PR6039 
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 iy-ELYA 
 
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 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
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 Mallow and Asphodel
 
 Mallow and Asphodel 
 
 By R. C. TreveJyan 
 
 " N'/jTTtoi, o()ot Sraai ocejj 7r\ioy ijfuav iravrds, 
 
 Kantian 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited 
 
 NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 1898 
 
 Ail rights reutved

 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Epimetheus 
 
 PAGE 
 I 
 
 Archilochus 
 
 . 25 
 
 Orpheus .... 
 
 • 32 
 
 The Playmates . 
 
 • • -37 
 
 Juno's Peacock . 
 
 • 39 
 
 For a Fan 
 
 • 50 
 
 Quern Songs 
 
 . 52
 
 ^ EPIMETHEUS 
 
 I 
 
 When the Titan wars were over, and those upstart mutineers, 
 Friended by Prometheus' guile, had hurled the sky's coeval 
 
 peers 
 Down to grim Tartarean bondage, last of all that vanquished 
 
 band, 
 Haled before the seat of Zeus for judgment, fettered foot and 
 
 hand, 
 Came the minstrel Epimetheus, foolish wizard, after-wise. 
 With amaze and wonder staring in his simple innocent eyes. 
 They had found him sitting lonely by the far Atlantic shore, 
 Floating songs of careless rapture o'er the sea's white-spuming 
 
 floor ; 
 There they found the silly singer, whither he had slunk by 
 
 night. 
 Stolen from the fray — ah, wherefore should the sweet-voiced 
 
 minstrel fight ? 
 Thus they brought him, bound and wildered, lapsing ever 
 
 and anon 
 Back into his foolish singing, while the Thunderer's limping 
 
 son, 
 
 B
 
 2 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Swart Hephaestus, called a sentence from the terrible lips of 
 Zeus : 
 
 " Father, o'er this shiftless truant let a doom be shaken loose. 
 
 Yet deal gently with him, Father, guilty found in other kind 
 
 Than those lords of insurrection. Nought he knew what 
 moved their mind ; 
 
 Scant his care if thou or Cronus reigned : he followed, as 
 behoved. 
 
 Whither his brother giants bade him, chanting the sweet 
 lays they loved. 
 
 How should deep forecasting treason ambush in those child- 
 like eyes ? 
 
 Of the future nought he sees, in bygone knowledge only 
 wise. 
 
 In the past his wits go ever rambling like a little child 
 
 Hither thither seeking berries down the brambly wood-ways 
 wild. 
 
 Yet since he must surely suffer joined in penance with his 
 kin. 
 
 Then devise some milder bondage, portioned to his venial sin. 
 
 Do not bid us clamp his body on some everlasting bed 
 
 Hot with unimagined torment, lest, when thither he is led. 
 
 From our grasp he sing our mallets with entreaty musical, 
 
 And our hands heaved up for pity let the links and fetters 
 fall." 
 
 Thus the kind Hephaestus pleaded, while within the brain 
 of Jove 
 
 To and fro the thoughts like shuttles plying swift a judg- 
 ment wove. 
 
 Warp of wisdom, woof of justice, worthy of a king so wise. 
 
 But the giant with a question in his wildered wandering eyes 
 
 Gazed around, then rent the silence with a loud and bitter cry:
 
 EPIMETHEUS 3 
 
 "Whither have they fallen — my brothers — fallen through 
 
 the boundless sky ? 
 As I sat beside the ocean, I beheld them one by one 
 Tumbling through the purple evening, right across the 
 
 setting sun : 
 Far away they fell to Westward, and I knew not what was 
 
 done ; 
 But the sea grew rough with horror, and the mountains 
 
 quaked with dread, 
 And the sky grew dark, and reboant thunder laboured 
 
 overhead ; 
 And I hid my face and cowering long I sat in doubt and fear, 
 Till these strange ones came upon me, bound my hands and 
 
 drew me here. 
 But I seek my pleasant brethren j where they sojourn I 
 
 would learn. 
 Have ye seen this mighty kindred ? Easy are they to discern : 
 Tall and lovely are their bodies, beautiful their voice and 
 
 strong. 
 When they call to one another, as the wind-chafed forest's 
 
 Or the parle of lions calling o'er the hills from lair to lair. 
 
 Tell me, ye strange mocking faces, have ye seen them any- 
 where ? " 
 
 Thus he wailed and looked around him, while the Olympian 
 corridors 
 
 Echoed with immortal laughter, as on sea-indented shores 
 
 When with washing lapping laughter softly laughs a prisoned 
 wave 
 
 To the answering roof above it of some deep-receding cave. 
 
 Nay, e'en Zeus himself grew jocund, and his heart with 
 mirth was warm :
 
 4 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 From the lips that judge the world burst laughter like a 
 
 thunder-storm, 
 And the palm that darts the lightning smote the great eternal 
 
 thigh ; 
 With the shock the walls rang loudly, and within where 
 
 peacefully- 
 Hidden in the secret cloisters of that many-chambered limb, 
 Slept the infant Dionysus, safe from Hera's wicked whim. 
 All the twenty silver nurses, seated on their golden stools 
 Round the babe to watch and tend him, fashioned with the 
 
 fire-god's tools, 
 Shook their glittering limbs for terror when the long walls 
 
 heaved and quaked, 
 And the mighty Semelean infant, from his slumber waked. 
 Turned about within his cradle, and addressed them ques- 
 tioning : 
 "Wherefore thus, my silver nurses, doth our house about 
 
 us ring ? 
 Wherefore rock the walls and tremble? Doth a brood of 
 
 fancies vain 
 Like a shoal of ocean fishes dartle through my father's brain, 
 That he wags his legs for pleasure ? Hath his roving 
 
 amorous eye 
 Found again some maid of beauty from its vantage in the 
 
 sky ? 
 Can it be his wits grow nimble with the kindling touch of 
 
 wine ? 
 Innocent as yet and sober hangs the grape upon the vine. 
 Even as I within this cradle lying : but the day shall be 
 When I must arise to quicken all its sleeping potency. 
 And the universe shall drink, and to my godhead bow the 
 
 knee."
 
 EPIMETHEUS 5 
 
 Thus he spake, nor stayed an answer, but turned round, and 
 to his dreams 
 
 Passed once more, and lapt in sleep resumed his world- 
 consoling schemes. 
 
 But the pregnant brows of Zeus grew dark with magisterial 
 gloom. 
 
 And his lips now stern and cruel thus pronounced a righteous 
 doom : 
 
 " Epimetheus, would'st thou question where thy pleasant 
 brethren be ? 
 
 They have parted on a journey — Wisdom's face they fain 
 would see. 
 
 Not in all their mighty legions holy Wisdom might be 
 found : 
 
 To the realms of fire to seek her they must travel under- 
 ground. 
 
 I beheld their fond migration setting forth, but much I doubt. 
 
 Though they seek a thousand ages, whether they will seek 
 her out. 
 
 In my tender care and prudence I have bound thee foot and 
 hand. 
 
 Lest fraternal love should bid thee track the steps of that 
 lost band. 
 
 How should one of heart so peaceful, tempered simple as a 
 child, 
 
 Bear the subterranean horror of that venture tern and wild? 
 
 Therefore shall Hephaestus take thee deep within the North- 
 land vast. 
 
 Far beyond its forest girdle, there to bind thy body fast 
 
 All along a craggy mountain, stretched supine as on a rack : 
 
 Thou and thy tremendous warden, starkly fettered back 
 to back.
 
 6 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Linkt with glacier chains to2;ether for a season, soon shall 
 
 be 
 Loving friends and sweet companions ; nay, so close your 
 
 amity, 
 That your beings shall commingle, and thy bones shall suffer 
 
 change. 
 Mystic mountain transformation, gradual petrifaction strange: 
 Into soil thy flesh shall crumble, on thy head tall pines shall 
 
 nod 
 All their feathery tops together when they hear the North- 
 wind's rod : 
 O'er thine eyes shall spring the oak-tree ; from beneath its 
 
 brow shall steal 
 Two bright streams of tears for token that thou still canst 
 
 know and feel : 
 Down thy cheek the larch shall muster, round thy chin the 
 
 birch shall grow. 
 Lifting up its trembling foliage o'er the willow-wood below. 
 By the voice of cataracts falling, cuckoos caUing through 
 
 the air. 
 And the feet of brown bears shambling, reindeer rambling 
 
 here and there, 
 Many a time shall pleasant sleep be chased from off thy 
 
 wearied eyes. 
 As the slumbers of an infant teased away by summer flies. 
 Yet, for so would I chastise thee as a father might his child, 
 That by some sweet consolation thy keen pains may be 
 
 beguiled, 
 I will bid that singing Spirit harbour still within thy breast. 
 Filling all thy soul with music, as a dove that builds its 
 
 nest 
 High within a lofty tower fills a captive with delight.
 
