desired, and after sore exíle
Rejoining well content their ancient King.
Nor these alone; for to that saving shore
A race far other surely shall be called,
Of seed far humbler sprung, but by decree
Of dooms august, that doom both God and Man,
Raised to high meed, the spirits of just men
Made here companions of immortal Gods;
13
Destined, despite their clay, to conquer death.
There for long years, how long I know not yet,
My lot is fixed with that dear folk to dwell;
But not for ever; sometime yet to be
(Thus far I know and tell) I come again,
To counsel, and to do, and to endure.
But whether to this glorious hall of Heaven,
Or whether unto Man's long-suffering brood,
I know not—nay nor even surely know
If this my shape wherein I stand to-day
Be changed at my new coming: on such wise
Wears my great Mother many a form and name,
Yet holds through all her one identity.
Thus may I too. Or if the time shall come
When all the storëd counsel of my soul
Is spent, and all mine oracles outworn,
There shall not fail a prophet in my place,
Some hand to bear the torch, new wisdom bringing
Wiser than Promethéan; yet that too
Taught him not only by the all-teacher Time,
14
Design, and disappointment, and defeat,
And by rapt converse held with Earth, and Stars,
And with deep hidden well-springs of the world.
But now to my much-yearned-for rest afar
I must begone. Wherefore, for that long way,
I pray ye, deathless Presences of Heaven,
Suffer one moment in your shining halls
The appointed convoy that shall bear me hence.
They wait without, and now are near at hand.
My strength is spent in speaking: Gods, farewell.”
I must begone. Wherefore, for that long way,
I pray ye, deathless Presences of Heaven,
Suffer one moment in your shining halls
The appointed convoy that shall bear me hence.
They wait without, and now are near at hand.
My strength is spent in speaking: Gods, farewell.”
He ceased, but with his word they saw descend
Two Shapes benign that with wide-hovering wing,
Noiseless as birds' that through the brooding night
Flit all unheard, and of like feathery form,
Close to the Titan's side came floating down.
Well known the one, and welcome even in Heaven,
For even in Heaven who shall not welcome Sleep?
But round his brother twin a halo hung,
Wellnigh invisible, a filmy veil,
And his calm lips were paler: through the Gods
A brief scarce-heeded shudder lightly ran
At that mild Presence, for they looked on Death.
Not for dominion came he there that day,
But helpmeet of his brother, bound with him
To welcome succour of the weary God.
So to his side those Forms fraternal drew.
His faint eyes half had closed, his failing head
Sank on the breast of Sleep: together both
Raised him with reverent touch, and spread their plumes
Inaudibly. One beat of those wide wings,
Fraught with their sacred burden, bare them forth;
And in a moment, lo, the heavenly hall
Held them no more, but far they fleeted on
Down through the glimmering deep of empty air.
Two Shapes benign that with wide-hovering wing,
Noiseless as birds' that through the brooding night
Flit all unheard, and of like feathery form,
Close to the Titan's side came floating down.
Well known the one, and welcome even in Heaven,
For even in Heaven who shall not welcome Sleep?
But round his brother twin a halo hung,
Wellnigh invisible, a filmy veil,
And his calm lips were paler: through the Gods
15
At that mild Presence, for they looked on Death.
Not for dominion came he there that day,
But helpmeet of his brother, bound with him
To welcome succour of the weary God.
So to his side those Forms fraternal drew.
His faint eyes half had closed, his failing head
Sank on the breast of Sleep: together both
Raised him with reverent touch, and spread their plumes
Inaudibly. One beat of those wide wings,
Fraught with their sacred burden, bare them forth;
And in a moment, lo, the heavenly hall
Held them no more, but far they fleeted on
Down through the glimmering deep of empty air.
16
ACHILLES
Athwart the sunrise of our western dayThe form of great Achilles, high and clear,
Stands forth in arms, wielding the Pelian spear.
The sanguine tides of that immortal fray,
Swept on by Gods, around him surge and sway,
Wherethrough the helms of many a warrior peer,
Strong men and swift, their tossing plumes uprear.
