Classic Poem

ON THE NUPTIALS OF PELEUS, AND THETIS .

When Argos' sons, the golden fleece to gain
That hung in Colchis, dar'd the briny main
In a swift vessel, and, the azure sea
Cleaving with oars, urg'd on their rapid way;
Then the tall pines, that grew on Pelion's steep,
First learn'd to float along the watery deep,
Far as where Phasis rolls its copious waves,
And the wide realms of old Æetes laves:
Th' inventive Goddess, whose imperial throne
From the proud citadel o'erlooks the town;
First bade the ship each varying blast obey,
And curv'd to floating hulks th' obedient tree;
Fair Amphytrite's crystal bosom taught
To bear the work her magic hands had wrought:
Scarce its swift prow through the cleav'd ocean flew;
And, vext with oars, the billows whiter grew;
Than rose the Nereids from the foamy tide,
To see this wonder o'er their dwellings ride:
Daily th' enormous structure they beheld,
To mortal eyes their naked frames reveal'd;
And full to view, emerging from the flood,
Their swelling breasts and shapes half-human stood:
For Thetis then, 'tis said, young Peleus burn'd;
His mortal flame fond Thetis then return'd;
Then too her sire consented they should wed,
Convinc'd that Peleus well deserv'd the maid.

Hail, Argive heroes, born in happier days!
Hail, bark maternal, thou shalt share my praise!
Oft I'll invoke ye; oft invoke e'en thee,
O Peleus, bulwark of great Thessaly!
Peleus, thrice blest in wedlock's sacred ties!
Peleus, to whom the thund'rer of the skies,
Immortal Jove, indulgently transferr'd
The beauteous object that himself ador'd!
Does Thetis, fairest of those nymphs in charms
From Neptune sprung, now fold thee in her arms?
Does friendly Tethys; and old Ocean too,
Who girds this globe, on thee their child bestow?

At length love's long-expected hours are come,
All Thessaly frequents thy blissful home:
See, drest in smiles, what joyous numbers wait
With costly gifts, and throng thy palace gate!
See, in Pharsalus how the crowds prevail,
Forsaking Scyros, Phthian Tempe's vale,
Each Grecian city, and Larissa's wall!
Pharsalia's dwellings now assemble all!
No hind now cultures the neglected soil,
With neck relax'd the steer foregoes its toil,
No rake now weeds the vineyard's humble bough,
No bullock drags o'er furrow'd glebe the plough,
No hook molests the too luxuriant shade,
And with corroding rust the share's o'erspread.

What princely wealth round Peleus we behold!
In bright profusion silver vies with gold;
What iv'ry seats! what goblets deck the board!
All, all proclaims the splendour of its lord!

Full in the center of the mansion plac'd,
Is seen that genial bed the goddess grac'd;
That bed the murex stains with blushing dye,
And rich inlaid with Indian ivory;
On whose gay covering, wrought with art, are told
Valour's bright deeds, and heroes fam'd of old!

There Ariadne, rack'd with am'rous pains,
On Naxos' billow-beaten shore complains;
And eyes the rapid bark, that bears away
Her perjur'd Theseus o'er the distant sea:
Tho' golden sleep no more her sense deceives,
She scarce the horror of the scene believes;
Scarce thinks herself the wretch which now she stands,
A hapless wretch, forsook in desert lands!
See, sped with oars, the youth regardless goes;
And the wild winds disperse his faithless vows!
While Minos' daughter views his flight from far,
And bathes the reedy strand with many a tear:
Now like a frantick bacchanal she raves,
And her fond soul is toss'd on sorrow's waves!
No slender fillet binds her yellow head,
No shadowing veil is o'er her bosom spread,
No modest zone confines its tumid pride,
Or longer strives its struggling charms to hide;
But each gay ornament her beauty wore,
Wet with the surge, lies scatter'd on the shore:
Not then the fillet, which her locks should bind,
Not then her garb, the sport of waves and wind,
Employ her thought — — thou, Theseus, thou alone,
Reign'st the proud tyrant of her bosom's throne!
Ill-fated fair! whom Venus doom'd to prove
The thorny cares, and agonies of love;
What time from his Piraeus Theseus fled,
And sought the isle thy cruel father sway'd.

