Imágenes de página
PDF
ePub

Thro' the noises of the night

She floated down to Camelot; And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.

For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,

A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.

Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.

Who is this? and what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer,
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot :
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."

CENONE*

Hither came at noon

140 Mournful Enone, wandering forlorn

Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills.
Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck
Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest.
She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine,
Sang to the stillness, till the mountain-shade 20
Sloped downward to her seat from the upper
cliff.

"O mother Ida, many fountain'd Ida,
Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
150 For now the noonday quiet holds the hill;
The grasshopper is silent in the grass;
The lizard, with his shadow on the stone,
Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead.
The purple flower droops, the golden bee
Is lily-cradled: I alone awake.

My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love, 30
My heart is breaking and my eyes are dim,
And I am all aweary of my life.

"O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
160 Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
Hear me, O earth, hear me, O hills, O caves
That house the cold crown'd snake! O moun-

170

There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier
Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.
The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,
Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to
pine,

And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand
The lawns and meadow-ledges midway down
Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars
The long brook falling thro' the cloven ravine
In cataract after cataract to the sea.
Behind the valley topmost Gargarus

10

[blocks in formation]

eyes

Stands up and takes the morning; but in front I sat alone; white-breasted like a star

The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal

Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel,

The crown of Troas.

Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard skin
Droop'd from his shoulder, but his sunny hair
Cluster'd about his temples like a God's;

* Enone, a nymph of Mt. Ida in the Troad, early And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow

the beloved of the shepherd Paris, mourns his desertion of her, and relates the story of the famous "Judgment of Paris" which led to the Trojan war.

brightens

60

According to a legend in Ovid. the walls of Troy rose to the music of Apollo's lyre.

When the wind blows the foam. and all my | And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and lean'd
heart
Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew.
Went forth to embrace him coming ere he came. Then first I heard the voice of her to whom

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palm Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold, That smelt ambrosially, and while I look 'd And listen 'd, the full-flowing river of speech Came down upon my heart:

'My own Enone,

Beautiful-brow'd (Enone, my own soul,

Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind

graven

[blocks in formation]

And river-sunder'd champaign clothed with corn,

in- Or labour'd mine undrainable of ore.

70

Honour,'
,' she said, 'and homage, tax and toll,

"For the most fair," would seem to award it From many an inland town and haven large,

thine,

As lovelier than whatever Oread1 haunt
The knolls of Ida, loveliest in all grace

Of movement, and the charm of married brows.'

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. He prest the blossom of his lips to mine, And added, "This was cast upon the board, When all the full-faced presence of the Gods Ranged in the halls of Peleus; 2 whereupon Rose feud, with question unto whom 'twere due;

But light-foot Iris3 brought it yester-eve,
Delivering, that to me, by common voice
Elected umpire, Herè comes to-day,
Pallas and Aphrodite,' claiming each

This meed of fairest. Thou, within the cave
Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine,
Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard
Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.'

80

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. It was the deep midnoon; one silvery cloud 90 She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit Had lost his way between the piny sides Out at arm's-length, so much the thought of

[blocks in formation]

power Flatter'd his spirit; but Pallas where she stood Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs O'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold, The while, above, her full and earnest eye Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek 140 Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply: 'Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, These three alone lead life to sovereign power. Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncall'd for) but to live by law, Acting the law we live by without fear; And, because right is right, to follow right Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'

* Paris was the son of Priam of Troy: he had been left exposed on the mountain-side be cause of the propheey that he would bring ruin to Troy.

[blocks in formation]

If gazing on divinity disrobed
Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair,
Unbias'd by self-profit, O, rest thee sure
That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,
So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood,
Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's,
To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks, 160
Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow
Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown will,
Circled thro' all experiences, pure law,
Commeasure perfect freedom. '†

"Here she ceas'd,
And Paris ponder'd and I cried, 'O Paris,
Give it to Pallas!' but he heard me not,
Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds, Among the fragments tumbled from the glens, Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her The Abominable, that uninvited came Into the fair Peleïan banquet-hall, And cast the golden fruit upon the board, 180 And bred this change; that I might speak my mind,

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes, The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh Half-whisper'd in his ear, I promise thee The fairest and most loving wife in Greece.' She spoke and laugh'd; I shut my sight for fear;

But when I look'd, Paris had raised his arm,
And I beheld great Herè's angry eyes,
As she withdrew into the golden cloud,
And I was left alone within the bower;
And from that time to this I am alone,
And I shall be alone until I die.

"Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. Fairest-why fairest wife? am I not fair?

190

[blocks in formation]

And tell her to her face how much I hate Her presence, hated both of Gods and men.

