Читать книгу The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight Dramas - Bridges Robert - Страница 6

Chorus.

O miserable man, hear now the worst.

O weak and tearful race,{38}

Born to unhappiness, see now thy cause

Doomed and accurst!

It surely were enough, the bad and good

Together mingled, against chance and ill

To strive, and prospering by turns,

Now these, now those, now folly and now skill,

Alike by means well understood 1180

Or 'gainst all likelihood;

Loveliness slaving to the unlovely will

That overrides the right and laughs at law.

But always all in awe

And imminent dread:

Because there is no mischief thought or said,

Imaginable or unguessed,

But it may come to be; nor home of rest,

Nor hour secure: but anywhere,

At any moment; in the air, 1190

Or on the earth or sea,

Or in the fair

And tender body itself it lurks, creeps in,

Or seizes suddenly,

Torturing, burning, withering, devouring,

Shaking, destroying; till tormented life

Sides with the slayer, not to be,

And from the cruel strife

Falls to fate overpowering.

Or if some patient heart, 1200

In toilsome steps of duty tread apart,

Thinking to win her peace within herself,

And thus awhile succeed:

She must see others bleed,

At others' misery moan,

And learn the common suffering is her own,

From which it is no freedom to be freed:{39}

Nay, Nature, her best nurse,

Is tender but to breed a finer sense,

Which she may easier wound, with smart the worse 1210

And torture more intense.

And no strength for thee but the thought of duty,

Nor any solace but the love of beauty.

O Right's toil unrewarded!

O Love's prize unaccorded!

I say this might suffice,

O tearful and unstable

And miserable man,

Were't but from day to day

Thy miserable lot, 1220

This might suffice, I say,

To term thee miserable.

But thou of all thine ills too must take thought,

Must grow familiar till no curse astound thee,

With tears recall the past,

With tears the times forecast;

With tears, with tears thou hast

The scapeless net spread in thy sight around thee.

How then support thy fate,

O miserable man, if this befall, 1230

That he who loves thee and would aid thee, daring

To raise an arm for thy deliverance,

Must for his courage suffer worse than all?

In. Bravest deliverer, for thy prophecy

Has torn the veil which hid thee from my eyes,

If thyself art that spirit, of whom some things

Were darkly spoken—nor can I doubt thou art,

Being that the heaven its fire withholds not from thee

Nor time his secrets—tell me now thy name,

That I may praise thee rightly; and my late 1240{40} Unwitting words pardon thou, and these who still In blinded wonder kneel not to thy love. Pr. Speak not of love. See, I am moved with hate, And fiercest anger, which will sometimes spur The heart to extremity, till it forget That there is any joy save furious war. Nay, were there now another deed to do, Which more could hurt our enemy than this, Which here I stand to venture, here would I leave thee Conspiring at his altar, and fly off 1250 To plunge the branding terror in his soul. But now the rising passion of my will Already jars his reaching sense, already From heaven he bids his minion Hermes forth To bring his only rebel to his feet. Therefore no more delay, the time is short. In. I take, I take. 'Tis but for thee to give. Pr. O heavenly fire, life's life, the eye of day, Whose nimble waves upon the starry night Of boundless ether love to play, 1260 Carrying commands to every gliding sprite To feed all things with colour, from the ray Of thy bright-glancing, white And silver-spinning light: Unweaving its thin tissue for the bow Of Iris, separating countless hues Of various splendour for the grateful flowers To crown the hasting hours, Changing their special garlands as they choose. O spirit of rage and might, 1270 Who canst unchain the links of winter stark, And bid earth's stubborn metals flow like oil, Her porphyrous heart-veins boil; Whose arrows pierce the cloudy shields of dark; Let now this flame, which did to life awaken{41} Beyond the cold dew-gathering veils of morn, And thence by me was taken, And in this reed was borne, A smothered theft and gift to man below, Here with my breath revive, 1280 Restore thy lapsèd realm, and be the sire Of many an earthly fire. O flame, flame bright and live, Appear upon the altar as I blow. Chor. 'Twas in the marish reed. See to his mouth he sets its hollow flute And breathes therein with heed, As one who from a pipe with breathings mute Will music's voice evoke.— See, the curl of a cloud. 1290 In. The smoke, the smoke! Semichorus. Thin clouds mounting higher. In. 'Tis smoke, the smoke of fire. Semichorus. Thick they come and thicker,

Quick arise and quicker,

Higher still and higher.