For ancient stories tell, that Athens, driv'n
By wasting plagues, and vengeance sent from heav'n,
To the fell Minotaur a tribute paid
Of many a chosen youth, and blooming maid;
Oft bled the fairest of fair beauty's train,
A sad atonement for Androgeus slain:
While Attica thus groan'd, with ills opprest;
His country's wrongs enflam'd brave Theseus' breast;
Instant his gen'rous soul resolv'd to save
Cecrops' great offspring from a timeless grave:
He climbs the rapid bark: — — from cloudless skies
Soft blow the gales, and swift the vessel flies;
Soon he arrives, where o'er th' imperial town
The stately tow'rs of potent Minos frown:
There first it was the royal Virgin view'd
The Hero's charms, there love her heart subdu'd;
She, who as yet, within her fragrant bed,
Close by a mother's side was chastely laid;
So, near Eurotas, myrtles breathe perfume;
So, fann'd by vernal airs, fresh flow'rets bloom:
Her modest eyes, that shot a trembling gleam,
Now bent on earth, betray'd her am'rous flame;
Fond tumults now disturb'd her tender thought,
And all her soul the soft infection caught!

O, infant God, proud tyrant of the breast,
Who lov'st with cares man's pleasures to molest!
And Thou, the fairest of celestial pow'rs,
Who reign'st o'er Golgos, and Idalia's bow'rs!
How did ye both the nymph's fierce pangs deride,
When for her golden-tressed guest she sigh'd!
What terrors did her trembling heart invade;
How on her cheek the transient roses fade;
When with the monster Theseus dar'd to vie,
Resolv'd to conquer, or resolv'd to die!
What prayers did then the anxious fair bestow,
And on her lips how hung each silent vow!
Vows which, tho' grateful to th' immortal train,
Were duly form'd, yet form'd, alas, in vain!

As when a whirlwind, with collected force,
To Taurus' top directs its furious course;
Thence the big oak's broad-spreading branches tears,
Or weeping pine that conick fruitage bears;
And, as it falls impetuous to the ground,
The massive trunk spreads wasting ruin round:
So prostrate fell this beast, by Theseus slain,
Whose horns terrifick beat the wind in vain.
Safe from the contest, crown'd with praises due,
Return'd the hero; and the slender clew,
Prepar'd in secret by th' enamour'd maid,
Thro' the curv'd labyrinth his steps convey'd.

But why, departing from my former theme,
Tell how the fair, subdu'd by passion's flame,
With Theseus fled a father's doating sight,
And a lov'd sister, once her sole delight;
Fled a fond mother, who, in frenzy wild,
With floods of woe bewail'd her wand'ring child?
Why tell, how once to Naxos' surgy shore
This fugitive the swift-wing'd vessel bore;
Or how th' obdurate youth forsook her charms,
While sleep yet lock'd her in his silken arms?
Oft, they relate, with burning grief opprest,
The shriek loud-sounding issued from her breast;
Oft to the craggy cliffs enrag'd she'd fly,
O'er the wide waste of waters bend her eye;
Then to the shore direct her rapid way,
Cast her bar'd feet's soft coverings away;
At length in sweetly-plaintive accent cry,
While her moist lips breath'd many a chilling sigh;
" Thus do'st thou leave me, from my country torn,
" Perfidious Theseus, on this coast forlorn?
" Thus, in contempt of yon attesting skies,
" Bear back with thee thy impious perjuries?
" Could no remembrance of our former love
" Thy savage purpose, base barbarian, move?
" Were no remains of pity left behind,
" To sooth the various tortures of my mind?
" Not such the vows that trembled on thy tongue,
" When on thy words persuasive rapture hung;
" Not woes like these, but wedlock's fond delights
" You bade me hope, and hymeneal rites!
" Now each gay dream is vanish'd into air;
" Hear this, and wisdom learn, ye witless fair!
" Ne'er let false man with empty oaths deceive,
" No protestations of the sex believe!
" Is there a wish their ardent souls would gain;
" They swear, they promise, and at length obtain;
" The wish obtain'd, they fearless break their word,
" Nor plighted faith, nor solemn vows regard:
" 'Twas I who deign'd thy fleeting soul to save,
" Just sunk in Lethe's dark oblivious wave;
" To thine I sacrific'd a brother's life,
" When danger threaten'd in the dreadful strife:
" Must I for this a corse unburied lay;
" To rav'nous birds, to prowling beasts a prey?
" Some savage lioness in rocky caves
" Nurs'd thy fierce youth, or ocean's boist'rous waves;
" Mid Lybia's burning sands thou sure wert born;
" From stormy Scylla, or Charybdis torn;
" That thus thy scorn, thy cruel scorn repays
" The partial tenderness which spar'd thy days!
" What tho' my sire, whom crime and bloodshed " stain,
" Provok'd thy soul to spurn sweet Hymen's chain;
" Thou might'st at least have suffer'd me to come,
" An humble handmaid, to thy native home;
" There I'd have wash'd thy snowy feet, and spread
" The crimson covering on thy honour'd bed.