But stronger, swifter, goodlier he than they,
More awful, more divine. Yet mark anigh;
Some fiery pang hath rent his soul within,
Some hovering shade his brows encompasseth.
What gifts hath Fate for all his chivalry?
Even such as hearts heroic oftenest win;
Honour, a friend, anguish, untimely death.
17
RHODES
Beyond the ages far away,
When yet the fateful Earth was young,
And 'mid her seas unfurrowed lay
Her lands uncitied and unsung,
The Gods in council round their King
Were met for her apportioning.
When yet the fateful Earth was young,
And 'mid her seas unfurrowed lay
Her lands uncitied and unsung,
The Gods in council round their King
Were met for her apportioning.
Then shook the Sire the golden urn
Wherefrom the lots leapt forth to view,
And God by God took up in turn
The symbol of his kingdom due;
Till each had linked some heavenly name
To human hope and human fame.
Wherefrom the lots leapt forth to view,
And God by God took up in turn
The symbol of his kingdom due;
Till each had linked some heavenly name
To human hope and human fame.
18
When lo, a footstep on the floor,
A radiance in the radiant air;
A God august, forgot before,
Too late arrived, was lastly there—
The Sun-god from his fiery car
Unyoked beneath the evening star.
A radiance in the radiant air;
A God august, forgot before,
Too late arrived, was lastly there—
The Sun-god from his fiery car
Unyoked beneath the evening star.
Then said the Sire: “For thee no lot,
O Sun, of all the lots is drawn,
For thy bright chariot, well I wot,
Hath held thee since the broadening dawn.
But come, for all the gods are fain
For thy fair sake to cast again.”
O Sun, of all the lots is drawn,
For thy bright chariot, well I wot,
Hath held thee since the broadening dawn.
But come, for all the gods are fain
For thy fair sake to cast again.”
“Nay now, for me is little need
New lots to cast” (so spake the Sun);
“One isle assign me for the meed
Of that diurnal course I run:
Behold beneath the glimmering sea
A land unclaimed, the land for me.”
New lots to cast” (so spake the Sun);
“One isle assign me for the meed
Of that diurnal course I run:
Behold beneath the glimmering sea
A land unclaimed, the land for me.”
19
Therewith he shot an arrowy ray
Down through the blue Ægean deep;
Thrilled by that magic dart of day,
The hidden isle shook off her sleep.
She moved, she rose, and with the morn
She touched the air, and Rhodes was born.
Down through the blue Ægean deep;
Thrilled by that magic dart of day,
The hidden isle shook off her sleep.
She moved, she rose, and with the morn
She touched the air, and Rhodes was born.
Then all about that starry sea
There ran a gratulating stir,
Her fellows for all time to be
In choral congress greeting her,
With air-borne song and flashing smiles,
A sisterhood of glorious isles.
There ran a gratulating stir,
Her fellows for all time to be
In choral congress greeting her,
With air-borne song and flashing smiles,
A sisterhood of glorious isles.
And still as from his car on high
Her Lord his daily splendour sent,
She joyed to know his gladdening eye
On her, his best-beloved, was bent:
And ever in that fostering gaze
Grew up the stature of her praise.
Her Lord his daily splendour sent,
She joyed to know his gladdening eye
On her, his best-beloved, was bent:
And ever in that fostering gaze
Grew up the stature of her praise.
20
What early wondrous might was hers,
The craftsmanship of cunning hands,
Of that wise art the harbingers
Whose fame is uttered through all lands.
Then Rhodians by the Sun-god's side
Besought Athene to abide.
The craftsmanship of cunning hands,
Of that wise art the harbingers
Whose fame is uttered through all lands.
Then Rhodians by the Sun-god's side
Besought Athene to abide.
She came, she loved the Rosy Isle,
And Lindos reared her eastward fane;
To Rhodian chiefs she brought the while
New thoughts, new valiance in her train,
New hope to bind about their brows
The olive of her Father's house.
And Lindos reared her eastward fane;
To Rhodian chiefs she brought the while
New thoughts, new valiance in her train,
New hope to bind about their brows
The olive of her Father's house.
Then won Diagoras that prize
Yet fairer than his forest crown,
That voice whereby in godlike wise
His name through time goes deathless down.
