Bridges Robert

The Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Excluding the Eight Dramas


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sent me hither is I that come.

       Serv. I smell the matter—thou wouldst serve the house?

       Pr. 'Twas for that very cause I fled my own. 131

       Serv. From cruelty or fear of punishment?

       Pr. Cruel was my master, for he slew his father.{7}

       His punishments thou speakest of are crimes.

       Serv. Thou dost well flying one that slew his father.

       Pr. Thy lord, they say, is kind.

       Serv. Well, thou wilt see

       Thou may'st at once begin—come, give a hand.

       Pr. A day of freedom is a day of pleasure:

       And what thou doest have I never done,

       And understanding not might mar thy work. 140

       Serv. Ay true—there is a right way and a wrong

       In laying wood.

       Pr. Then let me see thee lay it:

       The sight of a skill'd hand will teach an art.

       Serv. Thou seest this faggot which I now unbind,

       How it is packed within.

       Pr. I see the cones

       And needles of the fir, which by the wind

       In melancholy places ceaselessly

       Sighing are strewn upon the tufted floor.

       Serv. These took I from a sheltered bank, whereon

       The sun looks down at noon; for there is need 150

       The things be dry. These first I spread; and then

       Small sticks that snap i' the hand.

       Pr. Such are enough

       To burden the slow flight of labouring rooks,

       When on the leafless tree-tops in young March

       Their glossy herds assembling soothe the air

       With cries of solemn joy and cawings loud.

       And such the long-necked herons will bear to mend

       Their airy platform, when the loving spring

       Bids them take thought for their expected young.

       Serv. See even so I cross them and cross them so: 160

       Larger and by degrees a steady stack

       Have built, whereon the heaviest logs may lie:

       And all of sun-dried wood: and now 'tis done.

       Pr. And now 'tis done, what means it now 'tis done?

       Serv. Well, thus 'tis rightly done: but why 'tis so{8}

       I cannot tell, nor any man here knows;

       Save that our master when he sacrificeth,

       As thou wilt hear anon, speaketh of fire;

       And fire he saith is good for gods and men;

       And the gods have it and men have it not: 170

       And then he prays the gods to send us fire;

       And we, against they send it, must have wood

       Laid ready thus as I have shewn thee here.

       Pr. To-day he sacrificeth?

       Serv. Ay, this noon.

       Hark! hear'st thou not? they come. The solemn flutes

       Warn us away; we must not here be seen

       In these our soilèd habits, yet may stand

       Where we may hear and see and not be seen.

      [Exeunt R.

      Enter CHORUS, and from the palace Inachus bearing cakes: he comes to stand behind the altar.

      CHORUS.

      God of Heaven!

       We praise thee, Zeus most high, 180

       To whom by eternal Fate was given

       The range and rule of the sky;

       When thy lot, first of three

       Leapt out, as sages tell,

       And won Olympus for thee,

       Therein for ever to dwell:

       But the next with the barren sea

       To grave Poseidôn fell,

       And left fierce Hades his doom, to be

       The lord and terror of hell. 190

       (2) Thou sittest for aye

       Encircled in azure bright,

       Regarding the path of the sun by day,

       And the changeful moon by night:{9}

       Attending with tireless ears

       To the song of adoring love,

       With which the separate spheres

       Are voicèd that turn above:

       And all that is hidden under

       The clouds thy footing has furl'd 200

       Fears the hand that holdeth the thunder,

       The eye that looks on the world.

      Semichorus of youths.

      Of all the isles of the sea

       Is Crete most famed in story:

       Above all mountains famous to me

       Is Ida and crowned with glory.

       There guarded of Heaven and Earth

       Came Rhea at fall of night

       To hide a wondrous birth

       From the Sire's unfathering sight. 210

       The halls of Cronos rang

       With omens of coming ill,

       And the mad Curêtes danced and sang

       Adown the slopes of the hill.

       Then all the peaks of Gnossus kindled red

       Beckoning afar unto the sinking sun,

       he thro' the vaporous west plunged to his bed,

       Sunk, and the day was done.

       But they, though he was fled,

       Such light still held, as oft 220

       Hanging in air aloft,

       At eve from shadowed ship

       The Egyptian sailor sees:

       Or like the twofold tip

       That o'er the topmost trees

       Flares on Parnassus, and the Theban dames

       Quake at the ghostly flames.{10}

       Then friendly night arose

       To succour Earth, and spread

       Her mantle o'er the snows 230

       And quenched their rosy red;

       But in the east upsprings

       Another light on them,

       Selêné with white wings

       And hueless diadem.

       Little could she befriend

       Her father's house and state,

       Nor her weak beams defend

       Hyperion from his fate.

       Only where'er she shines, 240

       In terror looking forth,

       She sees the wailing pines