The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 60
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In link'd arcades, and interwoven bowers 8 Swept the long forest from that single stem!
And, flas.h.i.+ng through the foliage, fruits or flowers In jewell'd cl.u.s.ters, glow'd with every gem Golgonda hideth from the greed of kings; Or Lybian gryphons guard with drowsy wings.
Here blush'd the ruby, warm as Charity, 9 There the mild topaz, wrath-a.s.suaging, shone Radiant as Mercy; like an angel's eye, Or a stray splendour from the Father's throne The sapphire chaste a heavenly l.u.s.tre gave To that blue heaven reflected on the wave.
Never from India's cave, or Oman's sea 10 Swart Afrite stole for scornful Peri's brow, Such gems as, wasted on that Wonder-tree, Paled Sheban treasures in each careless bough; And every bough the gliding wavelet heaves, Quivers to music with the quivering leaves.
Then first the Sovereign Lady of the deep 11 Spoke;--and the waves and whispering leaves wore still, "Ever I rise before the eyes that weep When, born from sorrow, Wisdom wakes the will; But few behold the shadow through the dark, And few will dare the venture of the bark.
"And now amid the Cuthites' temple halls 12 O'er which the waters undestroying flow, Heark'ning the mysteries hymn'd from silver falls Or from the springs that, gus.h.i.+ng up below, Gleam to the surface, whence to Heaven updrawn, They form the clouds that harbinger the Dawn,--
"Say what the treasures which my deeps enfold 13 That thou would'st bear to the terrestrial day?"
Then Arthur answer'd--and his quest he told, The prophet mission which his steps obey-- "Here springs the forest from the single stem: I seek the falchion welded from the gem!"
"Pause," said the Phantom, "and survey the tree! 14 More worth one fruit that weighs a branchlet down, Than all which mortals in the sword can see.
Thou ask'st the falchion to defend a crown-- But seize the fruit, and to thy grasp decreed More realms than Ormuzd lavish'd on the Mede;
"Than great Darius left his doomed son, 15 From Scythian wastes to Abyssinian caves; From Nimrod's tomb in silenced Babylon To Argive islands fretting Asian waves; Than changed to sceptres the rude Lictor-rods, And placed the worm call'd Caesar with the G.o.ds!
"Pause--take thy choice--each gem a host can buy, 16 Seize--and yoke kings to War's triumphant car!
The Child of Earth, no Genii here defy, The fruits unguarded, and the fiends afar-- But dark the perils that surround the Sword, And slight its worth--ambitious if its Lord;
"True to the warrior on his native soil, 17 Its blade would break in the Invader's clasp; A weapon meeter for the sons of Toil, When plough-shares turn to falchions in their grasp;-- Leave the rude boor to battle for his hearth-- Expand thy scope;--Ambition asks the Earth!"
"Spirit or Sorceress," said the frowning King, 18 "Panic like the Sun illumes an Universe; But life and joy both Fame and Sun should bring; And G.o.d ordains no glory for a curse.
The souls of kings should be the towers of law, We right the balance, if the sword we draw!
"Not mine the crowns the Persian lost or won, 19 Tiaras glittering over kneeling slaves; Mine be the sword that freed at Marathon, The unborn races by the Father-graves-- Or stay'd the Orient in the Spartan pa.s.s, And carved on Time thy name, Leonidas."
The Sibyl of the Sources of the Deep 20 Heard nor replied, but, indistinct and wan, Went as a Dream that through the worlds of Sleep Leads the charm'd soul of labour-wearied man; And ev'n as man and dream, so, side by side, Glideth the mortal with the gliding guide.
Glade after glade, beneath that forest tree 21 They pa.s.s,--till sudden, looms amid the waves, A dismal rock, hugely and heavily, With crags distorted vaulting horrent caves; A single moonbeam through the hollow creeps: Glides with the beam the Lady of the deeps.