In graven gold her walls along
Flamed forth the proud Pindaric song.
Yet fairer than his forest crown,
That voice whereby in godlike wise
His name through time goes deathless down.
In graven gold her walls along
Flamed forth the proud Pindaric song.
21
She too her own Athenians stirred
To that fair deed of chivalry,
That high imperishable word
That set the Rhodian Dorieus free,
And linked in unison divine
Her Lindian to her Attic shrine.
To that fair deed of chivalry,
That high imperishable word
That set the Rhodian Dorieus free,
And linked in unison divine
Her Lindian to her Attic shrine.
Bright hours, too brief! The shadowing hand
Half barbarous of a giant form
Even the strong Sun-god's loyal land
Must wrap in mist of sombre storm,
When Hellas bowed, her birthright gone,
Beneath the might of Macedon.
Half barbarous of a giant form
Even the strong Sun-god's loyal land
Must wrap in mist of sombre storm,
When Hellas bowed, her birthright gone,
Beneath the might of Macedon.
Yet even then not lightly bound
Was Rhodes of any vanquisher;
With all his engines thundering round
The City-stormer stormed not her.
In vain: anon the Roman doom
Had sealed her spirit in the tomb.
Was Rhodes of any vanquisher;
With all his engines thundering round
The City-stormer stormed not her.
In vain: anon the Roman doom
Had sealed her spirit in the tomb.
22
Long ages slept she. Then a dream
Once more across her slumber shone,
Cleaving the dark, a quickening gleam
All-glorious as in days foregone;
A new God's presence nobler far
Than any Lord of sun or star.
Once more across her slumber shone,
Cleaving the dark, a quickening gleam
All-glorious as in days foregone;
A new God's presence nobler far
Than any Lord of sun or star.
He showed her him whose prophet eye
Hailed him with homage first and best;
“For John,” he said, “my herald high,
Stand forth, a champion of the West,
Sealed with my name, and his in mine,
Our vanguard in the war divine.”
Hailed him with homage first and best;
“For John,” he said, “my herald high,
Stand forth, a champion of the West,
Sealed with my name, and his in mine,
Our vanguard in the war divine.”
She rose, she stemmed the Moslem flood
That roared and ravined for her life,
Till drop by drop the knightly blood
Was drained in that stupendous strife;
Then, sole amid the o'erwhelming sea,
Sank in heroic agony.
That roared and ravined for her life,
Till drop by drop the knightly blood
Was drained in that stupendous strife;
Then, sole amid the o'erwhelming sea,
Sank in heroic agony.
23
Twice born, twice slain! all this is o'er
Three hundred years; yet may there be
(So strong a life is in thy core),
O Rhodes, another birth for thee.
Look up, behold this banner new,
The white cross on the field of blue.
Three hundred years; yet may there be
(So strong a life is in thy core),
O Rhodes, another birth for thee.
Look up, behold this banner new,
The white cross on the field of blue.
Through all the Isles the broadening light
Creeps on a sure but lingering way,
And half are in the fading night
And half are in the dawning day:
Thou too, O Rhodes, shalt make thee one
Once more with freedom and the Sun.
Creeps on a sure but lingering way,
And half are in the fading night
And half are in the dawning day:
Thou too, O Rhodes, shalt make thee one
Once more with freedom and the Sun.
24
DORIEUS
In the year 406 b.c., seven years after the annihilation of the Athenian army before Syracuse, the Athenian fleet took prisoner one Dorieus, a member of the great Rhodian house of the Eratidai, who had brought ships to the aid of Sparta against Athens. Dorieus had himself been thrice crowned at Olympia, and his father Diagoras had won the boxing-match there in the year 464, when Pindar wrote for him the ode called the Seventh Olympian, which the Rhodians engraved in letters of gold in the temple of Athene at Lindos.
It was the custom of the time either to release prisoners of war for a ransom or else to put them to death. The Athenians asked no ransom of Dorieus, but set him free on the spot.
Queenly Athens, those were years of anguish,
Since thy proud host perished o'er the foam,
Left to rot upon the field, or languish
Pent in Dorian prison-pits of doom:
From that dire defeat
Turn'st thou back to meet
Foes without and fiercer foes at home.
