il MijI'il i ' i /iniMlj ' i iilii r i rifl'h rl . hliiill i ii li f .i i i| r nnVd i rt i il l i r 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
 'VSf6'79 
 
 ©1^ dcj^ujiiijlli !f 0. 
 
 Shelf".. 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
Cy"' 
 
 ..0 
 
 PEDANTIC VERSICLES 
 
 i/ 
 
 ISAAC FLAGG 
 
 3.-®iC 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 PUBLISHED BY GINN, HEATH, & CO. 
 1 88.^. 
 
7S ini 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year i88j, by 
 
 ISAAC FLAGG, 
 In tlie Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Waslungiou. 
 
 J. S. Gushing & Co., Printers, Boston. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Versicles 3 
 
 Paraphrases 23 
 
 Hylethen . , 49 
 
 Songs of Eros 59 
 
 Symposium Metricum ........ 77 
 
VERSICLES 
 
Ha ! — ^/lerc V a double meaning in that. 
 
 Shakespeare. 
 
TO A REVOLVING BOOKCASE. 
 
 TIJ^RIEND of mc bookworm, more than double- 
 faced, — 
 
 Thereby above duplicity, — whose four 
 
 Broadsides sahite me, offering each a score 
 (Handy at this perusing elbow placed, 
 To serve, by turns, its indolence or haste) 
 
 Of tomes replete with my peculiar lore : 
 
 Not thy ingenuousness concerns me more, — 
 Beholding thus the phases of my taste 
 
 Successively revealed — grammar awhile, 
 Then sentiment (alas ! not less profound), 
 
 And so forth ; — no regards of mood or style 
 Outweigh a problem I would fain propound 
 
 To men of cipher, — how much, by the mile. 
 Thou savest me a year, in going round ! 
 
Versicles. 
 
 TO AN OIL-STOVE. 
 
 Now Heaven assist me to amass 
 
 Thy attributes beneath one name, 
 
 Imp of the evil eyes in glass, 
 
 Gleaming with doubly wicked flame 
 
 Thou, though of base metallic birth, 
 And fed with watery fuel, won 
 
 From the cold breast of mother earth. 
 Dost warm me like some little sun. 
 
 Such thy vile origin, no doubt 
 
 To be blown up I well avoid, 
 
 As I proceed to blow thee out, 
 Tinny petroleasteroid ! 
 
Vcrsiclcs. 7 
 
 TO A STAINED-GLASS WINDOW. 
 
 Soft-blinking transom, from a crude outdoors 
 Letting a dim, if not religious, ray 
 In on the cultured drone — yet who, that sees 
 Through thy desigUj much-pitted board, could 
 
 doubt 
 Its holiness ? Ah no ! there is a whole 
 Gospel of sweetness, mazy polychrome, 
 In those weird conic sections, jigsaw-limned, 
 And secondary colors (all of prime 
 Importance to aesthetic nerves), ranged not 
 With stale, Philistine symmetry of pattern, 
 To pall on the cloyed sense. What meant the 
 
 churl 
 Who glazed thee and confined thee in the socket. 
 When, in thin tones, with grin heretical, 
 He asked me if I 'd have it upside-down, 
 Or downside-up .-* Blind scoffer, he shall have 
 His labor for his panes — a putty man, 
 To chaffer lewdly with a child of light ! 
 
8 Versifies. 
 
 ULYSSES' WINE. 
 
 {Abroad.) 
 
 Cyclops, here 's wine ; prithee wash down the 
 sickening 
 
 Meal of man's flesh behind that ruthless jaw. 
 See what' a drink I boast; an find'st it quickening, 
 
 Grant I sail home, and not descend thy maw. 
 
 Man, that is wine ! — scarce from Cyclopean 
 presses 
 
 Flowed the rich nectar each immortal sips, — 
 Warm as far Phoebus' ray the glebe caresses, — 
 
 Sweet as a kiss from Cytherea's lips ! 
 
 Fill here again : marry, I bear no malice 
 
 Toward the fair pourer ; tell thy wretched 
 name. — 
 Now, by my eye, great Bacchus tipped that 
 chalice ! — 
 Zounds ! and my namesakes touched it with 
 their flame ! 
 
Vcrsiclcs. 9 
 
 Noman ? More, more ! — Last, but not least, I 
 
 guzzle 
 No-man ! — Heigh ho, my head ! Pluck off this 
 
 wreath ! 
 Weighs I'k' old bristly Etna ; w' 're 'av'n' a 
 
 tussle ; 
 • H-he 's on t'-top, 'nd I 'm-m-m-underneath. 
 
 ^ O .ri 
 
 
lO Versiclcs. 
 
 CALYPSO'S WHINE. 
 
 {Strophe.^ 
 
 Strange mortal, whom Poseidon 
 Of troubles turned high tide on, 
 Because Kyklops, one fine dawn, 
 Woke up and found his eye gone : 
 Why can't you stay witji me more? 
 Not, moping by the seashore, 
 Tears for Penelope pour ? 
 You 're certainly a new man, 
 To set an earthly woman 
 Above a super-human ! 
 You stick to one as few can. 
 I don't know what I had done. 
 If fate had made me that one. 
 And, if before 't was sad fun. 
 This almost makes me mad run. 
 It tears my very tissues, 
 To cut from hopes of bliss loose. 
 And let you go on this cruise ! 
 O, what a tyrant is Zeus — 
 How might I, might I bis choose ! 
 O, terrible odd issues, 
 
 Odysseus ! 
 
Vers if Its. 
 
 (^Aniist raphe.) 
 
 Goddess, — if it beseem us 
 To speak of that extreme muss 
 We had with Polyphemus, 
 I 'd rather hear the knave yell, 
 From now till half his cave fell, 
 Than in this living grave dwell. 
 Dubbed of the sea the navel. 
 If any country, save Hell 
 (You know I had to brave Hell), 
 Will let a man behave well, 
 I think I 'd better go there, 
 And not be hid in nowhere 
 By sweethearts, never so fair. 
 And now, unless a low snare 
 Is laid by Zeus, I do swear 
 (You needn't bite your lip so), 
 I shan't propel that ship slow ! 
 Slip, slap — my heart and ribs go, 
 Tears on excursion-trips flow. 
 In spite of memet ipso, 
 To get apo-calypse, O 
 
 Kalypso ! 
 
 II 
 
1 2 Vcrsicles. 
 
 CIRCE'S SWINE. 
 
 {Porcellian Chorus.) 
 
 Circe, Circe, Circe ! 
 Thirst we, thirst we ! 
 First me ! First me ! First me ! 
 Circe feed me, Circe heed me ; 
 Circe, white Circe, 
 Circe seated there. 
 Folded hands, flowing hair : 
 Of that wand behind thee 
 Is no want to bind me ; 
 Who could, who could fly 
 From the sty in Circe's eye ? 
 
