Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day Lying, robed in snowy white She floated down to Camelot; 140 Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Under tower and balcony, A gleaming shape she floated by, 150 'O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Hear me, O earth, hear me, O hills, O caves That house the cold crown'd srake! O mountain brooks, I am the daughter of a River-God, 40 'Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes, 180 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, 190 'Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. Fairest - why fairest wife? am I not fair? My love hath told me so a thousand times. Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday, When I past by, a wild and wanton pard, Eyed like the evening star, with playful tail Crouch'd fawning in the weed. Most loving is she? Ah me, my mountain shepherd, that my arms Were wound about thee, and my hot lips prest 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 '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 Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly see comes Across me: never child be born of me, 250 Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes! '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, for she says A fire dances before her, and a sound Rings ever in her ears of armed 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 [First printed 1833; altered in 1842.] 260 |