GopyiiglitN»„_iilZ__ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 
 
The Search of BeUsarius 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 A Byzantine Legend 
 
 By 
 
 Percy Stichiey Grant 
 
 New York 
 
 BRENTANOS 
 
 MCMVII 
 
i LIBRARY of CONaHESSj 
 Two Ctpies KecoivuG 
 
 DEC 19 1907 
 
 _ Ic f <f#'^S 
 
 fcLASsA XXC. Wo, 
 
 
 Copyright, 1907, by 
 PERCY STICKNEY GRANT 
 
 Arranged and Printed at 
 
 The Cheltenham Press 
 
 New York 
 
TO 
 
 THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER 
 
 STEPHEN MASON GRANT 
 
Endurance is the crowning quality, 
 And patience all the passion of great hearts. 
 
 Lowell. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PRELUDE 
 
 Behold that splendid city of the East, 
 The glory of the Emperor Constantine, 
 When Rome's long, civil leadership had ceased 
 And on her hills, the home of Caesar's line, 
 Mid mouldering palaces and gods supine. 
 Men meanly crept: when kings, in that soft nest 
 Upon the Bosphorus, O sad decline! 
 Obeyed like Persians, and like Persians dressed. 
 Had reigned two centuries; — 'twas then befell this 
 quest. 
 
 II 
 
 Fain would one linger in that pleasant spot. 
 
 Ere he embark on wanderings far and wide. 
 
 A city out of regal ruins got. 
 
 Where precious gems, to our poor kings denied. 
 
 With gold and silver in base labor vied. 
 
 O close my eyes to such magnificence! 
 
 Lest from my course I, loitering, turn aside. 
 
 And marvels mused upon, bewilder sense. 
 
 Her silver-filtered hymns and Eastern opulence. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Hail mighty monarch, sage Justinian, 
 
 Forever of blind lovers rightful king! 
 
 For deep you dived as fishers in Oman, 
 
 Who, dazed, to dazzling daylight pearl shells bring. 
 
 Of Theodora — Ah! I cannot sing. 
 
 The queen-enchantress of the East was she. 
 
 To whom all lands sent costly offering: 
 
 A heathen goddess, scorning Rome's decree, 
 
 Surviving Christian shock, still claiming fealty. 
 
 IV 
 
 Like Bacchus* Ariadne she used go. 
 Along Ionian cities and the South. 
 Intolerable joys could she bestow. 
 Leader of revels, while the frenzied youth 
 Crowded her progress. As for love, forsooth. 
 She gave none, but a madness could inspire. 
 Whose end was death, or bitter cure the truth. 
 At last her sated passions mounting higher. 
 World-rule from Rome's proud throne became her one 
 desire. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 Yet this love-witch her philters threw aside 
 
 Before his eyes that seemed her soul to see; 
 
 And Venus she no longer with prayers plied. 
 
 Fair Cyprian, inflamed with hate was she. 
 
 But, sinuous in her serpent subtlety 
 
 To harm the man of whom my verses tell. 
 
 By blandished falsehood and deft sophistry, 
 
 Justinian, docile in her amorous spell. 
 
 She led to crush his friend, his empire's citadel. 
 
 VI 
 
 !Aji equal rule the royal lovers held. 
 
 What is too rich or reverend for love's gift? 
 
 Wise Solomon the sacred cedars felled. 
 
 For altars whence his heathen wives could lift 
 
 Warm prayers to Astaroth. O impious rift! 
 
 Great Alexander, so well taught, could err; 
 
 Mark Antony flee battle coward-swift. 
 
 Yes, senators may frown, dames may demur; 
 
 But laws must bend and break when love is arbiter. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 Born like the Queen of shameless circus brood. 
 Child of an actress and a charioteer. 
 Was she who closest Theodora stood 
 In favor and in power, — and I, fear, 
 In imitated vice none came so near 
 As Antonina, Belisarius' wife. 
 I would philosophy could make it clear 
 Why men so great in peace and war's wan strife. 
 By helpmates such as these, were charmed and chained 
 for life. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART I 
 
 The Forum of New Rome — Justinian's seat? 
 
 His palace columns on the south arise; 
 
 Here church and Hippodrome and Senate meet; 
 
 Sophia's graceful domes cut the north skies. 
 
 Near shops for women, libraries for the wise; 
 
 Here lawyers watch and clients fret at court. 
 
 In sumptuous baths, 'neath Homer's sightless eyes 
 
 And marble gods and men, the people sport 
 
 And saints torment their flesh — at least so goes report. 
 
 II 
 
 Mobs multiply in sun and melt in showers. 
 To this bright square crowds jostled out of lanes 
 And slits of streets, dark at the mid-day hours. 
 Where, on the west, the Octagon contains 
 Eight porticoes and monkish learning reigns. 
 Now dirty packs of homespuns push to hear 
 A crimson rhetorician, who maintains 
 The populace must pay their enemies dear : — 
 That danger threatens Belisarius all fear. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Gay in its wrath is the great Agora, 
 The swarming square flashes in many dyes. 
 On brazen breasts the sun burns like a star. 
 A monk, with ribboned hair, in scarlet hies ; 
 His mincing step with women's fashion vies. 
 Gray-garbed philosophers, doctors in blue. 
 Are scattered right and left by bare-legged cries 
 That clear for some proud horseman passage through; 
 Church virgins and loose loves wear here the self -same 
 hue. 
 
 IV 
 
 Before the palace moves a restless crowd. 
 Alert in any turbulence to share: 
 Beneath Justinian's statue clamoring loud 
 For right and justice; filling the vast square 
 As far east as the Senate portals, where 
 Stand empty columns waiting, but in vain. 
 For heroes to be born and sculptured there; 
 While many voices in the crowd complain 
 Of royal insolence and senators' disdain. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 ** What senile whim is this ? What envious lip 
 
 Begot this lie of treason to the state? 
 
 What itching hands of secret foes would strip 
 
 Our general's wealth? What sullen, crafty hate 
 
 Would pluck his honors off? His wealth is great? 
 
 His private guard too large for public weal? 
 
 His purse has paid, when soldiers had to wait 
 
 For wages, earned in blood, that others steal. 
 
 His guard? — ^the sole defense to which we can appeal. 
 
 VI 
 
 ** A kitten-eyed, frank man, bearded for camp. 
 
 And combat, red from battle's manly heat; 
 
 As out of place among the courtier stamp. 
 
 As a lost butterfly in city street. 
 
 No talker, flatterer, loller at women's feet ; 
 
 Save for one woman bashful as a priest. 
 
 His only thought, how best our foes to meet; 
 
 Whose sword our realm and prestige have increased; 
 
 To guard what others ruled — ^there his ambition ceased. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 " I've seen an oak's young roots embrace a stone 
 
 And grow around it, as if by it fed ; 
 
 When, later, root and trunk were larger grown. 
 
 They still held fast the stone in its firm bed. 
 
 But when the tree reared high a glossy head, 
 
 A towering king, the forest's chief est pride, 
 
 I've passed and found the monarch lying dead. 
 
 The barren stone, the blight of which it died. 
 
 Had robbed it of its food and deep support denied.' 
 
 VIII 
 
 " The King builds churches when he should build forts ; 
 
 He mumbles creeds when he should face his foes; 
 
 He pores o'er books when he should lead cohorts. 
 
 And acts with vigor when he best repose. 
 
 His Queen he found, where good men hold the nose, — 
 
 His fondness dangerous as a bad king's crimes — 
 
 'Tis rare a king suits all men, I suppose. 
 
 To act one's nature and to match the times. 
 
 Is more than often happens, save in poet's rhymes.'* 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 " Our times will be remembered for our loss ; 
 Our thoughts no longer range in Plato's school; 
 War, riches, fears are our concern, — earth's dross — 
 Or life lives meekly under monkish rule. 
 Adventurous thought is clipped to please the fool. 
 When mind is shackled, feet are not long free. 
 The consulate is now a broken tool. 
 The Senate feeds on royal bribery; 
 
 While Goths and scheming monks hold West and East 
 in fee." 
 
 The Palace gates swing open, where, aloft, 
 
 To bless its splendors hangs the Nazarene. 
 
 Meekly He droops, as when His murderers scoffed; 
 
 But armored knights, upon His favor lean. 
 
 And emperors' eyes have dropped at this rood-screen. 
 
 To-day they pass and leave the Christ alone. 
 
 The gilt-bronze roof covers a motley scene; 
 
 A prison, barracks, banquet-hall, and throne: 
 
 The flatterer's laughing lie; the vrretch's dying moan. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XI 
 
 Marble and gold the throne of mighty Rome! 
 Carved lions alert, its arms, from out whose back 
 Spring twisted columns, corners for the dome 
 Which shades such multitudes of cares, — that rack 
 Of flesh and soul, target for foul attack, — 
 Justinian's throne and Theodora's throne: 
 Whose magic must create what all men lack; 
 Factions consolidate; affronts condone; 
 And build for coming ages while ephemerals groan. 
 
 XII 
 
 From porch to audience-room, the palace thronged 
 
 With men permitted that illustrious place. 
 
 To every nation that proud host belonged; 
 
 There Roman senators with Vandals pace, 
 
 Impatient to behold a friend's disgrace. 
 
 Around them, they forget, the storied wall. 
 
 Where bright mosaics hate dare not efface. 
 
 The wars of Belisarius recall : 
 
 His conquests and the Emperor's love speak there to all. 
 
 10 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 With accents firm but with a sleepless face, 
 
 Justinian bade them Belisarius bring; 
 
 Then, musing, wondered at the Empress' grace. 
 
 And touched her gold-veined throne. What ails the 
 
 king? 
 Why stares he so? Who is this entering? 
 'Tis Belisarius, as blind as stone. 
 The Emperor's eyes with tears were glistening. 
 But unobserved, all looks were fixed alone 
 On him the gleaming guards led slowly toward the 
 
 throne. 
 
 XIV 
 
 They left him at the dark steps of the throne, — 
 So near, the king recoiled, abashed and mute, — 
 Nor could he find stern words, or awful tone. 
 So false a charge at once to false words suit. 
 "Surely," he thought, "none can the spy dispute: 
 Yes, Antonina has confessed in tears 
 Her husband's guilt. Only his high repute 
 Concealed so long his treachery from my ears." 
 Then, at his side, the Queen's low, warning words he 
 hears. 
 
 11 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 Though blazing jewels her bright head-dress made. 
 Her eyes beneath flashed fire more than they. 
 The large gold meshes of her veil o'erlaid 
 Her radiant face, whose beauty's rich display 
 Empallored gold, like starlight rent by day. 
 Her bosom burned, but with a flame apart. 
 Like marble altars where poor pagans pray. 
 And light vain fires: for love, her potent art. 
 Could others melt and mould, but could not warm her 
 heart. 
 
 XVI 
 
 " Think how good fortune smiled upon his life, 
 
 Clad him with strength to conquer every foe. 
 
 Until his will with thy will is at strife. 
 
 Here he would sit and see you grovel low. 
 
 Some inj ured god, who thinks to cause us woe. 
 
 Has given him a son, noble and fair, 
 
 Upon whose head his power he can bestow. 
 
 No children's faces hang about our chair. 
 
 Will you permit his race our crowns to grasp and wear.^* 
 
 12 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVII 
 
 " My love for thee would save thee from thy love 
 
 For those unworthy of that golden dower. 
 
 Then listen^ O my Lord! Did I not prove 
 
 My firmer mind when all thy guards did cower? 
 
 Yes^ generals, too, before the bloody power 
 
 Those unchecked factions grasped, the Greens and Blues. 
 
 Death is the lot of men; to reign is our 
 
 Emprise. Would'st thou again thy sceptre lose.^ 
 
 The throne's the only sepulchre a king can choose. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 " A woman knows all friendships have their day. 
 Can men be friends for something else than use? 
 Your kingdom calmed, that hand must not obey 
 That calmed it ? No ! your sword, for foes unloose. 
 Must not strike back at you, or crops produce 
 Of new and nearer foes, — unless you planned 
 To give your friend your throne. The same excuse 
 Should, then, give him to me; — yes, as his hand 
 Falls short my body's service to your loved command. 
 
 18 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIX 
 
 ** To-day each gains, save one, his heart's desire. 
 You find full freedom from a treacherous friend. 
 Who, tired of serving you, must needs conspire 
 And work to wear the crown he should defend. 
 But his dark ways have found a darker end. 
 Lone Antonina gains young love. While I 
 Pluck out a constant pain, their son, and send 
 Him not to death, but to foul state well nigh 
 As dumb, whence dread can never raise its startling cry. 
 
 XX 
 
 Then fell the King's voice hollow as a bell 
 
 Heard off a hidden reef. " Thine ancient speech 
 
 And cunning counsels, now illumined, tell 
 
 A love long since estranged. You would impeach 
 
 My power; exalted high by me, would reach 
 
 To clutch my crown. A wrinkled sorceress 
 
 Lured you by dreams and magic to this breach 
 
 Of loyalty and friendship. Now confess, 
 
 O Belisarius, thy traitor wickedness." 
 