 Not I ! Not I ! 
 Harming charmer, sorceress ; 
 "Charming harmer, not the less : 
 Who wins of Circe's wine, 
 Is won of Circe's wine ! 
 Wins a curse he, what the worse he ? 
 What the worse, worse we, 
 Versi, versi, vej'sif 
 
 Mercy, mercy ! 
 Circe, Circe, Circe ! 
 
Versiclcs. 13 
 
 ULYSSES' WINE. 
 
 {^At home.) 
 
 High-flickering fagots streaked the walls 
 Of lost Ulysses' shadowy halls. 
 
 Late sprawling at his regal board, 
 Revelled the suitors' noisy horde. 
 
 They gorged his cuts of beeves and swine, 
 They crunched his bread, they gulped his wine. 
 
 Liodes, deemed of bad the best ; 
 Antinous, Polybus, and the rest. 
 
 The aged bard who praised his house 
 They made rehearse to their carouse. 
 
 His costly fare they spilled and spurned ; 
 No morsel to the gods they burned. 
 
 They tossed his cups with scoff and leer. 
 They pulled his maids who brought the cheer. 
 
 They threw their thoughts where lay his bride, 
 And vowed right soon to clasp her side. 
 
14 Versiclcs. 
 
 With belch and shout, in ribald jest, 
 Oft thus the one the other addressed : 
 
 ' Mine host, boys, seems inclined to stay ; 
 Let 's hope him back by judgment-day!' 
 
 ' Ay, that 's when madam means to stop, 
 And let this weaving-business drop ! ' 
 
 ' O, curse her! — she's a pretty thing, 
 To keep us waiting for a string ! ' 
 
 'That web, ha ha! for grandpa's shroud: 
 Big enough soon to cover a crowd ! ' 
 
 ' Let her hang off ; we 're like to thrive, 
 At this rate, till our turn arrive ! ' 
 
 ' Enough said, and here 's to three in one : 
 The drowned father, grandfather, and the son ! ' 
 
 ' All in one boat, and that upset : 
 
 We '11 have the lad with his governor yet!' 
 
 ' Tune up that turtle-shell, old boy ; 
 Give us the taking-doivn of Troy !' 
 
Vers ides. 15 
 
 ' How now, my filly ? — not quite so cross ! 
 Don't prance away from the wooden horse ! ' 
 
 ' What 's that, daddy Catgut, to spice a spree ? 
 Give us a Hymen Hymenee ! ' 
 
 ' Pe/etis and TJiet!' ' TJieseus and Ary ! 
 
 ' Give us tJie widozv ivJio never ivonld marry ! ' 
 
 'That 's what 's the matter! — come down here 
 Pen!' 
 
 'And show yourself to the gentlemen!' 
 
 ' All down the centre ! ' ' Every couple go in ! ' 
 
 ' Gee out ! ' ' Who said so ? ' ' Mind your taps ! ' 
 
 ' Who threw that mug ? ' ' No, that 's too thin ! ' 
 
 ' Get off ! ' ' Not much ! ' 'We '11 see '— ' Per-haps ! ' 
 
 ' Give us the Centaurs and the Laps ! ' 
 
 ' Take off his shoes ! ' ' You can't spell able ! ' 
 
 ' Is this a window ? ' 'Is this the floor ? ' 
 
 ' Give us the Calydo7iian boar ! ' 
 
 ' Who 's he ? ' ' What made her ? ' ' Hold up that 
 table ! ' 
 
1 6 Vers teles. 
 
 'Just so!' 'All night!' 'Bring me one more!' 
 
 ' He 's coming ! ' ' How many ? ' ' Who keeps 
 this stable ? ' 
 
 ' Don't shoot ! ' ' Can't swim ! ' 
 
 ' What 's got me, boys ? ' 
 
 ' Who doused — that glim ? ' 
 
 ' Where 's all that — noise ? ' 
 
Veisicles. \ y 
 
 CABALLATION. 
 
 Exclaimed a fractious steed one day i 
 You say, Be hitched, but I say — Nay ! 
 
 Hold out that corn, if you see fit ; 
 But mind now, I don't take — a bit ! 
 
 Touching those things we might term gallers, 
 Old man, I can receive no — callers. 
 
 In fact, you 'd best give over reaching 
 That buggy, lest I stave a — breach in. 
 
 And cast, of straps if I find traces. 
 Your lines in quite unpleasant places ! 
 
 Old horse, quoth man, this may be so ; 
 But you '11 be hitched, for ivJicel or whoa ! 
 
 And first, — while home the whaling went, — 
 Will you take that as punnish meant ? 
 
? Vcrsicles. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Reader, who standeth under jokes, — 
 
 To waste no word on tipsy folks, 
 
 Who feel their conscious knees dissolving 
 
 Before a bookcase stops revolving ; — 
 
 But ye who steered erect and slow 
 
 'Twixt versicles and vertigo. 
 
 That is (and no schoolmaster's squib this). 
 
 Steady 'twixt Scylla and Charybdis : — 
 
 Ye boys and girls who know what fun comes 
 
 From Greek and Latin and conundrums : 
 
 Who counts me, for professors' wages, 
 
 The precious puns in these few pages ? 
 
 No escapade escape your eyes, 
 
 Italic set or otherwise. 
 
 And proper forfeiture be paid 
 
 For sally found where none was made. 
 
 Hand in a full classification 
 
 (Missing no hit at derivation) : 
 
Vei'sicles. 19 
 
 How many sing-, how many double, 
 
 How many trip-, how many trouble ; 
 
 The hard, the soft, the gay, the sad ones, 
 
 And — now be careful, girls! — the bad ones. 
 
 Be careful too (beware the dog !) 
 
 And glean out well the epilogue. 
 
 That lad or lass shall be my pride, who 
 
 Knows better what I do than I do. 
 
20 Versicles. 
 
 EPIGRAMS. 
 
 Dear boys, precociously inclined 
 
 To teach your tutors their remissness : 
 
 That student busies best his mind, 
 
 Who studies most to mind his business. 
 
 Which tougher builds the student bone, 
 Platonic Greek, or mathematics i* — 
 
 Antics of quantities unknown, 
 
 Or quandaries of knowing Attics .'' 
 
 Strive on indifferent, charming girl, to seem ! 
 That moves me not in different wise to dream : 
 Though your indifference were in me amiss, 
 Here 's room for hope — in difference such as 
 this. 
 
Versicles. 2 1 
 
 What dolts as partners of their lives 
 Fine women take ! has oft been said : 
 
 These might rejoin, What frights of wives 
 Wise men are satisfied to wed ! 
 
 Not rhyme, but reason genius shows ! — 
 Brays many a bungler, in his season ; 
 
 Then prints — what was not meant for prose, 
 But leaves the world to guess the reason. 
 
 Who slights that tongue yclept the mother, 
 Shall win no favors from another. 
 
PARAPHRASES 
 
YleXoTTouvaaicrTl \aXev/ii6<i, 
 
THE FESTIVAL OF ADONIS. 
 
