Collected Works (Vol. II)

ACTUS QUARTUS 107 For none of all the sons of men That hath known Artemis, again Turns to the warmer earth, or vows His secrets to another spouse. The moon resolves her beauty in The sea’s deep kisses salt and keen ; The sea assumes the lunar light, And he—their eremite ! In their calm intercourse and kiss Even hell itself no longer is ; For nothing in their love abides That passes not beneath their tides, And whoso bathes in light of theirs, And water, changes unawares To be no separate soul, but be Himself the moon and sea. Not all the wealth that flowers shed, And sacred streams, on that calm head; Not all the earth’s spell-weaving dream And scent of new-turned earth shall seem Again indeed his mother’s breast To breathe like sleep and give him rest; Fe lives or dies in subtler swoon Between the sea and moon. So standing, gliding, undeterred By any her alluring word That calls from older forest glades, My soul forgets the gentle maids That wooed me in the scarlet bowers, And golden cluster-woof of flowers ; Forgets itself, content to be Between the moon and sea. No passion stirs their depth, nor moves ; No life disturbs their sweet dead loves ; No being holds a crown or throne; They are, and I in them, alone : Only some lute-player grown star Is heard like whispering flowers afar ; And some divided, single tune Sobs from the sea and moon. Amid thy mountains shall I rise, O moon, and float about thy skies? Beneath thy waters shall I roam, O sea, and call thy valleys home? Or on Daedalian oarage fare Forth in the interlunar air? Imageless mirror-life ! to be Sole between moon and sea. CHORUS. No song can lure us while he sings so well. JASON. But look! I sce entrancing woiman-forms That beckon—fairy-like and not of earth. So, fitter than the bed of this my queen To rest heroic limbs ! ) MEDEA. The wretched one ! Thou knowest that their kiss is death ! JASON. Perhaps. It were their kiss. MEDEA. Are not my kisses sweet? JASON. Listen, they sing. This time the words ring true, Sailing across that blue abyss between. Like young birds winging their bright flight the notes Glimmer across the sea. MEDEA. They sing, they sing ! PARTHENOPE. O mortal, tossed on life’s unceasing ocean, Whose waves of joy and sorrow never cease, Eternal change—one changeless thing, commotion ! Even in death no hint of calm and peace !—