THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS AND OTHER POEMS £- ©iforU PRINTED BY HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS %nb Qtbtx |p f m s BY ERNEST MYERS MACMILLAN AND CO. 1886 [ AH rights reserved ] DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR TO HIS WIFE. che tra bella e buona Non so qual sia piu. 859869 CONTENTS. The Judgment of Prometheus Old Lands and New Rhodes The Olympic Hermes Sonnets : Achilles .... Mazzini and Garibaldi . Folkestone Cliff . On the Death of James Spedding The Bay of Lerici . Vallombrosa .... High Street Fell, "Westmoreland The Kingdom of Love : I. The Sanctuary II. An Anniversary . • III. Dawn. IV. The Rose . V. The River of Love. Versions from Homer's Iliad and Virgil's Aeneid I. The Angering of Achilles II. The Enmity of Juno . III. The Flight from Troy . IV. The Armour of Aenuis Ode on the Death of General Gordon PAGE 1 l 7 20 3° 37 38 39 4° 4 1 44 45 49 50 54 56 57 61 87 99 1 11 1 20 The 'Ode on the Death of General Gordon' and the ^ poem entitled ' Rhodes ' are reprinted from the Fortnightly Review, by the courteous permission of its publishers. ERRATUM. Page 6, line 3, for asken read ashen [Myers' Judgment 0/ Prometheus.} 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. TV] OW through the royal hall, for Heaven's dread Lord Wrought by the Fireking's hand, the assembled Gods, Upon the morn appointed, thronging ranged Expectant j 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 •6- B 2 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. In duel dire, convulsive war of worlds. 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 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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 B 2 4 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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." He said, and all the assembly, when he ceased, Murmuring well-pleased assent, had turned their gaze THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 5 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-despised 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 1 F Beats any heart more valiant or more pure. 6 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. He hath been tried and hath sore trial borne As steel of surest temper, true at need, Or as that asken 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 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. \ 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, coeval 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 8 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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." 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. 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, THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 9 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 : " 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 IO THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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, THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. I I 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, 12 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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 exile 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 ; THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 13 Themselves perchance — grudge not, 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 stored counsel of my soul Is spent, and all mine oracles outworn, 14 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. There shall not fail a prophet in my place, Some hand to bear the torch, new wisdom bringing Wiser than Promethean; 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. 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." He ceased, but with his word they saw descend Two Shapes benign that with wide-hovering wing, THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS, 1 5 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 1 6 THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS. 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. OLD LANDS AND NEW. PHE sea-sand who shall number, Or tell the wasted store Of fallen leaves that cumber The wintry forest floor? So dense, so all unthought for, Drop down in lane and den From wretched life they wrought for The dying throngs of men. Down drop they bruised and breathless, Forget at last to feel : Above the dead men deathless Fate drives her iron wheel. c 1 8 OLD LANDS AND NEW. No ray for these arisen Had pledged a glimpse of day ; To break their sunless prison This was the only way. II. Blow strong, blow sweet, O Ocean wind, As o'er the Ocean waves we flee ! Sweep forth the old life from our mind, Inspire the life to be ! There Nature shares her godlike moods, Stars in a clearer heaven are there; The glory of the flaming woods, The glory of the air. OLD LANDS AND NEW. 19 The elder lands that seemed so wide, Now all too straitly, sorely pen, Too close for kindness, side by side, The jostling lives of men. Behind us, lo, the landward light, Choked by the mist, forlorn and grey, Has paled and past, forsaking quite The portals of the day. But yonder, lo, the fervid skies Flood with their fire the western brine; 'Tis there our spirits' sun shall rise, Some unknown day divine. c 2 RHODES. "DEYOND 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. 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. RHODES. 2 1 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. 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." 2 2 RHODES. " 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." Therewith he shot an arrowy ray Down through the blue Aegean 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. RHODES. 23 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. 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. 24 RHODES. 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. 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. RHODES. Then won Diagoras that prize Yet fairer than his silvery 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. 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. 26 RHODES. 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. Yet even then not lightly bound Was Rhodes of any vanquisher ; With all his engines thundering round The City-stormer 1 stormed not her. In vain : anon the Roman doom Had sealed her spirit in the tomb. 1 Demetrius Poliorcetes. RHODES. 27 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. He showed her him whose chosen head Had leaned upon his holy breast; " For John my well-beloved," he said, " Stand forth, a champion of the West, Sealed with my name, and his in mine, Our vanguard in the war divine. 28 RHODES. 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. 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. RHODES. 29 Through all the Isles the broadening light Creeps on its 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. HERMES WITH THE CHILD BACCHUS. (A statue made by Praxiteles, and lately disinterred at Olympia.) T7ROIM the dim North, from Danube's stream unknown, Behind the blast of winter, where abide The Hyperborean folk, a mystic land, t lame Heracles, and bare the silvery bough To shade the plain beside Alphcus' 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, HERMES. 31 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. 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, 32 HERMES. 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. The Son of Maia: that the earth no more Holds him in night sepulcral, this to him Is nought, or eyes of gazers ; his own world HERMES. 33 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 calmed 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 The terror of that night hath passed away, 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 D 34 HERMES. 