Chapter V: Book II: Hades (3)

And then again A youthful shade I saw, a comely boy, With lip and cheek just touched with manly down, And strong limbs wearing Spring; in mien and garb A youthful chieftain, with a perfect face Of fresh young beauty, clustered curls divine, And chiselled features like a sculptured god, But warm and breathing life; only the eyes, The fair large eyes, were full of dreaming thought, And seemed to gaze beyond the world of sight, On a hid world of beauty. Him I stayed, Accosting with soft words of courtesy; And, on a bank of scentless flowers reclined, He answered thus: "Not for the garish sun I long, nor for the splendours of high noon In this dim land I languish; for of yore Full often, when the swift chase swept along Through the brisk morn, or when my comrades called To wrestling, or the foot-race, or to cleave The sunny stream, I loved to walk apart, Self-centred, sole; and when the laughing girls To some fair stripling's oaten melody Made ready for the dance, I heeded not; Nor when to the loud trumpet's blast and blare My peers rode forth to battle. For, one eve, In Latmos, after a long day in June, I stayed to rest me on a sylvan hill, Where often youth and maid were wont to meet Towards moonrise; and deep slumber fell on me Musing on Love, just as the ruddy orb Rose on the lucid night, set in a frame Of blooming myrtle and sharp tremulous plane; Deep slumber fell, and loosed my limbs in rest.

Then, as the full orb poised upon the peak, There came a lovely vision of a maid, Who seemed to step as from a golden car Out of the low-hung moon. No mortal form, Such as ofttimes of yore I knew and clasped At twilight 'mid the vines at the mad feast Of Dionysus, or the fair maids cold Who streamed in white processions to the shrine Of the chaste Virgin Goddess; but a shape Richer and yet more pure. No thinnest veil Obscured her; but each exquisite limb revealed, Gleamed like a golden statue subtly wrought By a great sculptor on the architrave Of some high temple-front--only in her The form was soft and warm, and charged with life, And breathing. As I seemed to gaze on her, Nearer she drew and gazed; and as I lay Supine, as in a spell, the radiance stooped And kissed me on the lips, a chaste, sweet kiss, Which drew my spirit with it. So I slept Each night upon the hill, until the dawn Came in her silver chariot from the East, And chased my Love away. But ever thus Dissolved in love as in a heaven-sent dream, Whenever the bright circle of the moon Climbed from the hills, whether in leafy June Or harvest-tide, or when they leapt and pressed Red-thighed the spouting must, I walked apart From all, and took no thought for mortal maid, Nor nimble joys of youth; but night by night I stole, when all were sleeping, to the hill, And slumbered and was blest; until I grew Possest by love so deep, I seemed to live In slumber only, while the waking day Showed faint as any vision. So I turned Paler and paler with the months, and climbed The steep with laboured steps and difficult breath, But still I climbed. Ay, though the wintry frost Chained fast the streams and whitened all the fields, I sought my mistress through the leafless groves, And slumbered and was happy, till the dawn Returning found me stretched out, cold and stark, With life's fire nigh burnt out. Till one clear night, When the birds shivered in the pines, and all The inner heavens stood open, lo! she came, Brighter and kinder still, and kissed my eyes And half-closed lips, and drew my soul through them, And in one precious ecstasy dissolved My life. And thenceforth, ever on the hill I lie unseen of man; a cold, white form, Still young, through all the ages; but my soul, Clothed in this thin presentment of old days, Walks this dim land, where never moonrise comes, Nor day-break, but a twilight waiting-time, No more; and, ah! how weary! Yet I judge My lot a higher far than his who spends His youth on swift hot pleasure, quickly past; Or theirs, my equals', who through long calm years Grew sleek in dull content of wedded lives And fair-grown offspring. Many a day for them, While I was wandering here, and my bones bleached Upon the rocks, the sweet autumnal sun Beamed, and the grapes grew purple. Many a day They heaped up gold, they knelt at festivals, They waxed in high report and fame of men, They gave their girls in marriage; while for me Upon the untrodden peaks, the cold, grey morn, The snows, the rains, the winds, the untempered blaze, Beat year by year, until I turned to stone, And the great eagles shrieked at me, and wheeled Affrighted. Yet I judge it better indeed To seek in life, as now I know I sought, Some fair impossible Love, which slays our life, Some fair ideal raised too high for man; And failing to grow mad, and cease to be, Than to decline, as they do who have found Broad-paunched content and weal and happiness: And so an end. For one day, as I know, The high aim unfulfilled fulfils itself; The deep, unsatisfied thirst is satisfied; And through this twilight, broken suddenly, The inmost heaven, the lucent stars of God, The Moon of Love, the Sun of Life; and I, I who pine here--I on the Latmian hill Shall soar aloft and find them." With the word, There beamed a shaft of dawn athwart the skies, And straight the sentinel thrush within the yew Sang out reveille to the hosts of day, Soldierly; and the pomp and rush of life Began once more, and left me there alone Amid the awaking world.

