Glimpses of Antiquity Being a collection of metrical sketches, in the form of ballads, lyrics, &c., with main reference to mediaeval times or classical subjects. By George F. Preston [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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THE DIALOGUE OF LIFE. |
 | Glimpses of Antiquity |  |
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THE DIALOGUE OF LIFE.
EVENING.—THE SHORE OF THE HELLESPONT.- Cassandra.
- —Æneas.
In the pure calm of Heaven, unrounded by
The thronging palace-walls, our souls breathe in
Rest from the evening air. How still the sea
Rests too by yonder mountains! Great repose
Hath wrapt the Titan nature. I half fancy
All could stay thus for ever!
Cassandra.
Nature is patient, exquisitely patient,
Waiting eternity in solemn calm.
Thousands of years have o'er this landscape faded,
And wrought in fading wondrous little change
To its main features—field and stream the same;
Deep-wooded bends, where countless stilly dawns
Ushered by fine and slender morning breeze,
Have run their course; while yonder on the verge
Innumerable sunset-lights have wrought
Enchanted barriers in the castled clouds,
Till farther west the instant changes blent
Marbled the rack behind them.
Waiting eternity in solemn calm.
Thousands of years have o'er this landscape faded,
And wrought in fading wondrous little change
To its main features—field and stream the same;
Deep-wooded bends, where countless stilly dawns
Ushered by fine and slender morning breeze,
Have run their course; while yonder on the verge
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Enchanted barriers in the castled clouds,
Till farther west the instant changes blent
Marbled the rack behind them.
Spring and neap,
And ebb and flow, the ocean-wash hath dashed
O'er those weed-mantled rocks, that sand-ribbed shore;
Scarce changed their tide-mark of unwearied waves,
Rippling for ages—waiting—grandly patient!
Yon light cloud stirs not in Heaven's overblue;
But my heart seethes and boils and is so restless.
I have not greatness, faith enough, for patience,
Or to abide eternity. My soul
Faints to be following yonder ebbing sun,
Whither she knows not!
And ebb and flow, the ocean-wash hath dashed
O'er those weed-mantled rocks, that sand-ribbed shore;
Scarce changed their tide-mark of unwearied waves,
Rippling for ages—waiting—grandly patient!
Yon light cloud stirs not in Heaven's overblue;
But my heart seethes and boils and is so restless.
I have not greatness, faith enough, for patience,
Or to abide eternity. My soul
Faints to be following yonder ebbing sun,
Whither she knows not!
Æneas.
Ay! our youthful dreamings
Are but a vague impatience. We imagine
Life one great tumult of majestic deeds,
Nor take into account that of their lives
Whom most we worship many fruitless days,
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That made them names and patterns for all time!
And even then there came despairing hours
Into these great ones' lives; for they had known
Heroic deeds, and knew what once they were,
And so they could not sink to quiet graves,
Content with former fame, if minished aught
Of strength, which wanes—of wisdom, that age dims!
And thus those lives that most resembled Gods,
Most bitter felt their fallings back, and past
Hours of most human and most weak despair!
Æneas.
Yet who may shrink the conflict? Thus our lot
Is cast us by immortals. We must front
The tempest in our teeth, not pass our days
In the hearth corner, sensitive and cold
To each external blast of this rude world,
Quilted and wrapt from every roughened breath.
Cassandra.
Yes! action is most glorious, and its pauses
Sweeten our dreams the more. 'Tis then so grand
Upon a toilsome evening to retrace
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Have lived not quite in vain—that some good deeds
Have been reclaimed from the encroachful waste
Of idleness and chaos—some poor hours
Redeemed from night's dominion—that may move
The spirit of the after-worlds to praise
When we and ours are ashes. Hearts unborn,
Tried with our trials, winning as we won,
Shall bless us in a sympathy of fate,
And twin their fame with ours!
Æneas.
Ay! fame, strong fame!
That hath held many from a self-sought rush
Into the nether night, when life alone
Seemed despicable breath. 'Tis only sound,
Hardly reality; for shall we care
If ages hence that name which once we were
Meet censure or find worship? Canst thou think
That the dead warrior hears his comrades peal
Their shout of victory above his grave
Under the fresh-heaped sod? Shall then men's praise
Awake us after centuries of decay?
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Hard the enigmas of the humblest lives;
Deep-woven knots and tangles of confusion,
Thro' which immortal eyes alone discern
Order and law converging ends of good!
Æneas.
O! we are in their hands, the ancient Gods!
They watch our doings from their amber thrones,
And move us on like puppets to destruction;
Or may be, length of days and broadened rule,
To tempt yet ampler sinning. Who may say?
I am fast planted as the forest-king,
My branches fear no whirlwind, and my roots
Have grappled half the mountain! Trust of fools!
These Gods of ours that sunshine breathe to-day,
To-morrow send their blear Eumenides:
The noble tree lies splintered—his huge arms
Shall reach no longer at the morning sun,
Nor cloud the noonday from his clustered peers!
Cassandra.
Ay! we endure—and that our help is none,
Accept perforce their day-beam, as their bolt—
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That treble woe foreseeing ere it fall.
Brooding on sorrows destined for dear heads,
That laugh themselves, unknowing what I know,
In respite from affliction till it strike:
And then an ample leisure to bewail,
And time enough to mourn it—O forgive,
Great master Phœbus, this my querulous heart;
Thy visions are too mighty, and all sense
Is parch'd away to madness. High thy gift,
Inestimably precious; yet not less
Thou hast bereft me of all earthward rest,
And filled my soul with longings too intense,
And aspiration higher than is meet
For a weak mortal, and yet weaker maid!
Æneas.
Trust and despair not! For this passing dream
Of thine is but a vapour clinging round
The youth-tide of thy life, which ampler day
Shall roll beyond the mountains, as yon mist
Is rolling back up Gargarus; every height
Is kindled in mad radiance; sheeted gold,—
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Mirrors the mountains back—no sound astir,
Save a faint hum of voices numberless,
That yet I doubt for voices!—Let us go.
| Glimpses of Antiquity | |