 14 
 
The Search of Belisarhis 
 
 XXI 
 
 But those who heard turned back in memory 
 To that great pageant, meed of victor's might — 
 So grand men flocked from distant lands to see — 
 When he disdained the golden car, his right. 
 And walked before his chosen horsemen bright. 
 Nor looked less tall than that earth-spurning band. 
 A tale for garrulous age was that rare sight ; 
 King, captives, treasures, stripped from Afric land. 
 Brightened his splendid train, acclaimed on every hand. 
 
 XXII 
 
 At last his calm lips opened and he spake. 
 But his voice thrilled them like the clash of swords. 
 ** My King, all's done. No more shall I awake 
 At dawn to know the light. The barbarous hordes 
 Will Belisarius fear no more. My lords 
 Can sleep now nights, nor vex their drowsy wives 
 With midnight tapers, or dream-murmured words. 
 The lights are out, — at night the thief contrives 
 Against the toil-heaped hoard, and fed by plunder 
 thrives. 
 
 15 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIII 
 
 " Were I a Frank, then should I stand or fall 
 
 By oath, by fire, or by my own arm's might. 
 
 To prove this lie and wrong before you all. 
 
 Who wrest from me unheard, untried, my sight. 
 
 What profit me your garnered laws, when right 
 
 Of trial. Noblest One, has been denied ? 
 
 A thousand years of laws are dark as night. 
 
 When citizens are base: for laws but hide 
 
 The truth — the right within just minds must first reside. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 " Rememberest thou the year when Carthage fell? 
 
 A century's royal hoard I shipped to thee ; 
 
 While Gelimer sent from the citadel. 
 
 His fortress-prison, a Moor to beg from me 
 
 A lyre, a loaf to ease his misery. 
 
 Strength but to wail his pitiable fate 
 
 Was all he asked. Around him he could see 
 
 Once fertile fields, now black and desolate. 
 
 And Roman armor gleaming at his palace gate. 
 
 16 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXV 
 
 *' Suspicion even then poisoned your heart, 
 
 That I too towering for a subject grew — 
 
 *Twas not your thought — my enemies dipped the dart 
 
 That almost cost my life, and cut from you 
 
 Your mailed right hand. When I returned, you knew 
 
 The truth. This medal at my neck, see, shares 
 
 Thy head and mine— two sides one face. Now view 
 
 The legend my side of the gold disk bears — 
 
 • The Glory of all Rome.' Thy judgment it declares. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 "Is Antonina near me — my wife? No? 
 
 May hot tears scorch her eyes till they are dark 
 
 As these of mine. Lust, love, how close ye go ! 
 
 The ravening hawk mates not the soaring lark. 
 
 Must love, sweet bird, bound for its heavenly mark. 
 
 That sees and sings fair sights as strange as song. 
 
 Be pinioned in its homeward flight, and stark 
 
 Be fed upon ? No ! No ! my absence long 
 
 In thy behalf, Great Prince, has worked me fatal wrong. 
 
 17 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXVII 
 
 " I well remember how her love stored up 
 Sweet waters for me, when our vessel's hoard 
 Was spoilt. Mysteriously she filled my cup 
 And laughed like love's magician. She restored 
 The heart of hungry Rome once; took the sword. 
 Went to Campania, levied men, a fleet. 
 And convoyed food to us. At her word 
 The treacherous Pope Silverius lost his seat — 
 But why should I these idle memories repeat? 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 ** Well know I feats of war, not fawning peace 
 And courtier wiles. T' outstrip in desert sands 
 The Persian horse and bid invasion cease. 
 To sail a scanty fleet to Vandal lands. 
 To conquer and return. By Gothic bands 
 Besieged in Rome I starved. Where foes did swarm 
 In broken gates I fought with my own hands. 
 My breast the only bar against the storm — 
 Alas ! how I can boast who cannot now perform. 
 
 18 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIX 
 
 ** As useless as a eunuch or a monk 
 
 Though I am still a man and not a slave : 
 
 My martial usefulness to mere wind shrunk. 
 
 Belying the man's strength and voice I have. 
 
 Naught but a voice from out an empty cave. 
 
 Why speak? Were it so well I won from thee 
 
 Thy heart — still I am blind. My Liege, I crave 
 
 My son may lead me off." Then, sad to see. 
 
 He held his hands out, then, **Where is the child?" cried he. 
 
 XXX 
 
 " The boy will never come, nor hear again 
 
 Thy voice — not dead — I know not where he is,'* 
 
 Faltered the king. Oh! pain and passion then 
 
 Carved Belisarius' face and knotted his 
 
 Big muscles. So he stood in Italy's 
 
 Hard wars or Africa's, when blood did flow. 
 
 He felt in the dark their hot eyes' archeries. 
 
 As a hurt lion feels the jungle glow. 
 
 On his death-night, with orbs of hungry, waiting foe. 
 
 19 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXI 
 
 " God ! Let my brain, tempered in war's fierce fire. 
 
 Break not at blows of peace, hate's quiet might ! 
 
 A beacon watching Rome, must I expire 
 
 Like lamps kept lit by timid girls at night. 
 
 Blown out at dawn, when courage comes with light? 
 
 A king's love lost ! A nation's service ceased ! 
 
 My wife a traitor ! My eyes seared of sight ! 
 
 My nestling carried off by savage beast. 
 
 Heaven! help me humbly to decrease as I increased. 
 
 XXXII 
 
 ** Why did ye not first slay, then bury me ? 
 
 What is a man, that ye dare wound him so? 
 
 A captive beast crowds in the circus see. 
 
 Transfixed with javelins — then in sport let go? 
 
 And love of child? Ah, that ye cannot know! " 
 
 As when Rome burned the moon and stars grew pale, 
 
 So weak and white did King and courtiers grow 
 
 Before his flaming wrath and red assail. 
 
 And many true hearts bled beneath their golden mail. 
 
 20 
 
TJie Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 His soldiers led him to the palace gate, 
 
 A beggar's staff they snatched and gave his hand. 
 
 And grimly grieved, amazed at his fall'n state 
 
 As he went forth alone in that dark land. 
 
 Behind him groups of dazzling courtiers stand ; 
 
 And many a jest they pass at his lost sight. 
 
 He errs, he stumbles — loud laughs that gay band. 
 
 Hateful is he to them, as is the light 
 
 To flashing fireflies^ that gild a misty night. 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 Loud scoffed a Roman, dressed in Hunnish wear — 
 That barbarous fashion then did gallants nurse, 
 To swagger in fierce garb and flowing hair — 
 '* This work is but half done, so but made worse. 
 The King is kind ? No, weak, and it will curse 
 His tottering throne. Blind adders have their sting; 
 Poison 's in fangs, and not in eyes or purse. 
 Soon treason's voice shall cry this beggar king, 
 New tumults and new wars upon our state to bring.' 
 
 21 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXV 
 
 The sun crept high on Saint Sophia's dome ; 
 
 Along the walls the noiseless night stole fast; 
 
 The curious following crowd had scattered home ; 
 
 But Belisarius groped until at last 
 
 He reached the city gates — blind, shunned, outcast- 
 
 The gates of many triumphs, now of dole, 
 
 Golden to enter out of perils past 
 
 And victories won, a homeward, happy goal. 
 
 Dark exit now they gave to dark days for his soul. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART II 
 
 When Antonina learned the awful price 
 Exacted by the Queen for treacherous aid, 
 To rid her of her husband and entice 
 A lover, conscience-calm and unafraid, — 
 Her son's abduction was the price she paid — 
 Seeing her deeper, secret hope had failed. 
 Of goading Belisarius, traitor made. 
 To rouse the people and their king be hailed ; 
 She through her palace raved and her hard fate be- 
 wailed. 
 
 II 
 
 Her vigorous spirit did not long repine. 
 
 Nor yield to hostile skies the sight of tears; 
 
 New plots she brooded, wickeder design, — 
 
 To kill her husband and so still her fears. 
 
 But lest the deed come to the Emperor's ears, 
 
 She quickly planned a feast, that night, be made 
 
 To trusted friends, older in crimes than years. 
 
 Of these three youths, of devils unafraid. 
 
 Would do her wish, she knew, with all-too-ready blade. 
 
 23 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Across the Bospliorus the palace stood — 
 
 White marble temples in a park of flowers — 
 
 The further side protected by a wood, 
 
 Whose grottoes and dim lakes soothed sultry hours. 
 
 But sweeter were the hill-side garden bowers, 
 
 Amid whose blossoms spouted fountains gay. 
 
 Babbling to birds that braved the sparkling showers. 
 
 And sang and gleamed and blessed the night and day: 
 
 While opposite, in view, Constantinople lay. 
 
 IV 
 
 The world had been ransacked to build her hall. 
 The gods had burst their tombs and lived anew. 
 Rose marble, swirled to flame, covered the wall. 
 Broken by pilasters of emerald hue. 
 The porphyry floor, — fit rest for Juno's shoe — 
 Mirrored gold ceilings, with their myriad lights. 
 And balconies, lace-marble screened from view. 
 And antique shapes. But brighter than these sights 
 The youths, who on bronze couches leaned, and drank 
 delights. 
 
 24) 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 She entered and she bade her singers three, 
 
 In song, of all her men and maids the best. 
 
 To ease the burden of her misery, 
 
 And sing to her, for song might give her rest. 
 
 And music drive the furies from her breast. 
 
 So from their seats thej^ rose and took their stand. 
 
 A fresh, young knight in war equipment dressed; 
 
 A bearded Cypriot, minstrel of love's land ; 
 
 And a pale, troubled girl, a red rose in her hand. 
 
 VI 
 
 *' O how I hate the man whom once I loved. 
 The bitterer since he could not hold my heart, 
 Transmute by wealth, which should the world have 
 
 moved. 
 To greater uses than a woman's part 
 In bed and board. God, what a fool thou art 
 To bring forth heroes from mixed ancestry. 
 Protect them from disease and war's dire dart, 
 A Titan breed for earth's new destiny. 
 Then let mischance' blind blow insult thy prophecy." 
 
 25 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 ** Sing me such songs as once the Sirens sang. 
 
 Not they Ulysses mocked with stolid ears, 
 
 Whose voices over barren waters rang. 
 
 To frighten sailors' wives with jealous fears; 
 
 But those who greet the souls that Charon steers 
 
 When they tread asphodel. Whose music dulls 
 
 All pangs of longing for these mortal years; 
 
 And love and hate and all remorse annuls. 
 
 Undressing souls of grief, and earth-born terror lulls. 
 
 The Girl sings. 
 
 Tell me! If you found me in a mart 
 In Asia, where mild-faced camels pass. 
 Bearing slave-girls from far-ofF Circass; 
 Tell me now, yes truly, from your heart! 
 As we stood there, shame-faced, meek. 
 
 You, a prince, espy me. 
 Bartered for by merchants sleek; 
 
 Would you buy me ? 
 
 26 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 Tell me ! If you found me where men sin 
 In cities; day's weary toil, at night, 
 Changing for unchaste, unblest delight; 
 Tell me, as you hope my soul to win ! 
 For what others offered you. 
 
 Love, could you refuse me? 
 Spite of all that they might do, 
 
 Would you choose me? 
 
 Dainty women, if they passed your way 
 Or stopped? Queens and ladies, fair to see. 
 Looked at you, and smiled imploringly? 
 Tell me, for I cannot longer stay! 
 Would you close your precious eyes 
 
 Tight to their vanity, 
 Shapely breasts and marble thighs. 
 
 And dream of me ? 
 
 27 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VIII 
 
 " Child/' Antonina said, " is this thy dream. 
 To fill a man's thought so exclusively ? 
 No! No! Their minds with many faces teem, 
 Which fancy fondles in heart's truancy. 
 Playing with might-have-been or what might be. 
 And when some staunch heart holds a single face. 
 Then duties, cares, great plans by land or sea, — 
 Such men take gravely, — chill their rare embrace. 
 Absorb their little minds and leave for love no place. 
 
 The Knight sings. 
 
 My lady loves her radiant garden. 
 Gently moves among her flowers,- 
 Iris, poppies, oleander. 
 O the garden! 
 
 Sweet, she rests amid its sweetness. 
 Laughs and dreams, her face in blossoms. 
 While the sunshine feeds rich colors. 
 O the sweetness! 
 
 On the one side flows a river. 
 Sparkling, merry. Boats bear on it 
 Companies of youths and maidens. 
 O the river! 
 
 28 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 And she^ smiling, flings them flowers. 
 Back they sing their answer to her. 
 Floating past her with their music. 
 O the music! 
 
 On the other side a high-road. 
 Toiled upon by horsemen, footmen: 
 Dusty travelers know that garden. 
 O the high-road! 
 
 And the lady gives them bounty, 
 Food and wine and kindly speeches, 
 Till_, refreshed, they journey onward. 
 O the toilers ! 
 
 So she gives the happy pleasure. 
 And the weary soft refreshment. 
 O my lady, from your garden. 
 Give me love! 
 
