LIBRARY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 University of California. 
 
 Class 
 
 XiISM s- 
 
PERSEPHONE 
 
 THE NEW DIG ATE POEM, 1890 
 
 BY 
 
 LAURENCE BINYON 
 
 SCHOLAR OF TRINITY COLLEGK 
 
 UNiVERSiTV \ 
 
 OF J 
 JFORN^s;^ 
 
 OXFORD 
 
 B. H. BLACKWELL, 50 & 51 BROAD STREET 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL & CO. 
 
 1890 
 
OXFORD 
 
 PRINTED BY E. B. DOE 
 
 HIGH STREET 
 
 GENERAL 
 
PERSEPHONE. 
 
 Was it the wind that echo'd through the sky ? 
 Or rose from earth that melancholy cry ? 
 Through heaven it floated, through the hush'd 
 
 abodes 
 And the untroubled mansions of the gods. 
 Thrice in the still space rang those quivering tones ; 
 And the gods wonder'd on their golden thrones. 
 Demeter heard ; and, as it fill'd her ear, 
 Across her heart smote cold a sudden fear. 
 She knew the voice : or could it be she dream'd ? 
 So like the voice of her own child it seem'd, 
 Her own fair child, that should be far away 
 In Sicily, among the nymphs at play. 
 The sun still edged the western hills with flame, 
 When from Olympus swift the goddess came. 
 And down to earth and the Sicilian shore 
 Descended, borne above the ocean floor, 
 
4 Persephone. 
 
 Till, bathed in the broad light of setting day, 
 
 Before her feet the vale of Enna lay. 
 
 Beautiful Enna, with its pastures wide. 
 
 Sloped up to woods upon the wild hill-side ; 
 
 And in the hill-side there grew thickets old. 
 
 With springs that in moss'd hollows bubbled cold ; 
 
 Tender primroses ; and the opening bloom 
 
 Of violets, bright amid that fragrant gloom ; 
 
 And, waving by dark roots of ivied trees, 
 
 Wild hyacinths, and pure anemones. 
 
 But all within the circle of the hills 
 
 The meadows gleam'd with blowing daffodils ; 
 
 A golden field ! and from the valley's head 
 
 A stream ran murmuring in its flower-fringed bed. 
 
 Before Demeter's feet the valley lay : 
 
 But those that her eyes sought for, where were 
 
 they ? 
 O faithless nymphs of Enna, where were ye ? 
 Whither had flown your charge, Persephone ? 
 No living sound comes to her listening ear : 
 Only the rushy water whispers clear ; 
 Only the vacant woodland meets her sight, 
 And fields reposing in the evening light. 
 
Persephone. 5 
 
 Long the sad goddess gazed with eager eyes 
 On the abandon'd vale and lonely skies ; 
 And called upon her child, and on the name 
 Of many a Naiad, but no answer came. 
 No voice, no sound : for every sound seem'd dead ; 
 The maiden and her playmates, all were fled. 
 Night fell : the sorrowing goddess, fain to stay, 
 From the soon-darken'd vale turn'd loth away ; 
 And by the stars she wander'd ; and the morn 
 Shone on her tears, and found her still forlorn. 
 Many a shore and many an inland place. 
 Forest and city, saw her mournful face ; 
 In every land she asked of hind and king, 
 And question'd all the nymphs by every spring ; 
 Nymphs of the woods, and nymphs of the blue sea ; 
 But none had news of lost Persephone. 
 
 Meanwhile, far otherwhere, the child she sought, 
 Unconscious what deep woe her loss had wrought. 
 In that dim realm where human spirits come. 
 After the stormy world, to their still home ; 
 There, where the nine sad streams of Styx enfold 
 Mysterious regions with their ripples cold. 
 High on a solemn throne by Pluto's side. 
 
6 Persephone. 
 
 Musing she sat, a melancholy bride. 
 
 How came she thither ? By what dismal way, 
 
 Willing or loth, left she the lovely day ? 
 
 Pluto desiring, where he ruled alone, 
 
 A queen to share his solitary throne. 
 
 Craved her of Zeus ; and Zeus refused him not 
 
 The boon, and granted what his brother sought. 
 