 EPIMETHEUS 7 
 
 Yea, thou shalt forget thy pain, the parching noon and chilly 
 
 night. 
 When thy songs creep back to nestle murmuring by thy 
 
 worn heart's side, 
 And melodiously ascending softly through thy throat they 
 
 glide 
 One by one between thy lips, as in succession glide the bees 
 Through their city gates to morning business over heather 
 
 leas. 
 And the wandering winds of heaven that have shuddered in 
 
 their flight 
 O'er the mouths of red volcanoes shooting far into the night 
 Tongues of flame, and with pollution of hot hail and 
 
 sulphurous breath 
 Staining all their liquid air-streams, each pure cloud and 
 
 vapour wreath. 
 When they pass the singing mountain, visiting its wondrous 
 
 mouth. 
 As with snowy feet they hasten on their journey toward the 
 
 South, 
 Long shall linger round to listen, charmed through all their 
 
 eddies cold. 
 All their fierce tempestuous whirlwinds, loading every frozen 
 
 fold 
 Of their gusty robes with music, ere they go their boisterous 
 
 ways 
 Scattering over land and ocean storm-blown snatches of thy 
 
 lays. 
 Shackled thus through countless ages, thou shalt gather in 
 
 by night 
 Wisdom from the freezing moonbeams and instruction from 
 
 the Hght
 
 8 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Of the stars in silver session ; and when dawn with rosy hand 
 Draws awav their robes of darkness from the wakened sea 
 
 and land, 
 Helios shall teach thee prudence, into thine unsheltered eyes 
 Laughing with fierce fiery glances, till thy withered heart 
 
 grow wise, 
 And thy kindred be forgotten : then once more thy voice 
 
 may fling 
 Rapture through the ancient halls, till all their cloisters 
 
 sweetly ring, 
 And the Olympian peers grow hushed and stay their jocund 
 
 revelling." 
 Thus the king dealt forth his righteous judgments o'er that 
 
 innocent head : 
 Heavy hands were laid upon him ; from that presence was 
 
 he led 
 Far away to watch for ages fettered on his icy bed. 
 
 II 
 
 Apollo, disguised as an Infant, instructs Djedalus 
 HOW Epimetheus may be found 
 
 On Calymne's rocky sea-board Dasdalus had lighted down. 
 Flying o'er the wrinkled ocean from the towers of Minos 
 
 town. 
 Weary-winged and sick with anguish on a stone he sat and 
 
 wept. 
 While the waves with jocund laughter round about him 
 
 washed and leapt.
 
 EPIMETHEUS 9 
 
 But he heeded not their moclcino; ; still he heard that bitter 
 
 knell— 
 " Father, father ! see, I perish ! Reach thy hand ! Ah, 
 
 fare thee well ! " 
 Saw again the glittering pinions flutter idle overhead. 
 Saw the boy's hands stretched toward him, saw his face as 
 
 down he sped, 
 Till he plunged within the cloudrack o'er the misty ocean 
 
 spread. 
 When he raised his eyes, beside him lo ! a fisher's cabin 
 
 stood. 
 Built of stones and wattled reeds : its gaping holes were 
 
 stopped with mud. 
 At the door a crone was sitting, mending nets upon the sand ; 
 On the floor a babe was playing, moulding shapes with 
 
 infant hand — 
 Deftly like a master workman kneading out of pliant clay 
 Mimic forms of God and Goddess ranged in reverent array 
 Round him in a circle, mocking those brave sessions when 
 
 the Gods 
 Parley round the throne of Zeus in large Olympian periods. 
 Then the hero stepping lightly to that withered woman's side 
 Spake a word in heavy trouble : " Ancient mother, worn 
 
 and tried 
 By the spite of years and sorrows, give me now an answer 
 
 true. 
 I have travelled hither winging on a journey strange and new 
 Through the windy streets of heaven, fleeing from the 
 
 grievous wrath 
 Of the cruel tyrant Minos ; not alone I started forth : 
 Close behind my son was speeding. As two ducks rise 
 
 through the air
 
 lo EPIMETHEUS 
 
 With their long necks stretching forward toward another 
 
 reedy lair ; 
 Startled by a fowler's footsteps from their pools upon the 
 
 moor, 
 So we voyaged on together ; but alone I reached the shore. 
 Down he dived beneath the vapours — Icarus ! My son, 
 
 my son ! 
 Couldst thou not have heard my warning ? All my life 
 
 with thee is gone : 
 Thine was all the gathered wisdom of my art, which I had 
 
 thought 
 Thou shouldst lead to large perfection, by Apollo's precept 
 
 taught. 
 All my house with thee is perished, all my toils and hopes 
 
 are nought. 
 Through the mists I dropped to seek him, hovered o'er the 
 
 water's face 
 To and fro with vain endeavour, wandering round from 
 
 place to place ; 
 Saw no sight but dolphins gambolling, fishes leaping from 
 
 the waves. 
 Heard no sound but sea-gulls crying, cormorants screeching 
 
 from their caves ; 
 Sought one hour, and then a second ; could not find him 
 
 anywhere ; 
 But the third I journeyed landward, weeping, laden with 
 
 despair. 
 Mother, say, as thou wast sitting at thy task beside the shore 
 Hast thou seen a sudden splendour flashing down on ocean's 
 
 floor. 
 As the lightning falls from heaven ? Didst thou mark a 
 
 swimmer bold
 
 EPIMETHEUS ii 
 
 Striving shoreward through the waves, or did their restless 
 
 arms enfold 
 Nought but some poor lifeless body hither thither tossed 
 
 and rolled ? " 
 Thus the ancient dame made answer : "What is this that 
 
 thou dost ask ? 
 I must stoop my weary eyes for ever o'er my homely task ; 
 I have no time to send them wandering on the waves or 
 
 through the skies ; 
 I have no care if men like lightning fall from heaven, or 
 
 heroes rise 
 From the waves like Aphrodite : yet sometimes I see them 
 
 come, 
 But their limbs are stifF with swimming, and their swollen 
 
 lips are dumb : 
 To the land they never win, but 'neath the breakers find a 
 
 tomb. 
 Stranger, wouldst thou gather counsel from a wrinkled 
 
 woman's lips ? 
 Suffer not thy hero heart to scorn the timbered might of 
 
 ships. 
 Doth adventure bid thee cross the perilous seas from shore 
 
 to shore, 
 Tempt not strange forbidden paths, nor strive against our 
 
 nature's law. 
 Leave the wet waves for the fishes, to the lion leave his lair, 
 For the immortal Gods Olympus, for the birds the bound- 
 less air. 
 Nor shalt thou disdain thy mother Earth, who gave thee life 
 
 and health ; 
 She can yield thee bread in plenty, fruit and wine and 
 
 golden wealth.
 
 12 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Women fair as Aphrodite ; and when thou weariest of all 
 
 these, 
 On her loamy breast thy tired limbs shall find their endless 
 
 ease." 
 When the hero heard this answer, silent turned he from the 
 
 door. 
 But the infant stayed him, speaking from his play upon the 
 
 floor : 
 " In the dim Cimmerian highlands, where man's feet may 
 
 never come, 
 Where the boisterous congregations of the winds are never 
 
 dumb ; 
 By sheer mountain cliffs in frozen isolation girdled round. 
 Lies the wizard Epimetheus fast in silver fetters bound. 
 Till his stubborn heart grow loyal, and his brethren be 
 
 Never shall they from his limbs unwind their crawling icy 
 
 knot. 
 On his ancient head is springing many a tall snow-loaded 
 
 pine, 
 Nodding all their tops together when they hear the tempest 
 
 whine ; 
 O'er his eyes the oak-trees darken, down his cheek the 
 
 larches grow ; 
 Round his chin the birches quiver o'er the willow-wood 
 
 below. 
 O'er his face great bears go ambhng, deer go rambling here 
 
 and there, 
 All around are cuckoos calling, cataracts brawling through 
 
 the air. 
 Wouldst thou know the doubtful sequel of thy son's aerial 
 
 wrack ?
 
 EPIMETHEUS 13 
 
 Spread thy wings upon the South-wind, leap upon its gusty 
 
 back, 
 Ride across the broad i^gean, by that easy pilot led. 
 Leave behind the racing billows gambolling over Helle 
 
 dead, 
 Travel o'er the cruel Euxine, on thy left hand skirt its 
 
 shore. 
 Till thou see a mighty river spreading out a golden floor 
 Far inland towards the sunset. Here thy wings shall change 
 
 their flight ; 
 They must strain and labour onward to the West, till 
 
 welcome night 
 Bids them sink to earth for shelter in some warm thick- 
 
 foliaged nest. 
 As the tired dove at evening seeks her lofty wind-rocked 
 
 rest. 
 Three slow days the gliding highway of the stream shall be 
 
 thy guide ; 
 But the fourth noon, looking downward, wandering on the 
 
 riverside 
 Thou shalt see a giant elk, and antlered lord of many leas 
 Straying on in quiet pasture of the grass beneath the trees. 
 Stoop from heaven like an eagle ; alight astride upon his 
 
 back. 
 Quickly draw thy sword and thrust it through his velvet- 
 coated neck ; 
 On the green grass spill his life, then build of stones an 
 
 altar there ; 
 Lay upon the wood thy victim ; to the Delian breathe a 
 
 prayer 
 That his gracious pov/er may lead thee to the wizard's 
 
 mountain lair.
 
