Tuesday 29 March 2022

Tuesday's Serials: "The Epic of Hades" by Lewis Morris (in English) - XII

 

BOOK III - OLYMPUS.

 

                                                      But I, my gaze

Following the soaring soul which now was lost

In the awakening skies, floated with her,

As in a trance, beyond the golden gates

Which separate Earth from Heaven; and to my thought

Gladdened by that broad effluence of light,

This old earth seemed transfigured, and the fields,

So dim and bare, grew green and clothed themselves

With lustrous hues. A fine ethereal air

Played round me as I mused, and filled the soul

With an ineffable content. What need

Of words to tell of things unreached by words?

Or seek to engrave upon the treacherous thought

The fair and fugitive fancies of a dream,

Which vanish ere we fix them?

                                                          But methinks

He knows the scene, who knows the one fair day,

One only and no more, which year by year

In springtime comes, when lingering winter flies,

And lo! the trees blossom in white and pink.

And golden clusters, and the glades are filled

With delicate primrose and deep odorous beds

Of violets, and on the tufted meads

With kingcups starred, and cowslip bells, and blue

Sweet hyacinths, and frail anemones,

The broad West wind breathes softly, and the air

Is tremulous with the lark, and thro' the woods

The soft full-throated thrushes all day long

Flood the green dells with joy, and thro' the dry

Brown fields the sower strides, sowing his seed,

And all is life and song. Or he who first,

Whether in fair free boyhood, when the world

Is his to choose, or when his fuller life

Beats to another life, or afterwards,

Keeping his youth within his children's eyes,

Looks on the snow-clad everlasting hills,

And marks the sunset smite them, and is glad

Of the beautiful fair world.

                                                   A springtide land

It seemed, where East winds came not. Sweetest song

Was everywhere, by glade or sunny plain;

And thro' the golden valleys winding streams

Rippled in glancing silver, and above,

The blue hills rose, and over all a peak,

White, awful, with a constant fleece of cloud

Veiling its summit, towered. Unfailing Day

Lighted it, for no turn of dawn and eve

Came there, nor changing seasons, but a broad

Fixed joy of Being, undisturbed by Time.

 

      There, in a happy glade shut in by groves

Of laurel and sweet myrtle, on a green

And flower-lit lawn, I seemed to see the ghosts

Of the old gods. Upon the gentle slope

Of a fair hill, a joyous company,

The Immortals lay. Hard by, a murmurous stream

Fell through the flowers; below them, space on space,

Laughed the immeasurable plains; beyond,

The mystic mountain soared. Height after height

Of bare rock ledges left the climbing pines,

And reared their giddy, shining terraces

Into the ethereal air. Above, the snows

Of the white summit cleft the fleece of cloud

Which always clothed it round.

 

ARTEMIS

                                                             Ah, fail-and sweet,

Yet with a ghostly fairness, fine and thin,

Those godlike Presences. Not dreams indeed,

But something dream-like, were they. Blessed Shades

Heroic and Divine, as when, in days

When Man was young, and Time, the vivid thought

Translated into Form the unattained

Impossible Beauty of men's dreams, and fixed

The Loveliness in marble.

                                                As with awe

Following my spotless guide, I stood apart,

Not daring to draw near; a shining form

Rose from the throng, and floated, light as air,

To where I trembled. And I knew the face

And form of Artemis, the fair, the pure,

The undefiled. A crescent silvery moon

Shone thro' her locks, and by her side she bore

A quiver of golden darts. At sight of whom

I felt a sudden chill, like his who once

Looked upon her and died; yet could not fear,

Seeing how fair she was. Her sweet voice rang

Clear as a bird's:

                                  "Mortal, what fate hath brought

Thee hither, uncleansed by death? How canst thou breathe

Immortal air, being mortal? Yet fear not,

Since thou art come. For we too are of earth

Whom here thou seest: there were not a heaven

Were there no earth, nor gods, had men not been,

But each the complement of each and grown

The other's creature, is and has its being,

A double essence, Human and Divine.

So that the God is hidden in the man,

And something Human bounds and forms the God;

Which else had shown too great and undefined

For mortal sight, and having no human eye

To see it, were unknown. But we who bore

Sway of old time, we were but attributes

[3]Of the great God who is all Things that be—

The Pillar of the Earth and starry Sky,

The Depth of the great Deep; the Sun, the Moon,

The Word which Makes; the All-compelling Love—

For all Things lie within His Infinite Form."

 

      Even as she spake, a throng of heavenly forms

Floated around me, filling all my soul

With fair unearthly beauty, and the air

With such ambrosial perfume as is born.

When morning bursts upon a tropic sea,

From boundless wastes of flowers; and as I knelt

In rapture, lo! the same clear voice again

From out the throng of gods:

                                                            "Those whom thou seest

Were even as I, embodiments of Him

Who is the Centre of all Life: myself

The Maiden-Queen of Purity; and Strength,

Divine when unabused; Love too, the Spring

And Cause of Things; and Knowledge, which lays bare

Their secret; and calm Duty, Queen of all,

And Motherhood in one; and Youth, which bears,

Beauty of Form and Life and Light, and breathes

The breath of Inspiration; and the Soul,

The particle of God, sent down to man,

Which doth in turn reveal the world and God.

