The dawning of Desire,
'Who lives,' I said, 'will see that face
Set all the world on fire!'
They mocked; but Time has brought to pass
The
saying over-true;
Prophet and
martyr now, alas,
I burn for Truth, - and you!
LAIS.
(Pompeius.)
Lais that bloomed for all the world's delight,
Crowned with all love lilies, the fair and dear,
Sleeps the predestined sleep, nor knows the flight
Of Helios, the gold-reined charioteer:
Revel, and kiss, and love, and hate, one Night
Darkens, that never lamp of Love may cheer!
CLEARISTA.
(Meleager.)
For Death, not for Love, hast thou
Loosened thy zone!
Flutes filled thy bower but now,
Morning brings moan!
Maids round thy
bridal bed
Hushed are in gloom,
Torches to Love that led
Light to the tomb!
THE FISHERMAN'S TOMB.
(Leonidas of Tarentum.)
Theris the Old, the waves that harvested
More keen than birds that labour in the sea,
With spear and net, by shore and rocky bed,
Not with the well-manned
galley laboured he;
Him not the star of storms, nor sudden sweep
Of wind with all his years hath
smitten and bent,
But in his hut of reeds he fell asleep,
As fades a lamp when all the oil is spent:
This tomb nor wife nor children raised, but we
His fellow-toilers, fishers of the sea.
OF HIS DEATH.
(Meleager.)
Ah Love, my Master, hear me swear
By all the locks of Timo's hair,
By Demo, and that
fragrant spell
Wherewith her body doth enchant
Such dreams as
drowsy lovers haunt,
By Ilias' mirth delectable.
And by the lamp that sheds his light
On love and lovers all the night,
By those, ah Love, I swear that thou
Hast left me but one
breath, and now
Upon my lips it fluttereth,
Yet THIS I'll yield, my latest
breath,
Even this, oh Love, for thee to Death!
RHODOPE.
(Rufinus.)
Thou hast Hera's eyes, thou hast Pallas' hands,
And the feet of the Queen of the yellow sands,
Thou hast beautiful Aphrodite's breast,
Thou art made of each goddess's loveliest!
Happy is he who sees thy face,
Happy who hears thy words of grace,
And he that shall kiss thee is half divine,
But a god who shall win that heart of thine!
TO A GIRL.
(Asclepiades.)
Believe me, love, it is not good
To hoard a
mortal maidenhood;
In Hades thou wilt never find,
Maiden, a lover to thy mind;
Love's for the living! presently
Ashes and dust in death are we!
TO THE SHIPS.
(Meleager.)
O gentle ships that skim the seas,
And
cleave the
strait where Helle fell,
Catch in your sails the Northern breeze,
And speed to Cos, where she doth dwell,
My Love, and see you greet her well!
And if she looks across the blue,
Speak, gentle ships, and tell her true,
'He comes, for Love hath brought him back,
No sailor, on the landward tack.'
If thus, oh gentle ships, ye do,
Then may ye win the fairest gales,
And swifter speed across the blue,
While Zeus
breathes friendly on your sails.
A LATE CONVERT.
(Paulus Silentiarius.)
I that in youth had never been
The servant of the Paphian Queen,
I that in youth had never felt
The shafts of Eros
pierce and melt,
Cypris! in later age, half grey,
I bow the neck to THEE to-day.
Pallas, that was my lady, thou
Dost more
triumphantvanquish now,
Than when thou gained'st, over seas,
The apple of the Hesperides.
THE LIMIT OF LIFE.
Thirty-six is the term that the prophets assign,
And the students of stars to the years that are mine;
Nay, let thirty
suffice, for the man who hath passed
Thirty years is a Nestor, and HE died at last!
TO DANIEL ELZEVIR.
(From the Latin of Menage.)
What do I see! Oh gods divine
And goddesses, - this Book of mine, -
This child of many hopes and fears, -
Is published by the Elzevirs!
Oh perfect Publishers complete!
Oh
daintyvolume, new and neat!
The Paper doth outshine the snow,
The Print is blacker than the crow,
The Title-Page, with
crimson bright,
The vellum cover smooth and white,
All sorts of readers do invite,
Ay, and will keep them
reading still,
Against their will, or with their will!
Thus what of grace the Rhymes may lack
The Publisher has given them back,
As Milliners adorn the fair
Whose charms are something skimp and spare.
Oh DULCE DECUS, Elzevirs!
The pride of dead and dawning years,
How can a poet best repay
The debt he owes your House to-day?
May this round world, while aught endures,
Applaud, and buy, these books of yours!
May purchasers
incessant pop,
My Elzevirs, within your shop,
And
learned bards
salute, with cheers,
The
volumes of the Elzevirs,
Till your
renown fills earth and sky,
Till men forget the Stephani,
And all that Aldus
wrought, and all
Turnebus sold in shop or stall,
While still may Fate's (and Binders') shears
Respect, and spare, the Elzevirs!
THE LAST CHANCE.
Within the streams, Pausanias saith,
That down Cocytus
valley flow,
Girdling the grey
domain of Death,
The spectral fishes come and go;
The ghosts of trout flit to and fro.
Persephone,
fulfil my wish,
And grant that in the shades below
My ghost may land the ghosts of fish.
[Greek text which cannot be reproduced]
L. C.
Footnotes:
(1) January 26, 1885.
(2) M. Antoninus iv 23.
(3) From the Romaic.
(4) Aphrodite - Avril.
End