 14 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 From the flame shall rise a murmur, from the altar leap a 
 
 song, 
 With the smoke and sparks above thee tiny wings shall flash 
 
 and throng. 
 Mounting fast in countless hundreds, swarming up between 
 
 the trees. 
 And those leafy vaults shall echo with the floating hum of 
 
 bees. 
 Do not stand in foolish wonder gaping ; lift thy wings in 
 
 flight ; 
 Thou must follow where they lead thee : never let them 
 
 from thy sight. 
 All day long with steady pinions press behind their humming 
 
 host. 
 Nor when Night shall dusk the paths of heaven shall their 
 
 track be lost ; 
 But their wings' melodious rumour sweetly shall instruct 
 
 thine ear, 
 Lapsing on with myriad silver glances through the moon- 
 light clear. 
 On a sudden notes of distant music from a mouth unseen 
 Shall come fainting down the valleys, o'er the mountain 
 
 pastures green. 
 Like the sound of lowing cattle borne from land upon the 
 
 breeze 
 To poor sailors drifting lost and wildered over misty seas. 
 Thou shalt know the wizard's singing, thou shalt thrill to 
 
 hear the voice 
 That has soothed the Titans' fury and made their lordly 
 
 hearts rejoice. 
 Stir thy lagging wings, leap forward for thy fallen son's dear 
 
 sake ;
 
 EPIMETHEUS 15 
 
 Leave behind the patient bees to labour onward in thy wake. 
 
 Tall and taller rise the mountains, loud and louder swells 
 the song, 
 
 Till beneath thee lo ! the giant, paying for an ancient wrong 
 
 Grievous penance, on a ridge of craggy rocks stretched out 
 along. 
 
 Lighting on his wrinkled visage, fold thy tired wings to rest. 
 
 That with faithful flight have borne thee to the haven of 
 thy quest. 
 
 In his mind's memorial chambers all the secret past lies 
 stored ; 
 
 Yet his jealous sullen humour loves not to lay bare his hoard. 
 
 Therefore, wouldst thou win thine answer, weave thy words 
 with threads of guile ; 
 
 Wise and crafty be thy dealings ; baffle wile with subtler 
 wile : 
 
 For the myriad years have taught him prudence with their 
 crawling pangs ; 
 
 Glaciers have devoured his simple child-like heart with 
 freezing fangs ; 
 
 Thirsty Helios with scorching lips has drunk his innocence ; 
 
 And though still the singing Spirit sweetly haunts within 
 his sense, 
 
 'Twixt his songs he mutters curses on Jove's stern omni- 
 potence. 
 
 Thus his soul has grown malignant, ever on evil food it feeds, 
 
 Lapt in magic meditation, wicked dreams of wizard deeds." 
 
 So the infant gave his counsel ; then to mould his beau- 
 teous toys 
 
 Turned again, and wreathed in smiles resumed his inter- 
 rupted joys. 
 
 In a muse the hero muttered, " How may holy wisdom thrive
 
 i6 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 On the lips of new-born infants ? How can baby hands 
 
 contrive 
 Graceful forms of God and Goddess, fair beyond the art of 
 
 man ? 
 Sure in the ambush of those limbs there lurks some power 
 
 Olympian." 
 When he raised his eyes again the babe had vanished from 
 
 the floor 
 With his works, and thus the wrinkled wife addressed him 
 
 from the door : 
 "Wherefore thus with eyes agaze on empty nothing dost 
 
 thou stand ? 
 What is that thy pale lips mutter ? Wouldst thou count 
 
 the countless sand ? 
 Would thy reckless heart discover what fresh folly may be 
 
 done ? 
 Pluck the planets from their courses, steal his shining from 
 
 the sun. 
 Through the chambers of the heavens on thy mad wings 
 
 float and run, 
 To sweep the bright clouds from its corners : easy are such 
 
 light feats for thee ; 
 But thy treasure dropped and drowned in ocean shalt thou 
 
 never see." 
 Like the sound of twittering sparrows died her words within 
 
 his mind. 
 Still he mused, and ever musing, turned him round, and on 
 
 the wind 
 Spread his wings ; then fast away, away it bore his headlong 
 
 flight 
 Northward o'er the seas, and snatched him from that 
 
 wondering woman's sight.
 
 EPIMETHEUS 17 
 
 III 
 
 A Song of Epimetheus 
 
 Yet once more ye winds, swift wandering shepherds of the 
 
 vaporous skies, 
 Ye bright flocks of clouds, ye mountains crowned in shining 
 
 helms of ice, 
 Monarchs of the earth, give hearing, while again I lift my 
 
 voice. 
 That hath oft beguiled and soothed you with the enchant- 
 ment of strange joys. 
 Caught you by your misty purple fleeces, stayed your gusty 
 
 feet. 
 Pierced the sunless caves of granite where your hot hearts 
 
 pant and beat. 
 Often have ye heard me flinging joyance on the morning air. 
 Golden tales of magic cadence 'neath the stars, though keen 
 
 despair 
 Gnawed within ; but now no more thus sweetly may I find 
 
 relief ; 
 I have nought to sing but bitter dirges, wailing winged with 
 
 grief; 
 For my soul is sick and faint as some great city by the seas, 
 Mother of a thousand ships, grown rich on old adulteries 
 With far merchant isles and kingdoms, when her foemen 
 
 gather round. 
 Bind a mole across her harbours, raise against her gates a 
 
 mound : 
 In her streets where once the jovial chapman gossiped in his 
 
 stall 
 
 c
 
 1 8 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 And 'neath the tread of merry-makers e'en the stones grew 
 
 musical, 
 Lie the lean and wasted dead — and who shall give them 
 
 burial ? 
 In the wealthy merchant's garden, 'twixt the lily and the 
 
 rose, 
 Down the paths for twilight lovers green, secure the thistle 
 
 blows ; 
 None shall come to root it up, save haply when the hasty 
 
 spade 
 Breaks the turf, and ever there again some muffled face is 
 
 laid. ' 
 
 And her mighty men in silence slink like foxes to the walls. 
 And her princes sit forlorn and tremble in their feasting- 
 
 halls. 
 Thus my heart is faint and famished : hope at last hath 
 
 flown away, 
 Hope that ever nestled near it, murmuring of the happy 
 
 day 
 When with glad victorious faces, bright with battle in the 
 
 skies. 
 They should come, my Titan kindred, haling in triumphant 
 
 wise 
 Him the foul usurping tyrant, forced to bend on servile 
 
 knee, 
 To unbind my crystal chains with backward spells and set 
 
 me free. 
 Lift thy voice in lamentation ! Weep aloud, O mother 
 
 Earth ! 
 Broken are they, snared and taken, fallen from their pride 
 
 and mirth. 
 Thy delight, thy glorious Titans, children of an elder birth.
 
 EPIMETHEUS 19 
 
 Tall and comely were their bodies, and their hands were 
 
 swift and strong ; 
 Yet our Empire is no more, our ancient glory hath suffered 
 
 wrong : 
 Yet they came, the foul usurpers, lords of craft and mis- 
 creant wile, 
 And our rightful strength lay vanquished, trodden 'neath 
 
 the feet of guile 
 One by one the tyrants bound them, as a labourer binds a 
 
 sheaf : 
 (Lift thy voice in lamentation, shake thy hills with grief:) 
 Yea they bore them down and thrust them deep within thy 
 
 sunless caves. 
 Far above their tombs yet plays the flashing frolic of thy 
 
 waves ; 
 Far above the Spring thy lover with voluptuous winds and 
 
 showers 
 Dallies with thy mighty shoulders robed in nuptial leaves 
 
 and flowers. 
 Many children, bright and lovely, thou shalt bear him as of 
 
 yore. 
 But thy first and dearest offspring shall behold thy joy no 
 
 more. 
 (Let thy waves foam out their grief upon the desolate 
 
 shore.) 
 Where is Crius ? Where is Themis ? Rhea, queen of 
 
 golden hair ? 
 (Joy and hope are taken from thee ; publish thy despair :) 
 Where is old imperial Cronos ? gentle Thea, where, oh 
 
 where ? 
 Under what tremendous mountain, in what mine of 
 
 Tartarus
 
 2Q EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Dost thou fret thy v/rithing anguish, O my sire lapetus ? 
 O'er what seas of flame and horror ruleth old Oceanus ? 
 Never shall I hear your laughter, never watch your kingly 
 
 style 
 As ye gather clamouring homeward, streaming up in joyous 
 
 file 
 Through the illustrious gates of heaven from your journeys 
 
 to and fro 
 'Mid the tribes of happy mortals on the populous earth below. 
 Yet though hope be dead for ever, though my lot be 
 
 desolate. 
 Though afflicted and abased I moan beneath the oppressor's 
 
 hate, 
 I will not bate my proud resolve, nor shall my just defiance 
 
 cease, 
 Nor with cringing humiliation will I sue a traitor's peace — 
 Never, O my woeful brethren, shall my mighty love be cold, 
 Till dark Chaos shall resume its anarch empire as of old. 
 Till the victor with the vanquished to one common wrack 
 
 are hurled. 
 And remorseless Time strews forth the scattered ashes of 
 
 the world. 
 