 [See the fifteenth idyll of Theocritus.') 
 
 persons represented. 
 
 Mrs. Gorgo. Mrs. Praxinoa 
 
 EuTYCHlS, her maiii. 
 
 EUNOA, 
 
 First Spectator. Phrygia, -• 
 
 Second Spectator. Zopyrion, her son. 
 
 An Old Woman. 
 
 Scene I. — Mrs. Praxinoa' s House at Alexandria. 
 GoRGd (A) Etiiioa, the maid, rolio opens the door). 
 
 Is Praxinoa in .' 
 
 Pr.\XINOA (^appearing behind and answering in person). 
 
 Well, she is — if that 's all ! 
 So, at last, madam Gorgo, you concluded to call ! 
 See a chair for her, Eunoa, — with a cushion on 't 
 too. 
 
26 Paraphrases. 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 O, don't put yourself out ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 There, be seated, now do ! 
 
 GoRGO {sinking exhatisted on ike chair). 
 
 My sakes, I 'm most dead ! Why, Praxinoa, there. 
 It 's a wonder I 've reached you alive, I declare ! 
 Such a crowd in those streets, such a myriad of 
 
 folks ! 
 Soldiers marching and riding, top-boots and red 
 
 cloaks ! 
 
 And the journey here, perfectly endless ! Dear me, 
 
 Why did n't you live further off, Mrs. P. ? 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 I tell you, it 's just what that lunatic meant ! 
 
 We must n't be neighbors — of course not — so he 
 
 went 
 To the eends of creation, and hired this hole ! 
 Just to spite me ! I know him — draf his stingy 
 
 old soul ! 
 
 GoRGO. 
 
 Doiit speak of your consort, my dear, in that style ! 
 And your own little boy in the room all the while. 
 
Paraphrases. 27 
 
 Only see how he stares, at such words from his 
 
 ma ! 
 No, no, Zopery darling, she don't mean your pa. 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 The brat does understand, as I live ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Nice papa ! 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 This con-sort, as you call it, a few days ago 
 
 (When we say t'other day, that means ahvays, you 
 
 know) 
 Went to buy lily-white, for my personal use, 
 And came back here with whitewash, the great, 
 
 silly goose ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Mine 's precisely the same, death on dollars and 
 
 cents ! 
 Sure to make extra work, at whatever expense : 
 Bought the scrapings of somebody's ragbag for 
 
 yarn 
 
 Only yesterday — seven shillings, and not worth 
 one darn ! — 
 
28 Paraphrases. 
 
 But come now, Praxinoa, put on your best things 
 
 And get ready ; I want you to go to the king's 
 
 And see the Adonis. They have it this year 
 
 In Ptolemy's own palace ; indeed, as I hear, 
 
 Our good queen is preparing a perfect gem of a 
 
 show ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 O, everything 's grand in grand houses, I know ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Yes, but then, you '11 have something to tell of, if 
 
 you go, — 
 What you saw there — to them that did n't see it : 
 
 come, come, 
 It 's time, and more too ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 Lord, if I was like some ! 
 No work, and six holidays out o' the seven ! 
 Pick my sewin' up, Eunoa. Merciful heaven ! 
 Stick it right in my way again, lazybones, do ! 
 Cats can snooze, but they can't hold a candle to 
 you ! 
 
Paraphrases. 29 
 
 Stir your stumps! Water first here — warn't it 
 water I said ? 
 
 And she had to bring soap ! Well — there, yes, 
 pour ahead — 
 
 Not quite so much neither, slobberhead, if you 
 pFease ! 
 
 Who asked you, young puppy, to douse my che- 
 mise ? 
 
 There now, stop ; I 'm as clean as kind Heaven 
 thought best. 
 
 Fly round there : fetch the key of the big camphor 
 chest. — 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Why Praxy, that dress ! You look heavenly in it ! 
 Let me know what it cost, this identical minute ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 Don't mention it, now really I daresn't confess 
 (Howsumever I do set the world by the dress), 
 For, Gorgo, it just cost a ri-dic-ulous price ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Well / would n't care neither, it does set so nice ! 
 
30 Paraphrases. 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 Well, I reckon you 're pretty near right about that! 
 
 Come, Euny, my shawl — and take and tie on my 
 hat. 
 
 Jaunty, so ! — No siree, Bub, you ain't goin' too ! 
 
 Hoss bites ! Hobbledy-gobbledy, teeth like tomb- 
 stones ! Boo-hoo, 
 
 Bawl as much as you please, but it never will do 
 
 To have cripples ! — take him, Phrygia (we can't 
 wait any more), 
 
 Get his playthings ; call the dog in ; and bolt the 
 street-door. 
 
Paraphrases. 3 1 
 
 Scene II. — TJie Street and the Palace-entrance. 
 
 PR.4XINOA. 
 
 My stars, what a crowd ! Bless me, this is a sticker ! 
 Shall we ever sail through it ? Thick as ants, if 
 
 not thicker ! 
 Well there 's one thing : thank our Ptolemy, since 
 
 his good father died, 
 And became a bright angel, we can step outside 
 Of our houses without goin' into conniptions 
 At the very idee o' them bloody Egyptians ! 
 For first-class garrottin', in real handsome style. 
 Give me chaps as have trotted the bogs of the 
 
 Nile ! — 
 Sw-ee-test Gorgy ! what is to become of us ? See 
 Them cav'lry, right on to us ! Don't run over me, 
 My good sojer-boy ! Jiminy, how that red one did 
 
 rare 
 On his hind hoofs ! Did you ever ? He 's fierce 
 
 as a bear ! 
 (You bold hussy, Eun, don't you know how to 
 
 run ?) 
 
32 Paraphrases. 
 
 Now he '11 kill that man on him, just as sure as a 
 
 gun ! 
 That child did do a blessed good thing, when he 
 
 staid 
 Safe to home ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 There, Praxinoa, don't be afraid : 
 We 're behind 'em at last, and they 're on their 
 own ground. 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 Well, I feel that my forces are comin' around : 
 If there 's anything can cause my whole corpus to 
 
 quake, 
 It 's a boss, and that cold, clammy critter, a snake ! 
 Come along, there 's an ocean of folks in our wake ! 
 
 GoRGO (Jo an old ivonian i7ioving in the opposite direction'). 
 
 From the palace, eh, aunty } 
 
 Old Woman. 
 
 Yes, chillun, I be ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Is it easy to get in .' 
 
Paraplirases. 33 
 
 Old Woman. 
 Try it, sissy, and see ! 
 Troy was catched and walked into by never-say- 
 
 dyin' : 
 Lor, my handsome young gal, there ain't nothin' 
 like tryin' ! — 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Dear me, what a perfect old oracle she was : 
 Had to treat us, free gratis, to classical saws ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 These old women, I vum, it beats all, what they 
 
 do know : 
 Why, they 're posted on Jupiter's doin's with Juno ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 P-r-axy, look at those doors ! Here 's the biggest 
 
 crowd yet ! 
 
