The engines of her pain, the tools That shaped her sorrow, rocks and pools, And airs that gently stir The vernal leaves, she loved them still, Nor ever taxed them with the ill A Barn her winter bed supplies; (And all do in this tale agree) She sleeps beneath the greenwood tree, And other home hath none. An innocent life, yet far astray! And Ruth will, long before her day, Be broken down and old: Sore aches she needs must have! but less Of mind, than body's wretchedness, From damp, and rain, and cold. If she is prest by want of food, And there she begs at one steep place That oaten Pipe of hers is mute, This flute, made of a hemlock stalk, I, too, have passed her on the hills Farewell! and when thy days are told, For thee a funeral bell shall ring, XXV. LAODAMÍ A. "WITH sacrifice before the rising morn Restore him to my sight-great Jove, restore!" So speaking, and by fervent love endowed With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands; While, like the Sun emerging from a Cloud, Her countenance brightens and her eye expands; Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows ; And she expects the issue in repose. O terror! what hath she perceived? — O joy! What doth she look on? whom doth she behold? Her hero slain upon the beach of Troy? His vital presence It is - if sense deceive her not 'tis He! And a God leads him — winged Mercury! Mild Hermes spake — and touched her with his wand Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air: Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp ; "Protesiláus, lo! thy guide is gone! "Great Jove, Laodamía! doth not leave And something also did my worth obtain ; "Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand 66 Supreme of Heroes bravest, noblest, best! Which then, when tens of thousands were deprest - and I forgive thee here thou art A nobler counsellor than my poor heart. "But thou, though capable of sternest deed, As when their breath enriched Thessalian air. "No Spectre greets me, -no vain Shadow this; Jove frowned in heaven: the conscious Parce threw "This visage tells thee that my doom is past: And surely as they vanish. — Earth destroys "Be taught, O faithful Consort, to control Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn "Ah, wherefore? - Did not Hercules by force Wrest from the guardian Monster of the tomb Alcestis, a reanimated Corse, Given back to dwell on earth in vernal bloom? "The Gods to us are merciful - and they Yet further may relent: for mightier far Is love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favourite seat be feeble Woman's breast. "But if thou goest, I follow ""Peace!" he said. She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered; In his deportment, shape, and mien, appeared Brought from a pensive though a happy place. He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel VOL. 11. E |