 IV 
 
 DjEdalus questions Epimetheus 
 
 Epimetheus ! Epimetheus! waken, and unseal thine ear ! 
 Keeper of the keys of knowledge, mighty wizard, hear, oh 
 
 hear ! 
 I am Daedalus, the craftsman ; regal is the birth I claim
 
 EPIMETHEUS zr 
 
 From the house of proud Erechtheus, but a deed of blood 
 
 and shame 
 Brought me wage of woeful exile : with my son I found 
 
 retreat 
 In the land of ninety cities, in the ancient isle of Crete. 
 There with Minos long we harboured : there our pleasant 
 
 days we sold, 
 All the cunning of our hands for foolish wealth of princely 
 
 gold. 
 Till our very bread was bitter, and the smoke curled hate- 
 fully 
 From the roofs of Cnosos' city, mounting up the alien sky. 
 And with tears of tribulation oft our labouring hands were 
 
 wet. 
 For our souls remembered Athens and its noble people yet. 
 In my thought a counsel gathered, round my heart a hope 
 
 grew strong, 
 Well in secret I reflected, pondered and considered long. 
 Then I took our golden wages, in my pots I cast them 
 
 swift. 
 And I fashioned golden armour from the tyrant's molten gift. 
 For my son and me I wrought it, toiling through the silent 
 
 night. 
 And I set around its borders scrolls of curious delight ; 
 In the midst fair chased adornment, figured wealth of old- 
 world tales. 
 Mystic legends borne from wanton Egypt on rich Tyrian 
 
 sails. 
 In a chest I stowed it close, then turned me to my task 
 
 anew. 
 I devised a feathered witchcraft, wondrous wings of divers 
 
 hue. 
 
 1 1» »» ii« '^ I III ■
 
 22 
 
 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Like the lustrous vans of Iris glistering through a summer 
 
 shower, 
 Stronger than the wings of Harpies, pinions of mysterious 
 
 power, 
 That should bear us over land and ocean with swift, easy toil. 
 Homeward to the rock of Athens, sheathed in our golden 
 
 spoil. 
 Now we donned our arms, and now with magic seal of 
 
 yellow wax 
 From the sacred hives of Ceres bound the wings upon our 
 
 backs. 
 Closely cloaked like midnight thieves we stole in silence 
 
 from the town. 
 When the morning broke we stood from dizzy headland 
 
 gazing down 
 Over unawakened ocean muffled in its vaporous gown. 
 From the cHfF we leapt exultant, launched upon our perilous 
 
 flight. 
 Floating o'er the cloudy purple billows down the streaming 
 
 light. 
 Long we journeyed bold and jocund, chaunting ever and 
 
 anon 
 Paeans to the glorious Loxion, throned within the mounting 
 
 sun. 
 Now we soon without mischance had crossed the surging sea 
 
 of mist. 
 And the very stones of Athens soon our joyful lips had 
 
 kissed : 
 But the boy waxed vain and wanton ; now he gambolled 
 
 overhead. 
 Now he shot before me far, then checked his race and 
 
 boasting said :
 
 EPIMETHEUS 23 
 
 " Father, why with course so lowly skim we through this 
 
 nether air ? 
 Lo:)k, look up ! behold Apollo throned in radiant godhead 
 
 there ! 
 Sunly we are more than mortal ! O my father, let us 
 
 rise 
 Though his vast empyreal realm to parley with him in the 
 
 jkies. 
 Thoigh all golden be his garments flashing with the glance 
 
 »f fire, 
 Yet ve too in shining gold are glorious, and our souls aspire 
 Whired aloft to things divine on furious chariots of desire." 
 Breatjng forth mad-mouthed presumption upward through 
 
 tie sky he leapt, 
 Heeditg not my cries of warning. Yet a little while he 
 
 lept 
 Far abve his ardent progress, glittering like a mimic sun. 
 Till n fiery wrath down looked the god on that vain- 
 
 gorious one 
 And )eneath his glance the softening wax dissolved its 
 
 ragic bands. 
 With a wail he tumbled past me, stretching forth poor 
 
 felpless hands, 
 Vaniaing within the shroud that o'er the misty sea expands. 
 Throgh the clouds I dropped to seek him, hovered o'er 
 
 ne water's face 
 To ad fro with vain endeavour, wandering round from 
 
 lace to place ; 
 Saw 10 sight but dolphins gambolling, fishes leaping from 
 
 he waves, 
 HeaB no sound but sea-gulls crying, cormorants screeching 
 
 rom their caves ;
 
 24 EPIMETHEUS 
 
 Sought one hour, and yet a second, could not find him any- 
 where ; 
 But the third I journeyed landward, weeping, laden with 
 
 despair. 
 Tell me thou who knowest all things ; grudge not now thy 
 
 wizard lore ; 
 Did his weary feet rejoicing feel at length some friendly 
 
 shore ? 
 Doth he live — my child ? Or did the whirlpool /own 
 
 beneath the waves 
 Snatch him in his golden armour to Poseidon's festal (^ves ? 
 Or if the billows in their arms have borne his body (o the 
 
 land. 
 Tossed it up upon the rocks, or gently laid it on the ind, 
 In what pool or yellow shallow, where the hungrylfishes 
 
 keep — 
 Stranded on what rugged reef now lies he couchd for 
 
 endless sleep ? 
 For I fain would take him up and kiss once moii that 
 
 woeful head j 
 
 Ere with many tears I lay him down within some lelved 
 
 bed. 
 So his wandering soul may pass to bliss among the titiquil 
 
 dead.
 
 ARCHILOCHUS 
 
 Archilochus, serving as a hireling spearman, muses 
 
 AND REMEMBERS NeOBOULE, THE DAUGHTER OF 
 
 Lycambes of Paros 
 
 When down beneath the waves the great sun goes, 
 
 And leaves me leaning on my spear, a-cold, 
 
 Watching from some beleaguered rampart old 
 
 The scattered fires where sleep a thousand foes ; 
 
 While one by one the staid rapt stars come in, 
 
 Till all the silver folk together met, 
 
 And on their thrones in ancient order set, 
 
 Wait ready for their revel to begin ; 
 
 Oh, then I cast an envious eye above. 
 
 And those bright sessions palely contemplate. 
 
 Gazing on Cassiopeia in her state — 
 
 Andromeda for whom knight Perseus strove : 
 
 But when I look on Ariadne's crown. 
 
 Whom Theseus left forlorn on Dia's isle 
 
 To mingle with the waves her moan awhile 
 
 Till flushed lacchus from his car leapt down. 
 
 Then, then, grown dim with sudden tears, my sight
 
 26 ARCHILOCHUS 
 
 Explores those brave celestial halls no more ; 
 
 My thoughts fly back to Paros' rock-bound shore, 
 
 Where dwells my Love w^ith sorrow day and night. 
 
 Now forth I step a God's heroic child 
 
 Schooled up to valiance in wise Cheiron's cave, 
 
 And swear in her dear cause e'en Death to brave : 
 
 Now from the sky caught down by passion wild 
 
 I dazzle her in Phcebus' golden mail ; 
 
 Or very Jove in azure mantle fold 
 
 All her white frailty round, then bid behold 
 
 If now the jealous stars become not pale. 
 
 Archilochus on a Lemnian Trireme 
 
 Long from the stern I watched the lines of light 
 That under certain nether stars lay traced. 
 And toward our ship converged from every side 
 Of the sea's vast calm circle : Night, it seemed, 
 With silver chains had bound us where we lay. 
 Rude clamour from the lower deck proclaimed 
 Our dastard generals — how they revelled yet 
 To drown day's shame ; while ever and again 
 A song too tuneful for male soldier throats 
 Broke through harsh laughter's tipsy rise and fall, 
 Escaping on the night like some scared bird 
 That leaves its high nest in a cavern's roof 
 When wearied robbers enter in. 
 
 A star 
 Slid down the sky. 
 
 A lordly rioter
 
 ARCHILOCHUS 27 
 
 Climbed stumbling up the steps ; and as he reeled 
 Across the poop, his pampered hair left night 
 Fragrant with perfume, and his maniac words 
 Came whirling wild : " Tethys, my bride, I come ! 
 In thy wet arms enfold me. Ah ! I burn ! 
 Fierce through thy lover's veins flows fire enough 
 To warm thy cold heart, though its chilly blood 
 Stream universal as the infinite sea. 
 Oh quench my hot limbs in thy kind embrace — 
 One long, cool nuptial kiss ! " — Then down he leapt. 
 At his mad drunken mouth the sea rushed in. 
 Small ripples washed the hull, then sank to rest. 
 