 We are in for it now, I 'm a thinking ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 You bet ! 
 
 Gorgo, give us your hand ; grip now ! Eunoa, you 
 
 Take Eutychy's, don't drop it, you 're undone if 
 
 you do ! 
 
34 Paraphrases. 
 
 Now let 's go in ; all together ! Stick to us like 
 a flea, 
 
 Euny ; grit your teeth good ! Here we go ! — 
 
 me-r-cy me ! 
 There 's my summer silk, Gorgo, gone up ! What 
 
 vexation, 
 Rent like that ! For God's sake, 
 
 (^to First Spectator, close behind her') 
 
 as you hope for salvation. 
 Mister, see to my shawl ! 
 
 First Spectator. 
 
 Ma'am, in my situation 
 Less is seen than is felt ; still I '11 see — as I am! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 Well, my soul — and my body — this is a sweet 
 
 jam! 
 I 've been took in tight places afore, but I vow 
 If I knowed just what pigs were at pushin' till now! 
 
 First Spectator {assisting to extricate the two ladies') . 
 
 Cheer up, my good woman, we are all high and 
 dry. 
 
Paraphrases. 35 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 And may you, good sir, find yourself noc dry, but 
 
 high ! 
 For a year and six months, for escortin' us by. — 
 Gorgo, that 's what I call a young man of some 
 
 breedin'. — 
 Aiiit they givin' our Eun there a healthy old 
 
 squeezin' ! 
 Bust through there, poor sinner — now ! — good on 
 
 your head ! 
 All aboard, every woman 's inside ! — as he said. 
 When he locked up, and raised his hymeneal shout, 
 With him on the inside and her on the out. 
 
36 Pm'aphrases. 
 
 Scene III. — The Interior of the Palace. 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 My goodness, quick, Praxiny, do come this way ! 
 Take a look at these tapestry pictures, I say, 
 Before anything ! I never, what sweet pretty 
 
 things ! 
 You '11 declare they set fairies a weaving for kings. 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 Saints alive ! where on airth now, I just zvoiild like 
 to know, 
 
 Did they scare up the artists that drawed for this 
 show .'' 
 
 Now just look at them figgers ! — ain't they power- 
 ful correct .-* 
 
 How is that, eh, for nateral, chromatic effect .'' 
 
 They're actooally livin', they ain't wove — not in 
 the least ! 
 
 There, I always said man was a nice, clever beast ! — 
 
 And if there ain't he himself, Wenus's handsome 
 young lover, 
 
ParapJirases. 37; 
 
 On a silver-legged sofy, with dark purple cover ! 
 La suz ! ain't his visage just a spectacle to gaze on ? 
 Why, them whiskers, they 'd inflame the tempera- 
 ment of an Amazon ! 
 / don't blame her for feelin' lonesome, without her 
 
 Adonis, 
 When he 's trav'lled back to Hell behind Pluto's 
 
 black ponies ! 
 
 Second Spectator {iit a little distance, in the crowd'). 
 Travel back there yourselves, you infernal old 
 
 cronies ! 
 Stop your quacking ! — They '11 have the house 
 
 down, with the twang 
 
 Of their broad Doric brogue, and their outlandish 
 
 slang ! 
 
 Praxinoa. 
 
 I\Iy, my! who 's the feller? — 
 
 {spying him) sonuy, whcrc did j/oii grow? 
 It 's a lot oi yoiii' biz, v/hether we quack or crow ! 
 Just command your own lackies ! Ain't you nabbed 
 the wrong g-oose, 
 
38 Pai'apJirases. 
 
 When you order round ladies from great Syracuse ? 
 And I '11 tell you somethin' else, if your noddle 's 
 
 in doubt : 
 Warn't it Corinth, where our forefathers used to 
 
 hang out ? 
 That was Bellerophon's place, him as once druv 
 
 Pegasus ! 
 Slancrf we sling the strai^-ht ling-o o' the Pelo- 
 
 ponnasus 
 
 Can't a Dorian lady, without bein' sot on. 
 
 Wag her own mother's tongue ? He ain't born 
 
 yet, nor thought on — 
 Lord bless us! — that 's a goin' to set up for our 
 
 boss ! 
 Well I guess not! Come, I wouldn't — look at 
 
 here now, old boss — 
 Be a countin' o' my chickens — that is, if I was 
 
 you — 
 Till the dear little critters begin to peck through ! 
 
 GORGO. 
 
 Hush, Praxy, be quiet ! They've lifted the curtain : 
 
Paraphrases. 39 
 
 We 're to have a sweet song from that lady, for 
 
 certain, 
 About poor, dear Adonis. It 's the same prima 
 
 donna 
 That had the bouquets fairly showered upon her 
 Last year. How I wish I 'd a brought one to 
 
 chuck her ! 
 Sh-h ! — don't you perceive she 's preparing to 
 
 pucker ? 
 
 
/to ParaphTtises. 
 
 POLYPHEMUS TO GALATEA. 
 
 {See the eleventh idyll of Theocritus.) 
 
 For love no medicine exists, according to my 
 
 notion, 
 Friend Nicias, — be it in the shape of plaster, pill, 
 
 or potion, — 
 Except the Muses ! That 's a drug with no wry 
 
 face behind it, 
 And brings immediate relief : the trouble is — to 
 
 find it! 
 I 'm stating patent facts, methinks, to one in your 
 
 position, 
 A poet favored of the Nine, as well as a physician. 
 No other remedy, at least, — to take a case be- 
 tween us — 
 Would help my rustic countryman, the youthful 
 
 Polyphemus, 
 In the old time, when he was dead in love with 
 
 Galatea, 
 
P» raph rases. 4 1 
 
 Who used to swim Sicilian seas — and Cyclops 
 
 used to see her ! 
 He sent no roses, apples, locks of hair to prove 
 
 his passion, 
 But made a business of the thing, in downright 
 
 crazy fashion. 
 His flocks would turn untended home to fold from 
 
 flowery pasture, 
 While at the wet and weedy shore, from morn till 
 
 night, their master — 
 One more of Venus' victims {yoii know how she 
 
 likes to use 'em), — 
 Would pine away, and sing away — the Nereid of 
 
 his bosom. 
 He found the physic, I repeat, and, perched above 
 
 the ocean 
 On a high rock, did thus outpour the flood of his 
 
 emotion. 
 
 "O Galatea, glorious girl, don't put your feller off! 
 (Cream-cheese, my gracious ! ain't more white ; no 
 lamb ain't half so soft !) 
 