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. HERMES. 35 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 D 2 36 HERMES. 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. ACHILLES. A THWART the sunrise of our western day The 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. MAZZINI AND GARIBALDI. 1" IMMORTAL Brethren, saviour spirits fair, Ye were not born to your dear land alone ; Earth's golden book enrolls you as her own, And of your honour all the world is heir. For in an age sunk deep in sordid care Ye still had ears to list a nobler tone, Ye called to loyal hearts, and led them on, Loyal to love, disdainful of despair. The earthquake and the thunder and the fire, These in your godlike struggle clothed you o'er, And clouds confused of lurid vapour dire. Now in the firmament's untroubled floor Shine your twin stars whereto our souls aspire, Moved with the moving heaven for evermore. FOLKESTONE CLIFF. (On the projected Tunnel under the Channel.) " 1 ET there be Sea," God said, and there was Sea ; And in the midst thereof an Island set, Wherein the roving strength of nations met, And reared a rugged fortress of the free. " Take back thy Sea," men say, if men they be Who thus their fathers' perilous years forget, Nor reck the gathering thunder-cloud, which yet Looms large from many an envious tyranny. Gropers for gold, come forth! Let be awhile The stifling dark of your disloyal mine : Here where no feverish fumes the sense beguile, Where reinless waves race by in endless line, Here stand ! Behind you lies the guarded Isle, And on your brows beats free the guardian brine. OK" THE DEATH OP JAMES SPEDDING (Expositor and defender of Francis Bacon). "t*AREWELL, benignant spirit, mild and wise, That wert like some still lake among the hills Of thy fair home ancestral, fed by rills That stir unseen its deep translucencies. Beneath the patient gaze of those calm eyes The inveterate crust of errors and of ills That clings around the past, and clinging kills, Fell off, and earth through thee had fewer lies. To serve one honoured Shade thy life was planned, Riches past by, the noise of fame unheard ; For this not over-rashly may we dare To rank thee with the royal-hearted band Upon whose brows is writ the undying word : Not hate but love this soul ivas born to share \ March, l88l. 1 ovtoi avvixOfiv d\Ad av/j,ipc\uv e(j>w. — Antigone. THE BAY OF LERICI. T EAP, wildly leap, Ligurian sea, Where Shelley on his wandering way, Ere thy embraces set him free, Made his last halt in earthly day. Low on the beach I see it stand, Flecked by the flying shreds of foam, A mourner on that magic strand, Shut up and sealed, his lonely home. Beyond the headland to and fro Italia's mail-clad navies glide; Their gallant crews nor reck nor know That here a poet dwelt and died. 42 THE BAY OF LERICI. Yet if they knew it, might they own Some debt, howe'er remote, to one Whose voice with sterner voices blown About the world, beneath a sun Mocked evermore by human night, Called to the slaves of sloth and fear To wake, to strive, for lo, the light, Unseen, unhoped for, drew anear. No throne of intellectual state Held him from men apart, above; Nor thought nor art nor life could sate That soul whose longing was for love. Earth's ill could cloud but not deform His spirit born for gentler air, As even now a transient storm Marred this bright bay, divinely fair. THE BAY OF LERICI. 43 But lo, the drifted clouds divide, The glad spring sunlight glimmering through, The hurrying waves forget to chide, A rainbow fades into the blue. Ah haply, far from wrath and wrong, Finds he, where never loves grow dim, That answer to his Ariel-song No earthly voice might render him? VALIiOMBROSA. ~C NGLISH wanderer, where Etruria sings to thee Songs of mountain and of forest fair, Each clear stream with its beech-leaf burden brings to thee Days long flown, wherein Milton wandered there. Scenes youth lit for his ardour and his purity Age raised up when his outer eye was dim: Vallombrosa, thy name through all futurity Blends sweet tones with a sweeter tone from him. HIGH STREET FELL, WESTMORELAND. (So called from bearing traces of a Roman road.) 1" IMPERIAL Rome, whose footprint sparsely seen Stamps the wide face of thy devolved demesne, Whose mighty works in mighty ruin hurled Lie rare and crumbling o'er the western world ; Where'er thy circling galleries now no more Echo to beast and man their murderous roar; Or where thy conquering arches high and far Bestride the grey bed of the wondering Gard : — Here too, even here, high on our lonely fell, The paven mountains of thy presence tell. Here where the red deer roam, the curlews cry, The Italian watchword rang beneath the sky: Here in proud march, the indignant dales above, Flashed the bronze birds of Capitolian Jove : 46 HIGH STREET FELL, WESTMORELAND. Here to rapt thought thy Phantom shall arise, A faded light of lordship in her eyes, And by sad gaze in silence eloquent Charge on our race her dread admonishment : " The word of Rome to Britain, queen to queen ; Would'st thou still be? Be not what I have been. What though far nations in the shadowing awe Of thy wide rule lie lapt in peace and law, Earth-girdling armies shall no whit avail In thy dark hour, if in thyself thou fail. Boast not thine arms that stretch so large and long, The heart, the heart — that keep thou pure and strong ! Let not the world, let not God mourn once more A giant empire cankered at the core." The Kingdom of Love. I. THE SANCTUARY. T^HE shepherd lover of old Sicily, Singing sweet song, sweet in all pain's despite, Before the cave that hid his love from sight, Would fain have been the tawny mountain-bee, That on like honey-seeking wing might he Flit in beneath the hanging ivy bright And tremulous fern, and fly to his Delight; Even her for whom his soul longed lovingly. Mine is that bliss and more, for while I roam Through the strange world, my soul one image bears e Of one still cave, one bridal sanctuary, Where Love and Truth and Beauty make their home In one dear Form, and make my home with theirs, Builded for these and me immovably. E II. AN ANNIVERSARY. OWEET heart, this day a year ago our lives for ever blended, We knelt beneath the ancient rite, we vowed the ancient vow : Now joyful hope is merged in joy, and dream by deed transcended, The spring that welled so brightly then, runs a bright river now. AN ANNIVERSARY. 51 That day, from inmost heaven sent, a Spirit stood before us, His wings were lit with rainbow light, and on his brow a star : A wand with dews of Eden wet he bare, and waved it o'er us, At his sweet summons forth we went, and followed him afar. Through wondrous ways, by earthly guides un- trodden, undiscovered, He led us on, in trust and joy still following hand in hand: A thousand happy mated birds amid the wood- land hovered, The very earth with gladness heaved, and gleamed with golden sand. e 2 52 AN ANNIVERSARY. Sometimes within those fairy glades, those dreamy deep recesses, Almost thy gentle heart had failed, so strangely fair they seemed, But evermore new faith grew up to meet new- found caresses, And still within the magic shade the star benignant beamed. It paused amid the pine-forest; we lay in awe and wonder; The birds were hushed ; a silence fell ; we listened long and long : Then softly through that holy place, around, above, and under, Came murmuring on a solemn sound, the pine- wood's secret song. AN ANNIVERSARY. 