 The Sadness of Neoboule, when the Spring re- 
 turning DOES NOT BRING ArCHILOCHUS WITH IT 
 
 Through the garden it wandered stealthily : 
 
 In at my window it came, 
 
 And I knew that Spring was its name, 
 
 Spring that comes a wind from the West, 
 
 The wind which all things love the best, 
 
 Laden with gifts for all so wealthily. 
 
 Their leaves it gives to the trees. 
 
 To the meadows flowers. 
 
 To the flowers it sends the bees, 
 
 Raiseth the glow-worm lily bowers ; 
 
 And on heart of beast and bird it sheddeth love in showers. 
 
 In at the window it came. 
 
 And I knew that Spring was its name.
 
 28 ARCHILOCHUS 
 
 Then I thought : " It is well ; 
 
 He will soon be here ; 
 
 His sword will he sell, 
 
 He will barter his spear, 
 
 And leave the great fenced town at the dawn of the year. 
 
 He will tarry no more ; 
 
 His ship will be fleet ; 
 
 I shall hear the quick beat 
 
 Of his foot on the floor ; 
 
 I shall tremble with joy to behold his face in the door. 
 
 He shall breathe in my ear 
 
 As he kisses my brow, 
 
 *My love, I am here ; 
 
 I have kept my vow : 
 
 The flower of our joy may unfold ; our winter is over now.'" 
 
 But the days flew by, and he came not ; the flowers from 
 
 the meadows were peeping, 
 I sat by my mother and span : my task was wet with 
 
 weeping. 
 Down from my hands my spindle dropped ; 
 Close to her feet its rolling stopped. 
 " Why are thy hands so faint and weak ? 
 What secret trouble hath paled thy cheek ? 
 Hath thy heart's sweet innocence been waylaid 
 By Love that hath lurked, like a snake in the shade. 
 Ambushed close with waiting wings 
 Under the flowers of thy maiden Springs ? " 
 
 The days flew by, and he came not ; the Summer was there 
 
 in his glory. 
 Out to the woods I went ; to their trees I told my story.
 
 ARCHILOCHUS 29 
 
 I asked them wherefore my Love delayed, 
 
 By what cruel blast could his sail be stayed : 
 
 As it played with their darling leaves had the wind 
 
 Left at parting a rumour behind ? 
 
 But I doubt if my question could reach or impress 
 
 The trance of their somnolent consciousness ; 
 
 For their drowsy boughs did nought but sigh 
 
 As they stirred in the weak wind fitfully, 
 
 And their moss-grown multitudes I deem 
 
 Were lapped in the bliss of summer dream. 
 
 Then I asked the lizard why. 
 
 And the lizard made reply : 
 
 " Go ask of the bee ; 
 
 He is vagrant and free — 
 
 A wandering merchant and traveller he. 
 
 We lizards have business in hand ; 
 
 A sweet theft have I planned : 
 
 While the bee is abroad 
 
 Adding wealth to his hoard. 
 
 We must enter his home 
 
 By its narrow, low door. 
 
 And rifle his comb 
 
 From the roof to the floor. 
 
 Then I ran to find the bee, 
 Searched through all his blue-bell lea, 
 Found him swinging in a cup. 
 Drinking all its sweetness up. 
 Without turning from his task, 
 " Child," he answered, " wait and ask 
 These idle flowers when I am gone :
 
 30 ARCHILOCHUS 
 
 They will tell thee all anon, 
 
 I am busy, they have leisure. 
 
 What have all their tribes to do 
 
 But stand and guard their yellow treasure 
 
 In their cups of red and blue, 
 
 Till I hurry buzzing back 
 
 To take what else my bags may lack ? 
 
 They will tell thee all with pleasure." 
 
 So I stooped to ask the flowers. 
 
 That spend their happy hours 
 
 Lending tiny blossom ears 
 
 To the wandering gossip breeze, 
 
 That tells of all it does and hears 
 
 On lands and seas. 
 
 I asked them could they tell me. 
 
 Could their scented petals spell me 
 
 Some blown rumour from the ocean, 
 
 Some faint-recollected notion 
 
 Of what the winds might say ; 
 
 But they said : "Nay ! — 
 
 We know what thou wouldst know ; 
 
 But his fate we may not show." 
 
 Then I wept bright tears upon them 
 
 And fancied I had won them 
 
 All their secrets to unfold ; 
 
 And many things they told, 
 
 Deeds done beneath the trees. 
 
 Bright loves of birds and bees — 
 
 But of him no word. 
 
 So I turned in grief away. 
 
 And left their prattle gay j
 
 ARCHILOCHUS 31 
 
 But still they murmured on, 
 
 Though their questioner was gone : 
 
 To their merriment no truce, 
 
 For their babbling tongues were loose, 
 
 And by wakened memories 
 
 Of sweet woodland histories 
 
 Their fragrant hearts were stirred.
 
 ORPHEUS 
 
 It was a vale girt in by magic hills, 
 Watched round about by giant cedar-trees ; 
 A land made musical by shallow rills, 
 Birds in the boughs, and underneath the bees. 
 How I came there I know not, such dark ills 
 Had whelmed my soul with grievous memories ; 
 But when I came to that enchanted spot 
 I know that all my sorrow was forgot. 
 
 I strayed at will along the winding ways. 
 
 And watched the many various forest things 
 
 That in those green glooms passed their cloistered days, 
 
 Insects that plied on freaked and mottled wings 
 
 Between the flowers, deer on the lawns agraze 
 
 Or necks astrain toward luscious clusterings ; 
 
 All day I watched them from the shadowy bowers 
 
 Beneath whose leaves I hid my happy hours. 
 
 And seeing that so long my heart had known 
 No thought of living creature, beast or man, 
 Save of one vanished phantom shape alone, 
 My lost Eurydice, what wonder then
 
 ORPHEUS 33 
 
 If, when oblivion o'er my pain was thrown, 
 
 A luxury of pensive pleasure ran 
 
 Through all my senses — pleasure with still stealth 
 
 To watch and love that sylvan commonwealth. 
 
 But when at length the evening made more dim 
 The twilight 'neath those boughs for ever pent, 
 I rose and, careless, took a wayward whim 
 To set my feet against a steep ascent 
 That soon had lifted me above the brim 
 Of that wide leafy sea. Panting I leant 
 Upon a rock that crowned that forest isle 
 To watch reluctant day's last sumptuous smile. 
 
 The daisied turf spread out its carpet green 
 Around grey scattered stones. No tree was there 
 Save one old almond : like an aged queen 
 Who gems her locks and loads with jewels rare 
 Each withered hand, e'en so this tree was seen 
 To lift aloft into the purple air 
 Its ancient branches with their new-born dress 
 Of blossoms crowding white and numberless. 
 
 I wondered much what thought's caprice had planned 
 
 To set within this wild secluded spot 
 
 This mother of sweet flowers — what perished hand 
 
 Had planted here to flourish, fall, and rot 
 
 These fragrant generations all unscanned 
 
 By lovers' eyes, forsaken and forgot 
 
 Save by the vagrant forest bee alone. 
 
 Who ravished their stored sweetness, and was gone. 
 
 D
 
 34. ORPHEUS 
 
 And, as I mused, I saw out of the West, 
 Coming to meet me 'neath that flowery tree. 
 Her sweet authentic image, dimly dressed 
 In the same robes wherein she last did flee 
 Back to the houses of eternal rest — 
 The twice-lost spirit of Eurydice. 
 Around her fell the blooms as she did go. 
 Starring her mantle and her hair like snow. 
 
 Weeping I spake : " Ah, wherefore hast thou come 
 
 To move the memories of forgotten grief ? 
 
 Even now, while 'mid the trees I made my home, 
 
 I had become like a glad careless leaf 
 
 That soon must drop and find its mouldy tomb. 
 
 Wast thou so jealous of one hour's reHef ? 
 
 Or was no comfort there where thou hast been — 
 
 No joy, dear soul, among those meadows green ? 
 
 " Else wherefore from thy peace beneath the sun 
 
 Hast thou returned to visit my despair ? 
 
 Too long I tarry here : my hour is run." 
 
 Thus to my moan she answered : " Nought dwells there 
 
 Save holy, tranquil bliss. But I have won 
 
 Respite from lonely joy, brief leave to share 
 
 One piteous hour's fond parley. Then give heed. 
 
 And from my speech take solace for thy need. 
 
 " Oft in thy songs hath Love's sad tale been told. 
 How even as with the beasts in field and den, 
 Insects upon the leaf or in the mould, 
 So is it ever with this world of men —
 
 ORPHEUS 
 
 35 
 
 Born in the Spring, in Summer 'tis grown cold ; 
 The leaves fall, and it faints and fades, and then 
 Comes wintry Death and takes tired Love away, 
 And covers it for ever in the clay. 
 
 " Such are those transient Loves that time may mar, 
 Desire's sweet children of imperfect worth. 
 But our great Love was not as others are ; 
 With bright increase of splendour from its birth 
 It lightened all our darkness, like a star, 
 Filling with joy this sullen-seeming earth : 
 Nor when I from sweet life and thee was rent 
 Might its proud beams endure diminishment. 
 