 29 
 
TJie Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 ** Poor Knight/* and Antonina almost smiled, 
 *' Where is her garden ? I would see that sight. 
 Dreamer art thou, as is this anxious child. 
 Must women be but givers of delight? 
 * Give, give/ you shout, as to some goddess. Knight. 
 Does she want nothing .^ What ! Has she no need ? 
 Yes, women wish what few men have to plight — 
 Great tenderness with strength. Should beggar plead 
 With beggar for his food? or hailed to, will he heed? ' 
 
 The Cypriot sings. 
 
 Two things the gods cannot destroy^ 
 
 Although they envy human joy. 
 
 And blast men's smiles. 
 
 Washing their face with tears: — 
 
 Beauty of women, that beguiles. 
 
 Strength of men, through youth's brief years; 
 
 Eyes of brightness. 
 
 Limbs of lightness. 
 
 These must the gods desire ; 
 
 Or end the race they made 
 
 And quench the altar-fire, 
 
 Where sacrifice is paid. 
 
 30 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 " Cyprus is right, beauty will never die. 
 
 Young eyes will shine ; young limbs with lightness move ; 
 
 Strong beasts will prowl; the happy birds will fly 
 
 In silent groves or in the blue above. 
 
 But what for you and me does all this prove .^ 
 
 Our bodies soon will rot beneath the grass. 
 
 Feeding fat glow-worms, not the flame of love. 
 
 Flesh, flesh you weary me! Unquiet mass 
 
 Of festering, fetid pulp ! Pah ! beauty soon will pass." 
 
 XI 
 
 But Antonina's ears could bear no more 
 Youth's dream of love, in breathing tones so sweet; 
 It clangored on the deeds her bosom bore. 
 And crashed in discord past her strength to meet. 
 Seizing a torch beside her throne-like seat. 
 She hurried into silence, night and air. 
 Crushing closed flowers with her sandaled feet, 
 And sought a lane of cypress, pacing there 
 Between imperial busts, that out of darkness stare. 
 
 31 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XII 
 
 Soon he must come. How would he look? What say? 
 
 Would his blind fingers grip her jeweled throat. 
 
 And purge its laughter and its lies away? 
 
 Kill the white flesh on which he used to dote ? 
 
 And — should her dagger stab him if he smote. 
 
 Both dying there, sneered at by marble kings ? 
 
 She stops. That sound ! At last — is it his boat. 
 
 Or pebble-chasing waves? Now armor rings. 
 
 Too noisy is the slave, who Belisarius brings. 
 
 XIII 
 
 Well might his murderous wife recoil afeard 
 
 From presence of her lord. But was it he? 
 
 This aged man, — wliite hair, white face, white beard. 
 
 And vacant eyes that rolled but did not see ? 
 
 Does midnight ghost confront her treachery? 
 
 Cheeks fear blanched not, brown hair war could not 
 
 harm. 
 Bleached by his broken heart's hour's agony ; 
 Lips trembling that once laughed at death's alarm. 
 And voice uncertain now that war's worst shocks could 
 
 calm. 
 
 32 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIV 
 
 ** Antonina ? Why have you called me back ? 
 You run grave risk in this. Upon the road 
 Your servant found me, struggling in the black 
 Abyss of double night. Without abode, 
 I groped alone, where once my legions strode. 
 I find you in a song-cage, sweet with scent 
 Of sleeping flowers. What wantonness, what toad 
 Of lust is here .'' On new loves are you bent ? 
 My fall you quickly wrought. Why stay my banish- 
 ment.^ " 
 
 XV 
 
 " Be short of speech in what you have to say. 
 
 For if a palace spy saw me borne hence. 
 
 And carried word, we both should be their prey. 
 
 Your banqueters might speed a message thence; 
 
 And while my life has little consequence, 
 
 I must not die until I find him out 
 
 Who owes to us his life." In dark suspense 
 
 He waited her reply, groping about. 
 
 She could not speak, or touch his hand, or still his doubt. 
 
 S3 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVI 
 
 " I would I knew to-night what hands prepare 
 His couch, or give him water, if he thirst, 
 Whose knees he kneels at for his bedtime prayer ! 
 God grant some woman, who strong sons has nursed. 
 Who in the needs and ways of boys is versed! 
 She will awake and answer if he call; 
 Will quiet his new fears and even durst 
 Defend him, if a slave in anger fall 
 Upon him, or a soldier crazed from drunken brawl. 
 
 XVII 
 
 " You bring me back only to feed your tears ? 
 Yet this is much ; they were not used to flow 
 And splash from your dark eyes in former years. 
 Weep ! Weep ! Now I believe the wondrous blow 
 That Moses smote the rock. But let me go. 
 I came — I know not why. There is an end 
 To all things, past which lies no hope and no 
 Beginnings. Youth, child-bearing, sight, a friend 
 Once lost, no prayers can alter, no remorse amend." 
 
 S4 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVIII 
 
 ** My Lord, never thought I to see you thus ! 
 
 My eyes will weep themselves to blindness too. 
 
 You must see. Look, my torch ! No, cavernous 
 
 Thine eyes as these deep shadows, or yon view 
 
 Of inky weltering waves, that once you knew. 
 
 Vast punishment is mine! I've lost my son. 
 
 Snatched from my arms by a masked, murderous crew. 
 
 My husband's all despoiled ! I — I have done 
 
 This hideous, bootless wrong and towards worse evils run. 
 
 XIX 
 
 ** How could I know the King would take our child? 
 
 My dream was to inflame you, driven to bay. 
 
 To lead the people, who had often styled 
 
 You king, to crown you. Like a sheep you lay 
 
 While vultures picked your eyes out — filched your day. 
 
 A feeble woman may well fawn to power. 
 
 But you the head of all Rome's armed array ! 
 
 God, what a man ! Before the King you cower, 
 
 Who might have sat his throne with me, this woeful hour. 
 
 35 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XX 
 
 " Justinian and his Empress are less fit 
 
 To rule the world than we. They do not look 
 
 So much a regal station and they sit 
 
 Their twin-thrones negligently. You'd have shook 
 
 The world from Bosphorus; Justinian's book — 
 
 His laws — trash to your name. Your sword had flashed 
 
 Its threats to far frontiers, till every nook 
 
 Of empire throve in peace — where Parthians dashed. 
 
 Or flying Gothic spears against our armor clashed. 
 
 XXI 
 
 " I remember the first time you saw me. 
 
 In the new theatre by the Hippodrome ! 
 
 The Emperor and you were there to see 
 
 Our famous Theodora, newly come 
 
 From her Ionian revels, sick for home. 
 
 Oh ! how we others teased and envied her, 
 
 Who had the friendship of the throne of Rome ! 
 
 How anxious of our looks and steps we were, 
 
 If, haply, we some pulse in his cold frame might stir! 
 
 36 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXII 
 
 " When all was done, Justinian called her forth. 
 
 You summoned me. I thought my breast would burst. 
 
 Your every deed I knew — your unstained worth. 
 
 My father said you were of all men first; 
 
 But were in war's harsh cares too deep immersed 
 
 To heed light pleasures. By the King you sat. 
 
 Like Mars with Jove, quenching with gold our thirst. 
 
 How courteous your words, as you gazed at 
 
 My player's gauds. 'Twas then I vowed to leave all that. 
 
 XXIII 
 
 ** My father — yes, he was a charioteer. 
 Who safely drove his madly dashing team. 
 His only spur the people's jeer or cheer — 
 Thought you a god, and me child of a dream. 
 To wed so near the throne. How would you seem. 
 Think you, to him now} Yes, horses he drove; 
 But held them steady to the clanking beam. 
 He steered his life and in the circus throve, 
 Better than you have shaped your life, who with kings 
 strove. 
 
 87 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIV 
 
 " How often have I saved you from yourself. 
 Dejected to digest the worst of ills 
 Your enemies could concoct. Your wealth was pelf 
 They dared not seize; so as a hunter kills 
 A tropic bird and all its heart-blood spills, 
 For one gold feather, these men planned your doom. 
 You fled the palace and its treacherous sills. 
 Escaped to me, to make your bed your tomb. 
 And heard assassins' stealth when footsteps passed our 
 room. 
 
 XXV 
 
 " I pleaded with the Emperor for your life. 
 Explained you to him, cleared up what seemed strange; 
 Adjured him, by my girl's love for his wife. 
 To give your life to me — take in exchange 
 Whatever pleased him — all I would arrange. 
 When to your ears I brought my message sweet. 
 You kneeled to me like one great fears derange. 
 Embraced my knees, and kissed my sandaled feet. 
 And vowed you owed me more than two lips could re- 
 peat. 
 
 38 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXVI 
 
 " You should have worshiped me and let me guide 
 
 The fortune of your house. What wife but I 
 
 Would leave a capital and seek your side 
 
 In far campaigns, fatigueless, fearless, my 
 
 Ambition thine ; — with thee, perchance, to die, 
 
 Or for thee do great deeds, my only thought? 
 
 Your troops I saved, when generals dared not try: 
 
 Ranging a hostile land for food, I brought 
 
 It back to Rome. Was such love, such devotion naught? 
 
 XXVII 
 
 " Your soldier couch I shared, your soldier fare, 
 
 And fancied that I shared your heart and mind : 
 
 But there I missed. Of help you stripped me bare ; 
 
 The fruit you gave Justinian, me the rind. 
 
 Yes, crowns were proffered you, which you declined, 
 
 ' For King and state.' ^le you put after both. 
 
 At last the King and state have stripped you blind. 
 
 What can a woman do, frail as a moth, 
 
 When men are weak and blind ? No wonder I am wroth ! 
 
 39 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 "What matter you are blind? You never saw. 
 
 You took my best^ as you from slaves took wirie. 
 
 I hate your " king/' your ** state/' your " dutj^/' " law/ 
 
 You gave to them what was not theirs but mine, 
 
 Vague to my soul^ dull when my heart did pine. 
 
 A woman's want is not her husband's fame. 
 
 Ah, no! She dreams she clasps a god divine^ 
 
 Wlien love enhanced by a resounding name. 
 
 Her beauty, worth, and fortune to all time proclaim. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 "What is your loyalty? A forced faith kept 
 
 Between your word and deed, your lips and ears; 
 
 Like royal missives none may intercept? 
 
 Is it a man's odd honor to his peers; 
 
 Or dull fidelity of shields and spears. 
 
 That, do he as he will, protects a king? 
 
 T plight my faith to glorious ideas. 
 
 That rule beyond our lives and swiftly wing 
 
 Their flight from God to man, his soul inspiriting. 
 
 AtO 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXX 
 
 ** Can you not see you owed me duty, too? 
 
 And owed your son ? We should have been the first 
 
 You planned for, fought for, prayed you might be true. 
 
 Ours should have been your best and not your worst. 
 
 A woe is mine ! My blood by Christ accursed ! 
 
 Why did I hate the circus and the stage. 
 
 For mind, affection, power and splendor thirst. 
 
 In sleepless watch of court and camp engage. 
 
 To lose now all I earned, and win a lonely age ? 
 
 XXXI 
 
 " You've seen me stoop to pick an acorn up. 
 Discovered in my path. I knew it held 
 A mighty oak within its rough-chased cup. 
 Its future, in its signet-seed, I spelled; 
 Strivings of root, trunk, bough — all these enshelled 
 My palm could hide. Twin acorns were a toy 
 I saved for months. Why was I thus impelled? 
 You were my kindred hope, you and our boy. 
 Genius and youth — with love — can world-wide rule 
 enjoy. 
 
 41 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXII 
 
 " So when I found your courage had no root 
 Or prime in love — that soil of mighty deeds — 
 And further saw that all your great repute 
 You bluffly laughed at^ calling laurels weeds. 
 Glory, a dainty dish on which time feeds, 
 And courted honors only as they patched 
 The robe of state; for me and for my needs 
 What was there left, except, what you unlatched — 
 My heart — and entered not, open to guests that 
 matched/' 
 
 XXXIII 
 
 Her body failed her, then her fertile mind; 
 Her throat was gripped, but not by human hand; 
 Nor could she, fainting, further logic find; 
 For by her pity she was so unmanned. 
 She had forgot the very deed she planned. 
 The rising wind waved wildly the black trees ; 
 The heaving waters grated on the sand; 
 Clouds hid the stars. Then strike, for no one sees ! 
 But no ! She waits his words, with weak and trembling 
 knees. 
 
 42 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXIV 
 
 " Antonina, you talk but do not think; 
 
 Or brood too much on self, which clouds the mind. 
 
 You never fathomed where my spirits sink. 
 
 Or lightened by sweet glances that divined 
 
 The terrors my soul sees. Would I were blind! 
 
 I see the empire falling, and I know 
 
 Nothing can hold it — war and prayer combined. 
 
 God and our foes decree it shall be so: 
 
 My victories^ like Hesper, creeping darkness show. 
 
 XXXV 
 
 " I shielded you from every breath of blame. 
 
 Warded all danger from your glorious head; 
 
 Till foes pronounced my loyalty my shame. 
 
 Found my mind warped, my moral nature dead. 
 
 Sisaura's battlefield for you I fled. 
 
 My friends, who warned me of your household sin. 
 
 Paid with their lives the honest words they said. 
 
 Bitter for me the death of Constantin, 
 
 And the blind, foolish mazes love has led me in. 
 