Nay, not alone. One fair shade lingered in the fuller day, The last to come, when now my dream had grown Half mixed with waking thoughts, as grows a dream In summer mornings when the broader light Dazzles the sleeper's eyes; and is most fair Of all and best remembered, and becomes Part of our waking life, when older dreams Grow fainter, and are fled. So this remained The fairest of the visions that I knew, Most precious and most dear. The increasing light Shone through her, finer than the thinnest shade, And yet most full of beauty; golden wings, From her fair shoulders springing, seemed to lift Her stainless feet from the cold ground and snatch Their wearer into air; and in her eyes Was such fair glance as comes from virgin love, Long chastened and triumphant. Every trace Of earth had vanished from her, and she showed As one who walks a saint already in life, Virgin or mother. Immortality Breathed from those radiant eyes which yet had passed Between the gates of death. I seemed to hear The Soul of mortals speaking: "I was born Of a great race and mighty, and was grown Fair, as they said, and good, and kept a life Pure from all stain of passion. Love I knew not, Who was absorbed in duty; and the Mother Of gods and men, seeing my life more calm Than human, hating my impassive heart, Sent down her perfect son in wrath to earth, And bade him break me. But when Eros came, It did repent him of the task, for Love Is kin to Duty. And within my life I knew miraculous change, and a soft flame Wherefrom the snows of Duty flushed to rose, And the chill icy flow of mind was turned To a warm stream of passion. Long I lived Not knowing what had been, nor recognized A Presence walking with me through my life, As if by night, his face and form concealed: A gracious voice alone, which none but I Might hear, sustained me, and its name was Love.

Not as the earthly loves which throb and flush Round earthly shrines was mine, but a pure spirit, Lovelier than all embodied love, more pure And wonderful; but never on his eyes I looked, which still were hidden, and I knew not The fashion of his nature; for by night, When visual eyes are blind, but the soul sees, Came he, and bade me seek not to enquire Or whence he came or wherefore. Nor knew I His name. And always ere the coming day, As if he were the Sun-god, lingering With some too well-loved maiden, he would rise And vanish until eve. But all my being Thrilled with my fair unearthly visitant To higher duty and more glorious meed Of action than of old, for it was Love That came to me, who might not know his name.

Thus, ever rapt by dreams divine, I knew The scorn that comes from weaker souls, which miss, Being too low of nature, the great joy Revealed to others higher; nay, my sisters, Who being of one blood with me, made choice To tread the lower ways of daily life, Grew jealous of me, bidding me take heed Lest haply 'twas some monstrous fiend I loved, Such as in fable ofttimes sought and won The innocent hearts of maids. Long time I held My love too dear for doubt, who was so sweet And lovable. But at the last the sneers, The mystery which hid him, the swift flight Before the coming dawn, the shape concealed, The curious girlish heart, these worked on me With an unsatisfied thirst. Not his own words: 'Dear, I am with thee only while I keep My visage hidden; and if thou once shouldst see My face, I must forsake thee: the high gods Link Love with Faith, and he withdraws himself From the full gaze of Knowledge'--not even these Could cure me of my longing, or the fear Those mocking voices worked; who fain would learn The worst that might befall. And one sad night, Just as the day leapt from the hills and brought The hour when he should go: with tremulous hands, Lighting my midnight lamp in fear, I stood Long time uncertain, and at length turned round And gazed upon my love. He lay asleep, And oh, how fair he was! The flickering light Fell on the fairest of the gods, stretched out In happy slumber. Looking on his locks Of gold, and faultless face and smile, and limbs Made perfect, a great joy and trembling took me Who was most blest of women, and in awe And fear I stooped to kiss him. One warm drop-- From the full lamp within my trembling hand, Or a glad tear from my too happy eyes, Fell on his shoulder. Then the god unclosed His lovely eyes, and with great pity spake: 'Farewell! There is no Love except with Faith, And thine is dead! Farewell! I come no more.' And straightway from the hills the full red sun Leapt up, and as I clasped my love again, The lovely vision faded from his place, And came no more. Then I, with breaking heart, Knowing my life laid waste by my own hand, Went forth and would have sought to hide my life Within the stream of Death; but Death came not To aid me who not yet was meet for Death.