" Fool that I am! but madness turns my brain,
" To senseless winds thus vainly to complain;
" Vainly to think that they could hear me mourn,
" Or pitying accents to my sighs return!
" Ah, now far hence he flies, on ocean tost!
" No human form is seen along this coast;
" No wretch like me, my sorrowing tale to hear!
" Why, fortune, thus insult my keen despair?
" O, had it been imperial Jove's command,
" That Attic ships had ne'er seen Cretan land;
" That the fam'd bark, which bore the prize away
" From the fierce bull, had never plough'd the sea;
" And that the youth, who smil'd such sweet deceit,
" Had never enter'd Minos' royal gate!
" Where shall I wander, what fond hopes remain?
" Say, shall I seek my native soil again?
" But o, how horrid is yon gulf, how wide,
" Whose waters from this shore my soil divide!
" Say, shall I court that father, whom I fled,
" A murd'rer stain'd with brother's blood to wed?
" Or faith, or comfort, from that husband prove,
" Who chides each loit'ring oar, and flies his love?
" Shall I, unhous'd, on this lone island stray,
" Confin'd, and circled by the beating sea?
" No means of flight, no gleam of hope I spy;
" 'Tis mute, 'tis desert all, and death seems nigh!

" Yet ere one long, long sleep shall seal these eyes;
" Ere from this wearied frame my spirit flies!
" I'll pray for vengeance on a perjur'd love,
" With my last breath conjure the pow'rs above!
" And you, Eumenides, with snaky hair,
" Who for men's crimes due chastisements prepare;
" Whose inward rage sits pictur'd on your brows;
" O, hither come, and listen to my woes!
" Woes pour'd in torture from my inmost soul,
" Where burning phrenzy, and wild tumult roll!
" Rack'd is this breast with no fictitious pain;
" Then hear my pray'r, just maids, nor hear in vain!
" And grant that Theseus, and his race may share
" Such fate accurst, as now I'm doom'd to bear! "

Thus the wrong'd fair her fervent suit preferr'd,
Vindictive anger breath'd in ev'ry word;
When strait the potent Ruler of the gods
From the firm throne of high Olympus nods;
Now shakes the solid globe, the frighted main;
Forc'd from their spheres, now shoot the starry train;
While a dark mist, with black oblivion fraught,
Obscures awhile the hero's absent thought;
Who now forgets those mandates, late imprest
By fond obedience on his filial breast;
Forgets the joyous signals to display,
As safe to port he ploughs his conqu'ring way.

For, when Ægeus to the fav'ring wind,
In the fam'd bark, his valiant son consign'd;
Leaving Minerva's sacred walls, 'tis said,
These strict injunctions on the youth he laid:
" My lov'd, my only child, than life more dear,
" But just restor'd my drooping age to chear!
" To distant climes, alas, compell'd to fly,
" In bold pursuit of dubious victory!
" Now valour calls, and fortune's stern decree
" Tears thee, sweet youth, from happiness and me!
" From a fond father's too reluctant arms,
" Whose eyes insatiate still devour thy charms!
" No longer pleasure o'er this heart prevails;
" Then, o, depart not, born by snowy sails!
" But, since fell anguish soon must pierce my soul,
" And in the dust these hoary honours roll!
" To your proud masts, as mournful emblems, tie
" Sails deeply ting'd with dark Iberian dye:
" Then should her aid Itone's Goddess lend,
" (Still to our country, and our throne a friend)
" With strength superior thy right arm endue,
" And in the monster's blood that arm imbrue;
" O, be observant of this last bchest,
" Nor e'er let time erase it from thy breast!
" Soon as to view the Attic hills appear,
" From the high yards their sable garments tear;
" And in their room, by wreathing cords confin'd,
" Spread thy white canvas to the prosp'rous wind;
" That far, far off thy sire's attentive eye
" Thy wish'd success with rapture may descry! "