Since thy proud host perished o'er the foam,
Left to rot upon the field, or languish
Pent in Dorian prison-pits of doom:
From that dire defeat
Turn'st thou back to meet
Foes without and fiercer foes at home.
25
Yet in those nine years, when need was sorest,
How thy high heart stirs and strives alway!
Still the Queen of Light, whom thou adorest,
Breathes some brightness through the dolorous day:
As we read, the page
Glows with noble rage;
Deadly wounded, thou hast turned to bay.
How thy high heart stirs and strives alway!
Still the Queen of Light, whom thou adorest,
Breathes some brightness through the dolorous day:
As we read, the page
Glows with noble rage;
Deadly wounded, thou hast turned to bay.
But, more glorious than thy glorious anger,
Shines thy sudden mercy in its stead;
Clutched by death, nor agony nor languor
Bows the bearing of thy regal head:
Fearless yet and free
Sayest thou, “I am she,
Athens yet, though half my force be fled.
Shines thy sudden mercy in its stead;
Clutched by death, nor agony nor languor
Bows the bearing of thy regal head:
Fearless yet and free
Sayest thou, “I am she,
Athens yet, though half my force be fled.
“Ay, amid this darkened age and dwindled,
Still my sons have memory of their fame;
Now for one fair moment see rekindled
One divine spark of the ancient flame;
Know them, now as then,
Marathonian men,
Champions of the high Hellenic name.
Still my sons have memory of their fame;
Now for one fair moment see rekindled
One divine spark of the ancient flame;
26
Marathonian men,
Champions of the high Hellenic name.
“Rhodian Dorieus, thou hast fought to tame me,
Fought and failed, and yielded to my spear:
Hadst thou conquered, conquest could not shame me,
So to thee too can no shame come near;
Still thine eager sight
Keeps the battle's light,
Still thy brave brow fronts me without fear.
Fought and failed, and yielded to my spear:
Hadst thou conquered, conquest could not shame me,
So to thee too can no shame come near;
Still thine eager sight
Keeps the battle's light,
Still thy brave brow fronts me without fear.
“But to mine eyes other light around thee
Hovers yet upon thy clustering hair,
Light of silvery olive-leaves that crown'd thee
When the Great Games hailed thee victor there;
When the mid-month moon
Heard the swelling tune
Heralding the athlete strong and fair.
Hovers yet upon thy clustering hair,
Light of silvery olive-leaves that crown'd thee
When the Great Games hailed thee victor there;
When the mid-month moon
Heard the swelling tune
Heralding the athlete strong and fair.
27
“Nor in vain the Theban eagle, soaring
High in heaven the morning clouds among,
Bare thy sire's name for eternal storing,
Sealed in labyrinth of splendid song;
Still in golden line
From the Lindian shrine
Flames his praise the sunlit seas along.
High in heaven the morning clouds among,
Bare thy sire's name for eternal storing,
Sealed in labyrinth of splendid song;
Still in golden line
From the Lindian shrine
Flames his praise the sunlit seas along.
“By the spell of those Pindaric splendours,
By the old Athenian chivalry,
By thy sire, and by my sons, defenders
Of that God who crowned both him and thee,
Noble Rhodian foe,
Gird thy sword and go,
Athens gives thee greeting, thou art free.”
By the old Athenian chivalry,
By thy sire, and by my sons, defenders
Of that God who crowned both him and thee,
Noble Rhodian foe,
Gird thy sword and go,
Athens gives thee greeting, thou art free.”
28
KALLIKRATIDAS
The Athenians' magnanimity towards Dorieus was even surpassed in the same year by the Spartan admiral Kallikratidas, a noble exception among his countrymen, who, having taken certain Athenians prisoners of war in Lesbos, set them all at liberty, declaring that he would never keep Hellenes in bondage.
A few months afterwards Kallikratidas was killed, leading his fleet at the great battle of Arginusæ.
Her equal sword among the guardian band
Of powers Hellenic for the Hellenic land.
Brothers, bear back this message to her door.