Then Arthur felt the Dove that at his breast 22 Lay nestling warm--stir quick and quivering, His soothing hand the crisped plumes caress'd;-- Slow went they on, the Lady and the King: And, ever as they went, before their way O'er prison'd waters lengthening stretch'd the ray.
Now the black jaws as of a h.e.l.l they gain; 23 The Lake's pale Hecate pauses. "Lo," she said, "Within, the Genii thou invadest reign.
Alone thy feet the threshold floors must tread-- Lone is the path when glory is the goal;-- Pa.s.s to thy proof--O solitary soul!"
She spoke to vanish--but the single ray 24 Shot from the unseen moon, still palely breaketh The awe that rests with midnight on the way; Faithful as Hope when Wisdom's self forsaketh-- The buoyant beam the lonely man pursued-- And, feeling G.o.d, he felt not Solitude.
No fiend obscene, no giant spectre grim 25 (Born or of Runic or Arabian Song), Affronts the progress through the gallery dim, Into the sudden light which flames along The waves, and dyes the stillness of their flood To one red horror like a lake of blood.
And now, he enters, with that lurid tide, 26 Where time-long corals shape a mighty hall: Three curtain'd arches on the dexter side, And on the floors a ruby pedestal, On which, with marble lips, that life-like smiled, Stood the fair Statue of a crowned Child:
It smiled, and yet its crown was wreath'd of thorns, 27 And round its limbs coil'd foul the viper's brood; Near to that Child a rough crag, deluge-torn, Jagg'd, with sharp shadow abrupt, the luminous flood; And a huge Vulture from the summit, there, Watch'd, with dull hunger in its gla.s.sy stare.
Below the Vulture in the rock ensheathed, 28 Shone out the hilt-beam of the diamond glaive; And all the hall one hue of crimson wreathed, And all the galleries vista'd through the wave; As flush'd the coral fathom-deep below, Lit into glory from the ruby's glow.
And on three thrones there sate three giant forms, 29 Rigid the first, as Death;--with lightless eyes, And brows as hush'd as deserts, when the storms Lock the tornado in the Nubian skies;-- Dead on dead knees the large hands nerveless rest, And dead the front droops heavy on the breast.
The second shape, with bright and kindling eye 30 And aspect haughty with triumphant life, Like a young t.i.tan rear'd its crest on high, Crown'd as for sway, and harness'd as for strife; But, o'er one-half his image, there was cast A shadow from the throne where sate the last.
And this, the third and last, seem'd in that sleep 31 Which neighbours waking in a summer's dawn, When dreams, relaxing, scarce their captive keep; Half o'er his face a veil transparent drawn, Stirr'd with quick sighs unquiet and disturb'd, Which told the impatient soul the slumber curb'd.
Thrill'd, but undaunted, on the Adventurer strode 32 Then spoke the youthful Genius with the crown And armour: "Hail to our august abode!
Guardless we greet the seeker of Renown.
In our least terror cravens Death behold, But vainly frown our direst for the bold."
"And who are ye?" the wondering King replied, 33 "On whose large aspects reigns the awe sublime Of fabled judges, that o'er souls preside In Rhadamanthian Halls?" "The Lords of Time,"
Answer'd the Giant, "And our realms are three, The WHAT HAS BEEN, WHAT IS, and WHAT SHALL BE!
"But while we speak my brother's shadow creeps 34 Over the life-blood that it freezes fast; Haste, while the king that shall discrown me sleeps, Nor lose the Present--lo, how dead the Past!
Accept the trials, Prince beloved by Heaven, To the deep heart--(that n.o.bler reason,) given.
"Thou hast rejected in the Cuthites' halls 35 The fruits that flush Ambition's dazzling tree, The Conqueror's l.u.s.t of blood-stain'd coronals;-- Again thine ordeal in thy judgment be!
Nor here shall empire need the arm of crime-- But Fate achieve the lot, thou ask'st from Time.