53 We left the glen, we sought the sun ; but that high hour had brought us A f charm through all our lives to live, an undersong sublime : For Love our lord, our spirit-guide, his master- spell had taught us, The spell he knows and he alone, the spell that conquers Time. III. DAWN. TTOW soft thy rosy fingers fall, Fair Dawn, upon the happy eyes Where Love their lord, their all in all, Dwells and makes glad his votaries ; A steadfast Love, with folded wings That spread to flee no more, no more, But fan with mystic murmurings The deathless flame whose seed they bore. How mild the sounds of morning come, Whether around some rural bower, Or even the city's gathering hum Is hallowed by the magic hour. DAWN. 55 Her fairy head has felt the Dawn, And stirs, unwakened, till it rest, By sweet unconscious impulse drawn, On the broad pillow of my breast. Ah, gladness pure as moorland dew ! What golden word might e'er express The still deep joy that thrills me through, Unfathomable tenderness ? Two winged presences divine Above our guarded rest maintain Their interwoven watch benign, To link the hours with charmed chain. We feel amid the silence deep Their brooding plumage gently move; Love laid us on the wings of Sleep, And Sleep has borne us back to Love. IV. THE ROSE. A ROSE I bear close-cherished in my breast, Nurtured on earth, but all her being fair So bathed in dews of heaven and heavenly air That of sweet magic is she grown possest, In new unfolding petals ever drest, And ever breathing some new fragrance rare ; Whereto my heart must fondly still repair To feed my inmost life and tenderest. Yet through all varying charm my starry rose Denies no whit her dear identity. One peerless perfume hers, one crimson flame Through infinite new birth of beauty glows; Through all love past and all sweet love to be, Changeless in change, for evermore the same. V. THE RIVER OP LOVE. T the River from the blue hills welling, Stream of Love that ever stronger rolls, Stronger, sweeter, higher and higher swelling, Bears for ever our entwined souls. Close embraced in bonds no shock can sunder Fare we, well content whate'er befall : Let the changeful skies or smile or thunder: Storm and sunshine — we have heart for all. 58 THE RIVER OF LOVE. Somewhere, well we know, in ambush lying Right athwart our River, near or far, Gorged with hopes engulfed, our hope defying, Death, the sandbank, rears his gloomy bar. Then shall our brave River, swiftlier sweeping, Burst the bar and o'er it bear us free, Out and onward to the Ocean leaping, Out and on to Love's eternal sea. Versions FROM Homer's Iliad and virgil's aeneid. THE ANGERING OP ACHILLES. (Homer's Iliad i. 1-305.) /^VF the ruinous wrath of Achilles thy song, O Goddess, shall tell, Wherethrough to the army Achaian unnumbered sorrows befell, And heroes many and strong were sent down to the Lord of the dead, Ghosts, while the carrion birds and the dogs on their carcases fed, From the hour when sundering strife — thus Zeus was achieving his plan — Of the monarch of men, Agamemnon and godlike Achilles began. 62 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. What God was the cause of their strife ? Even He whom Leto of yore Bare unto Zeus. He it was who sent in his anger sore Plague thro' the host of Achaians; their warriors wasted away For the wrong that the king Agamemnon to Chryses wrought on the day When he came to the ships of Achaians to ransom his daughter dear. In his hands were the wreaths of the God, of Apollo the Far-darter, Bound on a golden wand ; and he prayed to the host in his pain : All the Achaians he prayed, but chief the Atri- dae twain : " Children of Atreus, and ye, well-grcaved Achaians, hear ! THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 63 Unto you may the Lords of Olympus give up to be spoil of your spear This city of Priam ye war with, and bring you in joy to your land ; But loose ye the child of my love, and take her price from my hand, Fearing the Son of the Highest, Apollo the Lord of the Bow.'' Then fain had they honoured the priest and taken the price even so : But the thing displeased Agamemnon, and fiercely he drave him away. " Never again, old man, let me find thee hence- forth from this day, Lest the wreaths and the wand of Apollo avail not to shield thee from ill. Her will I never give back; in my palace abiding still 64 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. Growing old in the Argive land far away from her home she shall bide, Weaving the woof at the loom and sharing my couch by my side. Go, and arouse not my wrath, that no harm light here on thy head." He spake, and the old man obeyed, and past from his presence in dread, Silently on by the beach, by the thundering surge of the sea; And he called on his Lord, on Apollo, and prayed to him fervently : " God of the silver bow, in whom Chryse and Killa delight. Hear me, O Sminthian Prince, that in Tenedos rulest with might ! Lo, if I ever have reared thee a shrine that seemed fair in thine eyes, THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 65 Ever have burnt on thine altar a savoury sacrifice, Thigh-bones of bulls and of goats — fulfil me this thing that I pray ! Be my tears on the host of Achaians avenged by thine arrows to-day ! " So prayed he, and Phoebus Apollo gave ear to the old man's cry. Wroth in his heart he arose, and went down from Olympus on high : On his back were his bow and his quiver, the arrows rattled aloud. Dark as the night he descended, and sate him apart from the crowd Of the ships and the army around : then he shot, and the silver bow Clanged with a terrible clang as the arrow bounded below. F 66 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. First on the mules and the dogs and next on the warriors sped Shaft upon shaft, and more thickly burnt ever the pyres of the dead. Nine days long from Apollo descended his darts thro' the fleet; On the tenth day Achilles arose, and he summoned the people to meet. White-armed Here the Goddess had set this thought in his breast, For she grieved for the Danaan host when she saw how they fell in the pest. Then when they gathered in council, Achilles arose, and he said : "Back must we travel, methinks, Agamemnon, back to our home; For who shall be left with his life when both battle and pestilence come ? THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 67 Lo, let us ask of a see'r, a prophet who speaketh aright — Yea, a diviner of dreams, for of God come dreams of the night — Let him say whether Phoebus Apollo hath lacked from us aught of his due, Prayer or sacrifice haply, that thus his anger we rue. Sheep then and goats we will give him if these he lacketh, to burn On his altar, if so from our comrades his terrible arrows he turn." Thus having spoken he sate. Then Kalchas rose in his place, Kalchas, Thestor's son, a diviner the best of his race; Present and past he knew, and the things that were fated to be : f 2 68 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. The Achaian ships he had guided to Ilios over the sea All of his subtle divining, the gift of Apollo his Lord. Now he arose in the midst, and of goodwill uttered his word : " The cause of the wrath of Apollo thou bidd'st me, Achilles, declare. Therefore that cause will I tell. But do thou first pledge me and swear That with tongue and with arm thou wilt aid me if one shall be wroth at my tale, One whom the Argives give ear to, a chieftain of mighty avail. Heavy the hand of a king, if his wrath on a weaker alight, For though for the day he refrain him and smother his anger from sight, THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 69 Yet deep in his heart it abideth and lieth in wait to do harm, Tarrying long. Say then, dost thou pledge me the shield of thine arm ? " Then swift-foot Achilles made answer : " Say out Heaven's will without fear. By the God whom thou servest I swear it, Apollo to Zeus most dear, None, while I live on the earth and look forth with these eyes on the light, By the hollow ships shall come nigh thee, O Kalchas, to do thee despite : No, none of the Danaan army, not though Agamemnon be he, Who far above all the Achaians the chiefest avows him to be." Then the prophet took heart when he heard him, and spake at Achilles' desire : 70 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. " Hecatomb