Then finding that Love came not back to me, I thought that in the temples of the gods Haply he dwelt, and so from fane to fane I wandered over earth, and knelt in each, Enquiring for my Love; and I would ask The priests and worshippers, 'Is this Love's shrine? Sirs, have you seen the god?' But never at all I found him. For some answered, 'This is called The Shrine of Knowledge;' and another, 'This, The Shrine of Beauty;' and another, 'Strength;' And yet another, 'Youth.' And I would kneel And say a prayer to my Love, and rise And seek another. Long, o'er land and sea, I wandered, till I was not young or fair, Grown wretched, seeking my lost Love; and last, Came to the smiling, hateful shrine where ruled The queen of earthly love and all delight, Cypris, but knelt not there, but asked of one Who seemed her priest, if Eros dwelt with her.

Then to the subtle-smiling goddess' self They led me. She with hatred in her eyes: 'What! thou to seek for Love, who art grown thin And pale with watching! He is not for thee. What Love is left for such? Thou didst despise Love, and didst dwell apart. Love sits within The young maid's eyes, making them beautiful. Love is for youth, and joy, and happiness; And not for withered lives. Ho! bind her fast. Take her and set her to the vilest tasks, And bend her pride by solitude and tears, Who will not kneel to me, but dares to seek A disembodied love. My son has gone And left thee for thy fault, and thou shalt know The misery of my thralls.' Then in her house They bound me to hard tasks and vile, and kept My life from honour, chained among her slaves And lowest ministers, taking despite And injury for food, and set to bind Their wounds whom she had tortured, and to feed The pitiful lives which in her prisons pent Languished in hopeless pain. There is no sight Of suffering but I saw it, and was set To succour it; and all my woman's heart Was torn with the ineffable miseries Which love and life have worked; and dwelt long time In groanings and in tears. And then, oh joy! Oh miracle! once more at length again I felt Love's arms around me, and the kiss Of Love upon my lips, and in the chill Of deepest prison cells, 'mid vilest tasks, The glow of his sweet breath, and the warm touch Of his invisible hand, and his sweet voice, Ay, sweeter than of old, and tenderer, Speak to me, pierce me, hold me, fold me round With arms Divine, till all the sordid earth Was hued like heaven, and Life's dull prison-house Turned to a golden palace, and those low tasks Grew to be higher works and nobler gains Than any gains of knowledge, and at last He whispered softly, 'Dear, unclose thine eyes. Thou mayst look on me now. I go no more, But am thine own for ever.' Then with wings Of gold we soared, I looking in his eyes, Over yon dark broad river, and this dim land, Scarce for an instant staying till we reached The inmost courts of heaven. But sometimes still I come here for a little, and speak a word Of peace to those who wait. The slow wheel turns, The cycles round themselves and grow complete, The world's year whitens to the harvest-tide, And one word only am I sent to say To those dear souls, who wait here, or who now Breathe earthly air--one universal word To all things living, and the word is 'Love.'"

Then soared she visibly before my gaze, And the heavens took her, and I knew my eyes Had seen the soul of man, the deathless soul, Defeated, struggling, purified, and blest.

Then all the choir of happy waiting shades, Heroes and queens, fair maidens and brave youths, Swept by me, rhythmic, slow, as if they trod Some unheard measure, passing where I stood In fair procession, each with a faint smile Upon the lip, signing "Farewell, oh shade! It shall be well with thee, as 'tis with us, If only thou art true. The world of Life, The world of Death, are but opposing sides Of one great orb, and the Light shines on both. Oh, happy happy shade! Farewell! Farewell!" And so they passed away.

END OF BOOK II.