There lies the foe eternal, there the war
Holy and just.” He pointed with his hand
Eastward to Susa, o'er the Mysian strand
And sinuous bays of that ill-trusted shore.
29
At what a height thy soaring spirit burns
Star-like, and floods thy kind with quickening fire!
Too soon, great heart, thy generous race is run,
Too soon the scattered night of hate returns,
And dark Lysander's unrelenting ire.
30
PINDAR
Son of the lightning, fair and fiery star,Strong-winged imperial Pindar, voice divine,
Let these deep draughts of thy enchanted wine
Lift me with thee in soarings high and far,
Prouder than Pegaseän, or the car
Wherein Apollo rapt the huntress maid.
So let me range mine hour, too soon to fade
To the dull presence of the things that are.
Yet know that even amid this jarring noise
Of hates, loves, creeds, together heaped and hurled,
Some echo faint of grace and grandeur stirs
From thy sweet Hellas, home of noble joys.
First fruit and best of all the western world,
Whate'er we hold of beauty, half is hers.
31
PHILHELLENE
I
Grant me all the store of knowledge, grant me all the wealth that is,
Swiftly, surely, I would answer, Give me rather, give me this:
Swiftly, surely, I would answer, Give me rather, give me this:
Bear me back across the ages to the years that are no more,
Give me one sweet month of spring-time on the old Saronic shore;
Give me one sweet month of spring-time on the old Saronic shore;
Not as one who marvels mournful, seeing with a sad desire
Shattered temples, crumbling columns, ashes of a holy fire;
Shattered temples, crumbling columns, ashes of a holy fire;
32
But a man with men Hellenic doing that which there was done,
There among the sons of Athens, not a stranger but a son.
There among the sons of Athens, not a stranger but a son.
There the blue sea gave them greeting when their triremes' conquering files
Swam superb with rhythmic oarage through the multitude of isles.
Swam superb with rhythmic oarage through the multitude of isles.
There they met the Mede and brake him, beat him to his slavish East;
Who was he, a guest unwished-for bursting on their freeman's feast?
Who was he, a guest unwished-for bursting on their freeman's feast?
There the ancient celebration to the maiden queen of fight
Led the long august procession upward to the pillared height.
Led the long august procession upward to the pillared height.
33
Man with man they met together in a kindly life and free,
And their gods were near about them in the sunlight or the sea.
And their gods were near about them in the sunlight or the sea.
There the light of hidden Wisdom sprang to their compelling quest;
Ray by ray the dawn from Hellas rose upon the wakening West.
Ray by ray the dawn from Hellas rose upon the wakening West.
Every thought of all their thinking swayed the world for good or ill,
Every pulse of all their life-blood beats across the ages still.
Every pulse of all their life-blood beats across the ages still.
34
II
THE LOST BROTHER AMONG THE NATIONS
He is no more, that brother brave and fair,
Whose living made the whole world glorious;
His wings are closed, and for no sigh or prayer
Shall that bright brother fly again to us.
Whose living made the whole world glorious;
His wings are closed, and for no sigh or prayer
Shall that bright brother fly again to us.
What though the earth hath many a son full strong
To the wide brotherhood of peoples born,
These to a dark and wingless race belong,
And with the mother for their lost one mourn.
To the wide brotherhood of peoples born,
These to a dark and wingless race belong,
And with the mother for their lost one mourn.
Alas, and yet of old time not in vain
The queen of Eryx and Idalion
Wept sore for her Adonis, till again
From the grim flood of envious Acheron
The queen of Eryx and Idalion
Wept sore for her Adonis, till again
From the grim flood of envious Acheron
35
The longed-for Hours slow treading, soft and slow,
Bare back her love, delivered from the deep;
But our Adonis no return may know;
He sleeps in silence an unending sleep.
Bare back her love, delivered from the deep;
But our Adonis no return may know;
He sleeps in silence an unending sleep.
Far far away in some enchanted glade,
The world's most secret and most solemn place,
He sleeps unchanging in the twilight shade,
Nor life nor death upon his restful face.
The world's most secret and most solemn place,
He sleeps unchanging in the twilight shade,
Nor life nor death upon his restful face.