42 Pai'aphrcbses. 
 
 Don't be a skittish calf, don't be a grape with 
 
 puckery sap ! 
 Comin' that game o' comin' out just when I take 
 
 a nap, 
 And when I wake — there, cuss my luck ! — dive 
 
 in again kerslap ! 
 You run like any sheep as spies a gray wolf 
 
 glarin' at her : 
 But as for me, my girl, look here, I '11 tell you 
 
 what 's the matter ! 
 I know the day when I got smashed : that 's when 
 
 you went for posies, 
 And my old mother went along — and me, to steer 
 
 your noses. 
 I had the first squint at you then, and since I first 
 
 knocked under. 
 There ain't no peace for Polypheme — but you 
 
 don't care, by thunder ! 
 I guess I see what for you run : yes, yes ! I 
 
 should n't wonder 
 If this 'ere one long shaggy eyebrow made you 
 
 kind o' skeery. 
 
Paraphrases. 43 
 
 Spannin' my mug from ear to ear ; and this one 
 
 ogler, deary ! 
 And then the nose sets on the Hp a trifle flat, to 
 
 pass : — 
 But what 's that, when a feller drives a thousand 
 
 sheep to grass, 
 And milks no end o' goats and ewes, and drinks 
 
 the strippin's straight. 
 With cheeses, the whole blessed year, piled round 
 
 him by the crate ! 
 As to performin' on the flute — if music 's to your 
 
 likin' — 
 There ain't a Cyclops' mother's son can tune her 
 
 up as I can : 
 Tootlin' at every hour o' the night, in every sort o' 
 
 weather, 
 All about you, my pretty pippin-sweet, and me 
 
 together ! 
 And ain't I a raisin' eleven little fawns I catched 
 
 up where my place is. 
 To 'muse you when I ain't to home? — they 've all 
 got spotted faces — 
 
44 Paraphrases. 
 
 Four bnily baby-bruins too ! Come up and see 'em 
 
 play, sis ! 
 Come up, and scrape a nice soft nest right on my 
 
 cabin-floor. 
 And let old brindled Ocean bust his gullet at the 
 
 shore ! 
 What kind of a stall is that o' hisn, to 'commodate 
 
 a lady ? 
 Come up to mine, and cultivate a taste for some- 
 thin' shady ! 
 There 's laurels there, and cypresses as lith and 
 
 slick as you be ! 
 And creepin' ivy, and vines (them grapes shine 
 
 up to any ruby !) 
 And zvatcr? — when your whistle wants a wettin' 
 
 in the future. 
 Old bristly Etna's snowy knob slings down the 
 
 stuff to suit you ! — 
 That 's all very fine, I hear you say — if / warn't 
 
 quite so hairy ! 
 Lord bless you ! don't I mean to take a singein' 
 
 when I marry ? 
 
Paraphrases . 45 
 
 The wood 's all cut and dried, and where 's the 
 
 girl to touch her off quick ? 
 I 'd let you burn my liver out, or this one precious 
 
 optic ! 
 Where 'd I be then? — O, hang it all, why warn't 
 
 I born a whale ? 
 With two old paddle-wheels o' fins and seven-hoss- 
 
 power tail ? 
 I 'd make one scoot down there, and kiss that hand 
 
 o' yourn — that is, 
 If you won't let me on your mouth, — and fetch 
 
 white crocuses. 
 Or else a poppy-blow with soft red petals to her 
 
 phiz. 
 One on 'em blossoms when it 's cold, t'other in 
 
 the tepid season. 
 So I could n't bring 'em both to once, you see, — 
 
 it don't stand to reason. 
 I '11 learn to swim, you bet I will ! my duck, — in 
 
 darn short order. 
 When the next ship sails by as has a swim-profes- 
 sor aboard her. 
 
46 ParapJirases. 
 
 Perhaps then I 'd find out what 't is you find so 
 
 mighty nice 
 In that brine-tub ! Now, Gaily, take a piece o' 
 
 good advice : 
 Come out ! and when you 've come, forget — like 
 
 me, a sittin' now 
 On this 'ere rock — to go back home : there ain't 
 
 no tellin' how 
 I wish you wanted to live with me, and feed and 
 
 milk my critters ; 
 And help me change my milk to cheese, a droppin' 
 
 in the bitters ! 
 That 's just what we 'd be a doin' to-day, if 't warn't 
 
 for that old sinner, 
 My mother! — seen me all this time a growin' 
 
 thinner and thinner. 
 And ain't said one good word yet for me to you ! 
 
 O, bosh, I know her ! 
 I '11 punch her head, I '11 pound her toes, I swear 
 
 I '11 go clean through her ! 
 If she don't know what 't is to feel this way, by 
 
 dam I '11 show her ! — 
 
Paraphrases. 47 
 
 Ah, Cyclops, Cyclops ! ain't you nigh the point 
 
 o' sloppin' over ? 
 If you was to home a joilin' cheese, or rakin' up 
 
 the clover 
 To give them lambs, perhaps you 'd be behavin' 
 
 as you 'd ought to : 
 One nanny-goat in hand is worth two dozen in 
 
 the water ! 
 Just give those damsels on dry land a chance ; 
 
 it 's my idea 
 You '11 find yourself another girl as neat as 
 
 Galatea. 
 They all giggle* if one says ' Kiss me, Clops,' and 
 
 I say 'Wait and we '11 a — ' 
 Hi hi! it 's clear, on terra firm I 'm just a roarin' 
 
 peeler ! " 
 
 Thus Cyclops cossetted his love Pierian style ; 
 and these 
 
 Effusions worked the cure which can't be pur- 
 chased of M. D 's. • 
 
HYLETHEN 
 
2(itf ben SBcvgcn ift 5-rcil)cit! Scr .<oaud) brv ©viifte 
 
 totcigt uid)t I)inauf in bic vcineu i'iiftc ; 
 
 2)ic iJBclt ift noUfommcii iibcrntl, 
 
 SCo bcv ilicujd) iiidjt Ijiniommt mit jdncv Oual. 
 
 Schiller. 
 
HYLETHEN. 
 
 "^T /"HERE the torrent swiftest flows, 
 
 Where dark rocks the stream oppose, 
 Where the white foam sails away, 
 There we hold the trout at play. 
 
 Where above the crystal tide 
 Frowns the rugged mountain-side, 
 Echoing hoarsely to the call 
 Of each impetuous waterfall, 
 That leaps from terrace mossy-brown, 
 To pebbly basin plunging down. 
 
5 2 HylctJieii. 
 
 Where the green and dizzy wave, 
 Reeling through a granite cave, 
 Laps the stony barriers round 
 With a faintly gurgling sound, 
 Till it gathers strength, and shoots 
 Out again beneath the roots 
 Of a sturdy hemlock-stem. 
 Giant warder of the glen. 
 With head bathed in the morning beam. 
 And dewy foothold by the stream. 
 
 Where through many a cloven ledge, 
 That yawns apart with piny edge. 
 Faster pours the torrent yet, 
 Or where its scattered waters wet 
 Broad rocky tables of the hill, 
 Spread to the sun uprising still. 
 Or where it breaks in twain, and glides 
 
Hy let hen. 53 
 
 Down a steep islet's fretted sides, 
 
 Hardly-severed streamlet-pair — 
 
 Swift to rush together, where 
 
 On some gaunt and hoary birch 
 
 The staid kingfisher, from his perch, 
 
 Watches with a sidelong look 
 ' The bubbling mazes of the brook. 
 