nowise nor vow is the cause of Apollo's ire, But the wrong to the priest of his altar, whose child Agamemnon hath ta'en And denieth the prayer of her father to yield her for ransom again. Therefore the Archer Apollo hath sent these woes, and will send, Ruthless, nor ever this evil among our host have an end, Till we give back the maid to her father unbought, without ransom or fine, And a hecatomb send unto Chryse ; so turn we the anger divine." Thus having spoken he sate. Then arose Agamemnon in ire ; Filled was his heart with his fury, his eyes as the flame of a fire. THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 71 Terribly looked he on Kalchas, and spake to him : " Prophet of ill, Never a good thing yet hast thou told me, for ever thy will Evil to prophesy only, and now thou must rise and divine How the wrath of Apollo is kindled because Chrysei's is mine, And I took not her price from her father but held her in honoured thrall. Yea so, and I deem Clytemnestra, the wedded wife of my hall, No whit better in beauty or wisdom or skill of her hand. Yet, for all this, will I yield her, if thus doth our welfare demand, Loth that the people should perish : but give me a prize in her place, 72 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. That I be not alone of Achaians bereft of such token of grace. For now ye behold me dishonoured and lorn of the prize that I won." Then answered him swift-foot Achilles, " Thou famous man, Atreus' son, Covetous heart above all ! what know we of spoil in our store Whence to allow thee a prize? All the spoil was apportioned before, Not to be now begged back. To Apollo the maiden restore, And to thee will the army Achaian pay recompense manifold more, Whensoever shall Zeus to our onset some town of the Trojans assign." Then the lord Agamemnon made answer " Not thus, though all valour be thine, THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 73 Not thus, thou godlike Achilles, thy word shall outwit me by guile. Dost thou think thou shalt keep thine own guerdon, and I sit dishonoured the while, Bidding me lightly restore her? Nay, if the Achaians allot Recompense meet to my mind, not a meaner thing, well : but if not, Then will I seize it myself, nor take heed tho' the owner be thou — Thou or Odysseus or Aias, nor reck for the wrath on his brow. This for our after providing : now launch we a ship on the deep, Man her with rowers to row, and her hold with a hecatomb heap, And send on her fair-faced Chrysei's; and one of our chieftains withal, 74 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. Idomeneus, Aias, Odysseus; or, yet more noble than all, Even thyself, O Achilles, shalt order the journey and lead, Giving sacrifice meet to the God, that the folk from his anger be freed." Grim was the gaze of Achilles as straightway he answered again : " O in shamelessness clad as a garment, most greedy and guileful of men, Shall yet an Achaian be found who for thy sake shall journey or fight? For no quarrel of mine with the Trojans came I : they had touched not my right : Neither oxen nor horses of mine had they ever yet harried for spoil, Nor ever in populous Phthia, my land of the bountiful soil, THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 75 Wasted the fruits of the earth; for between their country and mine Stretch many shadowy mountains and roaring billows of brine. But thee, O thou dog-face, we follow, and fight with the spearmen of Troy To avenge Menelaus thy brother and win for thee honour and joy. Nought of all this hast thou recked, yea, now from my keeping wouldst tear The meed the Achaians assigned me, the meed of sore travail I bare. Ay, and whene'er the Achaians have stormed some fortress at bay, These hands bear the brunt of the battle, but when we take shares of the prey, Ampler by far is thy portion, while I some remnant of spoil, 7 6 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. Little but dear, carry back for reward of my warfare and toil. Now with my ships will I homeward, for this seemeth better by far Than here in dishonour abiding to win thee wealth from the war." Then the lord Agamemnon made answer : "Yea flee, if so falleth thy will. Never thine aid will I crave ; there be others to honour me still, Zeus above all. Of all kings thou art ever most hateful to me : Ever thy joy is in strife and in battle. Tho' mighty thou be, God's gift surely is this. Now home with thy Myrmidons hie : Lord it there among them. Of thine anger right heedless am I. THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 77 Yea and I promise thee this: since the God Chrysei's demands, Her in my ship send I back ; but instead will I seize with my hands Even thy prize, Briseis, and thus shalt thou know to thy pain How I am greater than thou, and none else shall defy me again." He said, and Achilles in anguish made question within with his heart Whether with drawn sword rising to scatter the Council apart And slay Agamemnon before them, or whether his wrath to assuage. Thus while he doubted distraught, and unsheathed the great sword in his rage, Down came Athene from heaven, and laid her grasp on his hair — 78 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. White-armed Here had sent her, for both those kings were her care. None but Achilles beheld her — none else might the Goddess espy — And he turned him about in amazement, and knew the dread light in her eye. And he spake to her: "Daughter of Zeus, where- fore comest thou hither to-day? Is it to look on the pride of Atrides ? Now this will I say — Ay, and my word shall be deed — for his scorn shall he yield me his life." But the bright-eyed Goddess made answer: " Full fain would I soften the strife, If haply to me thou wilt hearken, for now am I come from above, Sent by the white-armed Here — of both ye twain she hath love. THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 79 Draw not thy sword from his sheath, but rebuke with upbraiding the king. Lo, I foretell thee a truth whereof time the fulfil- ment shall bring; Threefold gifts shall be thine for this wrong's sake ; but hearken us now ! " Then swift-foot Achilles made answer: "The bidding that Here and thou Lay on a man, must he hearken, tho' fiercely the wrath in him burn. Whoso hath hearkened the Gods, unto him give they hearing in turn." He said, and the weight of his hand on the silver hilt of his sword Stayed, and thrust back to the sheath, for he hearkened Athene's word. She to Olympus departed, and entered the house of her Sire. 8o THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES, But fierce was Achilles' rebuke, as he spake once more in his ire : " Heavy with wine, with the face of a dog and the heart of a hare ! Never to arm thee for battle among thy folk dost thou dare, Never with princes Achaian from ambush to leap on the foe. Better it booteth by far thro' the host of thy people to go Seizing the meeds of their honour, if any withstand thee in aught, King that devourest thy people 1 — a people whose manhood is naught, Else had this wrong been thy last. Now hearken the oath that I swear. Yea, by this staff in my hand will I swear it, that never shall bear THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 8 1 Leaves neither twigs, for the mountains that nursed it may know it no more. Since the bronze of the axe hath bereft it of bark and of leaves that it wore, And the sons of Achaians in judgment, that guard the traditions divine, Wield it on high ; therefore mighty the oath that is sworn on this sign. Verily cometh a time when on all the Achaians too late Longing shall fall for Achilles, and then — tho' thy anguish be great When thou seest thy people around thee by man- slaying Hector's hand Dying in heaps — not a whit shall thy impotent succour withstand : Nay, but with anger remorseful the heart in thy breast shall be torn G 82 