 43 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 " I trusted you as only man's love trusts — 
 
 Too much for gift, or trick, or to take care 
 
 To buttress love, or fear unholy lusts: 
 
 For did you not my breast and fortune share? 
 
 What more for you to wish, or me to dare ? 
 
 My arm was Rome's defense, your face was mine. 
 
 Burdened by beauty, memory in despair 
 
 Drops the excess. When my eyes turned to thine. 
 
 All memory you surpassed and seemed a thing divine. 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 " Could you conceive my hands raised against him 
 Whom all my deeds and all my thoughts defend? 
 Or urge my sword in royal rivers swim. 
 Which tiptoed in his foes ? A treacherous friend ! 
 My blade, confounded by such devil-blend. 
 Barbarian blood and Greek upon one steel. 
 Would crumble into dust, ere it would lend 
 Its edge to such adultery. No ! Do not kneel. 
 Though wife, you knew me not, if this you could not 
 feel. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXXVIII 
 
 ** As a man dying frets in silent thought, 
 That those around him do not stop to guess, 
 But prattle how they prospered^ sold or bought ; 
 .What pleasures clasped, or what expect confess; 
 What names have mounted higher, what grown less. 
 While all the time, the sick man feels death's clutch. 
 And shudders for some word his soul to bless. 
 Some human converse of that chilly touch; 
 So I, perhaps, in Rome's death-mood have dwelt too 
 much." 
 
 XXXIX 
 
 The lady's anger could no further go. 
 
 Her plight was strange, her course was far from plain. 
 
 First, she had hoped the throne to overthrow; 
 
 Or, failing this, at least a lover gain. 
 
 Then, to insure the fruit of hellish bane. 
 
 She set blind Belisarius a trap. 
 
 Where by assassins' blades he could be slain. 
 
 But face to face with him and his mishap. 
 
 She wept as Mary wept, the dead Christ in her lap. 
 
 45 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XL 
 
 While Antonina's dauntless heart grew soft. 
 And shrank from deeper sin and deadlier wrong. 
 The servile youths, waiting her will, had oft 
 Silenced their laughter, stopped their dance and song; 
 Or as they drank, with side look, listened long 
 For summons to their final bloody deed. 
 At last the signal rang — not faint, but strong 
 With terror of real pain. So out they speed. 
 With torch and sword, to slay the last of Rome's great 
 breed. 
 
 XLI 
 
 Their tumult waked the birds in sleeping trees; 
 
 And flashed strange light on sea-wall, fountain, urn; 
 
 Roused Antonina's horror from her knees, 
 
 Who bade the slave that brought the blind return 
 
 And save him with his life. Then, did she spurn 
 
 Her torch, and to the peering murderers hied. 
 
 In her wild soul new, brighter fires burn. 
 
 Veiling her face, " Here ! Here ! Strike here ! " she 
 
 cried. 
 And on their drawn swords ran and in their arms she 
 
 died. 
 
 46 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART III 
 
 A thousand birds sang paean to the light. 
 When Belisarius 'gan his search engage. 
 He did not seem an exile, nor in flight, 
 Although he walked unserved by slave or page. 
 *' Some grave astrologer or mighty sage 
 Grown blind o'er books ! His beard, see, white as snow.'* 
 " A great king toiling on a pilgrimage. 
 Anxious and pale to pay his pious vow; 
 Look you, how prayers have upward ridged his frowning 
 brow." 
 
 II 
 
 West with the night he made his doubtful way, — 
 For choice of paths to ignorance there is none, — 
 Four hundred days of journeying there lay 
 Between the rising and the setting sun; 
 Two hundred north and south as carriers run. 
 How can he find, who knows not where to look, 
 And has not eyes to see the goal when won ? 
 The olive-fringed Pannonian road he took, 
 Byzantium's thankless dust from off his sandals shook. 
 
 47 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Whene'er he passed where an old soldier dwelt, 
 
 With busy hands the good wife led him in; 
 
 While pangs of angry pain the veteran felt. 
 
 To see his leader lonely, silent, thin. 
 
 " Alas," she sighed, " he ne'er committed sin "; 
 
 Or " Woe is me ! what scars his strong arms wear ! " 
 
 And " Ah," said he, " what battles he could win. 
 
 Loving the van's most desperate risks to share! 
 
 I hear his voice like forward, brazen trumpet's blare." 
 
 IV 
 
 Where laughing children circled in a game. 
 
 His wanderings Belisarius would stay. 
 
 To tell them tales of far lands whence he came. 
 
 They looked and listened, while his hands would stray 
 
 Amongst their curls, or with their soft hands play; 
 
 Or sometimes with gaunt, trembling fingers trace 
 
 Their features, wonderstruck, and gently say, 
 
 " Know ye a boy whose face is like my face? " 
 
 But no, his tears would frighten them from his embrace. 
 
 48 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 One day he paused before the lofty door 
 
 Of a basilica thrown open wide; 
 
 Proud, kingly knees had pressed its holy floor 
 
 And earthly lords had there heaven's pardon cried. 
 
 He entered not, but knelt and prayed outside. 
 
 A warrior-saint, carved in immortal prayer, 
 
 He might have been; but peace did not abide 
 
 Upon his face. Many who passed him there, 
 
 Within prayed for themselves and for his dark despair. 
 
 VI 
 
 Who knows what spirits hasten at our thought? 
 O were they by Christ's virgin-mother sent? 
 Why ask what saint to him sweet solace brought. 
 What guardian angel heavenly influence lent? 
 Fresh from their prayers, on holy lives intent. 
 With hallowed brows, a group of maidens came. 
 At sight of his bowed form their hearts were rent 
 With tender pity : for they knew his fame, 
 His cruel wrongs, his grief and undeserved shame. 
 
 49 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 Their gentle voices roused his prayerful dream. 
 His huge, clasped hands their timid fingers pressed. 
 His arms they prop, and Caryatids seem, 
 White-robed like lilies in the isles far west. 
 They led him to a place where he could rest — 
 For their young hearts brimmed full with charity; 
 Their lips spoke love, their eyes were like the blest— 
 And found a marble seat beneath a tree. 
 Set in a fragrant garden's walled tranquillity. 
 
 VIII 
 
 One bathed his forehead, one his tired feet; 
 
 Some spread white linen on a table nigh. 
 
 And placed there bread and wine, and honey sweet. 
 
 And mellow fruits in baskets heaped up high. 
 
 Hid in cool leaves. They all did vie 
 
 In maiden ministries with joy and zeal. 
 
 With many a soft caress and stifled sigh; 
 
 But when, refreshed, he smiled, they round him kneel. 
 
 And speak the love and sympathy their warm breasts feel. 
 
 50 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 ** Glory of Rome^ we know thy heavy heart 
 
 Is dark with grief for loss of one you love. 
 
 If he were dead, then you could bear your part 
 
 In mankind's common sorrow. God above, 
 
 For He sees all, knows whither you must rove. 
 
 Alas, we dearly love, for maids we are ! 
 
 Mute death's cold hand one's passion did reprove; 
 
 While others daily pray for lovers, far 
 
 Away on treacherous seas, or in the front of war. 
 
 ** O emperor death, whose slaves we are at last, 
 
 Why are you covetous of life's domain.^ 
 
 Across her borders, why your legions cast 
 
 To separate fond hearts.^ O'er woe you reign, 
 
 O emperor death, dark lord of grief and pain. 
 
 Is death so short you pilfer from life's store .f* 
 
 Is life so long you cannot wait your slain? 
 
 Like hungry waves that feed upon the shore 
 
 And snarl and rave in billowy strife to waste it more. 
 
 51 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XI 
 
 " But love can live though oceans intervene ; 
 
 For love will speak when women's lips are dead. 
 
 And hearts commune though faces are unseen. 
 
 And nameless perils and unreasoning dread 
 
 Come with the night to watch the wakeful bed. 
 
 Like Iris' rainbow path, love spans the sky. 
 
 And up this mystic way, pure souls are led 
 
 To joyful greetings at a tryst on high; 
 
 For true love holy is and feeds not through the eye. 
 
 XII 
 
 " Thy lot is hard, but it is not the worst 
 That father e'er befell. For we have read 
 How Brutus bade his son be slain, the first 
 To disobey him, though 'twas courage led 
 The wilful boy our enemies' blood to shed. 
 How grieved Aurelius at that stripling weak. 
 Young Commodus ! Better had he been dead. 
 Than sat the throne ! Naught paled Sever us' cheek 
 Until his son with poison cup his life did seek. 
 
 52 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 ** O' bitter, bitter was another's fate. 
 
 King Chosroes, of that pure Persian race. 
 
 Although the world has called him Fortunate, 
 
 Thou wouldst not make exchange for his high place: 
 
 Whose son rebellious from his love and grace. 
 
 Made bloody war against his father's throne; 
 
 But never after saw his father's face. 
 
 Hot needles stabbing sight, his crime atone. 
 
 Ah, sad the sire whose sceptred hand must blind his 
 
 XIV 
 
 " Nor would you wish your son to outlive you ; 
 
 His weakness enter times ruled by your foes. 
 
 Who could do nothing else than kill him too. 
 
 Lest his great name should their mean pomp disclose. 
 
 Mark Antony's dire death did so expose 
 
 His Fulvia's son. Thus died earth's dearest boy, 
 
 Caesarion, Cleopatra's child. Our woes. 
 
 Our loss, our shame we can endure with joy. 
 
 Than loved ones leave for those who hate us to destroy. 
 
 53 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 " Thy son is somewhere waiting thy approach 
 With hope expectant and with heart assured. 
 No doubts of you upon his faith encroach, 
 Though loneliness and pain he has endured, 
 Or in oblivious dungeon been immured. 
 We pray that thou wilt trust the Father dear. 
 Whose blessed Son our ransom hath secured. 
 For He will guide thee and thy road make clear. 
 As by a star He led the Magi to Judea." 
 
 XVI 
 
 Then Belisarius smiled when they were done, 
 
 And said, " I trust a reigning Providence. 
 
 Who in the chance of war has often won. 
 
 Or gained success in works of consequence. 
 
 Come safe through plagues and perils, will bring thence 
 
 The feeling that some power above his own. 
 
 Is aiding him with its high influence. 
 
 But future mandates of the heavenly throne 
 
 We cannot penetrate, and they may cause us moan. 
 
 54 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVII 
 
 " Daughters of love, your words are like the night 
 
 That weaves its dream-web 'twixt two days of pain. 
 
 I feel the soothing of your presence bright, 
 
 Like woods at dusk adrip with silver rain. 
 
 Your words are like the slumbering night's low strain. 
 
 Which murmurs to the stars from dark till day, 
 
 A song of myriad life in hushed refrain; 
 
 The song of life that sings to us alway. 
 
 Amid our tears, our doubts, disease and death's decay. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 *' So fear not love with his ecstatic lyre. 
 
 Though in his train some go with grief and tears; 
 
 Some speed consumed with piteous, quenchless fire. 
 
 And some oppressed with dread and deathly fears; 
 
 He leads you to the goal of all your years. 
 
 We live by love experienced and expressed: 
 
 And he lives most who in his spirit rears 
 
 A shrine of admiration, ever blest, 
 
 Since love and utterance are the soul's eternal quest. 
 
 55 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIX 
 
 ** May it be true that his clear eyes await 
 
 On earth my coming; for I cannot rest 
 
 Though aimless be my search, until his fate 
 
 I follow to the end. Presumptuous quest! 
 
 When royal minions seize and hide, unguessed 
 
 Must long remain concealment. A damp cell 
 
 May prison him. He may the mean behest 
 
 Of swarthy, tropic races serve, or dwell 
 
 Beneath cold skies. Which way to seek I cannot tell.* 
 
 XX 
 
 The girls divided then their white-robed band: 
 Some eager search throughout the city made; 
 Some stayed behind; while one with lyre in hand, 
 An Ave's pure, pathetic, pleading played. 
 Which red lips chorused as her fingers strayed 
 Among the strings, till lulled to brief content 
 His head sank on his breast. But they afraid 
 To stay the strains that such oblivion sent, 
 A tuneful, happy choir about his slumbers knelt. 
 
 56 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXI 
 
 When they, poor doves, returned and brought no word 
 
 From fluttering quest along the city street, 
 
 For tidings of the child had no one heard, 
 
 Then Belisarius roused him to his feet. 
 
 They slowly led him from his calm retreat, 
 
 Walked with him far as sounds the city bell; 
 
 His helmet heaped with flowers — roses sweet, 
 
 White clematis, pansies and asphodel. 
 
 With sprays of rosemary — then, sadly said farewell. 
 
 57 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART IV 
 
 O Ostia what glories thou has seen ! 
 How held thy lips to kiss the hero home, 
 Or said farewell with proud, reluctant mien 
 To argosies whose conquests built fair Rome! 
 Warm-bosomed maids along thy beach have come. 
 Espying for a sail whose purple can 
 Enkindle cheeks no more, that, wet with foam. 
 Wait on thy strand, where Tiber's umber ran 
 With sluggish coil athwart the Mediterranean. 
 
 II 
 
 Upon a marble mole littered with wares. 
 
 Rich-freighted bales of foreign luxury. 
 
 Amid confusion of strange tongues and stares. 
 
