Fringilla: Some Tales In Verse Part 12

"There is no other way for love to flow, Whenever it springs in a woman's breast; With the tide of its own heart it must go, And run contrary to all the rest."

_He_

"Then fill the sweet cup of your hand, my love, And pledge me your maiden faith thereon, By the touch of the letter'd stone above, And the holy water of Saint John."

_She_

"Oh, what shall I say? My heart sinks low; My fingers are cold, and my hand too flat, Is love to be measured by handfuls so; And you know that I love you--without that."

They stooped, in the gleam of the faint light, over The print of themselves on the limpid gloom; And she lifted her full palm toward her lover, With her lips preparing the words of doom.

But the warm heart rose, and the cold hand fell, And the pledge of her faith sprang sweet and clear, From a holier source than the old Saint's well, From the depth of a woman's love--a tear.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 128.]

PAUSIAS AND GLYCERA; OR, THE FIRST FLOWER-PAINTER

A STORY IN THREE SCENES

(_Plin. Nat. Hist., x.x.xv. ii_)

Scene I:--_Outside the gate of Sicyon--Morning. Glycera weaving garlands, Pausias stands admiring._

$Pausias$

"YE G.o.ds, I thought myself the Prince of Art, By Phoebus, and the Muses set apart, To smite the critic with his own complaint, And teach the world the proper way to paint.

But lo, a young maid trips out of a wood, And what becomes of all I understood?

[Ill.u.s.tration: 132.]

I stand and stare; I could not draw a line, If ninety Muses came, instead of nine.

Thy name, fair maiden, is a debt to me; Teach him to speak, whom thou hast taught to see.

Myself already some repute have won, For I am Pausias, Brietes' son.

To boast behoves me not, nor do I need, But often wish my friends to win the meed.

So shall they now; no more will I pursue The beaten track, but try what thou hast shown, New forms, new curves, new harmonies of tone, New dreams of heaven, and how to make them true."

$Glycera$

"Fair Sir, 'tis only what I plucked this morn, Kind nature's gift, ere you and I were born.

Through mossy woods, and watered vales, I roam, While day is young, and bring my treasure home; Each lovely bell so tenderly I bear, It knoweth not my fingers from the air, Lo now, they scarce acknowledge their surprise, And how the dewdrops sparkle in their eyes!"

$Pausias$

"Because the sun s.h.i.+nes out of thine. But hush, To praise a face praiseworthy, makes it blush.

I am not of the youths who find delight, In every pretty thing that meets their sight My father is the sage of Sicyon; And I--well, he is proud of such a son."

$Glycera$

"And proud am I, my mother's child to be, And earn for her the life she gave to me, Her name is Myrto of the silver hair, Not famed for wisdom, but loved everywhere."

$Pausias$

"Then whence thine art? Hath Phoebus given thee boon Of wreath and posy, fillet and festoon?

Of tint and grouping, balance, depth, and tone-- Lo, I could cast my palette down, and groan!"

$Glycera$

"No art, fair sir, hath ever crossed my thought, The lesson I delight in comes untaught.

The flowers around me take their own sweet way, They tell me what they wish--and I obey.

Unlike poor us, they feel no spleen or spite But earn their joy, oy ministering delight.

So loved and cherished, each may well suppose Itself at home again just where it grows.

No dread have they of what the Fates may bring, But trust their G.o.ds, and breathe perpetual Spring."

$Pausias$

"Fair child of Myrto, simple-hearted maid, Thy innocence doth arrogance upbraid.

Ye G.o.ds, I pray you make a flower of me; That I may dwell with nature, and with thee."

$Glycera$

"I see the brave sun leap the city wall!

The gates swing wide; I hear the herald's call.

The Archon ham proclaimed the market-day; And mother will shed tears at my delay.

The priest of Zeus hath ordered garlands three; And while I tarry, who will wait for me?"

$Pausias$

"No picture have I sold for many a moon, But fortune must improve her habits soon; Then will I purchase all thy stock-in-trade, And thou shalt lead me to thy bower of green, There will I paint the flowers, and thee their Queen-- The Queen of dowers, that nevermore shall fade."

$Glycera$

"I know a wood-nymph, who her dwelling hath Among the leaves, and far beyond the path, With myrtle and with jasmin roofed across, Enlaced with vine, and carpeted with moss, Whose only threshold is a plaited brook, Whereby the primrose at herself may look; While birds of song melodious make the air-- But oh! I must not take a stranger there."

$Pausias$

"Nay, but a friend No stranger now am I.

Good art is pledge of perfect modesty.

From chastened heights the painter glanceth down; No maid can fear a youth who loves renown."

$Glycera$

"Thy words are trim, If mother deems them true, Thou shalt come with me. But till then, adieu!" [Exit.

$Pausias$