Classic Poem

5. The Song of the Oceanides.
As evening falls it dimmer grows at sea,
And alone, with his own lonely spirit,
There sits a man upon the naked sea-shore,
And gazes, with death-cold look, aloft
To the wide and death-cold vault of heaven;
And gazes abroad on the wide-rolling sea.
Sailing through air his sighs go forth,
And return again disconsolate:
For they found that the heart was tight-barred
In which they had hoped to anchor.
And he groaned so loud, that the white seamews
Were scared from their nests in the sea-sand,
And fluttered in swarms around him;
And thus he spoke to them in jesting accents:
" You black-legged sea-fowl,
You with white wings, floating over the ocean,
You with curved beaks sucking-in the sea-water,
And gorging the oily, fat seal-flesh —
Your life is bitter, as is your diet,
While I, the high-favoured, taste nothing but sweetness.
I taste the sweet breath of the rose,
The bride of the nightingale, fed on the moonshine.
I taste, too, all sorts of sugary confections,
Filled with the softest of whipped cream.
And the sweetest of all that I taste is
Sweet love, and its tender return!
She loves me! she loves me! the beautiful maiden!
She stands now, at home, at the oriel window,
And peers through the twilight afar down the causeway,
And is listening and longing — for me, I am certain!
Vainly she gazes all round, and then such a sigh comes,
And sighing she passes down into the garden,
And saunters midst perfume and moonlight;
And talks to the flowers, and is telling them
How lovely I am — her belov'd one —
And how worthy of love — I am certain.
And after, in bed, in her sleep, in her dream,
My dear image hovers around her.
And even at morning — at breakfast,
Upon the shining bread and butter,
She sees my countenance smiling;
And she eats it all up out of love — I am certain. "

So he went on chattering and chattering,
And in pauses the seamews kept shrilling
A cold, ironical snigger.
The grey mists of twilight were rising:
From a dark blue cloud-bank, and eerily
Peeped out the yellow-green moon!
Hoarsely the sea-waves are roaring,
And deep from the hoarse-roaring sea,
Mournful as storm-blast in darkness,
Sounds the song of the daughters of Ocean,
The lovely, the pitiful sea-nymphs.
And clear above all the voice, so sweet-sounding,
Of the silvery-footed consort of Peleus.
And they sigh, and they sing:
" O thou fool, thou fool, thou boastful fool!
Tortured by doubt and anguish!
From henceforth thy hopes all are slaughtered.
Those children thy fond heart has dandled,
And, like Niobe's, thy heart, too, alas!
Turns to stone from sorrow!
In thy brain there is Night,
And the lightnings of madness dart through it,
And thou boastest in anguish.
O fool, thou fool, thou boastful fool!
Stiff-necked art thou, like thy grandsire,
The lofty Titan, who stole heaven's fire
From the Gods, and gave it to men,
And vulture-tormented, and chained to the rocks,
Hurled scorn at Olympus, defied it, and groaned
Till we heard him in depths of the Ocean,
And came to his comfort with song.
O fool, thou fool, thou boastful fool!
But thou art far weaker than he;
And 'twere wise did'st thou honour the Gods,
And bear in patience thy misery's burden:
Bear it in patience for long, and yet longer,
Till Atlas himself shall lose patience,
And pitch off the load of the world from his shoulders
Into Night's chaos eternal! "

So sounded the song of the daughters of Ocean,
The lovely, the pitiful sea-nymphs;
Till the waves sounded louder and drowned it.
The Moon hid herself in the cloud-bank,
And night yawned around me.
Full long sat I there in the darkness, and wept.