 | The Stranger at the Gate |  |
GLAUCUS
GLAUCUS, the fisher, sat his tossing craft:
The sun was dying on the Roman lake,
And, save where Day, departing, grimly laughed,
The skies were dim, as mourning for his sake.
Safe was it for the saucy fish to take
Its bite unnoticed; nor did Glaucus see
The boiling clouds that dogged the fierce winds' wake:
Far other stormier, gloomier thoughts had he
Than how his craft went mad upon the dizzy sea.
The sun was dying on the Roman lake,
And, save where Day, departing, grimly laughed,
The skies were dim, as mourning for his sake.
Safe was it for the saucy fish to take
Its bite unnoticed; nor did Glaucus see
The boiling clouds that dogged the fierce winds' wake:
Far other stormier, gloomier thoughts had he
Than how his craft went mad upon the dizzy sea.
"Howl, O mad Winds! You can no stronger blow
Than blows despairing passion in my brain!
What care I where my futile soul may go,
Since our two souls must evermore be twain?
I am the poor rough toiler of the main,
A god's desires in a slave's bent form.
Full many a valiant hero in her vein
Rebreathes, and unborn kings in her are warm!"
He spoke, the while he breathed the frenzy of the storm.
Than blows despairing passion in my brain!
What care I where my futile soul may go,
Since our two souls must evermore be twain?
I am the poor rough toiler of the main,
A god's desires in a slave's bent form.
Full many a valiant hero in her vein
Rebreathes, and unborn kings in her are warm!"
He spoke, the while he breathed the frenzy of the storm.
"Some hand uncalloused shall unbind her zone.
Some soft, unweathered cheek shall she caress.
She is a god's soft song, and I a moan.
Her veins run day, and mine the dumb distress
Of dusk; yet I have felt her bosom press
Throughout the night against my peasant breast,
And disenchanting dawn hath left me less,
Less than a memory of what mocked my rest."
—Now Night had frowned the last sad glory from the west.
Some soft, unweathered cheek shall she caress.
She is a god's soft song, and I a moan.
Her veins run day, and mine the dumb distress
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Throughout the night against my peasant breast,
And disenchanting dawn hath left me less,
Less than a memory of what mocked my rest."
—Now Night had frowned the last sad glory from the west.
The sea crouched snarling like an ambushed beast,
And hissing, crashing, sprang upon the bark!
Still from the mad abysm of the east
Debouched the howling cohorts of the Dark!
Nor lulled the cloud-winged winds that they might hark
How gasped the struggling fisher in the sea.
Meanwhile in drowning Glaucus flashed a spark
Of that swift flame that thrills infinity,
And through him ran a voice—"Thou art a deity!"
And hissing, crashing, sprang upon the bark!
Still from the mad abysm of the east
Debouched the howling cohorts of the Dark!
Nor lulled the cloud-winged winds that they might hark
How gasped the struggling fisher in the sea.
Meanwhile in drowning Glaucus flashed a spark
Of that swift flame that thrills infinity,
And through him ran a voice—"Thou art a deity!"
The pang of passing pinched his chilling frame;
The grin of death sat sullen on his face;
But o'er his soul a thrill exultant came!
Within the crystal glories of the place
He saw his form reflected, full of grace,
As though the sinuous beauty of the storm
Had breathed itself in one of mortal race!
Then as the god welled in him, wild and warm,
Cleaving the shaken deeps, he mounted in the storm!
The grin of death sat sullen on his face;
But o'er his soul a thrill exultant came!
Within the crystal glories of the place
He saw his form reflected, full of grace,
As though the sinuous beauty of the storm
Had breathed itself in one of mortal race!
Then as the god welled in him, wild and warm,
Cleaving the shaken deeps, he mounted in the storm!
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To him the thunder was a pigmy's shout.
Above the roar of wind and wave he cried:
"Blow till the frenzied Earth shall toss about
Again with Titan-pangs! I ride, I ride,
God of the Wind and Master of the Tide!
Burst from AEolus' careful hand and shake
The ancient dusk and silence that abide
About the world's end, O ye Winds! Awake!
Breathe terror through the skies for poor mad Glaucus' sake!"
Above the roar of wind and wave he cried:
"Blow till the frenzied Earth shall toss about
Again with Titan-pangs! I ride, I ride,
God of the Wind and Master of the Tide!
Burst from AEolus' careful hand and shake
The ancient dusk and silence that abide
About the world's end, O ye Winds! Awake!
Breathe terror through the skies for poor mad Glaucus' sake!"
As some brain with a morbid dream distraught,
All night the Cosmos trembled with the rush
Of storm, that, like the darkling, flaring thought,
Found peace in self-destruction. Morning's blush
Lured Eos up the scarped east through a hush.
Afloat upon the dawn-stream, Glaucus knew
The soft Olympian ecstasies that gush
>From hearts forever young. The world was new;
Blue was the sea beneath him, the sky about him blue.