Their wreaths the wood enfold.

—I see a spot of gold.

They spring from a spot of gold,

Red gold, deep among 1300

The leaves: a golden tongue.

O behold, behold,

Dancing tongues of gold,

That leaping aloft flicker,

Higher still and higher.

In. 'Tis fire, the flame of fire!

Semichorus. The blue smoke overhead

Is turned to angry red.

The fire, the fire, it stirs.

Hark, a crackling sound, 1310{42}

As when all around

Ripened pods of furze

Split in the parching sun

Their dry caps one by one,

And shed their seeds on the ground.

—Ah! what clouds arise.

Away! O come away.

The wind-wafted smoke,

Blowing all astray,

Blinds and pricks my eyes.

[Prometheus,

after writing his name on the altar, goes out unobserved.] Ah! I choke, I choke. —All the midst is rent: See, the twigs are all By the flaming spent White and gold, and fall. How they writhe, resist, Blacken, flake, and twist, Snap in gold and fall. —See the stars that mount, Momentary bright 1330 Flitting specks of light More than eye can count. Insects of the air, As in summer night Show a fire in flying Flickering here and there, Waving past and dying. —Look, a common cone Of the mountain pine Solid gold is grown; 1340 Till its scales outshine, Standing each alone In the spiral rows Of their fair design, All the brightest shows Of the sun's decline.{43} —Hark, there came a hiss, Like a startled snake Sliding through the brake. Oh, and what is this? 1350 Smaller flames that flee Sidelong from the tree, Hark, they hiss, they hiss. —How the gay flames flicker, Spurting, dancing, leaping Quicker yet and quicker, Higher yet and higher, —Flaming, flaring, fuming, Cracking, crackling, creeping, Hissing and consuming: 1360 Mighty is the fire.

In. Stay, stay, cease your rejoicings. Where is he,

The prophet—nay, what say I—the god, the giver?

Chor. He is not here—he is gone.

In. Search, search around.

Search all, search well.

Chor. He is gone—he is not here.

In. The palace gate lies open: go, Argeia,

Maybe he went within: go seek him there.

[Exit Ar.

Look down the sea road, down the country road:

Follow him if ye see him.

Chor. He is not there.

In. Strain, strain your eyes: look well: search everywhere.

Look townwards—is he there?

Part of Chorus returning. He is not there.— 1371 Other part returning. He is not there.

Argeia re-entering.

Ar. He is not there.

Chor. O see!

Chor. See where?{44}

Chor. See on the altar—see!

Chor. What see ye on the altar?

Chor. Here in front

Words newly writ.

Chor. What words?

Chor. A name—

In. Ay true—

There is the name. How like a child was I,

That I must wait till these dumb letters gave

The shape and soul to knowledge: when the god

Stood here so self-revealed to ears and eyes

That, 'tis a god I said, yet wavering still, 1380

Doubting what god—and now, who else but he?

I knew him, yet not well; I knew him not:

Prometheus—ay, Prometheus. Know ye, my children,

This name we see was writ by him we seek.

'Tis his own name, his own heart-stirring name,

Feared and revered among the immortal gods;

Divine Prometheus: see how here the large

Cadmeian characters run, scoring out

The hated title of his ancient foe—

To Zeus 'twas made—and now 'tis to Prometheus—1390

Writ with the charrèd reed—theft upon theft.

He hath stolen from Zeus his altar, and with his fire

Hath lit our sacrifice unto himself.

Ió Prometheus, friend and firegiver,

For good or ill thy thefts and gifts are ours.

We worshipped thee unknowing.

Chor. But now where is he?

In. No need to search—we shall not see him more.

We look in vain. The high gods when they choose

Put on and off the solid visible shape

Which more deceives our hasty sense, than when 1400

Seeing them not we judge they stand aloof.

