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Poems-Volume 2-Part27_George Meredith(1818-1909)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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At the leap on yielding ether, in despite of his reprimand,



Swayed tumultuous the fire-steeds, plunging recklesshither and yon;

Unto men a great amazement, all agaze at the Troubled East:-



Pitifully for mastery striving in ascension, the charioteer,

Reminiscent, drifts of counsel caught confused in his arid wits;



The reins stiff ahind his shoulder madly pulled for the mastery,

Till a thunder off the tense chords thro' his ears dinned horrible.



Panic seized him: fled his vision of inviolability;

Fled the dream that he of mortals rode mischances predominant;



And he cried, 'Had I petitioned for a cup of chill aconite,

My descent to awful Hades had been soft, for now must I go



With the curse by father Zeus cast on ambition immoderate.

Oh, my sisters! Thou, my Goddess, in whose love I was enviable,



From whose arms I rushed befrenzied, what a wreck will this body be,

That admired of thee stood rose-warm in the courts where thy



mysteries

Celebration had from me, me the most splendidly privileged!



Never more shall I thy temple fill with incenses bewildering;

Not again hear thy half-murmurs--I am lost!--never, never more.



I am wrecked on seas of air, hurled to my death in a vessel of

flame!



Hither, sisters! Father, save me! Hither, succour me, Cypria!'

Now a wail of men to Zeus rang: from Olympus the Thunderer



Saw the rage of the havoc wide-mouthed, the bright car

superimpending



Over Asia, Africa, low down; ruin flaming over the vales;

Light disastrous rising savage out of smoke inveterately;



Beast-black, conflagration like a menacing shadow move

With voracious roaring southward, where aslant, insufferable,



The bright steeds careered their parched way down an arc of the

firmament.



For the day grew like to thick night, and the orb was its beacon-

fire,



And from hill to hill of darkness burst the day's apparition forth.

Lo, a wrestler, not a God, stood in the chariot ever lowering:



Lo, the shape of one who raced there to outstrip the legitimate

hours:



Lo, the ravish'd beams of Phoebus dragged in shame at the chariot-

wheels:



Light of days of happy pipings by the mead-singing rivulets!

Lo, lo, increasing lustre, torrid breath to the nostrils; lo,



Torrid brilliancies thro' the vapours lighten swifter, penetrate

them,



Fasten merciless, ruminant, hueless, on earth's frame crackling

busily.



He aloft, the frenzied driver, in the glow of the universe,

Like the paling of the dawn-star withers visibly, he aloft:



Bitter fury in his aspect, bitter death in the heart of him.

Crouch the herds, contract the reptiles, crouch the lions under



their paws.

White as metal in the furnace are the faces of human-kind:



Inarticulate creatures of earth dumb all await the ultimate shock.

To the bolt he launched, 'Strike dead, thou,' uttered Zeus, very



terrible;

'Perish folly, else 'tis man's fate'; and the bolt flew unerringly.



Then the kindler stooped; from the torch-car down the measureless

altitudes



Leaned his rayless head, relinquished rein and footing, raised not a

cry.



Like the flower on the river's surface when expanding it vanishes,

Gave his limbs to right and left, quenched: and so fell he



precipitate,

Seen of men as a glad rain-fall, sending coolness yet ere it comes:



So he showered above them, shadowed o'er the blue archipelagoes,

O'er the silken-shining pastures of the continents and the isles;



So descending brought revival to the greenery of our earth.

Lither, noisy in the breezes now his sisters shivering weep,



By the river flowing smooth out to the vexed sea of Adria,

Where he fell, and where they suffered sudden change to the






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