"Behold the threefold Future at thy choice, 36 Choose right, and win from Fame the master-spell."
Then the concealing veils, as ceased the voice, From the three arches with a clangor fell, And clear as scenes with Thespian wonders rife Gave to his view the Lemur-shapes of life.
Lo the fair stream amidst that pleasant vale, 37 Wherein his youth held careless holiday; The stream is blithe with many a silken sail, The vale with many a proud pavilion gay, And in the centre of the rosy ring, Reclines the Phantom of himself--the King.
All, all the same as when his golden prime 38 Lay in the lap of Life's soft Arcady; When the light love beheld no foe but Time, When but from Pleasure heaved the prophet sigh, And Luxury's prayer was as "a Summer day, 'Mid blooms and sweets to wear the hours away."
"Behold," the Genius said, "is that thy choice 39 As once it was?" "Nay, I have wept since then,"
Answer'd the mortal with a mournful voice, "When the dews fall, the stars arise for men!"
So turn'd he to the second arch to see The imperial peace of tranquil majesty;--
The kingly throne, himself the dazzling king; 40 Bright arms, and jewell'd vests, and purple stoles; While silver winds, from many a music-string, Rippled the wave of glittering banderolls: From mitred priests and ermined barons, clear Came the loud praise which monarchs love to hear!
"Doth this content thee?" "Ay," the Prince replied, 41 And tower'd erect, with empire on his brow; "Ay, here at once a Monarch may decide, Be but the substance worthy of the show!
Show me the men whose toil the pomp creates, Pomp is the robe,--Content the soul, of States!"
Slow fades the pageant, and the Phantom stage 42 As slowly fill'd with squalid, ghastly forms; Here, over fireless hearths cower'd s.h.i.+vering Age And blew with feeble breath dead embers;--storms Hung in the icy welkin; and the bare Earth lay forlorn in Winter's charnel air.
And Youth all labour-bow'd, with wither'd look, 43 Knelt by a rus.h.i.+ng stream whose waves were gold, And sought with lean strong hands to grasp the brook, And clutch the glitter lapsing from the hold, Till with mad laugh it ceased, and, tott'ring down, Fell, and on frowning skies scowl'd back the frown.
No careless Childhood laugh'd disportingly, 44 But dwarf'd, pale mandrakes with a century's gloom On infant brows, beneath a poison-tree With skeleton fingers plied a ghastly loom, Mocking in cynic jests life's gravest things, They wove gay King-robes, muttering "What are Kings?"
And through that dreary Hades to and fro, 45 Stalk'd all unheeded the Tartarean Guests; Grim Discontent that loathes the G.o.ds, and Woe Clasping dead infants to her milkless b.r.e.a.s.t.s; And madding Hate, and Force with iron heel, And voiceless Vengeance sharp'ning secret steel.
And, hand in hand, a Gorgon-visaged Pair, 46 Envy and Famine, halt with livid smile, Listening the demon-orator Despair, That, with a glozing and malignant guile, Seems sent the gates of Paradise to ope, And lures to h.e.l.l by simulating Hope.
"Can such things be below and G.o.d above?" 47 Falter'd the King;--Replied the Genius--"Nay, This is the state that sages most approve; This is Man civilized!--the perfect sway Of Merchant Kings;--the ripeness of the Art Which cheapens men--the Elysium of the Mart.
"Twixt want and wealth is placed the Reign of Gold; 48 The reign for which each race advancing sighs, And none so clamour to be bought or sold As those gaunt shadows--Trade's grim merchandize.
Dread not their curse--for their delirious sight Hails in the yellow pest 'The march of Light.'"
"Better for nations," cried the wrathful King. 49 "The antique chief, whose palace was the glen, Whose crown the plumage of the eagle's wing, Whose throne the hill-top, and whose subjects--men, Than that last thraldom which precedes decay, For Avarice reigns not till the hairs are grey.
The Poetical Works of Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, Bart. M.P Part 60
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