 So, as among her playmates, on the hills 
 
 Of Sicily, she pluck'd the daffodils, 
 
 Following the fresh-blown flowers, that fairer 
 
 shone, 
 Still waving, as she roam'd delighted on, 
 When now she seem'd alone in that rich glade. 
 Alone, and far from her companions stray'd. 
 Suddenly from the opening earth there came 
 A wind, and dusky horses breathing flame ; 
 And swiftly muffling her scarce-utter'd cry 
 To her far mother in the distant sky, 
 Pluto had caught her up, and in a breath 
 Whirl'd her away to his own realms beneath. 
 But now lamenting that his lovely spouse 
 Sat mute and listless, with dejected brows. 
 He laid his hand in hers, and strove to find 
 
Persephone. ; 
 
 Some thought of comfort for her wounded mind. 
 
 " Persephone ! so much regret'st thou, then, 
 Heaven, and thy kindred, and the world of men ? 
 Was all thy life bent but to gathering flowers 
 In the gay sunshine, and to empty hours ? 
 Is it so much, to have lost those trivial joys, 
 Delights so transient, and mere human toys ? 
 For though the sky be roof 'd with twilight here. 
 Illuming shadowy fields, abodes austere. 
 Yet hast thou empire, and more ample sway 
 Than all the kings that rule the realms of day. 
 No richer, no more vast dominion 
 Even Hera, queen among the gods, may own : 
 Hither the peoples of those earthly powers 
 Come thronging : all must at the last be ours ; 
 All that was ever lovely to mankind. 
 Honour, and beauty, and a noble mind. 
 Such rule thou hast : why, then, so idly yearn 
 For things refused, impossible return ? 
 Look up ! and let thy subject shades rejoice 
 To hear the greeting of a heavenly voice. 
 Let thy face be their sunlight ! let them see 
 Again, the radiance of the dawn in thee ! 
 
8 Persephone. 
 
 Be as thou wast, when in those fields above 
 Thou smotest me with imperishable love ; 
 When, like a flower among the flowers, I found 
 And gather'd thee from that unworthy ground ; 
 Gave thee a throne, and judgment, and to know 
 Things secret, and this sacred world below. 
 Which of thy false friends listen'd to thy cry ? 
 Which ever gave thee half such love as I ? " 
 
 Thus spoke the passionate king; but his sad 
 bride 
 Kept silence long, then mournfully replied : 
 
 *' Ah, cruel lord ! had'st thou this love thou 
 say'st, 
 Thou had'st not torn me with such violent haste. 
 Aidless, unwoo'd, unwilling, and unwon, 
 From my companions and the kindly sun. 
 And what to me is empire ? Can to reign 
 Over ten thousand thousand heal my pain ? 
 See, in my breast still clings one fading flower : 
 Not half so dear to me is all thy power ! 
 Yet whither shall I turn, forlorn, alone, 
 Forsaken, and my very lot unknown ? 
 Was not, O mother, thine own child so dear, 
 
Perseph 
 
 tone. 
 
 Thou could'st not to my piteous cry give ear, 
 When on me, hke a sudden whirlwind, swept 
 That cloudy car, those dreadful horses leapt, 
 And the flowers fell from out my hand, and hurl'd 
 In that dark chariot to this dismal world. 
 Left by my playmates, since I could not flee. 
 In my despair I cried aloud on thee. 
 Thou did'st not hear ; thou could'st not ; far from 
 
 earth. 
 In Heaven thou sat'st, among the sounds of mirth ; 
 And there thou still sit'st tranquil, unaware 
 That I am taken from the light of air, 
 And, under earth, in remote silence dwell. 
 Bearing wide rule indeed, but rule in Hell. 
 For never comes the pleasant morning here. 
 Nor any Spring, nor change in the dull year ; 
 Only chill twilight, and the unfreshen'd breeze 
 Rustling the melancholy aspen-trees. 
 But thou, my mother, in thy luminous home 
 Sit'st smiling, and the gods around thee come 
 Where all about thy throne sleeps evermore 
 The peaceful light upon Heaven's rosy floor. 
 There with soft feet the ministering Hours 
 
lo Persephone. 
 
