When mankind with labour wearied
Eyelids close in peaceful slumber;
Sleeping in the dewy silence.
In the valley of night's shadows.
Through the darkness came a knocking
On the bars that hold my casement,
And the bolts were tried and shaken
By a hand upon the outside;
Some one in the murky darkness
Knocking at the grated window.
Loud I spoke then, "Who so noisy
Tries the fastenings of my casement
Shaking all the window trellis ;
Scattering all sleep's pleasant visions,
From the wizard realms of Morpheus
Thus dispelling all the pastime."
Answered me a small voice saying,
"It is but a child, so fear not
To have pity and give shelter,
Pity a poor little fellow
Who has lost his way out playing;
Chasing grey moths in the gloaming
Of this moonless night's discomfort,-
Having lost my way a long time,
I was drenched by great black rain clouds;
With the cold and wet I shiver,
Do admit a little fellow."
Holding high a lamp, I opened
Wide the door-a boy child entered
Of a most surpassing beauty,
Silver wings upon his shoulders,
And a bow he carried with him
And some arrows in a quiver.
Soon upon my knee the child sat
While I chafed his little fingers,
Held each little hand so chilly
In the hollow of my warm palms
Till I made his small hands warmer.
Then he said, "Suppose we try now
If the rain has hurt my bow string,
Or the horn is harmed by dampness;
Let us try if it will string now."
Soon the tiny reflex stringing,
Cunningly he placed an arrow,
In another instant shot me
Through my quickened heart's pulsations;
Stung me like a stinging gadfly.
Then up jumping laughed the urchin,
Mocking like a little mischief,
Saying, "O, my entertainer
Join with me in great rejoicing;
That my bow is quite uninjured
Should afford us much contentment:
That no harm has happened to it
You will soon know from what follows,
When you taste each sweet and bitter
Flower of love's capricious fancy
Springing from the wound it gave you :
Sweet and bitter seeds erotic
In your heart will soon be growing."
Titanic in his strength he rears
His mighty shoulders square and high; Upon his rock-cut brow appears
The crown of seven fold victory.
In grey-haired majesty alone he stands,
Deep in a wood beyond Crotona's plains;
A biforked tree he seizes with both hands-
He strains-it yields, again, again he strains:
The riven stem a yawning chasm shows,
With bended knee he makes it wider gape;
Ah, me! his right hand slips, the fibres close
With torturing grasp that yields him no escape.
Loud thunder rolls, the lightning's sudden glare
Scares the wild Dryad from the splintered oak; The rushing wind screams through her horrent hair, And cowering Satyrs goat-legged Pan invoke.
A circling eagle in the night air swims;
Gaunt wolves rush howling on their destined prey; With cruel fangs they tear his shuddering limbs, And madness whirls the wrestling soul away.
"O come, O bella, l'ardor dei vino
Piu corallini tuoi labbri fa.'
Bacco vi stilla soave amore
D'un tal sapore, che Amor non ha."
Little Oread, Oread mine!
Drink with me Icarian wine,
Per Lyaeo! in the way,
Embalmed of old in Poet's lay:
As one dreamt of Moenads singing,
When their revelry was ringing,—
Ivy crowned, their wild way winging,
Thyrsi shaking, branches breaking—
On the Thracian height.
And their silver cymbals, clashing,
To the time of swift feet flashing,
In the slanting light.
When fond lovers, two and two,
Scatter'd o'er the distant view,
Romping played, as you with me,
Till the sun sank in the sea.
Little Oread, listen well!
Listen to me, as I tell
How to work the magic spell.
For the song may be but sung
To the loving and the young;
Only sweetest of enslavers
Are deemed worthy of such favors.
Per Lyaeo! Oread mine!
This, the cup to hold the wine,
Should be like the lily fair,
Yet tinged with warmer lustre ;
On each side in ample folds
Auburn hair should cluster:
Eyes that gleam with pretty malice
O'er a brimming foaming chalice.
Smoothness of the inside lip,
Red as opening rose bud tip,
Should receive the sparkling wine
Where bright ivory flood gates shine;
For against those portals white
Leaps the tide with fresh delight.
Now to the foam bell's music listen,
Saucy brown eyes brighter glisten;
Sparkling foam bells faster follow
To their coral prison hollow!
Where the hidden tints suffuse
Of the inmost cactus' hues.
From the crisp gourd's yellow shell,
Watch the last frisk nectar bell
Vanish in that pretty cell;'
Soon again to be set free,
Welcomed, ah! so lovingly.
Then his lips the portal press
With a thirsting tenderness;
For the wine love's sweetness gained
In ambrosial mouth retained.
Thus the Faun recorded,-while
Oread listened with a smile;
And the time they now beguile.
Interspersed with kissing, laughing,
Alternate from each other quaffing.
Shadowed by a sun-lit vine,
Their little souls grow dank with wine;
And their giddy senses lave
In the Dionusian wave:
Till, with lithe arms half entwining,
On a bank they rest reclining.
And the dusky twilight creeping
Up the hillside finds them sleeping.
ΚΑΛΟΝ ΕΣΤΙ ΒΑΔΙΖΕΙΝ.
Pleasant are those summer saunterings, where the meadow's long haired sheen
Shows the track of Zephyr's footsteps, as in ancient times was seen
When he chased the swift Podarge, under antique skies
Zephuros the happy wooer!
Glorious are the tree-arched openings, juicy tendrils of
Swing their graceful pendent clusters, and around each other twine.
Life is pleasant, thus sun sheltered, with another hand
Zephuros around thee wooing.
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