As from a mountain's snowy top are driv'n
The rolling clouds, by the rude blasts of heav'n;
So from the mem'ry of lost Theseus fled
Those dictates, which before his reason sway'd:
But now his father from the ramparts' height,
All bath'd in tears, directs his eager sight;
O'er the wide sea, distended by the gale,
He spies, with dread amaze, the lurid sail;
And now, convinc'd his darling son was slain,
Frantic he plunges in the roaring main.
Thus, when his native roof the hero sought,
A father's death distracted all his thought;
And soon, too soon he felt that same despair
Which late he taught the Cretan maid to bear!
Whose ling'ring looks his distant bark pursu'd,
While wasting cares her tender breast subdu'd.

Still other scenes adorn'd the quilt, that spread
Its storied surface on fair Thetis' bed:
Here the fresh-blooming Bacchus was portray'd,
Who fondly flew to Ariadne's aid;
Silenus led gay Nysa's train along,
And round the god brisk danc'd the satyr throng,
Who hymn'd his name as frantic zeal inspir'd,
And toss'd their heads with madding fury fir'd;
Some shook the ivied thyrsus which they bore;
Some the raw limbs from mangled heifers tore;
With wreathing serpents some their waists intwin'd;
With hallow'd stores in ozier caskets shrin'd,
Some mystick rites perform'd, with solemn show,
Rites the profane in vain desire to know;
These struck the drum, whose thunder shook the ground;
Those with loud din bade brazen cymbals sound;
While others joy'd the clam'rous horn to wind;
And Phrygian fifes the horrid concert join'd.

Such were the tales this costly bed display'd,
Which all Thessalia's eager youth survey'd;
And when enough their sated eyes admir'd,
Heav'n's throng approach'd, the mortal throng retir'd.

As when Aurora gilds the morning skies,
O'er the smooth main the light-wing'd Zephyr flies,
With early breath just curls the wat'ry way,
While on its waves the quiv'ring sunbeams play,
Waves! scarcely heard on the faint-sounding coast,
Whose gentle murmurs in the gale are lost;
The wind increas'd, then loud the billows roar,
And furious from the red horizon pour:
So from the royal portal rush'd the crowd,
And to his home each took a various road.

These now dispers'd; the centaur Chiron brings,
From Pelion's brow, his rural offerings:
All the bright blooms that paint th' enamell'd field;
All that the rich Thessalian mountains yield;
Each flow'r that on the stream's fair border grows,
O'er which the breath of mild Favonius blows,
In gay profusion grace the blushing wreaths;
And vernal sweets the laughing palace breathes.

From Tempe's vale next ancient Peneus came,
That fertile vale immortaliz'd in fame!
Where Nessos' blue-eyed nymphs delight to rove,
Tempe o'erhung with many a circling grove!
The bay's aspiring, and strait trunk he brought;
Th' uprooted beech, with stately branches fraught;
The plane, whose foliage spreads a trembling shade;
The cypress tall, that lifts to heav'n its head;
And the fam'd tree, that wept, with sister love,
The youth destroy'd by the red bolts of Jove:
All these he amply wove around the throne,
And varying greens in the gay covert shone.

Prometheus follow'd with inventive brain,
Who still bore marks of heav'n-inflicted pain;
For once his limbs in tort'ring chains were slung,
And high in air from the rude cliff he hung.

Then, with his Queen, the Father of the gods
Came down from high Olympus' bright abodes;
Came down, with all th' attending deities;
Phaebus alone remain'd amid the skies
With one lov'd Sister, who delights to rove,
A sylvan huntress, in green Ida's grove;
These both alike the bride and bridegroom scorn'd,
And both alike their hymeneals spurn'd.

Soon as heav'n's glitt'ring synod took their seats,
The lavish board was crown'd with nuptial cates:
Then, as their aged frames they feebly shook,
The Destinies in song prophetic spoke.

A snowy garb their trembling limbs o'erspread,
Whose glowing border blush'd a vivid red;
Their rosy-breathing locks white fillets bound;
Their wither'd hands eternal labours crown'd;
The left a distaff held with wool array'd;
The right with upturn'd fingers drew the thread,
And as the thumb bent downward wreath'd the clew,
In rapid rounds the whirring spindle flew:
Oft with their teeth they smooth'd the slender twine,
When shreds superfluous clogg'd the work divine;
And each obstruction, that around it clung,
On their pale lips of shrivell'd coldness hung:
In ozier baskets at their feet were thrown
The silver fleeces, soft as tenderest down:
Swift as they spun, they rais'd the solemn strain,
Whose truths rever'd thro' ages shall remain.

