There is delight in singing, tho' none hear Beside the singer; and there is delight In praising, tho' the praiser sit alone And see the prais'd far off him, far above. 5 Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world's, Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee, Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale, No man hath walked along our roads with step So active, so inquiring eye, or tongue 10 So varied in discourse. But warmer climes1 Give brighter plumage, strong wing: the breeze Of Alpine heights thou playest with, borne on Beyond Sorrento and Amalfi, where And happy Ares shouted far below. 10 Where flows Anapos thro' anemones, 10 Temper a graver with a lighter song. THRASYMEDES AND EUNÖE 1846 Who will away to Athens with me? who Loves choral songs and maidens crown'd with flowers, Unenvious? mount the pinnace; hoist the sail. I promise ye, as many as are here, 5 Ye shall not, while ye tarry with me, taste boss'd With no vile figures of loose languid boors, But such as gods have lived with and have led. The sea smiles bright before us. What white sail Plays yonder? What pursues it? Like two hawks 15 Away they fly. Let us away in time To overtake them. Are they menaces Enraged at her defender? Hippias! The Siren waits thee, singing song for 20 His sister borne from the Cecropian port1 By Thrasymedes. And reluctantly? Ask, ask the maiden; I have no reply. "Brother! O brother Hippias! O, if love, If pity, ever touch'd thy breast, forbear! 25 Strike not the brave, the gentle, the beloved, My Thrasymedes, with his cloak alone harm." "Didst thou not once before," cried Hip "Nothing, sir, Shall ever turn it. I can die but once And love but once. O Eunöe! farewell!" "Nay, she shall see what thou canst bear for her." 750 father! shut me in my chamber, shut me In my poor mother's tomb, dead or alive, me. "Not yet: come on. And lag not thou behind, 80 Pirate of virgin and of princely hearts! Before the people and before the goddess Thou hadst evinced the madness of thy passion, And now wouldst bear from home and plenteousness To poverty and exile this my child." 85 Then shuddered Thrasymedes, and exclaim'd, "I see my crime; I saw it not before. The daughter of Pisistratos was born Neither for exile nor for poverty, Ah! nor for me!" He would have wept, but one 90 Might see him, and weep worse. The prince unmoved Strode on, and said, "Tomorrow shall the people, 15 And tears dropp'd down it, but the king of men Replied not. Then the maiden spake once more. "O father! sayst thou nothing? Hear'st thou not Me, whom thou ever hast, until this hour, 20 To hear my voice amid the voice of birds, When it was inarticulate as theirs, And the down deadened it within the nest?" He moved her gently from him, silent still, And this, and this alone, brought tears from her, 25 Altho' she saw fate nearer: then with sighs, "I thought to have laid down my hair before Benignant Artemis, and not have dimmed Her polish'd altar with my virgin blood; I thought to have selected the white flowers 30 To please the Nymphs, and to have ask'd of each By name, and with no sorrowful regret, Whether, since both my parents will'd the change, I might at Hymen's feet bend my clipp'd brow; And (after those who mind us girls the most) 35 Adore our own Athena,1 that she would Regard me mildly with her azure eyes, But father! to see you no more, and see Your love, O father! go ere I am gone" Gently he moved her off, and drew her back, 40 Bending his lofty head far over hers, And the dark depths of nature heaved and burst. He turn'd away; not far, but silent still. She now first shudder'd; for in him, so nigh, So long a silence seem'd the approach of death, 45 And like it. Once again she rais'd her voice. "O father! if the ships are now detain 'd, And all your vows move not the gods above, With rose and myrtle if they were inborn; The sword from Ares, thunderbolt from 15 And whom in his chill cave the mutable Of mind, Poseidon, the sea-king, reveres, And whom his brother, stubborn Dis, hath pray'd To turn in pity the averted cheek Of her he bore away, with promises, 20 Nay, with loud oath before dread Styr itself, From all the valleys, like bright rivulets Gurgling with gladness, wave outrunning wave, And thought it hard he might not also go And offer up one prayer, and press one hand, 1 See Lowell's Rhacus. 2 raised ornaments 3 Proserpina. He knew not whose. The father call'd him in, 30 And said, "Son Rhaicos! those are idle games; Long enough I have lived to find them so." And ere he ended sighed, as old men do Always, to think how idle such games are. "I have not yet," thought Rhaicos in his heart, 35 And wanted proof. "Suppose thou go and help Of those who hurried to the city-gate. Upon the place where first the axe should 45 He held it upright. "There are bees about, Or wasps, or hornets," said the cautious eld, "Look sharp, O son of Thallinos!" The youth Inclined his ear, afar, and warily, And cavern'd in his hand. He heard a buzz 50 At first, and then the sound grew soft and Of graceful platan1 by the river-side? Hamad. Lovest thou well thy father's house? I love it, well I love it, yet would leave For thine, where 'er it be, my father's house, 90 With all the marks upon the door, that show My growth at every birthday since the third, And all the charms, o'erpowering evil eyes, My mother nail'd for me against my bed, And the Cydonian2 bow (which thou shalt see) 95 Won in my race last spring from Eutychos. Hamad. Bethink thee what it is to leave a home Thou never yet hast left, one night, one day. 1 plane tree of Cydonia (an ancient city on the coast of Crete, famous for its archers) Hamad. Reverence the higher Powers; nor deem amiss Of her who pleads to thee, and would repay Ask not how much-but very much. Rise not; No, Rhaicos, no! Without the nuptial vow 140 Love is unholy. Swear to me that none Of mortal maids shall ever taste thy kiss, Rhaicos. Hearken, all gods above! O O Here! Let my vow be ratified! 145 But wilt thou come into my father's house? Hamad. Nay; and of mine I cannot give thee part. More wax than he will burn to all the gods. Why fallest thou upon thy face? Some thorn 155 May scratch it, rash young man! Rise up; for shame! Rhaicos. For shame I can not rise. O pity me! I dare not sue for love-but do not hate! more, But many days: let me love on-unloved! 160 I aimed too high: on my head the bolt Falls back, and pierces to the very brain. Hamad. Go-rather go, than make me say I love. Within it; thy thin robe too ill protects Acorn may do. Here's none. Another day Rhaicos. O sight for gods! ye men be- The Aphrodite. Is she there below? 135 The Hellespont, and brought his kindred woe? Rhaicos. If happiness is immortality, me now, I claim my kiss. Hamad. Do men take first, then claim? Do thus the seasons run their course with them? Her lips were seal'd, her head sank on his breast. 'Tis said that laughs were heard within the wood: But who should hear them?-and whose laughs and why? |