Six Centuries of English Poetry Part 10

Liquid Peneus{2} was flowing, And all dark Tempe lay In Pelion's shadow, outgrowing The light of the dying day, Speeded by my sweet pipings.

The Sileni{3} and Sylvans and Fauns, And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did then attend and follow, Were silent with love,--as you now, Apollo,{4} With envy of my sweet pipings.

I sang of the dancing stars, I sang of the daedal{5} earth, And of heaven, and the Giant wars,{6} And love, and death, and birth, And then I changed my pipings,-- Singing how down the vale of Maenalus I pursued a maiden,{7} and clasped a reed: G.o.ds and men, we are all deluded thus; It breaks in our bosom, and then we bleed.

All wept--as I think both ye now would, If envy or age had not frozen your blood-- At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.

NOTES.

Pan, as described in the Homeric hymns, is "lord of all the hills and dales": sometimes he ranges along the tops of the mountains; sometimes pursues the game in the valleys, roams through the woods, or floats along the streams; or drives his sheep into a cave, and there plays on his reeds music not to be excelled by that of the sweetest singing birds; and

"With him the clear-singing mountain-nymphs Move quick their feet, by the dark-watered spring In the soft mead, where crocus, hyacinths, Fragrant and blooming, mingle with the gra.s.s Confused, and sing, while echo peals around The mountain's top."

Keats, in "Endymion," thus apostrophizes Pan:

"O Hearkener to the loud clapping shears, While ever and anon to his shorn peers A ram goes bleating: Winder of the horn, When snouted wild-boars routing tender corn Anger our huntsmen: Breather round our farms, To keep off mildews, and all weather harms: Strange ministrant of undescribed sounds, That come a-swooning over hollow grounds, And wither drearily on barren moors: Dread opener of the mysterious doors Leading to universal knowledge--see, Great son of Dryope, The many that are come to pay their vows With leaves about their brows!"

1. =Tmolus.= It was Tmolus who acted as umpire in the musical contest between Pan and Apollo. This contest is directly referred to throughout this poem.

2. =Peneus.= The chief river of Thessaly. It flows through the Vale of Tempe, and between the mountains Ossa and Pelion, emptying finally into the aegean Sea. (See map of ancient Greece.)

3. =Sileni.= A name applied to the older satyrs. They were fond of wine and of every kind of sensual pleasure, and hence represented the luxuriant powers of nature, and were connected with the wors.h.i.+p of Bacchus.

=Sylvans.= Deities of the fields and forests.

=Fauns.= G.o.ds of the shepherds, flocks, and fields. A faun was usually represented as half man and half goat.

4. =Apollo.= One of the chief divinities of the Greeks; the G.o.d of music and song, of prophecy, of the flocks and herds, of the founding of towns, and of the sun. He was the son of Zeus and Leto, and was born on the island of Delos. His favorite oracle was at Delphi.

5. =daedal.= Labyrinthine, wonderful. From Daedalus, a famous Athenian architect, who designed the labyrinth at Crete in which the Minotaur was kept.

6. =Giant wars.= The wars of the t.i.tans,--the contest in which Zeus overcame and deposed his father, Chronos, and made himself supreme ruler of the universe. The t.i.tans, who were opposed to him, were overcome, and hurled into the lowest depths of Tartarus.

=Maenalus.= A mountain in Arcadia, celebrated as the favorite haunt of Pan.

7. =maiden.= Syrinx, a nymph of Arcadia, devoted to the service of Artemis. "As she was returning one day from the chase, Pan saw and loved her; but when he would address her, she fled. The G.o.d pursued. She reached the river Ladon, and, unable to cross it, implored the aid of her sister nymphs; and when Pan thought to grasp the object of his pursuit, he found his arms filled with reeds. At that moment the wind began to agitate the reeds and produced a low musical sound. The G.o.d took the hint, cut seven of the twigs, and formed from them his _syrinx_, or pastoral pipe." See Ovid's _Metamorphoses_.

FROM "EPIPSYCHIDION."