" O, thou, to virtue and to heav'n allied,
" Illustrious Peleus, great Thessalia's pride!
" Hear, mortal, hear, in this auspicious day,
" Th' eventful words the direful Sisters say!
" And you, ye spindles, our dread voice attend;
" You, on whose course the fates of men depend!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" Soon shall bright Hesper gild the front of night;
" Shall with him bring the husband's wish'd delight;
" Shall with him bring that brighter star, thy bride,
" Who o'er thy soul shall pour sweet rapture's tide;
" And, sleeping by thy side with languid charms,
" Fold round thy manly neck her silken arms.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" No mansion, sure, e'er witness'd equal bliss,
" Nor smil'd sweet Hymen on a flame like this!
" With ardent passion beauteous Thetis burns,
" And fonder passion her dear youth returns!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" The dread Achilles shall of you be born,
" Who foes will face, but ne'er from foes will turn;
" Who, still a victor in the rapid race,
" Will shame the fleet stag with his fiery pace.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" With him no hero shall in fight compare,
" When Phrygia's floods shall blush with crimson war;
" When the third heir of perjur'd Pelops' line
" Shall raze, with ceaseless siege, Troy's tow'rs divine.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" Full many a mother o'er her children's bier
" His valiant feats, his prowess shall declare;
" Rending her locks in whitening ashes drest,
" Striking with feeble hand her livid breast!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" Beneath some reaper's hook as falls the grain,
" When autumn yellows o'er the teeming plain;
" So Ilion's heroes shall his fury feel,
" And fall in crowds beneath his vengeful steel.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" His godlike daring shall Scamander know,
" As to the Hellespont his waters flow,
" Whose narrow'd waves, choak'd up with heaps of slain,
" Shall, warm with blood, run purple to the main.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" And thou, fair Virgin, death's devoted prey!
" Who on thy lover's funeral pile must lay;
" To sooth whose ghost thy snowy limbs must bleed!
" E'en thou shalt witness ev'ry martial deed.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" For, to the war-worn Greeks when fate shall yield
" The Dardan walls, which Neptune deign'd to build:
" Then 'tis, Polixena, thy hapless doom,
" With thy pure blood to stain the high-rais'd tomb;
" And, wilful bending to the murd'rous blade,
" Fall a chaste victim to Achilles' shade.
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" Haste then, fond bridegroom; haste, thou fonder bride;
" Now shall your souls in wedlock's bands be tied!
" Now shall blest Peleus fold the nymph divine,
" Now, fervent Thetis, shall the youth be thine!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" May her nurse find, when next the dawn shall break,
" The wonted band too small to gird her neck!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love!

" May discord ne'er dissolve her nuptial ties,
" But many a grandchild greet her mother's eyes!
" Move quick, ye never-ceasing spindles, move;
" And draw the length'ning thread of life, and love! "

So sang the Fates, whose happy-omen'd song
Foretold what joys to Peleus should belong:
Thus too, when virtue was rever'd on earth,
E'en gods conferr'd with those of mortal birth;
To heroes' mansions, stampt with pious fame,
Th' august assembly of celestials came;
Heav'n's potent King oft left the starry courts,
To grace his fane, and view his annual sports,
Where, eager to attain the destin'd goal,
On festive days, an hundred chariots roll;
Bacchus would oft repair from tuneful height,
His Thyades with scatter'd locks excite;
While the glad Delphians their abodes forsook,
To hail the pow'r, and bade their altars smoke!
Oft did stern Mars who walks th' embattled field,
Oft did Minerva with her Gorgon shield,
Oft virgin Nemesis the combat share,
And lead themselves their armed hosts to war.

But, when fell crimes this impious soil o'erspread;
When lawless passions rul'd in reason's stead;
When brothers' hands were drench'd in brothers' blood;
And parents' biers no filial tears bedew'd;
When the base father spurn'd his first-born heir,
That some gay step-dame might his fortunes share;
When a son's bed th' incestuous mother stain'd,
And daringly her household gods profan'd;
When vice, as virtue, was esteem'd by men;
Then deities no longer grac'd this scene,
From earth's vile throng to their own heav'ns withdrew,
And never more appear'd to mortal view.