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. That what time thy best man was beside thee thou dealtest him nought but thy scorn." Thus said Achilles in wrath, and the gold-studded staff to the ground Hurled, and sat down ; and in wrath Agamemnon fronting him frowned. Then did the King of the Pylians, the clear-voiced Nestor," arise. Sweeter than honey his speech; and already had past from his eyes Two generations of men, and had left him king of the third. Moved by good will to the chiefs he arose, and thus uttered his word: " Verily now to Achaians there cometh a ter- rible woe. Priam and Priam's children and all that folk of the foe THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 83 Now shall have joy in their hearts, when they hear of the anger to-day Risen between you twain, our first in the council and fray. Nay, be advised ; ye are younger than I ; and yet mightier men Once were my fellows, and scorned not my words : yea never again Men shall I see such as Dryas, and great Poly- phemus of old, Kaineus, Peirithoiis, Theseus, the mightiest whose deeds have been told. Mightiest were they themselves and aye with the mightiest fought — Monsters wild of the mountains — and gloriously brought them to naught. These were my fellows of old, when I came out of Pylos afar, g 2 84 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. Came, for they called me to come, and I fought my best in their war. There is none might contend with those heroes of all in the world of to-day; And all of them heeded my counsel, nor turned from my warning away. So do ye also give heed. Therefore thou, Agamem- non, refrain This damsel, the prize that we gave him, to wrest from Achilles again; Neither do thou, O Achilles, be fain to contend with our Head. Never as yet was there king on whom Zeus such glory hath shed. Mighty in battle art thou, and the son of a mother divine, But more are the men that he leads, and his power is greater than thine. THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. 85 Therefore to cease from his anger alike Agamem- non I pray, And Achilles the shield of Achaians, who beareth the brunt of the fray." Then made answer the King Agamemnon : " Yea, father, thou speakest aright, But this man over all would prevail, over all he would brandish his might, Master and lord over all ; but his pride may no longer be borne : Do the Gods, that have made him a warrior, for this give us up to his scorn ? " Then answered in anger Achilles : " A coward and slave should I be If in all thy behests I obeyed thee ; for this seek another than me. Thus further I bid thee to hearken, and ponder the word that I say : 86 THE ANGERING OF ACHILLES. Neither on thee nor another my hand shall be lifted to slay, For sake of the damsel ye gave me ; ye gave, and ye take her away. But of all my possessions beside, by my black swift ship by the sea, Nothing of these shalt thou plunder or seize in defiance of me. Nay, if thou darest, essay it, that these men may see it and fear : Swiftly and surely thy life-blood shall gush round the point of my spear." Then from the strife of their speech they arose, and a little forbore, And all the assembly Achaian was scattered abroad on the shore. II. THE ENMITY OF JUNO. (Virgil's Aencid i. 1-156.) A RIMS and the man I sing who first from Troy To Italy and coasts Lavinian came, Predestined exile, over land and sea Tossed to and fro long years by power divine, To glut fierce Juno's unforgetful ire ; Long too in war bested, till he might found His City, and his Gods ancestral bear To Latium, whence arose the Latin race, And Alban sires, and walls of sovran Rome.' Tell me the cause, O Muse, for what wrong done To her divinity, what old offence, Heaven's Queen so drave a man in duteous life 88 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. Pre-eminent, through countless toils and woe : Dwells wrath so deep in hearts of heavenly line ? There was an ancient City, Carthage called, Daughter of Tyre, to Italy afar Looking across the sea, and Tiber mouth ; A City of wealth and fierce in works of war. Juno, men say, above all other lands Loved this, and ranked it before Samos' self; Here was her armour's shrine, her chariot here : These walls, if Fate in anywise allow, Even then she nursed to be the nations' head. Yet had she heard how from the Trojan blood A seed should spring to smite the Tyrian towers, And thence for Libya's ruin should go forth A race imperial, terrible in war : So ran the doom of Fate. Thereof in fear, And mindful of that war her hand of old For her beloved Argos waged at Troy — THE ENMITY OF JUNO. 89 Ay, bitter memories of the ancient feud Wounded her yet, that in her inmost soul Deep-stored remained undying — Paris' choice, Her beauty slighted, ravished Ganymede, And all the hated tribe. — Stung by these griefs Far off from Latium, tossed from sea to sea, She drave the Trojan remnant left to live By fell Achilles and the Danaan host: Long years they roamed the seas, their destined doom. Such toil it took to found the Roman race. Scarce out of sight of the Sicilian shore They spread sail gladly for the open main, Dashing the salt foam from their brazen prows, When Juno, bearing still within her breast Deep-driven her irremediable wound, Thus with herself: "Must I from mine emprise Hold baffled, nor avail to bar the road . 90 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. That leads the Trojan king to Italy? The Fates forsooth forbid me ! Did not Pallas For one man's crime, Oilcan Ajax' frenzy, Blast Argos' fleet and whelm the crews in death? She darting from the clouds Jove's flying fire Scattered the ships and tore the sea with storm ; Ajax, flames gasping from his cloven breast, She in a hurricane caught up and hurled On deadly rocks, impaled. But I, who move The Queen of Heaven, Jove's sister and his wife. With this one tribe these many years wage war. Can any then still worship Juno's name, Or grace in prayer her altars with a gift?" Such thought revolving in her heart afire Unto the storm-clouds' realm the Goddess came, The teeming home of wild winds of the South, Aeolia. Here, within a cavern huge, O'er roaring gales and tempests turbulent THE ENMITY OF JUNO. 91 King Aeolus bears sway, and curbs their fury With prison-house and bonds. They round their den Ever with awful murmur of the mount Range wrathful : Aeolus the while above In his high citadel the sceptre wields, Their rage restraining : else, but for his guard, Sea, earth, the very firmament of heaven, In one wild ruin rapt, their wings would sweep. That to prevent, the almighty Father's will Pent them with piled hills in caverns dark, A king ordaining, who by hest should know Both when to tighten rein and when relax. To whom thus Juno suppliant : " Aeolus, For that the Sire of Gods and King of men To thee gave powers to rouse the seas with storm Or calm them — mark, a race mine ancient foe Sails the Tyrrhenian sea to Italy. 