 Before it softly falls to rest. 
 
 Wooed to stillness on the breast 
 
 Of a forest-sheltered pool, 
 
 Whose darkened grotto, by the cool 
 
 Leafy border shut to view, 
 
 Lets but one ardent sunbeam through — 
 
 One amber shaft from brink to brink 
 
 Where the purling eddies sink, 
 
 And a rainbow in the spray 
 
 Where we hold the trout at play. 
 
54 Hylethen. 
 
 Rumbling chasm, ringing fall, 
 Shadowy marge, and bowlders white ; 
 
 All in sympathy with all. 
 Harmony of dark and bright ; 
 
 Ever changeful monotone. 
 Earth's divine unconscious hymn, 
 
 Blending with the lull of noon — 
 Filled are the senses to the brim, 
 
 The soul immersed in Nature's own 
 As the pale night-born dewdrops fly 
 The climbing archer of the sky. 
 
 Is each untimely passion flown ; 
 Nor turns the inward eye to see 
 That which might, yet may not be. 
 
Hylcthen. 5 5 
 
 Where, from its midway resting-place 
 Freshly bounding to the chase, 
 With broader deeper stronger flow 
 Sweeps the silvery flood below 
 Gray turrets of the black ravine, 
 Around moist shores of reedy green. 
 That hem the violet-sprinkled glades 
 Where sunshine and the vying shades 
 Of mingled oak and maple play. 
 Winding its intercepted way. 
 Laving the worn and riven base 
 Of walls with lichen-wrinkled face, 
 Which lowly creepers close entwine, 
 'Mid tufts of flaming columbine, 
 Or welling tremulously out. 
 By jealous foliage clasped about. 
 Where, up the widening vista, gleams 
 The smile of evening's tempered beams, 
 
56 HylctJicii. 
 
 And lures the current on to gain 
 The goal of valley and of plain, 
 Far from its limpid mountain source, 
 Steering a vague impatient course 
 By crimson belt and gilded crest 
 Of vapory legions in the west. 
 
 Where the ripples dimly fade. 
 Some sudden-springing fish has made, 
 As under bank and bushy mound 
 The sunset-shadow closes round, 
 And damps the glow and bursts the spell. 
 That lingered where the last tinge fell 
 Across the willow-guarded bed 
 Of quiet waters, blindly led 
 To find a pathless destiny. 
 Merged in river and in sea. 
 
Hylethen. 57 
 
 Hark ! — where chants beyond the rill 
 One weirdly-distant whippoorwill, 
 Plaintive harbinger of night — 
 Quenched is a day's unsullied light, 
 Too rueless, when it dawn again, 
 To dawn upon the haunts of men. 
 
 Where the torrent swiftest flows, 
 Where dark rocks the stream oppose, 
 Where the white foam sails away, 
 There we hold the trout at play. 
 
SONGS OF EROS 
 
Brj^iOvfxov €p(OTo^ av9o<;. 
 
 Aeschylus. 
 
SONGS OF EROS. 
 
 'T^AKE the Spring; from out the year, 
 
 Take from Spring her flowers ; 
 Let no smiling bud appear, 
 
 Quench the glowing hours : 
 Then take Eros, and his praise, 
 Eros, Eros from my days ! 
 
 From the red rose take her thorn, 
 Where were thorn unfitter ? — 
 
 Let no blossom sweet be born 
 With a tinge of bitter : 
 
 Then take Eros, and his smart, 
 
 Eros, Eros from my heart ! 
 
62 So/i^s. 
 
 Turn the home-bound carrier-clove, 
 Like an arrow speeding : 
 
 Will she stay her flight of love, 
 Frost or tempest heeding ? — 
 
 Eros hies where he is bent, 
 
 May, or may he ne'er repent ! 
 
 Child of the skies. 
 Maid, — as thou art ; 
 Star of mine eyes. 
 Heaven of my heart 
 
 Draw thou but near, 
 All, all is light ! 
 But disappear, 
 Lo, it is night ! 
 
So7igs: 63 
 
 Day binds a gem 
 Over Night's brow 
 (My diadem, 
 Beauty, art thou) ; 
 
 And, when he hides 
 Love's sign away, 
 Twilight abides. 
 Saved of its ray. 
 
 So come thy smile 
 Oft, as my dawn ; 
 Light me the while 
 Thoughts of thee gone ! 
 
 Star of mine eyes, 
 Heaven of my heart : 
 Fair as the skies, 
 Maiden, thou art. 
 
64 Sojigs. 
 
 Were there in the whole firmament a star, 
 Outshone its fellows' dimmer, feebler light, 
 
 That none should earlier usher from afar 
 
 The first pale glimmer from the eye of night ; 
 
 Were there a wave, of all that heave and sink 
 Restless and ceaseless on the ocean-plain, 
 
 Foremost to clamber up the craggy brink, 
 Dashed in ten thousand drops of briny rain ; 
 
 A zephyr were there, of the jocund sprites 
 That flee and follow through the paths of air, 
 
 Fleetest and maddest in its giddy flights 
 From barren peak anon to valley fair : 
 
S07lgS. 65 
 
 That zephyr were my love, O love, for thee ! 
 
 Thou the fair goal my light breath should 
 pursue ! 
 Not all the winds of heaven might vie with me. 
 
 To catch thy trace, to follow, and to woo ! 
 
 I were that wave, and thou the wished-for shore, 
 Whither in toilsome, passionate unrest 
 
 This heart should struggle, till its throbbings 
 bore 
 A tearful, joyful wanderer to thy breast ! 
 
 And fain would I, beloved, be that star ; 
 
 Even unto thee as Hesperus to Night : 
 First by thy gray eye welcomed from afar, 
 
 And latest lingering in its winsome liiiht. 
 
66 ' Sojigs 
 
 Have, then, fate and time, fulfilling their un- 
 changeable decree, 
 
 Brought the dreaded hour that calls me, thus to 
 part, dear girl, from thee ? 
 
 Life, before our pathways blended, was a journey 
 touched with gloom : 
 
 Now, when thine I share no longer, mine is darker 
 than the tomb. 
 
 " Friend, if on thy path my presence shed indeed 
 a cheering ray. 
 
 Then esteem as gain the brighter, kindlier mo- 
 ments of the way : 
 
 Does the traveller, turning quickened from the 
 fount whose wavelets pour 
 
 Crystal coolness by the wayside, leave it sadder 
 than before ? " 
 
Songs. Gy 
 
 Ay, — when fates relentless bid him turn despair- 
 ingly his gaze 
 
 From the only green oasis in the desert of his 
 days ! 
 