 Bring each her gifts; and Hebe brings thee flowers, 
 Fresh flowers, and gather'd from unfading fields. 
 All that the ever-festal summer yields. 
 And the wind plays about the marble walls, 
 Filling with freshness those delightful halls, 
 And where thou sittest on thy golden chair, 
 Stirring the languid poppies in thy hair. 
 No voice of grief comes thither, but soft noise 
 Of laughter, music, and the sound of joys : 
 Or, if some human lamentation strong 
 Pierce thither in the extremity of wrong. 
 Faintly it comes among the happy sound, 
 Even as, I know, my own sad cries were drown'd." 
 While thus those two held converse, through 
 
 the gloom 
 Appear'd a shape, whose aspect seemed to illume 
 Even the heavy air of that dim place ; 
 So shone the light on his celestial face. 
 He seem'd as one whose peace the approach of 
 
 pain 
 Could never touch ; nor even Hell's terrors stain 
 The majesty of joy, that from his eyes 
 Look'd clear and full upon its mysteries. 
 
Persephone. 1 1 
 
 Soon then were Pluto and his queen aware 
 
 Of those Heaven-moulded limbs, that shining hair. 
 
 What yearning pangs were thine, Persephone ! 
 
 What pangs of envy, yet of joy, to see 
 
 Once more the presence of a God ; to feel 
 
 The serene charm such heavenly minds reveal. 
 
 And mark again on his immortal brow 
 
 The bloom, the light, that was her own till now. 
 
 How her heart leapt, for all the heavy ache 
 
 Of her long sorrow, as bright Hermes spake : 
 
 " Hail ! brother of our Father Zeus, and hail ! 
 Thou queen of this dim realm, this region pale. 
 Not often, surely, is the pathway trod. 
 That hither leads, by footsteps of a God : 
 And seldom, though by me the troops of dead 
 On the long road to their last home are led. 
 Full seldom have these winged sandals borne 
 My feet across the wave of Styx forlorn. 
 But now I come, because the potent word 
 Constrains me hither of our sovereign lord : 
 For he, who gave thee, Pluto, thy new bride, 
 Bids thee restore her to her mother's side. 
 Till then, Demeter, who through earth hath sought, 
 
12 Persephone. 
 
 Nine days, her child, and now at last found out 
 To whom, and to what keeping she is given, 
 In anger shuns the company of heaven, 
 Blighting the harvest and the works of men. 
 Till Zeus give back Persephone again. 
 Therefore he wills that she be reconciled. 
 And thou surrender up her ravish'd child. 
 Yet, since he may not slight his former vow. 
 She shall not wholly leave thee ; nor shalt thou 
 Reign desolate : half the year her place shall be 
 Among the gods in heaven, and half with thee." 
 
 So ended Hermes, and the phantoms dim 
 Came listening, while their grave king answer'd 
 him. 
 
 " Since Zeus hath willed it, be it so : his sway, 
 Even for the gods, 'tis hard to disobey. 
 Go then, fair bride, whither thy heart doth yearn : 
 Less loth, when the time comes, thou wilt return!" 
 
 Persephone arose, and left her lord. 
 The groves of poplar, and the streams abhorr'd ; 
 And, Hermes guiding her, she pass'd away 
 Out of the darkness, into upper day. 
 From far Demeter spied her, and with haste 
 
Persephone. 13 
 
 Came to her ; and with tears they two embraced, 
 And gazed into each other's eyes again, 
 Having found peace at last from all their pain. 
 
 " Is this, then, Earth, the radiant Earth I left ? 
 From fields like these was I so swiftly reft ? 
 Such spreading fields, such kind and tranquil 
 
 skies ? 
 I see them now, but with what alter'd eyes ! 
 For where no joyful thing is, I have been : 
 What the Gods loathe to look on, I have seen. 
 And for these mortals, whom relentless Fate 
 Pursues and drives toward the unloved gate, 
 To throng before my throne, I know not what 
 Of grief hath touched me for their mournful lot. 
 For see, how brief for them is life, and bloom ; 
 How brief, and darken'd by the approaching 
 
 doom ! 
 Scarcely they open their delighted eyes. 
 Ere comes the day that robs them of the skies. 
 And for me, too, brief is my sojourn here : 
 From me joy must be absent half the year. 
 I have not drunk of Lethe ; no, nor yet 
 Earth's pleasant fields, her sun can I forget, 
 
14 Persephone. 
 
 Nor our sweet converse in our home above, 
 Delights unending, nor thy fostering love. 
 Though six dim months my place be far apart. 
 These still shall dwell within my inmost heart. 
 Meanwhile thou hast me here : these months are 
 
 mine: 
 In them let us have joy ! Bright let them shine 
 Upon us, till the day when I must go 
 To that dark home, and to my lord below." 
 
 *^ OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
M 
 
CASK 
 
 1 G5067