92 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. Troy and her conquered Gods they with them bear. Rouse then thy winds, whelm me the fleet in waves Or drive disject, strewing the sea with dead. Twice seven nymphs are mine, all passing fair, But one above all fairest, Dei'opea: Her will I make thy bride in wedlock sure, With thee, for this high service, to abide Thine own, and of fair issue make thee sire." To whom thus Aeolus : " Thy task it is, O Queen, to well consider what thou wilt, Nor sin for me thy hests to undertake. Thou gainest me this realm, if realm it be, Through thee I join the feast of Gods, through thee The storm-rack and the tempest know me lord." He said, and turning, on the hollow hill Smote with his spear : the Winds in serried troop THE ENMITY OF JUNO. 93 Rushed forth, and blew in hurricane through the world. East wind and South together on the deep Were fall'n, and ever-stormy Africus ; Up from the bottom torn they rolled the waves Gigantic : noise of cries and cracking sheets Mixed with their roar. Sunshine and vault of heaven Forsook the Trojans' eyes ; o'er all the deep Darkness descending brooded. Pole to pole Thundered, the dim air with quick-following flames Flashed quivering; Death was there, Death nigh at hand. Aeneas shuddering groaned, and unto heaven His hands up-stretching cried in agony: "Ah happy, tenfold happy, ye who fell Beneath Troy's walls, before your fathers' eyes! Ah thou the Danaans' bravest, Tydeus' son, 94 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. Wherefore had I not died on Ilium's plain, And yielded up my life beneath thy hand, Beneath thy good arm yielding my last breath There where Achilles' spear laid Hector low, Where great Sarpedon lies, where Simois' wave Shields, helms, and bones of warriors whirls along?" While yet he cried, a shrill blast of the North Smote on the sail adverse, and higher still Lashed the high waves : the oars beneath the strain Snapped, the prow swerved, and left the ship's broad side Bare to the breakers. Heaped on high to heaven Came the huge mount of water towering on. Some on the wave's top hang: some far below Behold the bare earth mid the yawning sea And mad surf boiling with the bottom sand. THE ENMITY OF JUNO. 95 Three ships the South wind caught and on hid rocks — A monstrous ridged reef Italians call The Altars — hurled them: three the East wind drave Into the Syrtes' shallows on the lee — Sight miserable! — and in the shoal entombed Heaped them with sand. Another ship, that bare Faithful Orontes and his Lycian crew, Before Aeneas' eyes a whelming sea Precipitate descending smote astern, Headlong the steersman hurling; but the ship Thrice in her place the violent eddy whirled, Then all engulfed: within the monstrous pool Swam scattered drowning men, and timbers torn, And warriors' arms, and wasted wealth of Troy — Now Ilioneus' good ship, Achates' now, Abas', Aletes', the all-conquering storm 96 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. O'ercame; through starting seams their shattered hulls Gaped miserably, and drank in the draught of death. Meantime the roaring ruin of the main, The storms unchained, the hid sea-deeps uptorn, Neptune sore wroth perceived, and o'er the waves Raised his calm head. He saw the Trojan fleet Hurled all abroad and by the angry heavens Ruinously rent ; nor failed he to unveil Juno's vindictive craft. He summoned straight East wind and West, and thus upbraiding spake : " What ? Trust ye then so far your boasted birth ? Dare ye, unbidden of my sovran hest, Raise this huge coil, and earth and heaven confound ? Ye winds whom I — but better boots it now Still the vext seas. Another time offending THE ENMITY OF JUNO. 97 With other penalty ye rue the wrong. Begone, and to your king this message bear : To me, not him, was given by primal lot The trident stern and empire of the sea. The enormous rocks, O winds, your dwelling- place, He holds his own : therein let Aeolus Glory in his realm, and rule your prison barred." He spake, and lo, or e'er his speech was done, He calmed the swollen seas, the gathered clouds He chased away, and brought the sunlight back. Cymothoe and Triton to the ships Address them, and with strain from the jagged reef Thrust off the keels: Neptune himself no less Lifts them with succouring trident, carves their way Through the huge quicksands, smooths the trou- bled waves, H 98 THE ENMITY OF JUNO. And on light wheels o'er the calm ocean glides. As when in some great throng hath strife arisen, And through the savage mob runs sudden wrath, Stones fly and brands — their frenzy serves them arms — Yet if their eyes perchance some man espy For duty and true service done revered, They hold their peace, and stand with listening ears Attentive; till his guiding words of peace Soothe their hearts' storm: so all the outrageous sea Fell silent, when the Father driving forth Beneath the clear sky homeward wheeled his steeds, And with loose rein sped on his flying car. III. THE PLIGHT FROM TROY. (Virgil's Aeneid ii. 624-804.) HT HEN saw I Ilium sink in gulfs of fire, And from her base uptorn Neptunian Troy. As when on hills the vying husbandmen Strive some old oak to o'erthrow, into his midst Smit inly with redoubled strokes of steel: With tremulous leaves the tree at every shock Nods quivering; then, by iterated wounds Quite vanquished, with one last life-uttering groan, Along the rent hillside in ruin falls. I left the tower, and by convoy divine Through flames, through foes I gat me ; foemen's darts H 2 IOO THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. Of me flew wide, and shrinking flames drew back. But when to my old home I won my way, And first my father to some mountain refuge Fain would have borne, "Let me not live," he cried, "To mourn in exile for our murdered Troy. Nay, ye whose blood is yet of age undrained, Your strength unworn, fly ye, and dare to live. Had the Gods willed indeed my longer life, My home they would have saved. Enough for me One ruin to have seen, my Ilium's fall. Let me lie here, and bid me one farewell. Myself by my own act will find a death. The foe may spoil, but yet will pity me : A light loss is the losing of a tomb. Too long already, all unloved of Heaven, I drag my useless years, since these blind eyes The Thunderer, Sire of Gods and King of men, THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. I or Scathed with the lighting's breath, and seared with fire." He said, nor swerved : vainly with torrent tears Myself, my wife, my child, and all his house, Besought him that he merge not all in ruin, And by his act drag down the impending death. Still to his choice he kept, still clung to home. Once more I sprang to arms — what else was left ? Once more in anguish prayed a warrior's death. " Leave thee and flv ? Father, and hast thou deemed Thus of thy son ? " I cried. " O impious thought ! If Heaven's hard sentence hath our race con- demned To utter extirpation, none exempt, If thy wild purpose hold, and thou must hurl Thyself and thine to heap Troy's funeral pyre, The way is plain, what hindrance ? Pyrrhus comes, 102 THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. Drenched in the stream of butchered Priam's blood, Pyrrhus, whose sword beside the altar's foot Slaughters the son, and o'er the son the sire. Was it for this, sweet Mother, thou didst lead me Through foes, through flames — to see in this dear home My sire, my wife, my child lie massacred ? To arms ! their last day to the conquered calls. Give me my battle back, give me the foe ! At least not unavenged this day we die." Thus yet again I girt me with my sword, And in my shield resumed had thrust my arm. And out of doors all desperate made my way, When lo, my wife had flung her at my feet Clasping my knees and stretching to my arms Our child, lulus. " If to certain deatli Thou goest forth," she cried, " take us with thee ! THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. 1 03 But if not hopeless utterly, then stay, Guard thine own home ! What shall befall thy child, Thy father, and the wife once called thine own ? " So loud she wailed that all the dismal house Rang to her cry; when lo, a sudden sign, An omen and a miracle of heaven, Smote us amazed. Before his parents' eyes, Beneath their hands, on young lulus' head Blazed a light tongue of flame, and his soft hair Crowned with innocuous light and bathed his brows. Fain had our terror from that darling head Dashed off the fire and quenched the holy sign. More wise my sire refrained us ; he to heaven Raised his blind eyes and hands, and spake in joy; " Almighty Jove, if prayer may reach thine ear, Look on us ; this sufficeth : if our souls 104 THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. Prove duteous, grant thine aid, this sign confirm." He said, and suddenly from the eastern heaven Pealed thunder, and clown-gliding through the gloom, Trailing his bright-lit brand, ran forth a star. Far o'er the town the pilot meteor slid, Track'd by his sulfurous furrow through the night, And in the woods of Ida plunged his ray. Then, then, my father yielded ; to the heavens Again he turned, and called upon the gods, And to that holy star did reverence. <: No more I tarn- ; where ye lead, I go. Gods of our fathers, save us in this child. Yours is this augury : in your ward is Troy. Son, thou hast conquered ; where thou wilt, lead on. Even as he ceased, more loud the on-rolling fire THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. 