 

      Wherefore it is men called on Artemis,

The refuge of young souls; for still in age

They keep some dim reflection uneffaced

Of a Diviner Purity than comes

To the spring days of youth, when all the world

Smiles, and the rapid blood thro' the young veins

Courses, and all is glad; yet knowing too

That innocence is young—before the soil

And smirch of sadder knowledge, settling on it,

Sully its primal whiteness. So they knelt

At my white shrines, the eager vigorous youths,

To whom life's road showed like a dewy field

In early summer dawns, when to the sound

Of youth's clear voice, and to the cheerful rush

Of the tumultuous feet and clamorous tongues

Careering onwards, fair and dappled fawns,

Strange birds with jewelled plumes, fierce spotted pards,

Rise in the joyous chase, to be caught and bound

By the young conqueror; nor yet the charm

Of sensual ease allures. And they knelt too,

The pure sweet maidens fair and fancy-free,

Whose innocent virgin hearts shrank from the touch

Of passion as from wrong—sweet moonlit lives

Which fade, and pale, and vanish, in the glare

Of Love's hot noontide: these came robed in white,

With holy hymns and soaring liturgies:

And so men fabled me, a huntress now,

Borne thro' the flying woodlands, fair and free;

And now the pale cold Moon, Light without warmth,

Zeal without touch of passion, heavenly love

For human, and the altar for the home.

 

      But oh, how sweet it was to take the love

And awe of my young worshippers; to watch

The pure young gaze and hear the pure young voice

Mount in the hymn, or see the gay troop come

With the first dawn of day, brushing the dew

From the unpolluted fields, and wake to song

The slumbering birds; strong in their innocence!

I did not envy any goddess of all

The Olympian company her votaries!

Ah, happy days of old which now are gone!

A memory and a dream! for now on earth

I rule no longer o'er young willing hearts

In voluntary fealty, which should cease

When Love, with fiery accents calling, woke

The slumbering soul; as now it should for those

Who kneel before the purer, sadder shrine

Which has replaced my own. But ah! too oft,

Not always, but too often, shut from life

Within pale life-long cloisters and the bars

Of deadly convent prisons, year by year,

Age after age, the white souls fade and pine

Which simulate the joyous service free

Of those young worshippers. I would that I

Might loose the captives' chain; or Herakles,

Who was a mortal once."

 

 

HERAKLES

                                                  But he who stood

Colossal at my side:

                                      "I toil no more

On earth, nor wield again the mighty strength

Which Zeus once gave me for the cure of ill.

I have run my race; I have done my work; I rest

For ever from the toilsome days I gave

To the suffering race of men. And yet, indeed,

Methinks they suffer still. Tyrannous growths

And monstrous vex them still. Pestilence lurks

And sweeps them down. Treacheries come, and wars,

And slay them still. Vaulting ambition leaps

And falls in bloodshed still. But I am here

At rest, and no man kneels to me, or keeps

Reverence for strength mighty yet unabused—

Strength which is Power, God's choicest gift, more rare

And precious than all Beauty, or the charm

Of Wisdom, since it is the instrument

Thro' which all Nature works. For now the earth

Is full of meekness, and a new God rules,

Teaching strange precepts of humility

And mercy and forgiveness. Yet I trow

There is no lack of bloodshed and deceit

And groanings, and the tyrant works his wrong

Even as of old; but now there is no arm

Like mine, made strong by Zeus, to beat him down,

Him and his wrong together. Yet I know

I am not all discrowned. The strong brave souls,

The manly tender hearts, whom tale of wrong

To woman or child, to all weak things and small,

Fires like a blow; calling the righteous flush

Of anger to the brow; knotting the cords

Of muscle on the arm; with one desire

To hew the spoiler down, and make an end,

And go their way for others; making light

Of toil and pain, and too laborious days,

And peril; beat unchanged, albeit they serve

A Lord of meekness. For the world still needs

Its champion as of old, and finds him still.

Not always now with mighty sinews and thews

Like mine, though still these profit, but keen brain

And voice to move men's souls to love the right

And hate the wrong; even tho' the bodily form

Be weak, of giant strength, strong to assail

The hydra heads of Evil, and to slay

The monsters that now waste them: Ignorance,

Self-seeking, coward fears, the hate of Man,

Disguised as love of God. These there are still

With task as hard as mine. For what was it

To strive with bodily ills, and do great deeds

Of daring and of strength, and bear the crown,

To his who wages lifelong, doubtful strife

With an impalpable foe; conquering indeed,

But, ere he hears the pæan or sees the pomp

Laid low in the arms of Death? And tho' men cease

To worship at my shrine, yet not the less

I hold, it is the toils I knew, the pains

I bore for others, which have kept the heart

Of manhood undefiled, and nerved the arm

Of sacrifice, and made the martyr strong

To do and bear, and taught the race of men

How godlike 'tis to suffer thro' life, and die

At last for others' good!"