 " Through Hell's dark halls their path of fire they made, 
 And mocked the cruel eyes of wondering Death : 
 By their strong radiance vanquished and dismayed. 
 To my spent limbs he yielded back my breath : 
 And though my soul, by that fond look betrayed, 
 Once more 'mid stranger shadows languisheth, 
 Our Love's peculiar planet hath not set. 
 But o'er thee hangs its mystic influence yet. 
 
 " Powers are there of such sovereign purity 
 No chance can make their perfect glory less : 
 Such is the changeful moon, the restless sea. 
 The summer meadows in their shifting dress ; 
 Such was our Love ; such suffer it to be. 
 These change but alter not their loveliness : 
 In them hath Beauty built her sacred shrine. 
 And fills each phase with native grace divine.
 
 36 ORPHEUS 
 
 "Therefore with vain unseasonable moan 
 Wrong not the spirit of our beatitude ; 
 But, in these woods abiding here alone, 
 Sing to the heart of this green solitude 
 Our happy tranquil story — here where none 
 May violate thy rapture's pensive mood. 
 In our joy's secret season who had part ? 
 Or was it purchased in the world's loud mart ? 
 
 " Ah, many songs thou madest for the sake 
 
 Of that loud world. Then let this last be mine. 
 
 What matter though the senseless air must take 
 
 Its wasted beauty ? Do these brooks repine 
 
 Because their gentle melodies awake 
 
 No joy in any human heart but thine. 
 
 Though still from year to year, in murmuring play 
 
 With weed and stone, they sing upon their way ? 
 
 " Or shall this flowery tree with less delight, 
 
 Or these pale spears of modest asphodel 
 
 With weaker pride put forth on Spring's young light 
 
 Their opening blooms, when thou no more shalt dwell 
 
 Within their wastes, their loving eremite ? 
 
 For then thou shalt be with me — Ah, farewell ! " 
 
 So 'mid these stones I sit and sing, and wait. 
 
 Even as she bade, the coming of my fate.
 
 THE PLAYMATES 
 
 Bend close, stoop nearer my sisters ; I deem my death is 
 upon me ; 
 Scarce e'en so can my voice enter the doors of your ear — 
 My voice that of old could leap so far from under the pine- 
 tree, 
 To run through the Delphian dells and woods in a melody 
 clear. 
 Oh ! the old pine v^^ith its song for us three singing beneath it ! 
 What will the old pine care whether for three or for two ? 
 Neither shall ye two care overmuch, but sitting together 
 
 Tell the old legends again, sing the old melodies through. 
 Then shall ye rise, take hands and dance, while faint from 
 the valley 
 Reaches the shepherd's song borne with the bleat of his 
 sheep. 
 Till when weariness comes ye sink and rest on the verdure, 
 
 Gazing with pensive eyes o'er the Corinthian deep. 
 Ah ! would God I could stay, my soul in this beautiful body. 
 
 Loving ye twain and beloved, linger awhile and be gay ! 
 Yet were I well content if now when the terrible Hermes 
 Draws through my mouth with his wand my spirit and 
 takes it away,
 
 38 THE PLAYMATES 
 
 If he should pause in the midst of the grim Plutonian 
 pathway. 
 Turn at the pleading prayer of the tremulous ghost at 
 his side, 
 Back to the earth, and choose some delicate thing of the 
 pine-boughs. 
 Squirrel or sweet-voiced bird, taking its hmbs as it died. 
 Or, better than all, the cicala, that there in that peaceable 
 hostel. 
 Breaking its journey dark, my spirit awhile should abide. 
 So would I sit in the boughs, and with dwarf eyes watch 
 you beneath me, 
 Through small insect ear drinking delight from your voice. 
 But if your joy fell hushed at the thought of the silent sister, 
 How would the branches above chime with a musical noise. 
 Till one should say to the other, "Dost hear how blithe 
 the cicala ? 
 Ne'er have we heard her discourse music so rich and divine; 
 Surely the gods have had pity, in lieu of her that was taken, 
 Setting to cheer our hearts a spirit of joy in the pine."
 
 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 Once Juno's peacock sued to win the love 
 
 Of Cytherea's youngest, whitest dove, 
 
 The trustiest and most docile to the rein 
 
 Of all the team that drew her airy wain. 
 
 Well might she be the favourite of her Oueen : 
 
 Her soul was like her body, white and clean j 
 
 A nun to Venus' service dedicate. 
 
 She had no thought of any feathered mate. 
 
 Yet that proud courtier bird, her flaunting wooer, 
 
 With foolish gallantries would still pursue her. 
 
 Strutted and minced before her wondering eyes, 
 
 And put to proof his daintiest fopperies. 
 
 Venus would smile to see this gorgeous sir 
 
 Behind her progress meekly squiring her. 
 
 Oft poor suspicious Juno, when her lord 
 
 Played the sly truant from their festal board. 
 
 Wanting her diligent spy, would storm and rave 
 
 Because this silly lackey, this fond slave. 
 
 Came not at call to learn her jealous best. 
 
 Wandered away himself on amorous quest. 
 
 But all his foolish courtship proved in vain : 
 
 She had no thought to spend upon his pain.
 
 40 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 Her pious mind was fixed on duties high. 
 
 His proud-poised neck of lapis lazuli, 
 
 His noble tail she deigned not to behold, 
 
 Nor those brave flanks rich robed in burnished god. 
 
 So sick with fretful hope away he flew 
 
 To a smooth lonely tank where he might view 
 
 Inverted an old city's ruined gate 
 
 'Mid rose-wreathed cypresses, and contemplate 
 
 All his scorned charms, each sad neglected grace; 
 
 Mirrored beneath him in the well's calm face, j 
 
 Here perched upon the brink this bird of folly 
 
 Sighed out a tempest of vain melancholy, 
 
 Wrinkled and marred with tears of peevish woe 
 
 His pool-reflected image seen below ; 
 
 Then moralised on this inconstant theme. 
 
 Saying, " Alas ! fair picture, that dost seem, 
 
 By teardrops into trembling agues thrown. 
 
 In more than faithful portraiture alone — 
 
 Nay, with prophetic force to illustrate 
 
 Thy bright original's malignant fate. 
 
 Showing how swift defacement and misfeature 
 
 At woe's mere touch wait on each mortal creatu'e. 
 
 Delivered up a spoil to quick decay. 
 
 This pomp of plumage, this superb array. 
 
 This splendid livery so brave and rare 
 
 Shall strew the earth, plucked out by harsh Despair. 
 
 Yet ne'er disgrace so hideous will I brook : 
 
 Nay, while my charms yet wear their summer look, 
 
 From their true-pictured image writ beneath 
 
 I'll drink the solace of a noble death. 
 
 For beauty scorned save this what remedy — 
 
 Kissing itself, e'en with the kiss to die ? "
 
 JUNO'S PEACOCK 41 
 
 Thus our poor love-sick wretch bade sad farewell 
 
 To his wronged beauty, then with purpose fell 
 
 Stooped down his head toward the glassy tomb 
 
 To dip his soul within the lake of gloom, 
 
 When in the tranquil mirror lo he sees, 
 
 Gliding between the spiring cypresses, 
 
 Jove's puissant eagle, his dear gallant friend. 
 
 Floating toward some tedious journey's end. 
 
 His lazy wings scarce moved, he went so slow : 
 
 The vesper sun lit up with tawny glow 
 
 Of mellow gold their curve majestical. 
 
 His noble breast, that antique ruin's wall. 
 
 Those sombre trees, that scene of gloom fantastical. 
 
 The peacock now, though still on death intent, 
 
 Delayed the tragic act so sternly meant, 
 
 And tempted to one sweet, last moment's pause, 
 
 Cried, " Noble comrade, hither, and for cause ! " 
 
 Obedient to his call that mailed bird 
 
 Lighted upon an ivied tower and heard 
 
 The sad tale through with patient courtesy. 
 
 Then turned his head, fixed on the sun his eye. 
 
 And sagely thus took up his calm soliloquy : 
 
 " Oh simpleness of lovers, aye to choose 
 
 Death before life, and their true cure refuse ! 
 
 Why must they still reject the reasoned lore 
 
 Of prudent love ? How oft must I deplore 
 
 The needless climax of a broken heart 
 
 For lack of some small aid from wholesome art ? 
 
 Many the cunning ways, yet plain and apt 
 
 To get by rote, whereby coy hearts are trapped. 
 
 By which reluctant beauty may be wooed 
 
 To quit its proudest, most unwilling mood.
 
 42 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 Myself, trained up in Jove's own master school 
 
 In the nice practice of each stablished rule, 
 
 Tried and approved a perfect graduate, 
 
 Each precept can rehearse and illustrate 
 
 Theory with due example, — borrowed whence. 
 
 Save from great Jove's august experience ? 
 
 Therefore, good friend, take comfort and rejoice : 
 
 Among my precepts pick thy wary choice. 
 