 Was there aught of hope to mingle with the tears 
 that dimmed the eyes 
 
 Of our common parents, sadly wandering down 
 from Paradise ? 
 
 "Gentle Hope has. set an angel in the gateway of 
 
 despair, 
 With uplifted finger warning all whose steps would 
 
 enter there : 
 ' Fly,' he said (myself have heard him) ; ' fly, nor 
 
 cross to these demesnes ; 
 Fly through cloud and sea and forest ; fly beyond 
 
 the gates of dreams L' " 
 
 Let me pass their portals, widest flung to those 
 
 whose lot is mine ; 
 Leading to the weird Lethean realm of phantasy 
 
 divine ! 
 
68 Sou^s. 
 
 Let my sleep become my waking, and my waking 
 be my sleep ; 
 
 And //ijy dream its snowy pinion round my slum- 
 bering vigil sweep ! 
 
 " Ay, — and when thou find'st the palace, whence 
 
 thy better genius calls ; 
 And hast heard the mystic voices echoing softly 
 
 through its halls : 
 Send, O send (some heart may crave it), to the 
 
 question send reply. 
 
 Whether dying be not living, and to live be not 
 
 to die !" • 
 
 (DueL) 
 
 If of life in death such portion dwells as dwells of 
 
 death in life. 
 Then are such as we immortal : mortal only prove 
 
 the strife 
 'Twixt what might be and what must be ; must 
 
 but once the funeral-knell 
 Sigh, as sigh the broken-hearted — O farewell, 
 
 sweet love, farcv/ell ! 
 
Songs. 69 
 
 His step is gone, his voice is still, his eye seeks 
 
 mine no more ; 
 And yet I seem to see and hear and read them, as 
 
 before : 
 An echo and a shadow now, where glowed and 
 
 sparkled then 
 A soul whose beams will never warm this frozen 
 
 heart again. 
 
 Thou happy streamlet, rippling by, where now I 
 
 stand alone : 
 I saw thee with an icy pall across thy bosom 
 
 thrown : 
 No hope was there of milder skies, no dream of 
 
 any Spring ; 
 And still I heard the fond refrain of vanished 
 
 Summer ring. 
 
7° Sojigs. 
 
 What Earth her lovely children lends, some god 
 
 has granted me : 
 Bound by cold memory's magic song, my heart, 
 
 O burst not free ; 
 Soothe at the sources of the past the pangs of 
 
 present woe ; 
 
 O tears of infinite regret, cease not, cease not to 
 flow ] 
 
Songs. 71 
 
 Columbine, columbine, 
 From your fragile stem depending, 
 Lightly o'er the torrent bending 
 With quintuple ruby^-wrought tiara 
 And golden tassel fine : 
 How you tempt the eye to linger, 
 
 And the venturous foot to climb, 
 Tempt the quick-despoiling finger, 
 Columbine ! 
 
 Columbine, columbine. 
 You shall be spared — for a season ; 
 In my heart I know the reason 
 Why I deem you, yes, by far too rare a 
 Prize for hand of mine : 
 Tempt a fond dark eye to linger, 
 
 And a gentler foot to climb. 
 Fall before the loveliest finger, 
 Columbine ! 
 
72 Sou^s. 
 
 As that smile, that glance, that fervor, 
 As this passion came unsought, 
 
 So I claim, now all is over. 
 That thou too forget me not. 
 
 Then, when beams thy bridal morning. 
 Beams for him who wins the lot, — 
 
 From that wreath (if this my warning 
 Bid thee still forget me not) 
 
 By fair mates, with loving visit. 
 To thy trembling fingers brought, 
 
 Save for me, — /le cannot miss it, — 
 Save a dear forget-me-not. 
 
 It shall save one blooming hour 
 
 From a withering age of thought — 
 
 O my lost, my broken flower, 
 O forget, forget me not ! 
 
Songs. 73 
 
 Methought I stood by a mountain grand, 
 And the sea crept up to its flinty strand. 
 
 I heard no sound in that region lone 
 But the waves, and their weary monotone. 
 
 The mountain moved, as it were in sleep, 
 And stirred the waters of all the deep, 
 
 And a surge swang mightily to and fro. 
 And now rose louder, and now sank low. 
 
 Then floated the ringing tones between 
 Of a lyre, swept by a hand unseen. 
 
 Sweet and solemn they seemed to glide 
 From caverns dark in the mountain-side ; 
 
 Till the billow ceased to beat at the shore, 
 And wearily murmured the waves as before. 
 
 But long in my ear an echo rang 
 
 Of the throe, and the surge, and the lyre's clang. 
 
74 Songs. 
 
 I LOOKED on a brimming fountain, 
 With its waters upwelling for aye, 
 
 They were black in the shadow of even. 
 They were bright in the lustre of day. 
 
 Not a flower by its margent mirrored, 
 
 But with fairest petal smiled ; 
 Not a bird 'neath the verdure, but warbled 
 
 His fondest carol wild. 
 
 Each wind to his silent hollow 
 
 Had sped, with a murmur low ; 
 While the wrinkled hill-tops glimmered 
 
 In the sleepy noonday glow. 
 
 A maiden knelt with a ewer, 
 
 From the limpid source to fill, 
 And its depths they were strong to woo her. 
 
 That she gazed with a transport still. 
 
From the thirsty forest-mazes 
 
 A chase-worn huntsman came, 
 But drank not — for the spell beguiled him 
 
 Of a rapture he could not name. 
 
 And they seemed to wait, and to wonder 
 If their vision should vanish away, 
 
 As I looked on the brimming fountain, 
 With its waters upwelling for aye. 
 
SYMPOSIUM METRICUM 
 
ev fivprov kXuBI to ^i(f)0(; (f)op7Jaco. 
 
 v' 
 
SYMPOSIUM METRICUM. 
 
 T O, the lot and number mark 
 
 Me to be symposiarch ! 
 Of this banquet I am lord ; 
 Hear me, and obey my word. 
 
 Hear me, ye whose eye-light glows 
 Under wreaths of bay and rose ; 
 Lips that curl at sound of mine, 
 Moistened by the god-sent vine : 
 
 Clearest, sweetest chants the muse 
 When the arm of Bacchus wooes. 
 With ambrosial fingers pressed 
 To a yet diviner breast. 
 
8o Syniposiiivi. 
 
 Then the trembhng passions start 
 From the barriers of the heart ; 
 Then the thought leaps to the tongue, 
 And the hope dies not unsung. 
 
 Genius then flings out a beam 
 From his bright, ecstatic dream ; 
 He whom fates have burthened low 
 Drops one fragment of his woe. 
 
 So be this Euterpe's hour ; 
 Own ye, friend to friend, her power : 
 Till I last take up the strain, 
 And we crown our cups again. 
 
 9 
 
 Stiller, stiller — palm to brow ! 
 As I let the myrtle-bough 
 Cross from hand to hand along. 
 And from voice to voice the sons;. 
 
Syinposiiim. 
 