 Where pulleys creaked and men tugged sturdily. 
 
 There Belisarius strayed. He could not see 
 
 The blue waves' glint and laughter far and vride; 
 
 But heard the soft repulse against the quay 
 
 Of waves importunate, whose tepid tide 
 
 Swashed idly 'twixt the pier and vessels at its side. 
 
 58 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Before his stumbling feet they smoothed the way. 
 
 Some knew him well; but even strangers felt 
 
 He was a man to glorify the day: 
 
 One that in dreams of world-wide purpose dwelt; 
 
 On equal terms with kings and princes dealt; 
 
 Before whose face all fear and baseness quailed; 
 
 Whose martial deeds in deathless bronze were spelt. 
 
 As some with joy their old commander hailed, 
 
 All ceased their sweaty labor and his steps assailed. 
 
 IV 
 
 They pressed around him with rough sympathy. 
 
 To ask his weal, of his adventures hear. 
 
 Or clasp and kiss his hands affectionately; 
 
 While many a bronzed cheek felt the helpless tear. 
 
 At his closed eyes that like the dead appear. 
 
 In words alone our comfort does not lie, 
 
 A friendly touch is eloquent to cheer; 
 
 For hearts can speak and voiceless make reply 
 
 But some to gladden him with friendly converse try. 
 
 59 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 " Bethinks me, master, I have seen thy son. 
 
 'Twas as I crossed the mountains driving swine; 
 
 Amongst the trees and every way they'd rmi 
 
 Than straight ahead. Ah, a hard lot is mine ! 
 
 *Twas then I met, high in the Apennine, 
 
 A drooping file of prisoners, old and young. 
 
 From neck to neck a chain confined the line, 
 
 Their wasted bodies in deep languor hung. 
 
 Like pendent beads that on this pretty chain are strung. 
 
 VI 
 
 " The swine I've sold and now I hasten home. 
 
 For there a wife and child are waiting me. 
 
 Ha, well they like the gifts I bring from Rome ! 
 
 If you would go my way your guide I'll be. 
 
 Thrice traveled is a road by one who cannot see." 
 
 " O cease thy prattle, fool," a soldier cried; 
 
 " Know'st thou not him who wrested Italy 
 
 Twice out of Gothic arms, and spurned aside 
 
 Ravenna's crown, else he had been our king, our guide? 
 
 60 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 " Great general, we live in bitter days 
 When matchless deeds are paid with matchless pain. 
 Yet in less glorious toil and humble ways 
 We share thy burdens, for we too sustain 
 Grave wrongs. Among our rulers lust of gain 
 Has rusted Roman arms and robbed the poor. 
 If worth did rule then were there other reign. 
 Barbarian vigor thunders at our door; 
 But pleasure, ease, vice, greed have sapped us at the 
 core. 
 
 VIII 
 
 *' Rome has no consuls now, Athens no schools 
 
 Where heavenly learning disenthralls the mind; 
 
 For tyranny can better reign o'er fools 
 
 And strikes at knowledge but would freedom bind. 
 
 Our King's religious zeal is golden rind 
 
 To nauseous pulp. His pageants for the crowd. 
 
 His bribery, his marriage base and blind. 
 
 Vesta is fled, that virgin-goddess proud! 
 
 For a deliverer our sad times cry aloud. 
 
 61 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 " Despond not. Sire, let hope still conquer fear. 
 Though constant disappointment you have known. 
 A man has often searched, year after year, 
 A hated enemy that caused him moan, 
 A treasure he had lost, a precious stone; 
 And when his cheated heart did almost fail. 
 There stood his foe whose blood did straight atone. 
 There flashed the gem as plain as polished mail. 
 lYes, if you wish, I could relate a curious tale. 
 
 " 'Twas once we came from Egypt with rich store 
 Of strange-wrought Asian silks and ivory. 
 And perfumes such that should you chance to pour 
 One drop upon your tunic carelessly, 
 Rose-drenched 'twould be as Persian poesy. 
 And pearls and spicery. Our way seemed laid 
 Through fragrant Indian groves grown from the sea. 
 We sailors like that wealthy Eastern trade, 
 Where danger and despatch a double wage are paid. 
 
 62 
 
The Search of Belisariiis 
 
 XI 
 
 " Our little fleet fled straight across the sea. 
 
 Within one vessel rowed my dearest friend^ 
 
 And in one I. Sometimes so near were we. 
 
 He broke the eddies that my oar would send 
 
 A-swirling back, or in our songs could blend 
 
 His distant echoing voice. We laughed and knew 
 
 Each other's thought and wished the voyage would end. 
 
 So all went merrily amongst the crew; 
 
 The captain oft, however, would the broad sea view. 
 
 XII 
 
 " But as we passed the straits of Sicily, 
 Bound on to Gaul, outleaped from hidden cave, 
 A galley black and lashed to foam the sea. 
 Like a dark storm with white feet in the wave. 
 Alas ! what could our precious cargoes save ? 
 Each separate ship in flight took different way; 
 Then one alone, perchance, would he enslave. 
 Soon night descending covered our dismay; 
 But all the sea gleamed bare, when once more dawned 
 the day. 
 
 63 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 " Our oars fell heavy toward our destined port. 
 Our goods unloaded, still we waited there. 
 Among the wharves where sailor-men resort, 
 Word passed of ships escaped the pirate's lair; 
 At last one came, but did not my friend bear. 
 Then vowed I search for him until the grave; 
 No home had we to which we could repair, — 
 A sailor's home shifts like the restless wave — 
 I could not think him dead or that he was a slave. 
 
 XIV 
 
 ** For years I searched for him but naught availed. 
 
 To many ports and favorite haunts I went. 
 
 The watery limit of the world I sailed; 
 
 But none could give my search encouragement. 
 
 At length my steps to Italy I bent 
 
 And for the Emperor fought the Gothic wars. 
 
 There all went wrong until Justinian sent 
 
 You, Sire, who gave life to our desperate cause 
 
 And lured the dullard Goth within our eagles' claws. 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 *' O what a memorable day was that 
 
 Ravenna broke her gates to our meagre rank ! 
 
 The Gothic women, in derision, spat 
 
 Upon their men, whose bulky bodies shrank 
 
 Away as we rode by with martial clank. 
 
 * These pigmy men — are they your conquerors ? 
 
 These puny-limbed are Romans? Ah, what prank 
 
 Have they played on you? O ye coward curs? ' 
 
 There stood my mate a-mocking at my bow and spurs. 
 
 XVI 
 
 Loud laughed his hearers at this happy end. 
 
 As to each heart some gracious memory sped. 
 
 " Life has no greater blessing than a friend," 
 
 A young Greek cried, " 'Tis folly makes men wed." 
 
 Then others spoke, but one old sailor said, 
 
 " Aye, surely. Sir, the child you soon will greet. 
 
 By mystic power you will to him be led. 
 
 As I have seen in a becalmed fleet 
 
 Two vessels drift and drift unguided till they meet.' 
 
 65 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVII 
 
 Another cried, " One thought should give you joy. 
 
 Your years of service have enriched the state, 
 
 And though, unhavened, you still seek the boy. 
 
 The past, unalterable, proclaims you great. 
 
 Was it a slight thing. General, to abate 
 
 The Persian, Vandal, Gothic insolence. 
 
 Win Africa and Italy, create 
 
 New honors for old shame and impotence? 
 
 Thou our deliverer art; thy fame is our defense/* 
 
 XVIII 
 
 Then he : ** Once my own thought could gladden me, 
 
 A tropic garden that no winter chilled. 
 
 Where quiet reigned amid war's butchery, 
 
 A safe retreat with love and sweetness filled. 
 
 All this has passed away. Now I am thrilled 
 
 To sudden pangs by thought, yet woo the blade's 
 
 Envenomed wound, like priests whose blood is spilled 
 
 By casting upon knives in India's glades, 
 
 Whose comfort is their pain, who quicken as life fades. 
 
 66 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIX 
 
 " Fame is a fire upon a mountain top. 
 
 Kindled by climbers who have reached the height. 
 
 To signal friends who in home valleys stop. 
 
 That they have touched the goal. Throughout the night 
 
 The beacon flames — no star so large, so bright — 
 
 Heaped with dead limbs, by chilly watchers fed; 
 
 But ere the morning star has dimmed its light. 
 
 Charred sticks alone remain. The climbers fled. 
 
 Now dare more dangerous peaks, or seek a weary bed. 
 
 XX 
 
 " Then, too, I see that fame feeds not the heart. 
 That great deeds often sicken on the mind. 
 Seem small, what any might have done, impart 
 No strength or joy in grief, nor sight when blind. 
 But heaven and earth to me are not unkind. 
 Great sorrow is for man a common case. 
 Youth stumbles, age expects its way to find." 
 He ceased and one said, peering in his face: 
 " I saw a boy, I think, born of your lion race. 
 
 67 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXI 
 
 " You know the route from Rhodes to Bosphorus ? 
 
 We touched at Delos, sacred isle, for stone, — 
 
 White columns, — a Byzantium roof to truss — 
 
 The ruin of an ancient shrine o'erthrown. 
 
 Whose golden gates Apollo's face had known. 
 
 Low in the water sunk our burdened keel 
 
 With frieze and capital; nor these alone: 
 
 A godlike form the delved earth did reveal, 
 
 With brightly regnant brows to nod to man's appeal. 
 
 XXII 
 
 " We did not dare for other treasure stay, 
 
 Oft trembling when we heard Apollo's wail 
 
 Burst out in pain high up where Cynthus lay, 
 
 Echo afar, then die deep in the vale. 
 
 We fled in terror, set our fluttering sail. 
 
 And rowed in haste from land; but from the shore 
 
 Came fitful moans that caused our hearts to quail. 
 
 To think the gloomy fate that great god bore. 
 
 O Christ! art Thou our God, as he was god of yore? 
 
 68 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIII 
 
 " We rowed us hard and weary were our arms. 
 
 When on our ears a sea-born music fell. 
 
 That soothed our aches like magic Eastern balms, 
 
 Or like the poppy flowers that Indians smell. 
 
 Perplexed I turned and saw whence came the spell. 
 
 A galley sailing on the sunny sea; 
 
 Along her side, like sea-weed from the shell 
 
 Of floating nautilus, young boys in glee. 
 
 Trailed ribbons bright and some made music heavenly. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 " We stopped us both for they asked news from Rhodes. 
 
 The pretty passengers we quickly found 
 
 Deluded captives far from loved abodes, — 
 
 I thought them Lydian from their tongues' soft sound, — 
 
 To some slave market in Cilicia bound. 
 
 And yet they laughed and shouted, danced and sang ! 
 
 While sylvan flutes did strange sea-songs resound. 
 
 That made my soul sad with a nameless pang. 
 
 As though the Sirens' voices o'er the water rang. 
 
 Q9 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXV 
 
 " Side joined to side we rocked a-drift awhile 
 
 And in the shadow of our spread sails lay. 
 
 The boys, meantime, our leisure did beguile 
 
 With graceful dances and with music gay. 
 
 I noticed one who seemed to scorn their play: 
 
 He held a well-worn scroll and tried to read; 
 
 But when we spoke he often glanced our way. 
 
 A gem he looked, lost in a chest of seed. 
 
 His eyes lit with the prophecy of some great deed. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 " But when the western sky began to pale. 
 We loosed us from our merry company. 
 We north, they south, each on his course did sail. 
 Ere 'twixt our rudders yawned the waves to me, 
 I saw the boy spring to his feet and flee. 
 His clinging robes from oif his shoulders shake. 
 Dash to the stern and leap far in the sea; 
 Nor did he cut ten strokes in our white wake, 
 When their swift, hungry prow did his slim arms o'er- 
 take." 
 
 70 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXVII 
 
 *' A strain of hope is thine as rapturous 
 
 As those that thrill our hearts that morn in Spring 
 
 When first returning birds awaken us. 
 
 To unaccustomed ears divinely sing, 
 
 And to our dream a summer gladness bring. 
 
 Or like the little leafage April shows. 
 
 When mid new mazes we walk wondering. 
 
 Surprised at shadows the fresh foliage throws." 
 
 Thus Belisarius applauds the story's close. 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Then came a captain up, a swarthy man. 
 Whose wrinkled lids half hid his sparkling eyes; 
 For all day long the bright sea he did scan. 
 And like an eagle understood the skies. 
 To portent storm or gale he was most wise. 
 When he espied the one they crowded near. 
 He pressed his way, exclaiming in surprise: 
 " O Belisarius, great captain, dear 
 
 To me as life, what treacherous fortune brought you 
 here.^'* 
 
 71 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIX 
 
 He listening smiled ; " Ah, that is Gaius' voice. 
 Hoarse from disputing with the roaring sea 
 And choked with chilly fog. How I rejoice 
 That my old pilot stands once more by me ! 
 One sound I treasure like the sole-wrought key 
 To endless gold, but that I never hear, 
 Nor know if others hear. Would I could see 
 Thy shrewd, scarred face again, or greet the year 
 When you my red-sailed ship's adventurous course did 
 steer." 
 