Emily, A s.h.i.+p is floating in the harbor now; A wind is hovering o'er the mountain's brow; There is a path on the sea's azure floor,-- No keel has ever ploughed that path before; The halcyons{1} brood around the foamless isles; The treacherous ocean has forsworn its wiles; The merry mariners are bold and free: Say, my heart's sister, wilt thou sail with me?

Our bark is as an albatross whose nest Is a far Eden of the purple east; And we between her wings will sit, while Night And Day and Storm and Calm pursue their flight, Our ministers, along the boundless sea, Treading each other's heels, unheededly.

It is an isle under Ionian{2} skies, Beautiful as a wreck of paradise; And, for{3} the harbors are not safe and good, This land would have remained a solitude But for some pastoral people native there, Who from the elysian, clear, and golden air Draw the last spirit of the age of gold,{4}-- Simple and spirited, innocent and bold.

The blue aegean girds this chosen home, With ever-changing sound and light and foam Kissing the sifted sands and caverns h.o.a.r; And all the winds wandering along the sh.o.r.e Undulate with the undulating tide.

There are thick woods where sylvan forms abide; And many a fountain, rivulet, and pond, As clear as elemental diamond, Or serene morning air. And far beyond, The mossy tracks made by the goats and deer (Which the rough shepherd treads but once a year) Pierce into glades, caverns, and bowers, and halls Built round with ivy, which the waterfalls Illumining, with sound that never fails, Accompany the noonday nightingales.

And all the place is peopled with sweet airs.{5} The light clear element which the isle wears Is heavy with the scent of lemon-flowers, Which floats like mist laden with unseen showers, And falls upon the eyelids like faint sleep; And from the moss violets and jonquils peep, And dart their arrowy odor through the brain, Till you might faint with that delicious pain.

And every motion, odor, beam, and tone, With that deep music is in unison: Which is a soul within the soul,--they seem Like echoes of an antenatal dream.{6} It is an isle 'twixt heaven, air, earth, and sea, Cradled, and hung in clear tranquillity; Bright as that wandering Eden, Lucifer,{7} Washed by the soft blue oceans of young air.{8} It is a favored place. Famine or blight, Pestilence, war, and earthquake, never light Upon its mountain-peaks; blind vultures, they Sail onward far upon their fatal way.

The winged storms, chaunting their thunder-psalm To other lands, leave azure chasms of calm Over this isle, or weep themselves in dew, From which its fields and woods ever renew Their green and golden immortality.

And from the sea there rise, and from the sky There fall, clear exhalations, soft and bright, Veil after veil, each hiding some delight: Which sun or moon or zephyr draw aside, Till the isle's beauty, like a naked bride Glowing at once with love and loveliness, Blushes and trembles at its own excess.

Yet, like a buried lamp, a soul no less Burns in the heart of this delicious isle, An atom of the Eternal, whose own smile Unfolds itself, and may be felt not seen O'er the gray rocks, blue waves, and forests green, Filling their bare and void interstices.

This isle and house are mine, and I have vowed Thee to be lady of the solitude.

And I have fitted up some chambers there Looking towards the golden eastern air, And level with the living winds which flow Like waves above the living waves below.

I have sent books and music there, and all Those instruments with which high spirits call The future from its cradle, and the past Out of its grave, and make the present last In thoughts and joys which sleep but cannot die, Folded within their own eternity.

Our simple life wants little, and true taste Hires not the pale drudge Luxury to waste The scene it would adorn; and therefore still Nature with all her children haunts the hill.

The ringdove in the embowering ivy yet Keeps up her love-lament; and the owls flit Round the evening tower; and the young stars glance Between the quick bats in their twilight dance; The spotted deer bask in the fresh moonlight Before our gate; and the slow silent night Is measured by the pants of their calm sleep.

Be this our home in life; and, when years heap Their withered hours like leaves on our decay, Let us become the overhanging day, The living soul, of this elysian isle-- Conscious, inseparable, one. Meanwhile We two will rise and sit and walk together Under the roof of blue Ionian weather; And wander in the meadows; or ascend The mossy mountains, where the blue heavens bend With lightest winds to touch their paramour;{9} Or linger where the pebble-paven sh.o.r.e Under the quick faint kisses of the sea Trembles and sparkles as with ecstasy;-- Possessing and possessed by all that is Within that calm circ.u.mference of bliss, And by each other, till to love and live Be one. . . .