Yet some, by grace granted to faithful love,
Are thither rapt to gaze upon the shrine,
Where on his calm couch in the glimmering grove
Lie the bright limbs of the lost boy divine.
Are thither rapt to gaze upon the shrine,
Where on his calm couch in the glimmering grove
Lie the bright limbs of the lost boy divine.
Thenceforth if any time there come to these
Some sweeter melody, some sight more fair,
They dream they catch his call among the trees,
His golden wings upon the whispering air.
Some sweeter melody, some sight more fair,
They dream they catch his call among the trees,
His golden wings upon the whispering air.
36
III
Ay, let our fates be such, for such they are:So ordereth the voice oracular
Of the slow-moving, ever-moving years,
Too stern, too kind, to stay them for our fears;
And our own breasts that know a younger age
Our creditor for ampler heritage.
Yet whoso anywhiles hath lingered long
In that high realm of unforgotten song,
This man, methinks, shall never quite set free
His soul from that constraining phantasy;
Still sometimes in a lonely place and fair,
Where the warm south-winds stir the rainy air
And sigh themselves to silence, shall his ear
In that low wistful sighing seem to hear
From dreamy regions of the elder earth
A mournful music sweeter than our mirth;
Some harping of the God of golden head
By Delian waters wakened from the dead,
Some voice of wailing wood-nymphs amorous
Far off, within the folds of Maenalus.
37
THE BOY AND THE DOLPHIN
A band of boys went bathing to the sea,
All fair, but one the first in youthful bloom:
Him marked a Dolphin, tenderest of his kind,
Far off, and joined his gambols in the wave.
And a great love grew up between the twain:
For day by day the boy came to the shore,
And day by day his faithful friend was there,
And on his back would bear him merrily
Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear.
But on an unblest morn, what time their mirth
Was happiest, and the boy in trustful glee
Upon his playmate stretched his limbs at length,
And backward leaned, and shouted to his steed,
Ay me, the sharp spear of the Dolphin's fin
Pierced his fair side and spilt his tender life.
So there was no more play between the twain.
But that poor friend, perceiving how the foam
Was crimsoned all with blood about his track,
And the sweet voice, which was his music, hushed,
Knew that all joy was slain, and agony
Seized him, and he desired himself to die.
All fair, but one the first in youthful bloom:
Him marked a Dolphin, tenderest of his kind,
Far off, and joined his gambols in the wave.
And a great love grew up between the twain:
For day by day the boy came to the shore,
And day by day his faithful friend was there,
And on his back would bear him merrily
Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear.
But on an unblest morn, what time their mirth
Was happiest, and the boy in trustful glee
Upon his playmate stretched his limbs at length,
And backward leaned, and shouted to his steed,
Ay me, the sharp spear of the Dolphin's fin
Pierced his fair side and spilt his tender life.
38
But that poor friend, perceiving how the foam
Was crimsoned all with blood about his track,
And the sweet voice, which was his music, hushed,
Knew that all joy was slain, and agony
Seized him, and he desired himself to die.
So to the beach he bore him mournfully
Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear;
And on the sand he laid him softly down,
And by his side gave up his grieving soul.
Amid the dashing waves, a burden dear;
And on the sand he laid him softly down,
And by his side gave up his grieving soul.
But the boy's comrades, sorrowing for their mate,
Took up the corpse and washed it of the blood,
And laid it in a grave beside the sea,
Beside the sea, above the wave-washed sand,
And by his side they laid the Dolphin dead
For sake of that true love he bare the boy.
Took up the corpse and washed it of the blood,
And laid it in a grave beside the sea,
Beside the sea, above the wave-washed sand,
And by his side they laid the Dolphin dead
For sake of that true love he bare the boy.
39
THE LOVE-LORE OF MOSCHUS
Pan loved his neighbour Echo; Echo lovedA gamesome Satyr; he, by her unmoved,
Loved only Lyde; thus through Echo, Pan,
Lyde, and Satyr, Love his circle ran.
Thus all, while their true lovers' hearts they grieved,
Were scorned in turn, and what they gave received.
O all Love's scorners, learn this lesson true:
Be kind to Love that he be kind to you.