                                              The strong god ceased,

And stood a little, musing; blest indeed,

But bearing, as it seemed, some faintest trace

Of earthly struggle still, not the gay ease

Of the elder heaven-born gods.

 

 

APHRODITÉ

                                                             And then there came

Beauty and Joy in one, bearing the form

Of woman. How to reach with halting words

That infinite Perfection? All have known

The breathing marbles which the Greek has left

Who saw her near, and strove to fix her charms,

And exquisitely failed; or those fair forms

The Painter offered at a later shrine,

And failed. Nay, what are words?—he knows it well

Who loves, or who has loved.

                                                          She with a smile

Playing around her rosy lips; as plays

The sunbeam on a stream:

                                                   "Shall I complain

Men kneel to me no longer, taking to them

Some graver, sterner worship; grown too wise

For fleeting joys of Love? Nay, Love is Youth,

And still the world is young. Still shall I reign

Within the hearts of men, while Time shall last

And Life renews itself. All Life that is,

From the weak things of earth or sea or air,

Which creep or float for an hour; to godlike man—

All know me and are mine. I am the source

And mother of all, both gods and men; the spring

Of Force and Joy, which, penetrating all

Within the hidden depths of the Unknown,

Sets the blind seed of Being, and from the bond

Of incomplete and dual Essences

Evolves the harmony which is Life. The world

Were dead without my rays, who am the Light

Which vivifies the world. Nay, but for me,

The universal order which attracts

Sphere unto sphere, and keeps them in their paths

For ever, were no more. All things are bound

Within my golden chain, whose name is Love.

 

      And if there be, indeed, some sterner souls

Or sunk in too much learning, or hedged round

By care and greed, or haply too much rapt

By pale ascetic fervours, to delight

To kneel to me, the universal voice

Scorns them as those who, missing willingly

The good that Nature offers, dwell unblest

Who might be blest, but would not. Every voice

Of bard in every age has hymned me. All

The breathing marbles, all the heavenly hues

Of painting, praise me. Even the loveless shades

Of dim monastic cloisters show some gleam,

Tho' faint, of me. Amid the busy throngs

Of cities reign I, and o'er lonely plains,

Beyond the ice-fields of the frozen North,

And the warm waves of undiscovered seas.

 

      For I was born out of the sparkling foam

Which lights the crest of the blue mystic wave,

Stirred by the wandering breath of Life's pure dawn

From a young soul's calm depths. There, without voice,

Stretched on the breathing curve of a young breast,

Fluttering a little, fresh from the great deep

Of life, and creamy as the opening rose,

Naked I lie, naked yet unashamed,

While youth's warm tide steals round me with a kiss,

And floods each limb with fairness. Shame I know not—

Shame is for wrong, and not for innocence—

The veil which Error grasps to hide itself

From the awful Eye. But I, I lie unveiled

And unashamed—the livelong day I lie,

The warm wave murmuring to me; and, all night,

Hidden in the moonlit caves of happy Sleep,

I dream until the morning and am glad.

 

      Why should I seek to clothe myself, and hide

The treasure of my Beauty? Shame may wait

On those for whom 'twas given. The sties of sense

Are none of mine; the brutish, loveless wrong,

The venal charm, the simulated flush

Of fleshly passion, they are none of mine,

Only corruptions of me. Yet I know

The counterfeit the stronger, since gross souls

And brutish sway the earth; and yet I hold

That sense itself is sacred, and I deem

'Twere better to grow soft and sink in sense

Than gloat o'er blood and wrong.

                                                                                My kingdom is

Over infinite grades of being. All breathing things,

From the least crawling insect to the brute,

From brute to man, confess me. Yet in man

I find my worthiest worship. Where man is,

A youth and a maid, a youth and a maid, nought else

Is wanting for my temple. Every clime

Kneels to me—the long breaker swells and falls

Under the palms, mixed with the merry noise

Of savage bridals, and the straight brown limbs

Know me, and over all the endless plains

I reign, and by the tents on the hot sand

And sea-girt isles am queen, and on the side

Of silent mountains, where the white cots gleam

Upon the green hill pastures, and no sound

But the thunder of the avalanche is borne

To the listening rocks around; and in fair lands[254]

Where all is peace; where thro' the happy hush

Of tranquil summer evenings, 'mid the corn,

Or thro' cool arches of the gadding vines,

The lovers stray together hand in hand,

Hymning my praise; and by the stately streets

Of echoing cities—over all the earth,

Palace and cot, mountain and plain and sea,

The burning South, the icy North, the old

And immemorial East, the unbounded West,

No new god comes to spoil me utterly—

All worship and are mine!"

                                                      With a sweet smile

Upon her rosy mouth, the goddess ceased;

And when she spake no more, the silence weighed

As heavy on my soul as when it takes

Some gracious melody, and leaves the ear

Unsatisfied and longing, till the fount

Of sweetness springs again.

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