 XXX 
 
 ** Still, Belisarius, I fare by sea. 
 
 As when I steered thy ship first in the fleet 
 
 Against the Vandal's hot hostility; 
 
 When from the north we swept like wintry sleet 
 
 And quenched King Gelimer's barbarous Afric heat. 
 
 Tomorrow eastward my own ship will go; 
 
 Again would I thy loved command repeat. 
 
 Although we sail against no vigorous foe. 
 
 But for the child whose infant face I used to know." 
 
 n 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART V 
 
 I 
 
 They fashioned at the stern a stately seat 
 To overlook the waters far ahead, 
 A lamb's warm fleece they placed beneath his feet, 
 And overhead a canvas screen they spread, 
 There he could sit and feel how fast they sped. 
 Before him two-score sturdy rowers sat. 
 While from the masts rough sails of faded red. 
 Once dyed in precious juice of Tyrian vat, 
 Swelled, sumptuous-breasted, like the bird of Ararat. 
 
 II 
 
 With pillowed shoulders Belisarius dreamed. 
 
 While rhythmic oars propelled the hissing prow. 
 
 Like one renewed in youth the captain seemed 
 
 Glad by his side: But lo! he murmurs now: 
 
 " O wandering wind, whispering around my brow. 
 
 Whence come you with your burden of complaint? 
 
 What message or what mourning bearest thou.^ 
 
 What mean your sighs ? Hast seen his harsh constraint ? 
 
 O speak, if e'er you spoke to oracle or saint." 
 
The Search of BeUsarius 
 
 III 
 
 In years long past his thoughts were wandering. 
 He saw his boy, a baby with his nurse. 
 When he came home from council with the king. 
 War plans to those small ears would he rehearse. 
 Invoke upon the infant head Rome's curse, 
 If he should in her enemies confide 
 And her deceived squadrons meet reverse. 
 Sometimes alone with deep looks he replied. 
 Or leaping, smote his beard and with small laughter 
 cried. 
 
 IV 
 
 He saw the growing boy wax wise and kind, 
 
 With unabashed clear eyes and gentle thought; 
 
 He saw the rich luifolding of his mind 
 
 That gladly learned what those he honored taught. 
 
 For noble visions were his mind's resort; 
 
 His very playthings had high courage earned. 
 
 Trophies of kings with whom his father fought. 
 
 Yes, in his eyes the hero's fire burned. 
 
 But Belisarius sighed and from his dreaming turned. 
 
 74 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 " I feel the burning wind of Africa, 
 The desert's breath blow on me, as of yore 
 It parched us marching in Numidia, 
 When Gelimer's troops fled our arms before. 
 Ho, Gaius ! Can you see the Vandal shore ; 
 The towered palace where we victors dined, 
 A banquet spread for him who came no more? 
 Or find the mountain fortress where he pined? 
 This blast inflames my blood, though I am old and 
 blind." 
 
 VI 
 
 " Yes, Sire, I see land dimly on the right ; 
 
 That cape juts out where we, nigh wrecked, made land 
 
 With anxious hearts one dark and stormy night. 
 
 Carthage was thought secure, a little band 
 
 We warred in Sicily. None could withstand 
 
 Our arms, when sudden news of mutiny 
 
 Was brought. You seized a skiff that came to hand. 
 
 Barely attended dared a raging sea. 
 
 And dawned with quelling glance on their inconstancy." 
 
 75 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 Quick from the rowers came tumultuous cries, 
 *' Glory of Rom.e, Glory of Rome art thou ! 
 Arise, O Belisarius, arise! 
 Complete thy deeds with fmal triumphs now, 
 The crown of Rome is waiting for thy brow ! " 
 Then motionless the oars dripped in the sea. 
 The sails were quickly furled, the foaming prow 
 Swung to the wind and stopped; upon his knee 
 Old Gaius fell and every voice enforced his plea. 
 
 VIII 
 
 " Yes, surely are we blessed above all men 
 
 On w^hom to-day the sun pours down its light. 
 
 For him that heaven sent to rouse again 
 
 Our Rome from out her long and starless night, 
 
 We now can row, as he sits in our sight. 
 
 We now can serve and serve our land as well. 
 
 Glory of Rome, for thee our hands would fight 
 
 New battles waged against those powers of Hell 
 
 That ruled our lives and homes : 'tis time our souls rebel. 
 
 76 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 " O be our king! What matter thou art blind? 
 
 Lo, Buzes, whom the Empress robbed of sight. 
 
 Still led the legions; but be thou our mind 
 
 To plan and rule, we'll be thy hands to fight. 
 
 Rome is thy city by divinest right; 
 
 'Twas thou who saved it from mad, Gothic flame. 
 
 When dull rage menaced it and vengeful spite. 
 
 Constantinople thine arm did reclaim 
 
 From circus mob and Hun, — thou art king but in name. 
 
 " We now are few, but soon a vast array 
 
 Shall flock in arms to thee and for thy cause; 
 
 Bestow their wealth and thy commands obey. 
 
 Justinian gave small help in all thy wars. 
 
 Aye, often victory's outstretched hands did pause 
 
 Held by thinned ranks. The world ne'er saw, till thee. 
 
 One win with so few troops and from the jaws 
 
 Of numbers, pluck the prize by strategy. 
 
 Thy wisdom, daring, swiftness gained us victory." 
 
 77 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XI 
 
 They waited breathless for his lips to speak 
 
 And echo back the cry of their desire. 
 
 Far in his soul their words an answer seek. 
 
 His ears alone feel not their winged fire. 
 
 Should he — cast out and trodden in the mire — 
 
 Rise up at last like the blind Israelite, 
 
 Letting revenge with time and place conspire. 
 
 Supremely prove the giant power they slight, 
 
 And perish with his foes } He spoke with visage bright. 
 
 XII 
 
 ** O God of hosts, at last my hour has come. 
 
 And vengeance beckoning holds her hands to me. 
 
 Bidding me arm to rescue helpless Rome; 
 
 For my own wrongs wreak bloody penalty. 
 
 And pay poor patience coin that all can see. 
 
 Do your swoll'n veins, indeed, hold Roman blood. 
 
 Blood you would shed to reap rich victory? 
 
 Can you continue in this noble mood. 
 
 Until we sweep away the useless, tyrant brood.'' 
 
 78 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 " No ! Such revolt could naught but evil teacli. 
 
 From grade to grade authority is swayed. 
 
 The public weal is reverence due by each 
 
 To those above with heavenly might arrayed. 
 
 And chaos is that power disobeyed. 
 
 My Lord the King still has my loyal heart. 
 
 My pledge that lip and deed alike conveyed 
 
 To make no revolution, nor to part 
 
 His empire while he lived." Afresh their clamors start. 
 
 XIV 
 
 " Our courage is not quenched, Rome still doth stand; 
 Our King forgets; our lords with public spoil 
 Enrich themselves, impoverishing the land; 
 The army, Rome's defense, for all its toil. 
 Is robbed of its just wages; while the coil 
 Of barbarous might is tighter drawn around 
 Our yielding limbs. Soon will our native soil 
 Bear uncouth names, our children's children, bound 
 In liege to foreign lords, be bond-slaves of the ground. 
 
 79 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 "What! Would I plunge the world in greater ill 
 
 To sate my pride, uncertain if release 
 
 Could now be found from various woes that fill 
 
 The state with complications sore? For peace. 
 
 When there are wrongs that threaten to increase, 
 
 Is preferable to war, which oft would seem 
 
 Impatiently to snatch at ill's surcease. 
 
 Majestic time bears on its steady stream. 
 
 Would man but wait and his purged heart redeem. 
 
 XVI 
 
 " 'Tis sweet to feed on praise and men's applause, 
 
 Triumphantly upborne to grasp new bays. 
 
 By arms made willing in successful wars; 
 
 For praise gives power. I've heard one sing his lays 
 
 Before the Queen, until her eyes ablaze, 
 
 Warmed him to raptures of undreamt-of song. 
 
 But it is sweeter living scorned by praise. 
 
 Thrust back where all enduring powers belong, — 
 
 Upon the soul and God, — serene, illumined, strong. 
 
 80 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVII 
 
 "Ah, wretched is the man who has survived 
 
 His power to serve his fellows, and whose deeds, 
 
 A fortress once in which a nation lived. 
 
 Have crumbled to the dust. His country's needs. 
 
 His impotence he mourns; but death still leads 
 
 Him on; he may not turn his wasted da^^s 
 
 To live again, or build the walls that weeds 
 
 Have overcome. Blessed are the blind whose ways 
 
 Are dark, and cannot see the wrongs the world displays. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 " Arms cannot strive against eternal laws. 
 
 And whom God hath dethroned, man cannot crown 
 
 Ensceptred by vain might. So rash are wars 
 
 'Twixt God and man, and armored might overthrown 
 
 At heaven's holy will. Nor can force' frown 
 
 Fright righteousness, triumphant age by age; 
 
 Vain is the spoil, his triumph soon cast down. 
 
 Whose sword has vanquished truth, whose bloody gage 
 
 Is cast at angels' feet in evil's fitful rage. 
 
 81 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIX 
 
 " Inscrutable are heaven's ways to men, 
 
 Unless it be our woes are all deserved. 
 
 And fortune, stricken, never smiles again. 
 
 And bolts that fly from evil's bow, though curved 
 
 In flight o'er many years, at last unswerved 
 
 Descend upon mankind. O fateful flight 
 
 Of wrongs from other years ! The state once nerved 
 
 To justice, conquest, grandeur, — now, sad sight. 
 
 Relaxed, enfeebled, slumbers in unhonored night. 
 
 XX 
 
 " Is there no certain medicine for sin ? 
 
 O Christ, where is the antidote you brought? 
 
 Or had the poison pierced too deep within. 
 
 When our sick state thy gentle presence sought 
 
 And drank thy cup? Must Rome's strength come to 
 
 naught ? 
 Can patriot blood be spilled, and all in vain ? 
 Can that great empire fall our sires bought. 
 And Scipio's, Sulla's, Caesar's, Trajan's gain 
 Be spent, till naught of their rich heritage remain? 
 
 82 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXI 
 
 ** A father's valor cannot save his son. 
 
 Nor buried virtue hinder living vice; 
 
 And woe befalls the empire that begun 
 
 Austerely, reared by long self-sacrifice, 
 
 Wliose wealth and power are the tardy price 
 
 Of moral worth, descends to progeny. 
 
 Who, blind to all that gained their paradise. 
 
 Devour the fruit and sap the golden tree. 
 
 Watered by tears and blood of their stern ancestry. 
 
 XXII 
 
 ** Hell has its laws, as blind old Homer sang. 
 And punishment walks ever with the crime; 
 Above the world the scales of Justice hang. 
 Slow filling till they fall in their due time. 
 The course is finished of our race sublime. 
 Our exaltation droops, for God, I see, 
 Would choose His leaders from another clime. 
 Whose forest strength and northern purity 
 Will crown with hardier virtues a new regency. 
 
 85 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIII 
 
 " Now Rome flows on amid a mighty wreck, 
 
 A shrunken mountain stream, that, in the Spring, 
 
 Rolled down a flood no barrier could check 
 
 And ruled the banks would curb its wandering. 
 
 When August burns and hot cicadas sing 
 
 And wells dry up, the braggart torrent's flow 
 
 Withdraws its marge and its wide governing; 
 
 A plaintive brook it creeps, thin-limbed and slow. 
 
 Past rocks and uptorn trees it once did overthrow. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 " My ears can hear the undertone of life. 
 
 The joy, the woe, the wonder and the prayer, 
 
 I could not hear amid the din of strife. 
 
 My life of action now of deeds is bare. 
 
 And thought and silence are joint rulers there. 
 
 Yes, I can hear afar the triumph-song 
 
 Of ages unoppressed by king or care. 
 
 And I discern a gladly laboring throng. 
 
 Where each bestows his toil as he is wise and strong. 
 
 84 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXV 
 
 " Bid my son learn one lesson from my fall ! 
 
 Mid cries of circling vultures, grunts of swine. 
 
 The taints of tongue which love and faith appall, 
 
 Poisoning men's quarrels, fouling friendship's wine. 
 
 Recrimination's Hell, where no stars shine. 
 
 Bid him be silent ! I would have him still 
 
 As Christ before his judges. Yes, divine 
 
 In being dumb, whom guiltless they would kill. 
 
 Who saw no right on earth, and waited God's good-will. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 ** So take you oars for me nor wish them spears. 
 
 This is a time to bear and not to do; 
 
 But keep large-hearted till the hour appears 
 
 When Rome's dimmed name ye can again renew." 
 
 He finished and a moan burst from the crew. 
 
 The clattering oars splashed nerveless in the wave. 
 
 " Ah, life to us is darker than to you. 
 
 Who speak with awful tone as from the grave; 
 
 Yet will not up and arm, your pleading land to save. 
 