40
THE LAMENT OF MOSCHUS
Ay me, ay me, the mallow in the mead,
The parsley green, the anise-tendril's ring,
Fade all and die, but in due season freed
Grow yet again and greet another spring:
The parsley green, the anise-tendril's ring,
Fade all and die, but in due season freed
Grow yet again and greet another spring:
But we, we men, the mighty and the strong,
Wise-witted men, when our one life is o'er,
Low laid in earth sleep silently and long
A sleep that wins no waking, evermore.
Wise-witted men, when our one life is o'er,
Low laid in earth sleep silently and long
A sleep that wins no waking, evermore.
41
THE OLYMPIC HERMES
[_]
(A statue found at Olympia and ascribed to Praxiteles. On the arm of Hermes is a child said to be Bacchus.)
From the dim North, from Ister's fount afar,
Behind the blast of winter, where abide
The Hyperborean folk, a baneless land,
Came Heracles, and bare the silvery bough
To shade the plain beside Alpheus' bed,
And be a crown of valiance evermore.
Behind the blast of winter, where abide
The Hyperborean folk, a baneless land,
Came Heracles, and bare the silvery bough
To shade the plain beside Alpheus' bed,
And be a crown of valiance evermore.
Therefore through all the golden prime of Earth,
When her best race was glad beneath the day,
Endured that praise; and as of stars the Sun
Is first, and Gold of metals, as of all
Earth's primal gifts to man is Water best,
So he who spake for understanding ears
Words of divine assignment, crowns of song,
Of all fair feasts the Olympic deemed most fair.
When her best race was glad beneath the day,
Endured that praise; and as of stars the Sun
Is first, and Gold of metals, as of all
Earth's primal gifts to man is Water best,
So he who spake for understanding ears
42
Of all fair feasts the Olympic deemed most fair.
Here was the home of Zeus, the shrines were here
Of Gods and sons of Gods, his lineage high,
So many ages worshipt where they dwelt,
So many ages after, all forgot;
Whether their carven forms by robber hands
Were rapt beyond the sea, or ground to dust,
Or whether in the kindly breast of Earth
Patient they slept, even as dead bones of men.
Sleeping or dead alike they sank from sight,
And through the ages no man recked to mourn
For their mild brows and presence tutelar,
Similitude divine, divinely wrought.
But now once more with keen remorseful eyes,
And hunger of the heart for beauty dead,
Men seek them sorrowing, and with painful hands
Upturn the sacred soil till, maimed and rare,
Strange clouded fragments of the ancient glory,
Late lingerers of the company divine,
Arise, like glimmering phantoms of a dream.
Yet even in ruin of their marble limbs
They breathe of that far world wherefrom they came,
Of liquid light and harmonies serene,
Lost halls of Heaven and large Olympian air.
Thus slept He long, thus hath He risen so late,
Of Gods and sons of Gods, his lineage high,
So many ages worshipt where they dwelt,
So many ages after, all forgot;
Whether their carven forms by robber hands
Were rapt beyond the sea, or ground to dust,
Or whether in the kindly breast of Earth
Patient they slept, even as dead bones of men.
Sleeping or dead alike they sank from sight,
And through the ages no man recked to mourn
For their mild brows and presence tutelar,
Similitude divine, divinely wrought.
But now once more with keen remorseful eyes,
And hunger of the heart for beauty dead,
Men seek them sorrowing, and with painful hands
Upturn the sacred soil till, maimed and rare,
Strange clouded fragments of the ancient glory,
Late lingerers of the company divine,
Arise, like glimmering phantoms of a dream.
Yet even in ruin of their marble limbs
43
Of liquid light and harmonies serene,
Lost halls of Heaven and large Olympian air.
The Son of Maia: that the earth no more
Holds him in night sepulchral, this to him
Is nought, or eyes of gazers; his own world
He bears within him, all untoucht of Time.
Yet haply if thou gaze upon the God
In reverent silence, even to thee shall flow
From that high presence of the unconscious form
Some effluent spell, whereby thy calmëd soul
Shall be indrawn to that diviner world
Wherein his soul hath being, fair and free.
