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I sang of the sword bound with ivory, My brother's spoil from distant Babylon.
I saw my hapless country's s.h.i.+p tossed here And there, and beaten by the giant waves Of anarchy; and with my golden Lyre, Whose voice is mightier than the wild fury Of a tempestuous sea, I called on War, The War who revels in men's blood, to come As a destroyer or deliverer.
And when the war did come in savage din, Brought upon Lesbos by the might of Athens, With heart exultant, I saluted him: "Hail, war of glory!"
Yet, alas and thrice Alas! Amidst the world of death and ruins, Though eager warrior and heavy armed, I felt the solid earth beneath me shake; My vengefulness, fade into fleeting mist; My breastplate, press on me like a nightmare; And my white-crested helmet, like a tombstone!
Confusion was my harbor; and I felt In me Life's longing win the victory.
And while the nations twain, like maddened bulls Goad-driven, rushed upon each other's death, And stern Alecto spread about the flames Of Tartarus, I saw before mine eyes --O sight enchanting!--Lesbos' luring sh.o.r.es!
Never before were they so beautiful With love and verdant! There I gazed on Lycus, The boy with eyes and hair coal-black that never Before had touched my heart so powerfully.
And the Muse Sappho of the honeyed smile Glittered before me, pure and violet crowned; And her strange modesty bewitched my tongue With power unwonted until then; and I, The strong, silently feasted on her beauty!
And while about the maddened Ares raged, Reaper of men and vanquisher of rocks, With my soul's eyes, I followed on the trail Of the Lyre-G.o.d, who pa.s.sed that way, returning From the Hyperboreans' land. He pa.s.sed Aloft, crowned with a golden diadem, Upon a chariot drawn by snow-white swans, Towards his Delphic palaces, flower-decked, With nightingales and April on his train.
Oh, would that I might live to touch them! Would That I might hold their charms in my embrace, Those charms so sweet and guileful and divine!
And at the thought--alas, and thrice alas!-- I threw my trusted sword and s.h.i.+eld away, And fled, a shameful coward and a traitor!
FRAGMENTS FROM THE SONG TO THE SUN 1899
_IMAGINATION_
_Imagination, mistress, come!
Come thou leading master, mind!
And you, O tireless workers, come, Water-Fairies of the Rhythm!
Come, and from Desire's great depths, And from the Reason's lofty heights, Bring, oh bring me lasting flowers Wrought on marble and on gold!
Bring me words of splendid sound!
Build with them the palace high!
And within it raise aloft The Sun's image all-transcending Wrought of sunlight gleaming bright!_
THE G.o.dS
And the first-born man beheld The sun rise in the east; And from within his bosom lo, A stream of music rose, An answer sweet to the sun's light, A music stream of hymns, Countless words and countless praises To the fountain of the day!
And--O miracle!--all hymns And countless words and praises Spread in waves from end to end!
And taking flesh in time, They became great G.o.ds of light And signs of harmony!
MY G.o.d
Wounded with the mighty love Of my mistress Life, I wander on, her loyal herald And her wors.h.i.+pper.
To thy mystic suppers call Me not, O Galilean, Prophet of the misty dream, Denier of things that are!
Crowned with lotus, show me not Nirvana's senseless bliss!
Yet, do thou, O Sun, s.h.i.+ne forth About, within, above; s.h.i.+ne upon my love and make A world of the Earth planet!
s.h.i.+ne life-giving with thy light, O my Sun and G.o.d!
HELEN
_... She gave not me, but made a breathing image Of the light air of heaven and gave that To royal Priam's son! And yet he thought That he had me--a vain imagining!..._
EURIPIDES, _Helen_, 33-36.
Helen am I! In the Sun's fountain Have I taken birth!
I am the Sun-G.o.d's golden dream, And unto him I go!
Not about me, but about Mine image, which the G.o.ds Had wrought, life's perfect counterfeit, Recklessly G.o.ds and heroes Plunged into war and war's destruction!
For the Cimmerian Enchanter carried far away As his own mate my shade Thrice-beautiful, that rose to life From Night's embrace in an Enchanted land and hour. I am The bride intangible, Inviolable, beyond all reach!
Helen am I!
THE LYRE
I know a lyre that is as priceless As a sacred amulet; A spirit with a master hand Made it and cast it here.
No mortal hand of skill or love Or power rouses it, Nor makes it answer to the touch With sound or voice or sigh.
Even the wise and beautiful, The northwind and the breeze Cannot awaken the sweet lyre!
Only the Sun-G.o.d's beams, They with one kiss alone can make Its sun-enamored strings Sing Siren-like!
GIANTS' SHADOWS
Like moanings of the sea, I hear Voices ascend from darkness: Are they the giants' shadows moving?
--Shadow, who art thou? Speak!
--I am the Telamonian!
And see, within me I Close the whole sun that never sets Though Hades yawn about; Weep not for me!
--And thou beside him?
--The heart of Teutons' land Brought me to life. A maker, I, Maker sublime of worlds Olympian, have even here In Tartarus' dark realm One longing for my heart, one thirst: I long and thirst for light!