 First the swan's way woo thou : with swan-like grace 
 
 Die many a time before her cruel face ; 
 
 And with each death sing sweetly, sing how Love 
 
 Subdued of old the imperial heart of Jove, 
 
 Until his fond Omnipotence put on 
 
 The feathered ambush of a snow-white swan. 
 
 Haply she'll wonder with a sweet surmise 
 
 If Jove himself, lurking in fresh disguise. 
 
 Worships his hundredth bride with all those painted eyes. 
 
 Or thou mayst call to aid a tested power, 
 
 And whelm her frailty in a golden shower. 
 
 Whene'er in Venus' team she fares abroad. 
 
 Of burnished feathers spoil thy downy hoard — 
 
 Be thine too precious, from an aureole's breast 
 
 Borrow bright plumes and softly line her nest. 
 
 So was fair Danae won ; so oft have I 
 
 Myself prevailed o'er coy perversity. 
 
 But if, more masterful, thy generous passion. 
 
 Scorning base means, would sue in nobler fashion. 
 
 Rise to the mountain-top, thou valiant lover. 
 
 And from that prospect gazing down discover. 
 
 Creeping upon the earth some dangerous snake. 
 
 Some wolf's or panther's whelp : for her dear sake 
 
 Swoop down to battle from thy dizzy peak.
 
 JUNO'S PEACOCK 43 
 
 Bear off thy lifeless foe with claw and beak, 
 
 And, breathing love and protestation sweet, 
 
 Lay down thy prize before her coral feet, 
 
 Though now their hue can scarce contend with thine, 
 
 Which glorious victory doth incarnadine. 
 
 'Twas in this gallant, military way. 
 
 Bragging false triumph at pretended fray, 
 
 Jove won Alcmena ; in this martial wise. 
 
 Well suiting my courageous qualities, 
 
 Myself I mostly use Love's flowers to cull. 
 
 Yet many styles there be, named from the bull. 
 
 From cloud, from fire — " " Enough," the peacock cried, 
 
 " How may I thank thee friend ? Now had I died. 
 
 Casting away my silly breath for nought. 
 
 But for thy counsel. Fain would I be taught 
 
 This brave, heroic style. Let cowards use 
 
 Disguise and gold : the soldier's way I choose." 
 
 " Come then ! " the eagle cried. Away they sped. 
 
 Their talons planted on a hill's bald head. 
 
 Now gazing down they see the dwindled kine 
 
 (Like ants that cross a path from mine to mine) 
 
 Slow moving toward their stalls in thin-drawn straggling 
 
 line ; 
 And ambushed in the brake two lions they spy. 
 That wait till the main herd hath sauntered by. 
 Intent to pull the hindmost laggard down ; 
 And far away toward a rock-built town 
 They see the farmer's child who brings a lamb 
 Up through the fields, led bleating from its dam 
 To be their simple, rustic sacrifice 
 To mighty Jove : they show like two small mice. 
 One brown, one white, on a green carpet set.
 
 44 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 " Friend," quoth the eagle, " it is time to whet 
 
 Upon the rocks thy claws that must to-day 
 
 Snatch from these lions their proposed prey. 
 
 Or should thy soul disdain ignoble cattle. 
 
 Then brave these regal thieves to generous battle." 
 
 Confused, the peacock wondered which were best. 
 
 And thought perhaps he was too finely dressed ; 
 
 In fighting lions shields and swords are worn ; 
 
 Skirmishing, sadly might his train be torn. 
 
 " Surely," he answered, " it were hardly wise 
 
 To rob earth's monarchs of their lawful prize. 
 
 Let us respect their rights, and rather choose 
 
 To balk the kings of heaven of their dues. 
 
 They are our lords : we servants have our rights. 
 
 Our liberties, and lawful perquisites. 
 
 That little lamb that to the altar wends 
 
 Across the fields will better serve my ends. 
 
 And be the daintier gift ; will seem moreover. 
 
 On pretty cowslip fed and tender clover. 
 
 Of sweeter worth than blood-gorged monster fell. 
 
 Nay, it will prove a freight more portable." 
 
 Now forth they launched, and soon with upward stare 
 
 Amazed the child beheld the mighty pair 
 
 With broad majestic curves down-sweeping through the air. 
 
 First came Jove's orderly with graceful flight ; 
 
 While far above his gaudy acolyte 
 
 Mimicked his style and motions. Frayed she fled, 
 
 Leaving her charge unleashed ; and overhead 
 
 The eagle brought his wings to hovering pause, 
 
 Till his slow friend arrived might thrust his claws 
 
 Within his victim's fleece. When that was done 
 
 With much ado, the lamb began to run ;
 
 JUNO'S PEACOCK 45 
 
 Dismayed to feel itself so strangely backed, 
 
 Away it frisked. However next to act 
 
 This peacock could not tell, borne fast away 
 
 Like a tall general hasting from the fray 
 
 On milk-white steed, — nobly his purple vest 
 
 Floats outs, and nobly nods his triple crest 
 
 As he flies leaving on the corpse-strewn field, 
 
 Cast in a myrtle-bush, his blameless shield. 
 
 Some Thracian plucks it forth. Why should he fret ? 
 
 One every whit as good his gold can get. 
 
 So on the lamb this sumptuous cavalier 
 
 Was hurried to and fro in mad career. 
 
 Helpless and scared, too ignorant and weak 
 
 To lift in air or slay it with his beak. 
 
 " Help, comrade, help ! " he screeched, " haste and despatch 
 
 This restive beast, against whose woolly thatch 
 
 My untrained beak is proved a very toy, 
 
 Weak as a wren's." " Friend, though I wish thee joy 
 
 In thine affairs," the eagle made reply, 
 
 " Yet by Apollo's all-beholding eye 
 
 Sworn am I ne'er to worry, maim, or kill — 
 
 Ne'er one small drop of blood to shed or spill 
 
 (Nay, not so much as some slight gnat or flea 
 
 Might drink) of aught in air, on land or sea 
 
 To great or lesser godhead dedicate. 
 
 Yet nought forbids me that I lift this freight. 
 
 And to thy mistress' door thy lamb and thee translate." 
 
 Now without further parley he descends 
 
 And plants his feet behind his frighted friend's, 
 
 Who cannot now pluck forth from fleecy trap 
 
 His tangled claws howe'er he tug and flap. 
 
 But buckled to his gift through air must ride
 
 46 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 Posting it willy-nilly to his bride. 
 
 It chanced that Venus drove abroad that night 
 
 Beneath her ranging sister's thrifty light 
 
 On secret visit to each marble shrine, 
 
 Cydonian, Gnidian, and Erycine ; 
 
 So gliding home beneath the peeping davi^n, 
 
 Wondering she saw^ upon the daisied lawn, 
 
 That, bushed with rose and myrtle, round about 
 
 Her Paphian shrine spread its green carpet out, 
 
 A tender lamb that wandered here and there 
 
 Cropping the sacred flowers, nor seemed to care 
 
 For that gay squire who, dozing on its back 
 
 After his crazy vigil, swept the track 
 
 Of its slow pasture, dragging in the trail 
 
 The dew-drenched glories of his opulent tail. 
 
 Smiling the queen drew rein, and thus addressed 
 
 The leader of her team : " Oh trebly blest. 
 
 My gentle dove, in this thy suitor brave ! 
 
 Who, not content thy costly love to crave 
 
 With trivial common gifts, by force or sleight 
 
 Must rob the farms of men for thy delight. 
 
 And perched upon his gift watch out the long chill night." 
 
 Hereat the drowsing peacock raised his head 
 
 And gazed around abashed, discomforted : 
 
 Crestfallen quite, he fain would fly away, 
 
 But knows he cannot, struggle as he may : 
 
 Therefore, resolved to wear a gallant face, 
 
 Even in the very meshes of disgrace. 
 
 Erects his poor wet tail's bedraggled plumes, 
 
 And that proud style and dignity assumes 
 
 Wherewith he holds in awe his cringing fellow-grooms. 
 
 " Sweet lady ! " he began, " kind mistress mine !
 
 JUNOS PEACOCK 47 
 
 Well doth the gracious Oueen of Love divine 
 
 The purpose of my gallant industry, 
 
 And vi^herefore 'neath the shrewd nocturnal sky 
 
 I kept cold vigil. It v^^as love's decree, 
 
 Yea, Lady, 'tv^^as my headlong love of thee 
 
 That sent me to the peopled haunts of man 
 
 (Scorning the dulcet fashion of the swan. 
 
 Or mean seductive gold), to snatch away 
 
 This lusty lamb which at thy feet I lay. 
 
 Proof of my prowess and Love's scorching dart 
 
 That makes a cinder of my amorous heart. 
 
 Behold, 'tis thine, whether to slay outright. 
 
 Or spare to be thy fleecy favourite. 
 