Unharmed of chance and ruin, lo, his head
Bends with half-smile benign above his charge,
The little child, the son of Semele,
Snatched from the fierce tongues of celestial fire,
The insupportable blaze of very Zeus,
His mother's doom; but from his baby soul
44
And left him blithe on his mild brother's arm,
His tender hand on that strong shoulder prest.
Hermes, was this thy gift? Yet well thou knewest
How wild a sway that babe full-grown would wield,
The God of frenzied brain and blood afire,
Fired howsoe'er divinely: yea, but thou
Could'st turn these too to glory and delight,
Spirit more pure and loftier life of man.
For thou into man's teeming thoughts pent up,
And inarticulate fancies, didst inbreathe
Voice like thine own; and passion's tuneless storm
Sweeping therethrough made sudden melodies,
The sweeter for its frenzy, for from thee
Came spells of song and speech, from thee the lyre.
And where the pillared city's festal folk
In sunny mart or shadowed portico
Were met for converse, or where athlete youth
In emulous games honoured the all-giving Gods,
And native Earth, and immemorial power
Of quickening Rivers that right well had reared
Their growing manhood, thy grave smile was there.
How wild a sway that babe full-grown would wield,
The God of frenzied brain and blood afire,
Fired howsoe'er divinely: yea, but thou
Could'st turn these too to glory and delight,
Spirit more pure and loftier life of man.
For thou into man's teeming thoughts pent up,
And inarticulate fancies, didst inbreathe
Voice like thine own; and passion's tuneless storm
Sweeping therethrough made sudden melodies,
The sweeter for its frenzy, for from thee
Came spells of song and speech, from thee the lyre.
And where the pillared city's festal folk
In sunny mart or shadowed portico
Were met for converse, or where athlete youth
In emulous games honoured the all-giving Gods,
And native Earth, and immemorial power
45
Their growing manhood, thy grave smile was there.
Interpreter of Heaven, these were not all,
Not all thy gifts, though plenteous; nay, though these
Be very good, yet one, the best, remains.
For thou, fair lord, thou also, having filled
Man's little life so full with act and thought,
Leadest him lastly down the darkling road
To that dim realm where griefs and gains are dead,
Or live as dreams dreamed by a dream-like shade.
Were they indeed aught more beneath the noon
Of this brave Sun that must himself wax cold?
Who knoweth? Come, dear Guardian, Guide divine;
For this thou art arisen out of earth
That held thee there in Elis sleeping well.
Give thou the babe to Rhea; she no less,
Mysterious Mother of an elder Heaven,
Hath store of spells to heal the coming gust
Of his young madness; take thy serpent-wand,
And gather to thee those thy subject souls
Born out of due time in an alien world,
To whom are given, in toil or in repose,
So rare, so faint, thine advent and thine aid.
They shall not shrink or flutter, as the ghosts
Of those impure the avenging arrows slew,
But follow firmly on, until they come
To some fair congress of the noble dead,
Set free from flying pain and flying joy,
There find their home, and rest for ever there.
Not all thy gifts, though plenteous; nay, though these
Be very good, yet one, the best, remains.
For thou, fair lord, thou also, having filled
Man's little life so full with act and thought,
Leadest him lastly down the darkling road
To that dim realm where griefs and gains are dead,
Or live as dreams dreamed by a dream-like shade.
Were they indeed aught more beneath the noon
Of this brave Sun that must himself wax cold?
Who knoweth? Come, dear Guardian, Guide divine;
For this thou art arisen out of earth
That held thee there in Elis sleeping well.
Give thou the babe to Rhea; she no less,
Mysterious Mother of an elder Heaven,
Hath store of spells to heal the coming gust
Of his young madness; take thy serpent-wand,
And gather to thee those thy subject souls
46
To whom are given, in toil or in repose,
So rare, so faint, thine advent and thine aid.
They shall not shrink or flutter, as the ghosts
Of those impure the avenging arrows slew,
But follow firmly on, until they come
To some fair congress of the noble dead,
Set free from flying pain and flying joy,
There find their home, and rest for ever there.
| Gathered poems of Ernest Myers | |