105 Roared, and the torrid blast breathed yet more nigh. " Up, father, up," I cried ; " my shoulders mount ; No pain to me such toil ; whate'er befall, Let both one peril find, one safety both. Behind my footsteps follow wife and child. Ye of my household mark ; there is a mound Outside the gateway, and a lonely fane Built long ago to Ceres, thereanigh A cypress, from old time a tree of awe; Hither from diverse quarters tend we all. Thy hand, my sire, must bear our sanctities, Our household Gods ancestral, not to me Permitted, in such sea of carnage stained, Till I may cleanse me in the running stream." Thus saying I clothed on my shoulders broad And my bowed neck with tawny lion-skin, Lifting thereon my father ; close behind 106 THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. Creiisa followed, and with steps uneven Our child, that wound his little hand in mine. On through the dark we held. My heart, but now By all the Danaan battle undismayed, Sank, and at every gust, each trivial sound, Trembled for them I led, for him I bore. And now I neared the gate, and deemed us safe, When suddenly the tramp of thronging feet Smote on my ear. " Fly, son," my father cried, " They come. I catch the gleam of sword and shield." Thereat I turned oblique and left the track — Ay me! for some dark Power of will malign Reft me of sense. Creiisa in that hour, (O crowning woe of all that cruel night!) Or wearied out, or wandering from the way, THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. 107 Passed from our sight. Then only when we reached The place appointed, Ceres' hallowed home, I turned, I sought her; all the rest were there, She only absent. Gods alike and men Delirious I upbraided. Back I sped, Leaving my comrades charge of sire and son, Back to the naming town. I drew my sword, Ready once more for death, once more to range Troy's wasted ways and join my doom with hers. First to the gate's dark threshold, crossed but now, I gat me, and our footsteps backward, traced, Shuddering; the very silence shook my heart. Thence to our home. The Danaans held it now. To the roof's top rolled up the hungry flames Exultant, wildly flaring to the wind. Still on, to Priam's house, the heart of Troy, 108 THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. I wandered. There, in corridors forlorn Of Juno's temple, watched beside their prey Phoenix and fell Ulysses, guardians grim. Here, pile on pile, Troy's treasure all around Lay heaped at hazard — bowls of massy gold, Rich robes, and festal lables of the Gods Snatched from the burning shrines. Children were there, And women's quivering forms, war's living spoil. I sought the streets, I filled them with my cries, Reckless through deep despair, and called her name With fruitless iteration o'er and o'er. From door to door I raved, and found no rest; When lo, the phantom form of her I soughtj Larger than human, rose before my eyes. I saw, and stood amazed, and all my hair Stiffened; my voice clave stilled to my throat. The vision spake, my troubled soul was stilled : THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. 109 " O my sweet husband, what wild grief is thine ? Not without God's will come these things to be. That thou bear hence thy wife Fate's fixed decree Forbids, and He who rules Olympus' realm. Thee long exile awaits ; wide waste of sea Thy keels must plough; then shalt thou win a land Far in the sunset, where thro' fertile fields With kindly waters Lydian Tiber winds. There all good hap, a realm and royal wife, Are thine by lot. Weep not for me, thy love : No haughty home of robber Myrmidons Shall claim to hold in bonds, a captive slave, Dardan Creiisa, wife of Venus' son. Only the Gods' great Mother holds me here. And now farewell, love thou thy child and mine." She said, and while I wept and from full heart Fain, fain had answered, faded into air. HO THE FLIGHT FROM TROY. Thrice strove I sore to fold her to my breast, Thrice, clasped in vain, the phantom fled my arms, Like the light wind or wings of flying sleep. Meantime the long night waning wore away. Back to my friends I fared, much wondering there So great a host to find, Troy's remnant youth For flight and exile gathered, piteous throng. From all the conquered land they flowed and flocked Ready with heart and hand to seek the shore Unknown, where I might lead, beyond the sea. And now the star of morning o'er the ridge Of Ida rose, and led the springing day. Around the gates of Troy the Danaan guards Thronged vigilant ; all hope of help was gone. I rose, and raised my sire, and sought the hills. IV. THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. (Virgil's Aeneid viii. 608-731.) ~\J OW from on high amid the clouds of heaven Venus descending came, and to her son, Alone beyond the river far retired In a deep glen, with welcome words drew nigh : " Behold the promise by my craftsman lord Accomplished ; proud Laurentium to defy And Turnus' strength thou with this gift, my son, Misdoubt not": then, first clasped in his embrace, Beneath an oak she laid the glittering arms. He, glad at heart, o'er that high gift divine, Unsatisfied with gazing, ran his eyes. Much marvelled he, and handled o'er and o'er 112 THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. The crested helm that shot terrific fires, The fateful sword, the corslet mailed with bronze, Blood-red and vast, as when a kindling cloud Burns in the low sun's beam and flames afar. The greaves he viewed, smooth work of gold refined, The spear, and matchless miracle of the Shield. Thereon had Mulciber, the Lord of fire, Prescient of ages prophesied, inwrought The destined triumphs of the race of Rome. There lived Ascanius' line, and war on war. First, the she-wolf within the cave of Mars Couched, and the twin babes round her fostering teats Played fearless; she her backward neck would bend Fondling, and mould with lambent tongue their limbs. THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. 113 Hard by, the lawless rape of Sabine maids In open congress of the Roman games Was figured, and the sudden war arose, Tatius and his stern Cures matched with Rome. Then, all their battle ended, lo, the kings Erect in arms before Jove's altar stood, Caught the swine's blood in cups, and sware a league. Next these the hurrying cars asunder tare Mettus — false Alban, thou hadst earned such doom. At Tullus' hest his mangled limbs were borne Wide through the wood, the brambles dripped with gore. There too with mighty leaguer mustering round Porsenna stood, and the free City bade Take back the banished Tarquin, but her sons In liberty's defence had leapt to arms. 1 1 1 4 THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS Threatenings and wrath he breathed, for lo, the bridge Behind Horatius whirled in ruin down. Here Cloelia burst her bonds and swam the stream. Here Manlius high on the Tarpeian hill, Above the palace-thatch of Romulus, Before the Capitol and shrine of Jove Kept guard; along the golden colonnade With silver wings the bird of warning flew, Sounding alarm — the Gaul within the gate. Amid the thicket swarmed the on-coming Gauls, Safe in the darkness, the dim boon of Night. Golden their flowing hair, their vesture gold. Striped shone their cloaks ; gold ringed their milky necks ; Long shields they bare, and brandished Alpine i spears. THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. 