 85 
 
The Search of Belisariiis 
 
 XXVII 
 
 *' We love that man whom place cannot adorn. 
 Who baffles honors by his brighter face. 
 And, pedestaled on deeds, beholds with scorn 
 That wreath the world on tip-toe strains to place 
 Upon his brow. And yet Rome's crown can grace 
 White temples pure as thine; for it was won 
 By mighty dead of high, immortal race. 
 They call to you, their last remaining son, 
 To save and raise the state by heroes' toil begun.** 
 
 XXVIII 
 
 Then Caius spoke: "See, master, yonder sail 
 Deep-hulled Calabrian ships, filled full of grain 
 To feed the Emperor's store. Should they but fail 
 To land their golden freight, panic would reign 
 And hunger pinch the mob, naught could restrain 
 From wide revolt. I know who sail in these; 
 Each prow would turn and follow in thy train. 
 War's joys would substitute for traffic ease. 
 Were thy great name and need borne to them on the 
 breeze.** 
 
 86 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIX 
 
 " Dost thou forget so soon, thou eagle-eyed. 
 
 My eyes are curtained in Cimmerian night. 
 
 No sailor asks sheer darkness for his guide — 
 
 Who cannot see could never lead aright. 
 
 What would you do? those toiling thousands blight; 
 
 Fatten my fame on others* famishing? 
 
 Too much vain blood I've shed to trust in might. 
 
 Truth must prevail as flowers are born in Spring, 
 
 By its own life from God, bloom a victorious thing." 
 
 XXX 
 
 The grain-ships with slow oarage' measured gleam. 
 
 Sailed out of reach of signal or halloo: 
 
 The rowers rowed like men roused from a dream, 
 
 A glory gone time never would renew. 
 
 As from a temple, the high service through. 
 
 White choirs proceed, chanting a sweet refrain. 
 
 And with far, fainter voices, pass from view; 
 
 The worshipers rapt each in heaven remain, 
 
 Then, in the stillness, wake to life's chiU touch again. 
 
 87 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART VI 
 
 A road ascended from Cilicia's fens 
 To gain the mountains, sought in summer days 
 For cool resort by seaport citizens. 
 A winding road, whose leaf-embowered ways 
 Caught frequent glimpses of the sea's bright gaze. 
 Here Belisarius climbed, for he had heard. 
 Through secret source though certain, news to raise 
 Assurance of sweet meeting long deferred; 
 And now he seeks the tryst of which they brought him 
 word. 
 
 II 
 
 From out a cavern came a holy man. 
 
 Emaciate, cowled, unkempt, and woebegone. 
 
 And kneeling at a cross, his prayer began. 
 
 The saddest man he seemed the sun shone on; 
 
 For food he cared not, nor rich dress to don; 
 
 But prayed, toiled, fasted that he might o'ercome 
 
 All fleshly lusts and, in his fight, had won. 
 
 As weak and wan he was as Saint Jerome, 
 
 Who in the cave at Bethlehem, once made his home. 
 
 88 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 His eyes were open, but he did not see 
 
 The sky above, the blue flood far below. 
 
 As through an open door he saw but Thee, 
 
 O Father, who all hearts and secrets know. 
 
 Speechless he gazed, his prayer was oftenest so. 
 
 Then, as a shadow blots a summer day. 
 
 His rapture faded back to earth and woe. 
 
 His startled ear had heard, to his dismay, 
 
 A groping step that climbed his steep and unused way. 
 
 IV 
 
 Dazed with his vision was the holy man. 
 But statelier bearing had he never seen 
 And nobler features did he never scan 
 Than his, who now advanced with lordly mien. 
 A heavenly visitor he might have been; 
 Bare was his snowy head, his feet were bare; 
 From neck to knee a tunic, rent and mean. 
 Girt at his supple waist, and hanging there, 
 A helmet, gold-embossed, fit for a king to wear. 
 
 89 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 A sapling staff now in his hand he bore. 
 That, swinging here and there, free passage found. 
 Through which he moved along with footstep sore. 
 This sight the simple monk did so astound, 
 That by the cross he knelt as though spellbound. 
 If not from heaven, on earth there was but one 
 The visitor could be, so visibly renowned. 
 He straightway rose and reverent as a son. 
 Saluted and embraced Rome's loved, lost champion. 
 
 VI 
 
 ** Is this that Belisarius the great. 
 
 Swift conqueror of nations Rome had lost. 
 
 The very wall and weapon of the state; 
 
 Whose patriot plans were by suspicion crossed. 
 
 Whose deeds were blackened by disfavor's frost? 
 
 A lonely man am I who speak to thee. 
 
 Would I could talk with tongues of Pentecost, 
 
 So I might tell thee of my sympathy; 
 
 For God it was, I know, who led thy steps to me. 
 
 90 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 " I welcome thee to a rich solitude ; 
 Rest for thy body and thy soul is here. 
 The fickle world these heights will not intrude. 
 Naught from its favor or its scorn I fear. 
 And thou who in the wide world had no peer, 
 In power, wealth, or honor save the king, 
 Hast found triumphal garlands harsh and sere. 
 Soon plucked away, a moment's offering. 
 Now that ambition mocks thee, seek what prayer will 
 bring." 
 
 VIII 
 
 Then Belisarius musing, spoke at length. 
 
 " O man of God, thou'rt wise I make no doubt. 
 
 To flee foes that outnumber thy frail strength. 
 
 Lest they o'erwhelm thee in disastrous rout. 
 
 Prayer is a deed no man can do without. 
 
 Our senses, too, would swill themselves like swine; 
 
 While vanity and pride drive us about. 
 
 Absorbed in self, forgetting the divine. 
 
 Yes, gladly one would find calm worship such as thine. 
 
 91 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 ** I have not lived in warfare not to learn 
 
 To stand where others flee, to dare their dread. 
 
 Cool mutiny to well-armed zeal, nor turn. 
 
 Disheartened, when the timid round me fled. 
 
 Love, fame, applause; and worse, power, gold have sped 
 
 Men toward great deeds : but God is often pleased 
 
 To snatch the spur that drove a man ahead. 
 
 Then bid him win. The prize He does not seize. 
 
 Life knows, I think, no failure but a soul diseased. 
 
 *' No, I must follow my own glimpse of God, 
 Which bids me not with laceration rude. 
 And self-infliction's penitential rod, 
 Nor fasting from the earth's more gracious food. 
 Find heaven in hungry weakness' passive mood. 
 Poor soldiers they against the power of Hell, 
 Who hide in cave or desert, when the brood 
 Assailing Heaven scorn walls. No! fight their spell 
 In life's least duty, rather than in lonely cell. 
 
 92 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XI 
 
 ** That slave I should esteem of little worth. 
 To meet the Vandal, through the Goths advance. 
 Or shield Rome's tenderness from the grim north. 
 Who in his master's courtyard threw a lance. 
 Or pranced against the boys with threatening glance. 
 And jumped or ran or shot his bow in air. 
 For war sweeps on with other circumstance. 
 Isaurians, who their mountain perils dare. 
 Are our best soldiers, God's are those their homes pre- 
 pare. 
 
 XII 
 
 ** In Italy I once met Benedict, 
 
 Who loved good learning and humanity. 
 
 And held his household to a rule most strict; 
 
 He was as godly man as well could be. 
 
 And yet, for all of that, I'd rather see, 
 
 Full in the midst of life and all its dust, 
 
 A man win heaven and immortality, — 
 
 As husband, father, friend, and subject just, — 
 
 Finding each task a shrine, willing in God to trust. 
 
 93 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 Although the monk his .own vexed body fought. 
 
 He had some common food his need required. 
 
 And this to Belisarius he brought. 
 
 Who with the long ascent was faint and tired. 
 
 A heavenly gentleness his heart inspired 
 
 To give refreshment to his warrior guest. 
 
 Who soon with restless energy seemed fired 
 
 Impatient to pursue his brightening quest; 
 
 Until the goal was won, there was no time for rest. 
 
 XIV 
 
 " Why should you wish the child to be alive ? 
 Happy is he to whom the world is dead. 
 Have you secured the gauds for which men strive. 
 That now you wish to place them on his head.'* 
 Who dare bequeath his days, could they be read. 
 To one he loved .^ To foes they might apply. 
 Who could, when daily his own heart has bled. 
 Presume, forgetful, for sons' sons to sigh. 
 When disappointment with himself had better die ? 
 
 94 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 " Pain is the lot of man, his constant state. 
 Pleasure his rare release. Unsatisfied 
 Desire and longing never slaked his fate. 
 Ambitious flutterings, heavenly flight denied; 
 His life is spent in struggles multiplied 
 To stop some clamorous need, or ease some pain. 
 The best the world has seen was crucified. 
 Then how can we exempt from woe remain. 
 When He, the Holy One, though innocent was slain ? 
 
 XVI 
 
 ** Forget your loss ; worship the King of kings ; 
 
 Win Heaven's love now, who conquered earth below. 
 
 Then God will mitigate your sufferings 
 
 And change to gladness what were else your woe." 
 
 But Belisarius answered him: "Ah, no, 
 
 I am too old thus to forget my son; 
 
 Youth's sorrows pass. With age it is not so. 
 
 Though memory may fail of great deeds done. 
 
 Grief, loyal to white locks, stays when pale pleasures run. 
 
 95 
 
The Search of Beli sarins 
 
 XVII 
 
 *' You live for self and call it soul. No ! No ! 
 Dull not my woes by balm of others' pain. 
 No private gloom shall its black mantle throw 
 O'er life itself, where light seems most to reign. 
 Great God, what wonders earth and sky contain! 
 The patient beauty of the land and sea, 
 That meekly waits like a forgotten fane 
 To bless who comes; and our humanity 
 Heroic, lovable when lit by gleams of Thee. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 " Nature knows best, who bids us find our joy 
 
 In lives united that new lives produce. 
 
 And nature now impels me seek my boy: 
 
 A father's love and hope need no excuse. 
 
 If love can from a youth's hot heart break loose. 
 
 And, searching, find incarnate its desire. 
 
 Sweet form and soul, a heaven for earthly use. 
 
 Shall not his prayer and loathing of life's mire. 
 
 Beget a race to help God's plan and bless its sire.^ 
 
 96 
 
The Search of Beli sarins 
 
 XIX 
 
 " Even pain, I think, may be the firmer clasp 
 Of some strong hand thrust out to rescue us. 
 Whose rugged might encloses in its grasp 
 Our weaker fibre, till we timorous. 
 Blind to our need and frail to be held thus. 
 Cry out in fear. As when a boy holds tight 
 An unfledged bird, quaking and querulous, 
 WTiose yellow throat pours out its pain and fright. 
 To thrust back in the nest it could not gain by flight. 
 
 XX 
 
 " What life is for, nor monks nor men can tell; 
 Its origin and end we do not know; 
 And Heaven is incredible as Hell, 
 Unless in both, it suits the soul to grow. 
 But we can worship life — this life below — 
 And most the consciousness called you and I — 
 That magic mirror with the endless show. 
 A soldier.' Yes. Yet I hold life so high, 
 Xo man, I think, diseased, wronged, starved, should ask 
 to die. 
 
 97 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXI 
 
 ** High on the jungled mountains of far Ind, 
 
 Which face the peaks of everlasting snow. 
 
 Tall, yellow grasses, shaking in the wind. 
 
 Wave paper prayers of pilgrims to and fro. 
 
 Incessant as the very winds that blow. 
 
 They signal heaven and give their gods no rest. 
 
 Some mind's impatient thirst, a soul's deep woe. 
 
 Remorse too keen for lodgment in the breast. 
 
 Make dumb demand by day and night that they be blest. 
 
 XXII 
 
 " But every leaf the summer breezes twirl. 
 
 Dappled with sunlight, glistening after rain; 
 
 Sweet purple clover that warm zephyrs curl. 
 
 To tease the tilting butterfly of gain; 
 
 The yellow swaying of the gust-swept grain; 
 
 The wing-stirred alders by still meadow stream, 
 
 Are heavenly comforters of human pain — 
 
 God's call to man direct, as was no dream 
 
 Or awful voice to ancient prophets, as I deem." 
 
 98 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIII 
 
 " Listen, great Belisarius, cans't thou hear, 
 Above the murmur of the brook and trees. 
 Up from the high-road, as the troop draws near, 
 A pious chanting, wafted on the breeze ? 
 Men's voices like to yours and mine are these. 
 Of flesh and blood, of mortal, sinful birth. 
 They have surrendered that which others seize; 
 Trampled what you are seeking; sought life's dearth. 
 And lightly scale high heaven, discarding things of 
 earth." 
 
 A Procession of Monks in the distance chanting. 
 
 Hail! Holy Mother, 
 Ruler of Heaven, 
 Light of pure bosoms. 
 Giver of peace! 
 
 See our starved bodies' 
 Rough, ragged raiment! 
 Our weary eyelids. 
 Our naked feet! 
 
 We have left all things. 
 Parents, wives, children; 
 Labor that blessed them. 
 Love's anxious pride. 
 QQ 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 Earth is behind us. 
 Heaven before us. 
 Steep is the pathway. 
 Dim is thy face. 
 
 Yet we behold thee. 
 Far in the heavens. 
 Mother of Jesus, 
 
 Mother of God. 
 
 XXIV 
 
 When he would stay no longer and was fed, 
 
 The monk clasped gently one unconquered wrist. 
 
 And down the mountain-side his slow steps led, 
 
 Until the road was gained the wanderer missed. 
 
 Which now ere long would bring him to his tryst. 
 