All night the Cosmos trembled with the rush
Of storm, that, like the darkling, flaring thought,
Found peace in self-destruction. Morning's blush
Lured Eos up the scarped east through a hush.
Afloat upon the dawn-stream, Glaucus knew
The soft Olympian ecstasies that gush
>From hearts forever young. The world was new;
Blue was the sea beneath him, the sky about him blue.
Upon a couch of golden mist reclined
The new-born Wind-God, Glaucus. Near him crooned
Some unseen Zephyr like a soul that pined;
Its theme was love, its notes were sleepy-tuned.
Then grew on him the soft nights, argent-mooned,
When, as a mortal, he had crept anigh
Where she, his Princess, walked, the while he swooned
With the voluptuous pleasure of his eye.
—The unseen Zephyr sang; the Wind God heaved a sigh.
The new-born Wind-God, Glaucus. Near him crooned
Some unseen Zephyr like a soul that pined;
Its theme was love, its notes were sleepy-tuned.
Then grew on him the soft nights, argent-mooned,
When, as a mortal, he had crept anigh
Where she, his Princess, walked, the while he swooned
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—The unseen Zephyr sang; the Wind God heaved a sigh.
The lazy day strolled up the golden steep.
A tender vision thrilled the drowsed god's brain.
There came an amorous woman in his sleep,
Wide-armed and panting as with gentle pain.
He knew the face, the form and the sweet strain
That was her voice: "O Glaucus, I am thine!
Teach me to die, to leave the flesh and vein
That make a prison! Oh, that thou wert mine!"
The god awoke: the day still climbed the long incline.
A tender vision thrilled the drowsed god's brain.
There came an amorous woman in his sleep,
Wide-armed and panting as with gentle pain.
He knew the face, the form and the sweet strain
That was her voice: "O Glaucus, I am thine!
Teach me to die, to leave the flesh and vein
That make a prison! Oh, that thou wert mine!"
The god awoke: the day still climbed the long incline.
The amorous voice still echoed in his heart.
Beneath his cloud he bade the swift winds blow.
Scarce did the golden fleece-couch seem to start,
When spread a palace garden far below:
The languorous palms, the flashing founts—and Oh!
There slept the being of his sweetest thought!
So summoned he the various winds that blow
Sweet-burdened with the subtle incense caught
>From Summer isles where suns their softest wiles have wrought:
Beneath his cloud he bade the swift winds blow.
Scarce did the golden fleece-couch seem to start,
When spread a palace garden far below:
The languorous palms, the flashing founts—and Oh!
There slept the being of his sweetest thought!
So summoned he the various winds that blow
Sweet-burdened with the subtle incense caught
>From Summer isles where suns their softest wiles have wrought:
And in the sleeper's blood he bade them creep
To brew warm passion in her pulse, and sing,
Weaving their music dreamlike through her sleep,
The love-begetting amour of their king.
Then close he crept unto her, whispering
Words of immortal meaning: "Come with me
And I shall make thee deathless! From the spring
That laves Olympus thou shalt drink, and be
Bride of the boundless Air and mistress of the Sea!
To brew warm passion in her pulse, and sing,
Weaving their music dreamlike through her sleep,
The love-begetting amour of their king.
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Words of immortal meaning: "Come with me
And I shall make thee deathless! From the spring
That laves Olympus thou shalt drink, and be
Bride of the boundless Air and mistress of the Sea!
"All night our souls shall twine, while Dian's star
Pours out Elysium on our fleecy sleep.
And we shall sight the sunrise from afar,
And we shall thrill to see Apollo leap
Out of the Deep to plunge into the Deep!
The Horses of the Storm shall stoop to thee,
And thou shalt back them, queenlike, and shalt sweep
Into the unlocked depths of Mystery—
Bride of the boundless Air and mistress of the Sea!"
Pours out Elysium on our fleecy sleep.
And we shall sight the sunrise from afar,
And we shall thrill to see Apollo leap
Out of the Deep to plunge into the Deep!
The Horses of the Storm shall stoop to thee,
And thou shalt back them, queenlike, and shalt sweep
Into the unlocked depths of Mystery—
Bride of the boundless Air and mistress of the Sea!"
What said the sleeper's soul? Ah, who can know
What fond, unspoken vows were plighted then?
Did not the wind that day more gently blow,
And was the air not scented sweet, as when
Dates burst to make the desert glad again?
Ah, thankless task, to urge a modern shell
To croon into the ears of hurried men
The music of the wonder that befell!
For cold her form was found. The rest the peasants tell.
What fond, unspoken vows were plighted then?
Did not the wind that day more gently blow,
And was the air not scented sweet, as when
Dates burst to make the desert glad again?
Ah, thankless task, to urge a modern shell
To croon into the ears of hurried men
The music of the wonder that befell!
For cold her form was found. The rest the peasants tell.
| The Stranger at the Gate | |