Page images
PDF
EPUB

Throw down those imps, and give me victory.

Let me hear other groans, and trumpets blown

Of triumph calm, and hymns of festival,

From the gold peaks of heaven's high-piled clouds; 410
Voices of soft proclaim, and silver stir

Of strings in hollow shells; and there shall be
Beautiful things made new, for the surprise
Of the sky-children." So he feebly ceased,
With such a poor and sickly-sounding pause,
Methought I heard some old man of the earth
Bewailing earthly loss; nor could my eyes
And ears act with that unison of sense

Which marries sweet sound with the grace of form,
And dolorous accent from a tragic harp

With large-limb'd visions. More I scrutinized.

Still fixt he sat beneath the sable trees,

Whose arms spread straggling in wild serpent forms,
With leaves all hush'd; his awful presence there

(Now all was silent) gave a deadly lie

415

420

425

To what I erewhile heard: only his lips

Trembled amid the white curls of his beard;

They told the truth, though round the snowy locks
Hung nobly, as upon the face of heaven

A mid-day fleece of clouds. Thea arose,

And stretcht her white arm through the hollow dark,
Pointing some whither: whereat he too rose,
Like a vast giant, seen by men at sea

To grow pale from the waves at dull midnight.
They melted from my sight into the woods;
Ere I could turn, Moneta cry'd, "These twain

Are speeding to the families of grief,

Where, rooft in by black rocks, they waste in pain

(408-14) Compare Book I, lines 127-33.

430

435

And darkness, for no hope." And she spake on,
As ye may read who can unwearied pass
Onward from the antechamber of this dream,
Where, even at the open doors, awhile

I must delay, and glean my memory
Of her high phrase-perhaps no further dare.

END OF CANTO I.

440

CANTO II.

"MORTAL, that thou may'st understand aright,
I humanize my sayings to thine ear,
Making comparisons of earthly things;
Or thou might'st better listen to the wind,
Whose language is to thee a barren noise,
Though it blows legend-laden thro' the trees.
In melancholy realms big tears are shed,
More sorrow like to this, and such like woe,
Too huge for mortal tongue or pen of scribe.
The Titans fierce, self-hid or prison-bound,
Groan for the old allegiance once more,
Listening in their doom for Saturn's voice.
But one of the whole eagle-brood still keeps
His sovereignty, and rule, and majesty:
Blazing Hyperion on his orbed fire

Still sits, still snuffs the incense teeming up
From Man to the Sun's God-yet insecure.
For as upon the earth dire prodigies
Fright and perplex, so also shudders he;

5

10

15

(7) The remainder of this fragment should be compared in detail with the maturer version, Book I, lines 158-217.

Not at dog's howl or gloom-bird's hated screech,
Or the familiar visiting of one

Upon the first toll of his passing bell,
Or prophesyings of the midnight lamp;
But horrors, portioned to a giant nerve,

Make great Hyperion ache. His palace bright,
Bastion'd with pyramids of shining gold,
And touch'd with shade of bronzed obelisks,
Glares a blood-red thro' all the thousand courts,
Arches, and domes, and fiery galleries;

20

25

And all its curtains of Aurorian clouds

Flash angerly; when he would taste the wreaths
Of incense breath'd aloft from sacred hills,
Instead of sweets, his ample palate takes
Savour of poisonous brass and metals sick;
Wherefore when harbour'd in the sleepy West,
After the full completion of fair day,
For rest divine upon exalted couch,
And slumber in the arms of melody,

30

35

He paces through the pleasant hours of ease,
With strides colossal, on from hall to hall,
While far within each aisle and deep recess
His winged minions in close clusters stand
Amaz'd, and full of fear; like anxious men,
Who on a wide plain gather in sad troops,

40

When earthquakes jar their battlements and towers.
Even now where Saturn, rous'd from icy trance,
Goes step for step with Thea from yon woods,
Hyperion, leaving twilight in the rear,

45

Is sloping to the threshold of the West.

Thither we tend." Now in clear light I stood,
Reliev'd from the dusk vale. Mnemosyne
Was sitting on a square-edg'd polish'd stone,
That in its lucid depth reflected pure

50

Her priestess' garments. My quick eyes ran on
From stately nave to nave, from vault to vault,
Through bow'rs of fragrant and enwreathed light,
And diamond-paved lustrous long arcades.
Anon rush'd by the bright Hyperion;

His flaming robes stream'd out beyond his heels,
And gave a roar as if of earthy fire,

55

60

That scar'd away the meek ethereal hours,

And made their dove-wings tremble. On he flared.

(57) Lord Houghton gives diamond-paned here; but as the line is otherwise identical with line 220 of Book I of Hyperion as printed by Keats, there can be no doubt that diamond-paved is the right expression.

(62) Lord Houghton notes that the manuscript ends here.

« PreviousContinue »