We shall become the same, we shall be one Spirit within two frames, oh wherefore two?

One pa.s.sion in twin hearts, which grows and grew Till, like two meteors of expanding flame, Those spheres instinct with it become the same, Touch, mingle, are transfigured; ever still Burning, yet ever inconsumable; In one another's substance finding food, Light flames too pure and light and unimbued To nourish their bright lives with baser prey, Which point to heaven and cannot pa.s.s away: One hope within two wills, one will beneath Two overshadowing minds, one life, one death, One heaven, one h.e.l.l, one immortality, And one annihilation!

Woe is me!

The winged words on which my soul would pierce Into the height of Love's rare universe Are chains of lead around its flight of fire-- I pant, I sink, I tremble, I expire!

NOTES.

"A clever but disreputable professor at Pisa one day related to Sh.e.l.ley the sad story of a beautiful and n.o.ble lady, the Contessina Emilia Viviani, who had been confined by her father in a dismal convent of the suburbs, to await her marriage with a distasteful husband." Sh.e.l.ley, fired as ever by a tale of tyranny, was eager to visit the fair captive.

The professor accompanied him and Medwin to the convent parlor, where they found her more lovely than even the most glowing descriptions had led them to expect. Nor was she only beautiful. Sh.e.l.ley soon discovered that she had "cultivated her mind beyond what I have ever met with in Italian women"; and a rhapsody composed by her upon the subject of Uranian Love--"Il Vero Amore"--justifies the belief that she possessed an intellect of more than ordinary elevation. He took Mrs. Sh.e.l.ley to see her; and both did all they could to make her convent prison less irksome by frequent visits, by letters, by presents of flowers and books. It was not long before Sh.e.l.ley's sympathy for this unfortunate lady took the form of love, which, however spiritual and Platonic, was not the less pa.s.sionate. The result was the composition of "Epipsychidion," the most unintelligible of all his poems to those who have not a.s.similated the spirit of Plato's _Symposium_ and Dante's _Vita Nuova_.--_J. A. Symonds._

W. M. Rossetti characterizes this poem as "a pure outpouring of poetry; a br.i.m.m.i.n.g and bubbling fountain of freshness and music, magical with its own spray rainbows."

A year after its composition, Sh.e.l.ley wrote: "The 'Epipsychidion' I cannot look at. If you are curious, however, to hear what I am and have been, it will tell you something thereof. It is an idealized history of my life and feelings."

=Epipsychidion.= From Gr. _epi_, upon, and _psyche_, the soul. This poem is addressed "to the n.o.ble and unfortunate Lady Emilia Viviani, now imprisoned in the Convent of St. Anne, Pisa," and was written in 1821.

1. =halcyons.= Kingfishers. Halcyone was the daughter of aeolus and wife of Ceyx. When her husband died she was changed into a bird,--the kingfisher,--and, floating over the sea, she still calls for the lost Ceyx in tones full of plaining and tears. And "whensoever she makes her nest, a law of nature brings round what is called Halcyon's weather--days distinguishable among all others for their serenity."

2. =Ionian.= Greek. See the expression "Under the roof of blue Ionian weather," below. Explain its meaning.

3. =for.= Since, because.

=elysian.= Heavenly. Pertaining to Elysium, the islands of the blest, the Elysian fields.

4. =age of gold.= Compare Milton, "Hymn on the Nativity" (see note 36, page 192. See, also, poem by John Lydgate, page 275).

5. =peopled with sweet airs.= Filled with sweet music.

6. =antenatal dream.= See Wordsworth's "Ode on the Intimations of Immortality" (also, note 13, page 47).

"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting."

7. =Lucifer.= Venus when seen in the morning, rising before the sun is called Lucifer, the light-bearer. From Lat. _lux_, light, and _fero_, to bear (see note 18, page 189). The same star when seen in the evening, following the sun, is called Hesperus.

8. =blue oceans of young air.= Explain.