 | The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd |  |
82
THE LUTE OF ORPHEUS
Orpheus dead, the Thracian Mænads left him lying marble-pale,
Thrust the daggers through their hair-knots, shrieking, fled along the vale.
Thrust the daggers through their hair-knots, shrieking, fled along the vale.
But the still face in the rushes and the eyes that had no sight
Stared with pitiful appealing through the shadows of the night.
Stared with pitiful appealing through the shadows of the night.
And the night-bird missed his answer, and a sadness marred her song,
And the wind sighed in the willows, and the stream bewailed his wrong.
And the wind sighed in the willows, and the stream bewailed his wrong.
And the clouds swept tears for sorrow, and the wan moon veiled her eyes,
For the sob of stricken nature seemed to penetrate the skies.
For the sob of stricken nature seemed to penetrate the skies.
83
There one found him who had loved him, in the reed-bed gashed and torn,
Where of old she heard him singing in the silence of the morn;
Where of old she heard him singing in the silence of the morn;
Found her hero far-off worshipped, dimly known and deified,
Found the magic lute beside him and the lute-strings all untied.
Found the magic lute beside him and the lute-strings all untied.
Bent a laurel bough to crown him, smoothed the damp hair on his head,
Closed the startled eyes, and gently kissed the cold lips of her dead.
Closed the startled eyes, and gently kissed the cold lips of her dead.
And she decked the corse with rushes, hid the red and horrid scars,
Said, ‘O silent voice of music, re-awakened with the stars,
Said, ‘O silent voice of music, re-awakened with the stars,
When up there at Zeus' high feasting, crowned you strike a louder lute,
Seeing all things, oh remember one whose love was meek and mute.’
Seeing all things, oh remember one whose love was meek and mute.’
84
Then the Muses came lamenting by the Strymon's willowy shore,
Wept immortal tears bewailing, ‘Worship is on earth no more.
Wept immortal tears bewailing, ‘Worship is on earth no more.
‘Thou that lovedst, thou that weepest, thine unsatisfied desire
Shall rewake the broken music of the silent singer's lyre.
Shall rewake the broken music of the silent singer's lyre.
‘Sing of love as he of beauty, sing of tears as he of mirth,
Sing of peace as he of passion, sing the woman-song of earth.’
Sing of peace as he of passion, sing the woman-song of earth.’
So they twined their hair for lute-strings, kissed unrest into her eyes,
Bared her soul to human sorrow, tuned her lips to human sighs.
Bared her soul to human sorrow, tuned her lips to human sighs.
And they sped her forth to wander, touching mortal hearts to tears,
First on earth of maiden singers in the morning of the years.
First on earth of maiden singers in the morning of the years.
| The violet crown by Sir Rennell Rodd | |