 But if, being found too cumbersome, my gift 
 
 Be doomed to death, then will I make some shift 
 
 Before thy very eyes to spill its life, 
 
 Or call some priest with sacrificial knife 
 
 In proper formal wise — nay, that were best : 
 
 For, Lady, sure it were a sorry jest 
 
 That in thy sight my gaudy plumes should reek 
 
 With brutal slaughter, and that I should speak 
 
 My tender passion's plaint through grim sanguineous 
 
 beak." 
 " Soft you awhile, fair Sir ! " broke in the dove. 
 " I entertain no question of your love : 
 It needed not that you should so forsake 
 Your courtly ways, your carpet style, and take 
 Fierce lessons in some brigand vulture's school, 
 To prove you were a coxcomb and a fool. 
 TJiat long ago we knew. How couldst thou deem 
 So strange a gift of price in my esteem ? 
 Out of my sight convey thyself and it.
 
 48 JUNO'S PEACOCK 
 
 Lest Juno miss her henchman ; for 'tis fit 
 
 Great queens should go well lackeyed. Hence ! and take 
 
 This counsel with thee which my mother spake : 
 
 The fort, she said, of maiden modesty 
 
 Is like an island town that, built on high, 
 
 Looks ever down upon the busy ships 
 
 Coming and going through her harbour's lips. 
 
 Let but a fleet come steering from afar 
 
 On stranger sails equipped for boisterous war, 
 
 A massive chain is drawn across the port. 
 
 The towers are manned ; for foes now care they nought, 
 
 Howe'er the scolding trumpets threat and snarl 
 
 Demanding entrance with rude saucy parle. 
 
 But if the vessel of their sovereign prince 
 
 Approach from distant voyage, he will convince 
 
 (UnfurHng but his flag's bright heraldry) 
 
 The jealous burghers that their lord is nigh. 
 
 Down to the quays the merry people throng ; 
 
 Toward the banquet-hall with dance and song 
 
 Beneath the pealing bells they lead their king along. 
 
 'Tis thus alone true gentleness is won. 
 
 By the heart's destined sovereign, or by none. 
 
 Lay in thy silly wits this lesson, and begone." 
 
 Alas ! poor wretch, befooled, disconsolate ! 
 
 What now can he devise to vindicate 
 
 Affronted dignity and injured pride ? 
 
 He cannot jet and strut, his feet are tied. 
 
 Escape he cannot from his desperate plight 
 
 Rising majestic in offended flight. 
 
 There must he stay derided and bemocked. 
 
 He cannot curse ; his mouth with shame is locked. 
 
 But Venus from her chariot with a smile
 
 JUNO'S PEACOCK 49 
 
 Stepped down toward the weeping wretch, and while 
 Her twinkling fingers wrestled with the fleece, 
 "Enough," she said, "now get thee gone in peace. 
 Jest ne'er was fraught with quainter merriment : 
 So take our thanks for sport most excellent. 
 On, Doves ! 'tis late. — Yet we accept this lamb. 
 For e'en of bootless fool's-love Oueen I am."
 
 FOR A FAN 
 
 Proud mayst thou be, gay lady of this fan, 
 Waving with dainty fingers to and fro 
 The pictured silk where those great regents glow. 
 See how each gallant, bhthe Olympian 
 Presses in wonder rising from the feast 
 Around the horned and bearded infant Pan. 
 Hermes has dropped the hare-skin wrap, and lo ! 
 Holds him aloft on one hand poised, to show 
 His wondrous child, strange blend of god and beast. 
 But most young roguish Bacchus takes delight 
 To see a squire so droll, and — oh the shame ! — 
 Snatches from Ganymede a brim- full bowl, 
 To drench that baby throat with liquid flame. 
 Soon will the pretty snub-nose dance and roll 
 Upon his goatish legs, then in sad plight. 
 Across Jove's table from his father's hand 
 Totter and topple, laugh, and try to stand.
 
 FOR A FAN 51 
 
 II 
 
 Behold, all ye who trifle with this fan, 
 The piteous phght of poor Omnipotence. 
 Alas for lo's hapless innocence- 
 Sweet lo, whom the fond Olympian, 
 Disguising godhead in false mask of man. 
 Has wooed to ruin ! Alas for those immense 
 Brave cloud-compelling hands, reduced to fence 
 His love with vapours thin as best they can ! 
 « Shame on the God ! Poor half-hid thing ! " ye cry. 
 Nay, for yon cruel queen reserve your blame. 
 Whose jealous eye distrusts that tell-tale mist : 
 For she brings home to Zeus his every shame. 
 And pities never a woman he has kissed. 
 Deeming it bliss enough next Pride to He.
 
 Trojan Captives grinding Corn in the 
 Palace of Menelaus 
 
 Grind, grind ! heavy quern ! 
 Why so stubborn ? Why so slow ? 
 Though with all my strength I turn, 
 Yet no faster wilt thou go. 
 Soon will sink the holy Pleiads. 
 One by one to sleep are gone 
 All the six who ground beside me : 
 I am left alone. 
 For my task is still to finish ; 
 Weak I am with toil 
 Grinding meal for dainty Helen, 
 Her for whom Troy bowed unto the soil- 
 Weaker than a fainting lily 
 In a festal basket borne, 
 'Mid her flaunting garden-sisters 
 Lying withered and forlorn. 
 
 Yet I too was once a dainty lady 
 
 In the chamber of my princely husband :
 
 QUERN SONGS S3 
 
 Helen then was nought but Priam's daughter, 
 
 Ate the self-same bread as we, seemed only 
 
 Than us more fair. 
 
 Oh ! the marble palaces of Priam ! 
 
 How beneath their roofs we took our pleasure, 
 
 Delicately dressed in gold and silver — 
 
 Said that we should go like queens for ever 
 
 In raiment rare. 
 
 At the quern I sit and ponder — 
 
 Send my thoughts abroad to wander : 
 
 Would they might for ever roam ! 
 
 Foolish thoughts ! ah why, alack ! 
 
 Must they needs come posting back 
 
 To their dreary home ? 
 
 Here they must be clothed in black. 
 
 Why, when they had learnt to flee 
 
 From this world of rueful things. 
 
 Could they not have kept their wings ? 
 
 Foolish thoughts, what could you lack ? 
 
 You were clad like queens and kings 
 
 There where you should be. 
 
 II 
 
 Why dost thou stoop thy head over thy grinding i* 
 
 Surely it is not heavy still 
 
 With somnolence or grieving ? 
 
 The morning yet is young, and at the quern 
 
 We have but toiled one hour.
 
 54 QUERN SONGS 
 
 And how canst thou be sad ? Have we not all been singing 
 
 Our songs in turn, 
 
 Because we know that singing scares away 
 
 Sad thoughts and haunting grief? 
 
 Take up the song : 'tis thine. In song, they say. 
 
 Even the dungeoned Titans find relief. 
 
 Neither for sorrow nor for weariness 
 
 Over the mill I bow my head : 
 
 But I would listen to the plaintive song 
 
 Sung by the barley grains between the stones. 
 
 They say that once upon ten thousand stalks 
 
 Within a vale they grew, and they remember 
 
 How the oaks and willows round their field 
 
 Could show no leaves more fresh and green than theirs : 
 
 But they were happy then, and proud delight 
 
 They took to see each other turn to gold. 
 
 And feel themselves fast growing up so high 
 
 That soon they thought to overpeer the trees : 
 
 And so they told the trees 
 
 Nodding all their rustling heads together, 
 
 Whene'er the wind passed by : 
 
 And the trees answered nought, but sighed and laughed 
 
 With all their leaves, for they had seen before 
 
 The fate of many and many a yellow field : 
 
 Moreover, with their stature grew their pride 
 
 Until in dream they seemed about to thrust 
 
 Their bearded heads through the high roof of Night, 
 
 And wed their gold unto the silver stars : 
 
 Nevertheless one day the reapers came, 
 
 And boys behind, who stooping filled their arms 
 
 And to the binders gave the nodding sheaves ; ■
 
 QUERN SONGS 55 
 
 While with shrill song and chatter they outdid 
 
 The blithe cicala sitting music-mad 
 
 Within the leaves aloft. 
 
 And on the threshing-floor what pain was theirs, 
 
 When of their golden armour thev were stripped, 
 
 They say that we know well. 
 
 Now they have come between the crushing stones, 
 
 Yet are not sad, for they have heard us sing 
 
 Fair Helen's fame, and each fond grain has hope 
 
 That it by chance may come 
 
 Between the lips of one so beautiful. 
 
 But wherefore do you weep ? Had then my singing power 
 
 To touch the hidden springs of woe ? 
 
 I have but sung the fate of yellow corn ; 
 
 And yet you weep as though 
 
 Of our own piteous tale had been my song. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by R. & R. Clark, Limited, Edinburgh
 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 1 
 
 FACULTY 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 JUNl 
 
 8 1971 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 G A Y L O R D 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U S A,
 
 UC SOUTHFRM Rrr,lONAl I IRRARV FAni ITY 
 
 AA 000 555 325 o 
 
 HIVER 
 
 yEflSIDE LIBRARY ^ 
 
 3 1210 01269 4608
 
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