I FOR many a year the master wrought, And wisdom deepened slow with years; Guest-chambers of his inmost thought Were filled with shapes too stern for tears;— Yet Joy was there, and murmuring Love, And Youth that hears with hastened breath, But, throned in peace all these above, The unrevealing eyes of Death. II Faces there were which won him yet, Fair daughters of an iron age: In iron truth pourtrayed he set Warrior and statesman, bard and sage. From hidden deeps their past he drew, The ancestral bent of stock and stem; More of their hearts than yet they knew Thro' their own gaze looked out on them. III Yet oftenest in the past he walked, With god or hero long gone by, Oft, like his pictured Genius, talked With rainbow forms that span the sky: Thereto his soul hath listed long, When silent voices spake in air,— Hath mirrored many an old-world song Remote and mystic, sad and fair. IV For here the Thracian, vainly wise, Close on the light his love has led;— Oh hearken! her melodious cries Fade in the mutter of the dead:— "Farewell! from thy embrace I pass, Drawn to the formless dark alone: I stretch my hands,—too weak, alas! And I no more, no more thine own." V And here is she whom Art aflame Smote from the rock a breathing maid; Calm at the fiery call she came, Looked on her lover unafraid; Nor quite was sure if life were best, And love, till love with life had flown, Or still with things unborn to rest, Ideal beauty, changeless stone. VI Ah! which the sweeter? she who stands, A soul to woe that moment born,— Regretfully her aimless hands Drooping by Psyche's side forlorn?— Woke with a shock the god unknown, And sighing flushed, and flying sighed: Grey in the dawning stands alone His desolate and childly bride. VII Or she whose soft limbs swiftly sped The touch of very gods must shun, And, drowned in many a boscage, fled The imperious kisses of the sun? Mix, mix with Daphne, branch and frond, O laurel-wildness, laurel-shade! Let Nature's life,—no love beyond,— Make all the marriage of the maid! VIII Or she who, deep in Latmian trees, Stoops from the height her silver sheen? Dreams in a dream her shepherd sees The crescent car, the bending queen. One kiss she gives; the Fates refuse A closer bond or longer stay: The boy sleeps still; her orb renews Its echoless unmated way. IX All these some hope unanswered know, Some laws that prison, fates that bar; Baffled their spirit-fountains flow Towards things diviner and afar. Such dole at heart their painter felt, Within, without, such sights to see; Who in our monstrous London dwelt, And half remembered Arcady. X Ah, sure, those springs of joy and pain By some remote recall are stirred; His ancient Guardians smile again, And touch a colour, speak a word. Not all asleep thy gods of Greece Lie tumbled on the Coan shore:— O painter! thou that knew'st their peace Must half remember evermore! XI So gazed on Phidias' Warrior-maid, Methinks, Ægina's kingly boy:— She stood, her Gorgon shield displayed, Too great for love, too grave for joy. All day her image held him there; This world, this life, with day grew dim; Some glimmering of the Primal Fair Pre-natal memories woke in him. XII Then as he walked, like one who dreamed, Thro' silent highways silver-hoar, More wonderful that city seemed, And he diviner than before:— A voice was calling, All is well; Clear in the vault Selene shone, And over Plato's homestead fell The shadow of the Parthenon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GREAT HUNT by CARL SANDBURG THE DESCRIPTION OF COOKHAM by AEMILIA (BASSANO) LANYER UPON THE DEATH OF SIR ALBERT MORTON'S WIFE by MARCUS VALERIUS MARTIALIS TO A BUTTERFLY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH BACCHANALIA; OR, THE NEW AGE by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNET TO A FRIEND, ON HIS SECOND MARRIAGE by BERNARD BARTON |