Yet thine heart shall wax heavy with sighs and thine eyelids with tears.
1850
Wilt thou cover thine hair with gold, and with silver thy feet?
Hast thou taken the purple to fold thee, and made thy mouth sweet?
Behold, when thy face is made bare, he that loved thee shall hate;
Thy face shall be no more fair at the fall of thy fate.
For thy life shall fall as a leaf and be shed as the rain;
And the veil of thine head shall be grief; and the crown shall be pain.
ALTHÆA
Ho, ye that wail, and ye that sing, make way
Till I be come among you. Hide your tears,
Ye little weepers, and your laughing lips,
Ye laughers for a little; lo mine eyes
1860
That outweep heaven at rainiest, and my mouth
That laughs as gods laugh at us. Fate’s are we,
Yet fate is ours a breathing-space; yea, mine,
Fate is made mine for ever; he is my son,
My bedfellow, my brother. You strong gods,
Give place unto me; I am as any of you,
To give life and to take life. Thou, old earth,
That hast made man and unmade; thou whose mouth
Looks red from the eaten fruits of thine own womb;
Behold me with what lips upon what food
1870
I feed and fill my body; even with flesh
Made of my body. Lo, the fire I lit
I burn with fire to quench it; yea, with flame
I burn up even the dust and ash thereof.
CHORUS
Woman, what fire is this thou burnest with?
ALTHÆA
Yea to the bone, yea to the blood and all.
CHORUS
For this thy face and hair are as one fire.
ALTHÆA
A tongue that licks and beats upon the dust.
CHORUS
And in thine eyes are hollow light and heat.
ALTHÆA
Of flame not fed with hand or frankincense.
CHORUS
1880
I fear thee for the trembling of thine eyes.
ALTHÆA
Neither with love they tremble nor for fear.
CHORUS
And thy mouth shuddering like a shot bird.
ALTHÆA
Not as the bride’s mouth when man kisses it.
CHORUS
Nay, but what thing is this thing thou hast done?
ALTHÆA
Look, I am silent, speak your eyes for me.
CHORUS
I see a faint fire lightening from the hall.
ALTHÆA
Gaze, stretch your eyes, strain till the lids drop off.
CHORUS
Flushed pillars down the flickering vestibule.
ALTHÆA
Stretch with your necks like birds: cry, chirp as they.
CHORUS
1890
And a long brand that blackens: and white dust.
ALTHÆA
O children, what is this ye see? your eyes
Are blinder than night’s face at fall of moon.
That is my son, my flesh, my fruit of life,
My travail, and the year’s weight of my womb,
Meleager, a fire enkindled of mine hands
And of mine hands extinguished; this is he.
CHORUS
O gods, what word has flown out at thy mouth?
ALTHÆA
I did this and I say this and I die.
CHORUS
Death stands upon the doorway of thy lips
1900
And in thy mouth has death set up his house.
ALTHÆA
O death, a little, a little while, sweet death,
Until I see the brand burnt down and die.
CHORUS
She reels as any reed under the wind,
And cleaves unto the ground with staggering feet.
ALTHÆA
Girls, one thing will I say and hold my peace.
I that did this will weep not nor cry out,
Cry ye and weep: I will not call on gods,
Call ye on them; I will not pity man,
Shew ye your pity. I know not if I live;
1910
Save that I feel the fire upon my face
And on my cheek the burning of a brand.
Yea the smoke bites me, yea I drink the steam
With nostril and with eyelid and with lip
Insatiate and intolerant; and mine hands
Burn, and fire feeds upon mine eyes; I reel
As one made drunk with living, whence he draws
Drunken delight; yet I, though mad for joy,
Loathe my long living and am waxen red
As with the shadow of shed blood; behold,
1920
I am kindled with the flames that fade in him,
I am swollen with subsiding of his veins,
I am flooded with his ebbing; my lit eyes
Flame with the falling fire that leaves his lids
Bloodless; my cheek is luminous with blood
Because his face is ashen. Yet, O child,
Son, first-born, fairest – O sweet mouth, sweet eyes,
That drew my life out through my suckling breast,
That shone and clove mine heart through – O soft knees
Clinging, O tender treadings of soft feet,
1930
Cheeks warm with little kissings – O child, child,
What have we made each other? Lo, I felt
Thy weight cleave to me, a burden of beauty, O son,
Thy cradled brows and loveliest loving lips,
The floral hair, the little lightening eyes,
And all thy goodly glory; with mine hands
Delicately I fed thee, with my tongue
Tenderly spake, saying, Verily in God’s time,
For all the little likeness of thy limbs,
Son, I shall make thee a kingly man to fight,
1940
A lordly leader; and hear before I die,
‘She bore the goodliest sword of all the world.’