And he, he now is gone; his work is done:

'Tis ours to see it be not done in vain.{45}

Chor. What is to do? speak, bid, command, we fly.

In. Go some and fetch more wood to feed the fire;

And some into the city to proclaim

That fire is ours: and send out messengers

To Corinth, Sicyon, Megara and Athens

And to Mycenæ, telling we have fire:

And bid that in the temples they prepare 1410

Their altars, and send hither careful men

To learn of me what things the time requires.

[Exit part of Chorus.

The rest remain to end our feast; and now

Seeing this altar is no more to Zeus,

But shall for ever be with smouldering heat

Fed for the god who first set fire thereon,

Change ye your hymns, which in the praise of Zeus

Ye came to sing, and change the prayer for fire

Which ye were wont to raise, to high thanksgiving,

Praising aloud the giver and his gift. 1420

Part of Chorus. Now our happy feast hath ending, While the sun in heaven descending Sees us gathered round a light Born to cheer his vacant night. Praising him to-day who came Bearing far his heavenly flame: Came to crown our king's desire With his gift of golden fire. Semichorus. My heart, my heart is freed. Now can I sing. I loose a shaft from my bow, 1430 A song from my heart to heaven, and watch it speed. It revels in the air, and straight to its goal doth go. I have no fear. I praise distinguishing duly: I praise the love that I love and I worship truly. Goodness I praise, not might, Nor more will I speak of wrong,{46} But of lovingkindness and right; And the god of my love shall rejoice at the sound of my song. I praise him whom I have seen: As a man he is beautiful, blending prime and youth, 1440 Of gentle and lovely mien, With the step and the eyes of truth, As a god—O were I a god, but thus to be man! As a god, I set him above The rest of the gods; for his gifts are pledges of love, The words of his mouth rare and precious, His eyes' glance and the smile of his lips are love. He is the one Alone of all the gods, Of righteous Themis the lofty-spirited son, 1450 Who hates the wrongs they have done. He is the one I adore. For if there be love in heaven with evil to cope— And he promised us more and more— For what may we not hope?

ODE.

My soul is drunk with joy, her new desire

In far forbidden places wanders away.

Her hopes with free bright-coloured wings of fire

Upon the gloom of thought

Are sailing out. 1460

Awhile they rise, awhile to rest they softly fall,

Like butterflies, that flit

Across the mountains, or upon a wall

Winking their idle fans at pleasure sit.

O my vague desires!

Ye lambent flames of the soul, her offspring fires:

That are my soul herself in pangs sublime

Rising and flying to heaven before her time:{47}

What doth tempt you forth

To melt in the south or shiver in the frosty north? 1470

What seek ye or find ye in your random flying,

For ever soaring aloft, soaring and dying?

Joy, the joy of flight;

They hide in the sun, they flare and dance in the night.

Gone up, gone out of sight—and ever again

Follow fresh tongues of fire, fresh pangs of pain.

Ah! could I control

These vague desires, these leaping flames of the soul:

Could I but quench the fire, ah! could I stay

My soul that flieth, alas, and dieth away! 1480

[Enter other part of Chorus.

Part of Chor. Here is wood to feed the fire— Never let its flames expire. Sing ye still while we advance Round the fire in measured dance, While the sun in heaven descending Sees our happy feast have ending. Weave ye still your joyous song, While we bear the wood along. Semichorus. But O return, Return, thou flower of the gods! 1490 Remember the limbs that toil and the hearts that yearn, Remember, and soon return! To prosper with peace and skill Our hands in the works of pleasure, beauty and use. Return, and be for us still Our shield from the anger of Zeus. And he, if he raise his arm in anger to smite thee, And think for the good thou hast done with pain to requite thee, Vengeance I heard thee tell, And the curse I take for my own, 1500 That his place is prepared in hell,{48} And a greater than he shall hurl him down from his throne Down, down from his throne! For the god who shall rule mankind from the deathless skies By mercy and truth shall be known, In love and peace shall arise. For him—if again I hear him thunder above, O then, if I crouch or start, I will press thy lovingkindness more to my heart, Remember the words of thy mouth rare and precious, 1510 Thy heart of hearts and gifts of divine love.

{49}