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times, In this green valley, under this green hill, Even on this hand, and sitting on this stone? Seal'd it with kisses? water'd it with tears? 230 O happy tears, and how unlike to these! O happy heaven, how canst thou see my face? O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight? O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud, There are enough unhappy on this earth, Pass by the happy souls, that love to live; I pray thee, pass before my light of life, And shadow all my soul, that I may die. Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, Weigh heavy on my eyelids; let me die. 240

6 Eris, or "Strife" whence the apple was called the "Apple of Discord."

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts

Do shape themselves within me, more and more,
Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear

They saw the gleaming river seaward flow
From the inner land; far off, three mountain-
tops,

Three silent pinnacles of aged snow,

Dead sounds at night come from the inmost Stood sunset-flush'd; and, dew'd with showery

[blocks in formation]

"O, mother, hear me yet before I die.
Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone,
Lest their shrill happy laughter come to me
Walking the cold and starless road of death
Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love
With the Greek woman. I will rise and go
Down into Troy, and ere the stars come forth
Talk with the wild Cassandra,8 for she says
A fire dances before her, and a sound
Rings ever in her ears of arméd men.
What this may be I know not, but I know
That wheresoe'er I am by night and day,
All earth and air seem only burning fire.''

THE LOTOS-EATERS*

260

"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land,

[blocks in formation]

Branches they bore of that enchanted stem,
Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave
To each, but whoso did receive of them
And taste, to him the gushing of the wave
Far far away did seem to mourn and rave
On alien shores; and if his fellow spake,
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave;
And deep-asleep he seem'd, yet all awake,
And music in his ears his beating heart did
make.

"This mounting wave will roll us shoreward They sat them down upon the yellow sand, soon.''

[blocks in formation]

A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke,

Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke,

Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.

7 The Death of Enone, a late poem of Tennyson's.
describes her death on the funeral pyre of
Paris.

8 Sister of Paris, and a prophetess.
*This poem is founded on the story told by Ulys-
ses (Odyssey IX, 83-97) of himself and his
men arriving at the land of the lotos and par-
taking of the "flowery food" which caused for-

getfulness of home. These five Spenserian

stanzas, which are followed in the original by a long "Choric Song." contain some distinct echoes of Thomson's Castle of Indolence, which see (p. 344).

36

Between the sun and moon upon the shore;
And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland,
Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore
Most weary seem'd the sea, weary the oar,
Weary the wandering fields of barren foam.
Then some one said, "We will return no

[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

As these white robes are soil'd and dark,

To yonder shining ground;

As this pale taper's earthly spark,

To yonder argent round;

So shows my soul before the Lamb,

My spirit before Thee;

So in mine earthly house I am,

To that I hope to be.

Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far,
Thro' all yon starlight keen,
Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star,
In raiment white and clean.

He lifts me to the golden doors;
The flashes come and go;
All heaven bursts her starry floors,
And strows her lights below,
And deepens on and up! the gates
Roll back, and far within

For me the Heavenly Bridegroom waits,
To make me pure of sin.
The Sabbaths of Eternity,

One Sabbath deep and wide-
A light upon the shining sea-
The Bridegroom with his bride!

SIR GALAHAD*

My good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
My strength is as the strength of ten,
Because my heart is pure.

The shattering trumpet shrilleth high,
The hard brands shiver on the steel,
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly,
The horse and rider reel;
They reel, they roll in clanging lists,

And when the tide of combat stands,
Perfume and flowers fall in showers,
That lightly rain from ladies' hands.

How sweet are looks that ladies bend
On whom their favours fall!
For them I battle till the end,

To save from shame and thrall;

But all my heart is drawn above,

[blocks in formation]

A maiden knight-to me is given
Such hope, I know not fear;

I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven
That often meet me here.

I muse on joy that will not cease,
Pure spaces clothed in living beams,
Pure lilies of eternal peace,
Whose odours haunt my dreams;

My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine; And, stricken by an angel's hand,

I never felt the kiss of love,

Nor maiden's hand in mine.

More bounteous aspects on me beam,
Me mightier transports move and thrill;
So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer
A virgin heart in work and will.

When down the stormy crescent goes, A light before me swims,

1 vault, cell

* See Malory's account on pages 100, 105-108.

20

60

This mortal armour that I wear, This weight and size, this heart and eyes, Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air.

70

The clouds are broken in the sky,
And thro' the mountain-walls

A rolling organ-harmony

Swells up and shakes and falls. Then move the trees, the copses nod, Wings flutter, voices hover clear:

2 Cp. Hamlet, I, 1, 158.

« AnteriorContinuar »