115 Here in their mystic dance the Salii moved, And wild half-naked priests of Lupercal: There were the fiamen's fillets, there the shields That fell from heaven : and in slow-rolling cars Chaste matrons bare the sanctities of Rome. Far hence were wrought the deep Plutonian realm, And dread Tartarean torture of the damned. Beneath a rock that threatened deadly fall Hung Catiline; on the other side no less The Furies' vengeful faces prest him hard. Elsewhere, in bliss untroubled, dwelt apart Souls of the just, and Cato gave them law. Lastly, at large through all the shield there ran The figured semblance of a swelling sea : A golden sea with crests of silver foam, And silver dolphins swam in circling chase. Herein the bronze-beaked fleets, the Actian war, Rode manifest; with ordered battle-line 1 2 Ii6 THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. Leucate glowed, and all the waves of gold. Here, leading on the hosts of Italy — Senate and People, Gods of Hearth and Heaven — High on the deck the God-sent Caesar stood. Round his glad temples trembled tongues of flame, And o'er his head shone forth his father's star. Elsewhere, with Heaven and Heaven's good wind to aid, His armament Agrippa towering led ; Bright on his forehead gleamed his naval crown. On the other side adverse, Antonius armed Barbaric powers and warriors multiform, Victor triumphant from the Red Sea shore And the far lands of Morning : in his train Rolled all the East from farthest Bactrian bound To Egypt; ay, and Egypt's queen, his shame. There clashed the enormous battle, there the sea, THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. 117 Torn up with oars pulled home and plunging prows, Foamed over all his face ; almost it seemed As though the unseated Cyclads, isle on isle, Mountain on mountain hurled along the deep, Shocked each with each, terrific tournament : So huge the towered galleons teemed with men Thronging, and from their hands flew iron darts Or fiery; all the flood ran red with gore. With native timbrels' clang the Egyptian queen Roused in the midst her battle, nor beheld, Nor yet beheld, behind her head the Asp. Lo there the Dog Anubis and all forms Of brutish Gods against Neptunus armed And Venus and Minerva. Mavors there, Graven in iron, raged, and in the air Hung the dire Furies, and with riven robe, Her symbol, Discord walked the murderous throng. 1 1 8 THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. Behind, with bloody scourge, Bellona came. Aloft, Apollo from his Actian shrine Gazed over all, and bent his awful bow. Thereat in terror all the Egyptian power, Arabia, India, Saba, turned to flee. Lo, here the queen herself invoked the winds, Slacked all the sheets, and spread her flying sail. Her mid the carnage, pale with coming death, The Fireking fashioned, borne by wind and wave. On the other side Nilus, a giant form, Lamenting sore, opening his bosom wide, Spread all his robe and called the conquered home To his blue breast anil shelter of his stream. But through Rome's walls in triple triumph borne Caesar to all the Gods of Italy Three hundred shrines made holy evermore. With glad applause and games the city rang. In all the shrines a choir of matrons stood, THE ARMOUR OF AENEAS. 119 Altars in all, and slaughtered sacrifice. Himself in Phoebus' glittering gate he sat, Acknowledging the gifts of all the world. Beneath, the vanquished hosts in long array, Diverse in tongue and vesture, wound along. Here Mulciber had moulded Nomad tribes And Afric's loose-girt warriors, Leleges, And Carians, and Geloni arrow-armed. There moved Euphrates, now with milder waves, And there the Morini, farthest folk of men ; Araxes' flood that never brooked a bridge, And horned Rhine and tameless Dahae there. All these on Vulcan's shield, his mother's gift, Aeneas saw, and marvelled, what they meant Unknowing; nathless on the imaged scenes Well pleased he gazed, and to his shoulder hove The fame and fortune of his sons to be. ODE ON" THE DEATH OF GENERAL GORDON. /\N through the Libyan sand Rolls ever, mile on mile, League on long league, cleaving the rainless land, Fed by no friendly wave, the immemorial Nile. ii. Down through the cloudless air, Uiulimmed, from heaven's sheer height, Bend their inscrutable gaze, austere and bare, In long-proceeding pomp, the stars of Libyan night. THE DEATH OF GENERAL GORDON. 121 ill. Beneath the stars, beside the unpausing flood, Earth trembles at the wandering lion's roar ; Trembles again, when in blind thirst of blood Sweep the wild tribes along the startled shore. rv. They sweep and surge and struggle, and are gone : The mournful desert silence reigns again, The immemorial River rolleth on, The ordered stars gaze blank upon the plain. v. O awful Presence of the lonely Nile, O awful Presence of the starry sky, Lo, in this little while Unto the mind's true-seeing inward eye 122 0A> THE DEATH OF There hath arisen there Another haunting Presence as sublime, As great, as sternly fair ; Yea, rather fairer far Than stream, or sky, or star, To live while star shall burn or river roll, Unmarred by marring Time, The crown of Being, a heroic soul. VI. Beyond the weltering tides of worldly change He saw the invisible things, The eternal Forms of Beauty and of Right ; Wherewith well pleased his spirit wont to range, Rapt with divine delight, Richer than empires, royaler than kings. GENERAL GORDON. 1 23 VII. Lover of children, lord of fiery fight, Saviour of empires, servant of the poor, Not in the sordid scales of earth, unsure, Depraved, adulterate, He measured small and great, But by some righteous balance wrought in heaven, To his pure hand by Powers empyreal given; Therewith, by men unmoved, as God he judged aright. VIII. As on the broad sweet-watered river tost Falls some poor grain of salt, And melts to naught, nor leaves embittering trace ; As in the o'er-arching vault With unrepelled assault A cloudy climbing vapour, lightly lost, 124 0N THE DEATH OF Vanisheth utterly in the starry space ; So from our thought, when his enthroned estate We inly contemplate, All wrangling phantoms fade, and leave us face to face. IX. Dwell in us, sacred spirit, as in thee Dwelt the eternal Love, the eternal Life, Nor dwelt in only thee ; not thee alone We honour reverently, But in thee all who in some succouring strife, By day or dark, world-witnessed or unknown, Crushed by the crowd, or in late harvest hailed, Warring thy war have triumphed, or have failed. GENERAL GORDON. \2\ X. Nay, but not only there Broods thy great Presence, o'er the Libyan plain. It haunts a kindlier clime, a dearer air, The liberal air of England, thy loved home. Thou through her sunlit clouds and flying rain Breathe, and all winds that sweep her island shore — Rough fields of riven foam, Where in stern watch her guardian breakers roar. Ay, throned with all her mighty memories, Wherefrom her nobler sons their nurture draw, With all of good or great For aye incorporate That rears her race to faith and generous shame, To high-aspiring awe, To hate implacable of thick-thronging lies, 126 THE DEATH OF GENERAL GORDON. To scorn of gold and gauds and clamorous fame ; With all we guard most dear and most divine, All records ranked with thine, Here be thy home, brave soul, thy undecaying shrine. March 1885. WORKS BY ERNEST MYERS. POEMS. Extra foolscap 8vo. 4s. 6d. THE DEFENCE OF ROME, and other Poems. Extra foolscap 8vo. $s. THE PURITANS. A Poem. Extra foolscap 8vo. 2s. 6d. THE EXTANT ODES OF PINDAR. Trans- lated into English with an Introduction and short Notes. Second Edition. Crown 8vo. $s. MACMILLAN & CO., LONDON. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. •BWtWft JUL 7M4 10M-1 1-50 12555) 470 remi ngtdn rand inc. 20 PR Myers - klOl Judgment of |M5?85j Prometheus PR 5101 M585J