 With the bough methought a spark 
 Thrilled me, O symposiarch, 
 Of the soul that flashes yet 
 In the measures thou hast set. 
 
 Well the god deserves of youth, 
 If he drives the blade of truth 
 Through the sordid chains that bind 
 Or the body, or the mind! 
 
 Freedom be to me the breath 
 Of the life I owe to death : 
 Freedom, won with groan and cheer 
 In the tempest of the spear ! 
 
 Freedom's pledge of equal aims. 
 Equal hopes, and equal names ; 
 Freedom's deep and deathless tone. 
 Echoing round each despot's throne. 
 
82 Symposuim. 
 
 Freedom, mixed with every thought 
 Art or phantasy has wrought 
 Into shapes, which gave to see 
 Signs of greater shapes to be. 
 
 Freedom, marching in the van 
 Of the proud advance of man, ' 
 All that peace and wisdom yield 
 Mirrored in her burnished shield. 
 
 Claims a free hand thus the right, 
 Leafy symbol of delight. 
 Thee thy tuneful way to send 
 At the hilted weapon's end ! 
 
Symposium. Z'^^ 
 
 Is there aught in gHttering steel, 
 Moves an awe-struck heart to feel 
 What the heights, the depths, attained 
 By the will of man unchained ? 
 
 His all-reaching ken profound 
 Air nor sea avails to bound ; 
 Cave nor wilderness, to rest 
 Trackless of his cunning quest. 
 
 From the wave he lifts the pearl. 
 O'er whose hinged casket whirl 
 Whelming eddies, through the dim 
 Grottoes of the trident-king. 
 
 Wide on billowy paths and far 
 Flies for him the sail-winged car, 
 Points him many a nameless strand. 
 Sunset-realms of wonder-land. 
 
84 Symposium. 
 
 Earth her buried treasure-room 
 Opes to him, and, from the gloom 
 Of its niches dank and cold, 
 Beams the tempting bfiish of gold. 
 
 In her vaults of marble-vein 
 Delves his hand, to rear the fane : — 
 Saffron gleams of Eos lave 
 Peristyle and architrave ! • 
 
 Now to evil, now to good 
 Tends the soul, with fitful mood : 
 Here, to dust low-fluttering — there, 
 To fair ether soaring fair ! 
 
Syniposiuvi. 85 
 
 Happy they, whose acts fulfil 
 Not some earthly mistress' will : 
 Who but Wisdom's bidding hear, 
 Her immortal anger fear ! 
 
 Them no longer, passion-racked, 
 Fickle-witted whims distract : 
 Wisdom's nomes harmonious all 
 From her silver plectrum fall. 
 
 Me the piny wreath lures not, 
 Over Isthmian courses sought ; 
 Not the loud Olympian meed. 
 Earned by fiery-footed steed. 
 
 Not the wrestler's firm renown 
 Sways my fealty to a crown 
 Wrung from pleasure, pride, and pelf 
 In the struggle of myself. 
 
86 Syniposiinn. 
 
 Stand not I to argue it 
 Where the gaping many sit : 
 Not with smooth, obsequious plea 
 Wise to seem, but wise to be ! 
 
 What the vain mob vaunts to know, 
 Wisdom proves with question slow ; 
 While the quick-tongued rhetor prates, 
 Wisdom ponders, wisdom waits. 
 
 While their factions rub and fret. 
 While their empires rise and set, 
 Wisdom fares her patient way 
 With the torch that shines for aye. 
 
Symposium. 8^ 
 
 Best beyond a holier sphere 
 Loves my charmed eye to peer 
 Of the flight from age to age : 
 Rose the minstrel ere the sage. 
 
 Rose with sounding harp of praise, 
 Strung to themes of ancient days, 
 Deeds heroic to rehearse, 
 Rolled in torrent-mocking verse. 
 
 Rose with lute, and faltering line 
 Of a threnody divine, 
 When new anguish, welling fast, 
 Dimmed his vision of the past. 
 
 Rose with staid, majestic mien 
 On the throng-beholden scene. 
 There to teach what issues bide 
 Blood-besprinkled ways of pride. 
 
Symposiuin. 
 
 All that drips from calm or care 
 Poesy in chalice rare 
 Pours, and blends the world of light 
 With the mystic world of night. 
 
 Many a tranquil chord has rung 
 Through the dirge of Ilium ; 
 Many a paean, strong to save, 
 Echoed from Cocytus' wave. 
 
 When Death consecrates his own. 
 Poesy, with votive stone, 
 Still her gentle tribute brings, 
 Still the muse of memory sings. 
 
Symposium. °9 
 
 Comes to me the myrtle ? Now 
 Softly be enshrined the bough! 
 Now love's hymn let me attune, 
 Whom love's emblem brmgs the boon. 
 
 Sweet may ring your gleeful rhyme, 
 High the chant of freedom chime. 
 But the songs that pierce the graves 
 Are the songs of Eros' slaves. 
 
 In their words a crisping flame, 
 In their tones a winsome shame, 
 In their cadences a sigh 
 As of leaves, whose fall is nigh. 
 
 Dire, invincible the works 
 Of the potent god who lurks 
 By rude fold, or gilded hall, 
 On his hapless prey to fall! 
 
90 Symposium. 
 
 Sudden-vengeful ire who wreaks 
 From his lair of virgin cheeks, 
 Haunts the curve of comely limbs, 
 'Neath the misty eyelid swims. 
 
 Swift, his supplicants to spurn 
 Whilst at altar's marge they burn 
 Incense of regretful years, 
 With a litany of tears. 
 
 Eros' branch has done the round : 
 See! — to Eros' statue bound, 
 Droops its green — the while we hark 
 To thy lay, symposiarch. 
 
 ^ 
 
Symposium. 9^ 
 
 Hellas, Hellas, lo, I bring 
 Thee the lay I rise to sing! 
 Gods and heroes, lend my voice 
 Numbers worthy of the choice ! 
 
 Hellas, first in name of thee 
 Brave men swore they would be free : 
 First, then, in thy cup be poured 
 Crimson glories of the sivord. 
 
 In thy praise resounded high 
 Music, born of sea and sky: 
 Wreathe I, so, this rim along 
 Flozvers of never-dying song. 
 
 Of the nations, Hellas, thine 
 Beauty chose, to hold her shrine : 
 Here in ruby waves I trace 
 Memories of the fairest face. 
 
92 Symposium. 
 
 Pledge me now the triple-crowned, 
 If of love ye know the sound, 
 If the trumpet, if the lyre 
 Sets the heart of youth on fire ! 
 
 Drink to Hellas, as she stands, 
 Hellas, Hellas, land of lands ; 
 Drink to art and eloquence. 
 All that speaks to mind or sense ; 
 
 Drink to words of law and right. 
 Drink to liberty and light. 
 Drink to beauty, drink to fame. 
 Drink to an immortal name ! 
 
)NGRESS 
 
 015 762 169 5