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1905 · CLOSE READING

Collected Works (Vol. I)

Collected Works (Vol. I) (1905), PDF p. 27

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20 THE TALE OF ARCHAITS And all was changed to a putrescent heap Of oily liquid on the floor asleep, Like poisonous potency of mandragore Ready to strike. Andthen a change came o’er Its turbid mass, that shook, and grew divine, A million-twinkling ocean of bright brine That seemed to spread beyond the horizon, Whence, stirred by strange emotions of the sun, Waves rolled upon it, and a wind arose And lashed it with insatiable blows Into a surging labyrinth of foam, Boiling up into heaven’s unchanging dome Of brightest sether; then, its womb uncloses To bring to birth a garden of white roses, Whence, on a mystic shell of pearl, is borne A goddess, bosomed like the sea at morn, Glittering in all the goodlihead and grace Of maiden magic; her delicious face Grew more and more upon the hero’s sight, Till all the hut was filled with rosy light, And Charicles’ grey eyes were Juminous With love-reflections multitudinous As lilies in the spring. Again was seen As in a mirror, like the ocean green, The admirable birth of Love’s eternal Queen. So Charicles a moment was amazed. A moment; then, contemptuous, he gazed With curling lip on her, and sourly scorns Her petty miracle: ‘‘ The deed adorns Too well a queen whose promises are foam.” And she, indignant, would have hied her “home And left him to despair, but pitying His soul struck through with darts: “A bitter thing” (She cried) “thou sayest, yet perchance my power Is not as great as thine, for while I cower Tnder the lash of Zeus, stand thou upright, And laugh him to his beard for all his spite.” ‘©T even now beneath hisdoom?” ‘‘ Even thou! For learn this law, writ large upon the brow Of white Olympus, writ by him who made Thee, yea and Zeus, of whom is Zeus afraid, Graven by Him with an eternal pen, The first law in the destiny of men: We whom Zeus wrongfully once injures map not be Wurt by his power again in the most small Degree. Thus, thy Archais”—‘‘ Mine! ah _ never- more !” ‘Peace, doubter !—is made free from all the sore Oppressions of the past, nor may again Zeus lay on her the shadow of a pain.” “But I, but I” —‘‘ Vea, verily, fear not But stratagem may lift thy bitter lot From thy worn shoulders. Thus for half the day Thou art as free as air, as woodland fay Treading the circle of unearthly green, By maiden eyes at summer midnight seen. These hours of freedom thou may’st use to free Love from his toils, and joy and goodly gree ! Shall be thy guerdon. Listen! I have power To change thy semblance in thy happier hour3 Thou shalt assume the countenance of Love’s Divinest maiden in the darkling groves Of Ida. There shalt thou meet happily With Zeus himsclf. I leave the scheme to thee.” The flash of her desire within his brain Came as a meteor through the wildered train Of solemn spheres of night’s majestic court. He kissed the extended hand, and lastly sought A blessing from the kindly Queen of Love. Then, smiling, she was bountiful thereof, And bade him haste away, when at the gate— Twin witch-oaks that presided o’er the state Of that detested realm—he felt a change, Half pleasant, only beyond wonder strange, A change as from a joy to a delight, As from broad sunshine to the iall of night, As from strong action to endurance strong, As from desire to the power to long, 1 Gladness.,
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