 The monk did not for pleasant converse lack; 
 
 But when they came where travellers passed, he kissed 
 
 The hand he held and sadly turned him back 
 
 To heaven and God along his rough and single track. 
 
 100 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 PART VII 
 
 I 
 
 A meadow humbled by surrounding hills^ 
 
 But gay with common flowers and feathery grass, 
 
 Where early shadows drive away day's ills. 
 
 And sweet night lingers — ^night too brief, alas ! 
 
 Aroimd the edge, a brook's still waters pass. 
 
 Like brown hair curling on a shawl of green. 
 
 And flows into a pond as smooth as glass. 
 
 Reflecting forests in its silver sheen. 
 
 Save where a sandy beach is bare of leafy screen. 
 
 II 
 
 Here of a summer noon, their home tasks done. 
 
 Boys come to bathe and bask in naked ease. 
 
 Brown-bodied from bare challenge of the sun: 
 
 They dive and swim, or rest with wet, clasped knees, — 
 
 Thin, glistening bodies, stroked by gentle breeze. 
 
 Some skip smooth stones; some tiny galleys sail; 
 
 Run races in the grass, or bend lithe trees. 
 
 Their shouts and splashes echoing in the vale. 
 
 Rouse the lone heron's flight and drive the startled quail. 
 
 101 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 III 
 
 Upon this scene blind Belisarius strayed. 
 
 Along a road that crossed the winding brook. 
 
 He heard loud laughter where the bathers played. 
 
 And stopped — his wont, when children he o'ertook. 
 
 With jest they greeted him and saucy look; 
 
 But when they saw his eyes that could not see. 
 
 His soldier mien and how his great hands shook. 
 
 They led him to a bank beneath a tree 
 
 And begged him tell them tales and clung about his knee. 
 
 IV 
 
 ** Children ! What tale shall I tell ? Shall it be 
 Of athletes, horses, war? Of young men strong 
 Of arm to loose our bows' dread archery; 
 Their life a restless dream to right the wrong. 
 And gild dull days with deeds worthy of song; 
 Seated between arched necks and flowing tails. 
 Of young horses — trained without bit or thong. 
 To follow swift arrows? Of Balan? Time fails 
 To tell you aught of him." A shout his subject hails. 
 
 102 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 I never saw how Cato, quitting Spain, 
 Could leave his horse behind, to save the state 
 His keep and carriage home. The mighty mane, 
 For battle braided, — tail one shining plait — 
 Torn by a huckster's harness; his high gait 
 Starved to a goaded crawl until he dies. 
 Black Balan, with his star, was worth his weight 
 In coin stamped with kings' heads : so brave and wise, 
 He Belisarius saved, when foes thought him their 
 prize ! 
 
 VI 
 
 ** Our general, once holding Rome — the Goth 
 Driven north, soon to return and Rome invest — 
 A tower by Tiber built — fort, picket, both. 
 One morning he designed this place to test 
 By sudden visit. So he chose the best 
 Of his own guard, all horse, and started out. 
 I feel — yes, now — our leader's gleaming crest. 
 Dash wayside, almond blossoms; hear our shout. 
 And smell the brown, spring earth delved in by sodden 
 lout. 
 
 103 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 VII 
 
 *' When we approached the tower, to our surprise, 
 We saw it swarm with Goths. Our men had fled. 
 Nay! worse, as soon we found. Before our eyes 
 They hurried forth, by Gothic chieftains led. 
 To bar retreat and capture our rash head. 
 But we pushed on against their traitor bands 
 And barbarous ranks. Swift, sure our arrows sped. 
 To keep them where they could not use their hands. 
 Or even reach their spears and dart their deadly brands. 
 
 VIII 
 
 " In vain ! Too few, we soon were close engaged. 
 They clutched our horse, like hounds a huntsman cheers. 
 We drove on madly, like wild beasts enraged. 
 Stricken on thighs and faces with their spears. 
 One cry they gave brought dread to Roman ears. 
 Deserters, pointing, shouted : * That is he — 
 That Belisarius, where Balan rears. 
 Seize him! Slay him! His army then will flee. 
 And Gothic kings forever reign in Italy.' 
 
 104 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 IX 
 
 " At last our lances tamed their wild attack 
 And drove them to their camp^ with many slain. 
 But reinforced, they turned and faced us back, 
 Across the battle-strewn and dusty plain — 
 Their fresh arms made our morning victory vain. 
 Here was a mess for Belisarius! 
 Could our outnumbered ranks retreat maintain. 
 Until Rome's walls once more safe-harbored us? 
 Then scoffed their tallest chieftain Bandalarius. 
 
 X 
 
 " * Glory of Rome ! You've seen the last of Rome 
 And Rome of you. Yes, now our women haste 
 To right our houses for our coming home. 
 And bake small feasts of what you did not waste. 
 From loved hands, frugal food is sweet to taste. 
 To-night they'll sit and cheer us as we eat. 
 With arms about us, hearing how we chased 
 Sly Belisarius to death's defeat — 
 How Gothic chiefs Byzantium's strategy did cheat. 
 
 105 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XI 
 
 " On every side we fought, but moved one way ; 
 For foot by foot we backed o'er bloody ground, 
 Desperate to reach the city walls by day. 
 And not, at night, outside the gates be found. 
 At dusk, far off we heard the church bells' sound. 
 And when at last we gained our goal, — the gate 
 Was shut, barred, bolted, and though spears did pound. 
 And hoarse throats shout, its hinges did not grate: 
 The walls of Rome heard not and left us to our fate. 
 
 XII 
 
 ** Our comrades, safe within, supposed us dead. 
 
 And peering at us, could not recognize 
 
 Our faces, Belisarius' bare head. 
 
 Blood, sweat, and dirt had fashioned such disguise. 
 
 They guessed us Goths bent on a night surprise. 
 
 While we were penned between the Goths and gate. 
 
 New enemies upon the walls arise. 
 
 Our friends, turned foes, dropped stones upon our pate. 
 
 If bad before, our plight was now thrice desperate. 
 
 106 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIII 
 
 '* Three things we could attempt. Fight with our friends 
 — Win Rome from Romans — a most hopeless thought; 
 Or laugh that at Rome's gate Death gained his ends ; 
 At last, ensnared in this black pit, had caught 
 Heroes of many wars he long had sought; 
 Or turn again against vainglorious foes. 
 Yes, Belisarius turned! Ah! how he fought 
 In that dark tangle, cleaved where dimly rose 
 Horsed Bandalarius, whom swords and spears enclose. 
 
 XIV 
 
 " The world stood still while those two champions 
 
 joined; 
 Kings waked from evil dreams with moist-browed fear 
 Of soldiers' tools that roofs of states engroined. 
 Snapping and cracking, horrible to hear. 
 Earth's future hung upon one sword, one spear; 
 Two men, two horses, for two kings contest. 
 The rhymers tell j^ou how such things appear, 
 * Like jaguar and lion clutched they wrest. 
 Till Belisarius clove the brave Goth through the crest.* 
 
 107 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XV 
 
 Their leader stricken, still we should have lost 
 Had not our remnant matched our general's might. 
 Willing to die, but win at any cost. 
 Ha ! ha ! with such new courage did we fight. 
 The Goths thought reinforcement stopped our flight. 
 Now recognized by those upon the wall. 
 Above the gate a fire's helpful light 
 Showed piles of dead — fallen horses' human stall — 
 While wounded from both troops for friendly succor 
 call." 
 
 XVI 
 
 " Few entered Rome who had, at dawn, gone out. 
 And they crawled, bowed and bloody, helped by friends. 
 Yet still had breath to raise the victors' shout. 
 As Belisarius to walls attends. 
 
 Builds fires — for light better than arms defends — 
 Posts guards, bids captains not to leave their gate. 
 Then goes to bed — and so my story ends. 
 No! Bandalarius found — a hero's fate! — 
 Three days among the dead, revived and serves the 
 state." 
 
 108 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XVII 
 
 The story done, one boy with eyes ablaze. 
 
 And cheeks aflame, broke the hushed awe and cried: 
 
 ** I, too, have seen the Balan whom you praise. 
 
 He who saved Rome and tanned the Goths' rough hide, 
 
 Was my dear father. Oft I used to ride 
 
 Before him, clutching in his horse's mane." 
 
 He got no further, for with arms held wide, 
 
 The blind man sprang, eyes staring, but in vain. 
 
 And groping, clasped the boy, until he paled with pain. 
 
 XVIII 
 
 The listening boys amazed at this strange sight 
 And living in the scenes that filled their mind — 
 Alarms, death, captures of that famous fight — 
 In fright dashed off, and mocking called behind: 
 " Old crazy-man ! Boy-stealer ! Shamming blind ! 
 At any rate the story now was done. 
 So off they go some other play to find. 
 Or, late from lingering, to their mothers run. 
 And Belisarius leave, clasping his long-lost son. 
 
 109 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XIX 
 
 The silent soldier babbled like a nurse 
 
 To the fond ears that on his shoulder lay, 
 
 Recounting all the stories of my verse. 
 
 The weary search and happenings by the way. 
 
 But now he fears the world and its bright day 
 
 Again may steal his sight — two winning eyes. 
 
 And funny lips to laugh, or kiss or pray. 
 
 That gasped out " Father " in sharp, dread surprise. 
 
 So Belisarius rose to flee where safety lies. 
 
 XX 
 
 ** My child, — my life and wealth and honors, — all 
 Old age from love and deeds has harvested; 
 You raise me higher than men's woes can fall. 
 But you are weary and your curly head 
 Hangs heavy on my shoulder. Have you said 
 All words in one, blotting the past from ken ? 
 While youth like Spring is all about me shed. 
 Sleep till we meet a laughing child, and then 
 Thou'lt catch, perhaps, the trick of happiness again. 
 
 110 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXI 
 
 Above a city gate a tower rose, 
 
 The station of an ancient sentinel. 
 
 Whose wounded limbs in age found there repose. 
 
 He now peered forth as evening shadows fell. 
 
 " Ah, dozing age has cast on me its spell. 
 
 With dreams of youth it now perplexes me. 
 
 Alas, that noble form I once knew well. 
 
 'Tis Belisarius, in truth, I see; 
 
 And in his arms he bears a lad contentedly." 
 
 XXII 
 
 Down from his station crept the aged man — 
 
 With limping footsteps even haste is slow — 
 
 But cold as Scythian streams his thin blood ran. 
 
 For on the boy's bare foot an asp's eyes glow. 
 
 " Great chief ! O mighty general ! You know 
 
 Not what you bear, I think, unless you take 
 
 The child to burial and smile at woe. 
 
 Blank are his eyes as thine, a bright-eyed snake 
 
 Hath charmed his lids asleep, nor will they ever wake.* 
 
 Ill 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXIII 
 
 ** Dead ! Do my wanderings end in clasping death ? 
 
 Dead! I could hear death sung by chanting choir. 
 
 Or trace a stone that told he lay beneath. 
 
 What load is this I bear? A stringless lyre,^ 
 
 Whose last sweet tones among the stars expire. 
 
 What do I bear? Will he not call again? 
 
 Surely it was his voice I heard inquire. 
 
 Must that one word console my heart's long pain ? 
 
 In life's confusion could not that small voice remain? 
 
 XXIV 
 
 *' I heard his voice and his eyes saw me come — 
 I kissed his lips and bore him on my breast. 
 God! such a treasure can a worm steal from 
 A father's arms ? Must this, then, end my quest^ 
 My jewel lost while I the casket pressed? 
 What form is it I feel, heavy and cold? 
 O may I not still bear you in your rest ? 
 No, as you sleep your limbs I cannot hold; 
 In this long night the green earth must her child en- 
 fold. 
 
 112 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXV 
 
 " A mother's softness should embrace you now. 
 
 Her hungry eyes feed famished on your face, 
 
 Her lips a last time kiss this chilly brow. 
 
 Her hands caress this marble cheek's spent grace; 
 
 Instead, poor child, you have my blind embrace. 
 
 With joy she bore you quickening to the birth; 
 
 Now dead I bear you to a funeral place. 
 
 My heavy woe and her tear-conquering mirth. 
 
 Alike yield you to God who knows your tongueless worth. 
 
 XXVI 
 
 " No more shall blood of mine battle with life, 
 Nor in the times to come mix in fierce fight 
 For king or state. No fair-faced maid or wife 
 Shall stretch to you white arms, strong with delight. 
 Or weave dark webs, when love has taken flight. 
 The sun and moon no more shall bless my seed; 
 Nor will I wish the dead have power of sight. 
 To see men wayfaring. So ends my breed; 
 From it shall come, while the world lasts, no word, no 
 deed." 
 
 113 
 
The Search of Belisarius 
 
 XXVII 
 
 Beneath the wall they loosed a massive stone. 
 The slender form, wrapped in a mantle white. 
 They there entombed with many a piteous moan. 
 As one by one the stars came with the night. 
 Then sought they both the tower's lonely height. 
 Some say that Belisarius rested there, 
 Till to the child his spirit took its flight. 
 Some say Justinian thither did repair. 
 Repentant, bowed, to comfort him with loving care. 
 
 THE END 
 
 114 
 
OEC 19 190*