Classic Poem

SCENE : Olympia

Upon a bank of dewy purple flow'rs
That sloped down to an amber rivulet,
Aurora leaned, clad in a shimmering robe
Of roseate hue, with swelling bosom bared
To the wind's soft caress; her flowerlike feet,
Unsandalled, dipped like rosebuds in the waves.
About her sloping shoulders fell a stream,
Of tawny tresses that enfolded her
In flaming strands of gold stol'n from the sun.
From under thoughtful brows her piteous eyes
Gazed darkly o'er the blossoming meadowlands;
Pale skies shot thro' with scarlet showed the dawn
Of a languorous Summer day, when sun flow'rs rear
Their yellow heads in the midsummer noons.
Afar the splendor of Olympia's fanes
Rose towering gray within the ashen clouds,
Tall Doric columns tinged with reddened hue
Like fiery brands of Zeus's fashioning,
While sombre Kronos, high-seat of the Gods,
Stood grimly 'gainst the sky, its woodlands dense
A smothering Maytime green.
And while the waves
Eddied in ambient flowers at her feet
Aurora sat and mused, watching the shafts
Of sunlight radiate the fields about.
Youth, like a gorgeous robe, enfolded her,
She was enwound within its magic mesh;
And in her heart there sang sweet melodies,
And in her blood burned Youth's unbridled fire.
She panted for sheer joy of life; her cheeks
Shone roses and her lips were as ripe fruit
Beseeching taste ere it drops to decay.
Her white neck was as the soft calyx-stem
Of a just-opened lily, made for kiss, —
Mysteriously shadowed in her hair,
The two half-hidden flow'rs of her breast
Showed pink, like blossoms underneath the snow.
Dreaming she leaned against the purple bank,
Her body nestling 'mongst the Irises,
For it was Spring and her soul longed for love.

Rolling like billows on a troubled sea
One sullen cloud crossed o'er the horizon,
Wafting the scent of sea-downs and the sedge
To where Aurora musing lay; and once
Above her fair, recumbent form it paused.
Bright fire shot from the amber skies, and then
Beside the purple bank all trembling stood
A youth with windblown curls and raiment tossed,
All flushed with flame and sprinkled with the dew.
Upon his pallid brow the night-black locks
Strayed wildly and his deep, refulgent eyes
Gleamed with a winter wildness. He was as
A hunted, untamed creature of the woods
Driv'n in the cloud-fall to the maiden's side.

Standing amid the swaying grasses, he
Turned full his gaze upon Aurora's face
Lain like a blossom on the sloping bank,
And in that glance he seemed to call her soul
In silent summoning deep into his own!

Aurora turned her famished eyes upon
His graceful form, and fed her soul thereby;
Such bodily beauty was as poetry, —
His grace and charm were sweet as music is,
For like a moving melody he came
And paused beside the stream. Then their eyes met
In speechless understanding, ... There was no need
For empty words — their natures met as one.
The Youth inclined his head; in the maid's glance
He read permission to his silent wish;
So without speaking he knelt down beside
The same soft bank Aurora leaned upon.
Below, the cadence of the little stream
Kept tuneful rhythm to their throbbing hearts.
Then like Auster's sweet sighing did the maid
In gentle accents speak: " O Boy, wherefore
Cam'st thou out of the sullen dawn? Art thou
A mere pale phantom of my musings, or
Beauteous reality come from above
To solace my poor, loveless youth with joy? "
With yearning eyes the Boy leaned nearer her
And answered thus: " O, goddess of the morn,
I came from far Arcadia o'er yon hill,
Where all my years were spent in ceaseless toil.
They call me Atys and I humble am,
A creature wise only in Nature's ways,
In the moon's phases and the season's change;
The sharp sting of the shower mothered me,
The woodland moss at night-time was my couch.
Alas — of late my ways were stricken sad,
For since my eyes beheld thee one bright morn
Within the chase, thy dewy tresses tossed
And throat bared to the sun's caress, — my soul
Has had no peace within its usaged ways, —
For I have wandered toilless, thro' the woods
Companioned by thine image . . Yesterday
In sheer despair, a shepherd told me that
Were I to seek thee by the Claudius' stream
At dawn thou wouldst be bathing every day
And I would find thee wrapt in solitude. "
His voice died on the wind and wandered on
Thro' the far recess of Aurora's soul,
As a cherished echo in a charnel dim.

The resplendent sun shone on the hast'ning stream
And turned the purple bank to violet
Where Atys closer leaned toward the fair maid
Who listening looked upon his face with love;
" Aurora, goddess of the morn, I speak
Not to thee thus but to thy mortal self,
The self that breathes and palpitates with youth,
The self I first saw in the woodland chase;
Thou art the sweet star of my friendless soul,
The fleeting fairy of my dreamy hours, —
The essence of the rose, — the savour of
The infinite sea; balm to the comfortless,
The flowerful semblance of the joyous Spring,
The sweet embodiment of Paradise;
The melody in the winds, the raiment of
The colorful rainbow that bedecks the sky;
Thou art the starshine of man's darkened nights,
The piloting spirit of his wayward paths,
Queen of Apollo's Arcadia, by far
More lovely and enthroned than Hera is,
Thy sunflamed tresses hide enchantment such
As Lethean streams have not; athwart thy breast
Of hyacinthine whiteness, shadows pass
Just as my lips would fain have will; the flow'rs
Could give no honey sweeter than what I
Would find upon thy lips in pasturing!
Thy delicate throat bends like a lily's stalk,
The amber crowned head surmounting it
Is as a splendid marigold whose scent
Drives August bees stark mad with drowsiness ...
The loveliness of thy wide golden brows
Turns me to madness, and th' engirdled waist
Is as the chain of Cester's that awoke
In all beholders irresistible love.
Thy sandalled feet like petalled flow'rs hid in
The straying grass, delight my famished eyes.
O maiden — but to see thee once was Heav'n,
And now to bend beside thy loveliness
Is such sublime delight I fear to die! "