Oh! oh! For all my life turns round on me;
I am severed from myself, my name is gone,
My name that was a healing, it is changed,
My name is a consuming. From this time,
Though mine eyes reach to the end of all these things,
My lips shall not unfasten till I die.
SEMICHORUS
She has filled with sighing the city,
And the ways thereof with tears;
1950
She arose, she girdled her sides,
She set her face as a bride’s;
She wept, and she had no pity;
Trembled, and felt no fears.
SEMICHORUS
Her eyes were clear as the sun,
Her brows were fresh as the day;
She girdled herself with gold,
Her robes were manifold;
But the days of her worship are done,
Her praise is taken away.
SEMICHORUS
1960
For she set her hand to the fire,
With her mouth she kindled the same;
As the mouth of a flute-player,
So was the mouth of her;
With the might of her strong desire
She blew the breath of the flame.
SEMICHORUS
She set her hand to the wood,
She took the fire in her hand;
As one who is nigh to death,
She panted with strange breath;
1970
She opened her lips unto blood,
She breathed and kindled the brand.
SEMICHORUS
As a wood-dove newly shot,
She sobbed and lifted her breast;
She sighed and covered her eyes,
Filling her lips with sighs;
She sighed, she withdrew herself not,
She refrained not, taking not rest;
SEMICHORUS
But as the wind which is drouth,
And as the air which is death,
1980
As storm that severeth ships,
Her breath severing her lips,
The breath came forth of her mouth
And the fire came forth of her breath.
SECOND MESSENGER
Queen, and you maidens, there is come on us
A thing more deadly than the face of death;
Meleager the good lord is as one slain.
SEMICHORUS
Without sword, without sword is he stricken;
Slain, and slain without hand.
SECOND MESSENGER
For as keen ice divided of the sun
1990
His limbs divide, and as thawed snow the flesh
Thaws from off all his body to the hair.
SEMICHORUS
He wastes as the embers quicken;
With the brand he fades as a brand.
SECOND MESSENGER
Even while they sang and all drew hither and he
Lifted both hands to crown the Arcadian’s hair
And fix the looser leaves, both hands fell down.
SEMICHORUS
With rending of cheek and of hair
Lament ye, mourn for him, weep.
SECOND MESSENGER
Straightway the crown slid off and smote on earth,
2000
First fallen; and he, grasping his own hair, groaned
And cast his raiment round his face and fell.
SEMICHORUS
Alas for visions that were,
And soothsayings spoken in sleep.
SECOND MESSENGER
But the king twitched his reins in and leapt down
And caught him, crying out twice ‘O child’ and thrice,
So that men’s eyelids thickened with their tears.
SEMICHORUS
Lament with a long lamentation,
Cry, for an end is at hand.
SECOND MESSENGER
O son, he said, son, lift thine eyes, draw breath,
2010
Pity me; but Meleager with sharp lips
Gasped, and his face waxed like as sunburnt grass.
SEMICHORUS
Cry aloud, O thou kingdom, O nation,
O stricken, a ruinous land.
SECOND MESSENGER
Whereat king Œneus, straightening feeble knees,
With feeble hands heaved up a lessening weight,
And laid him sadly in strange hands, and wept.
SEMICHORUS
Thou art smitten, her lord, her desire,
Thy dear blood wasted as rain.
SECOND MESSENGER
And they with tears and rendings of the beard
2020
Bear hither a breathing body, wept upon
And lightening at each footfall, sick to death.
SEMICHORUS
Thou madest thy sword as a fire,
With fire for a sword thou art slain.
SECOND MESSENGER
And lo, the feast turned funeral, and the crowns
Fallen; and the huntress and the hunter trapped;
And weeping and changed faces and veiled hair.
MELEAGER
Let your hands meet
Round the weight of my head;
Lift ye my feet
2030
As the feet of the dead;
For the flesh of my body is molten, the limbs of it molten as lead.
CHORUS
O thy luminous face,
Thine imperious eyes!
O the grief, O the grace,
As of day when it dies!
Who is this bending over thee, lord, with tears and suppression of sighs?
MELEAGER
Is a bride so fair?
Is a maid so meek?
With unchapleted hair,
2040
With unfilleted cheek,
Atalanta, the pure among women, whose name is as blessing to speak.
ATALANTA
I would that with feet
Unsandalled, unshod,
Overbold, overfleet,
I had swum not nor trod
From Arcadia to Calydon northward, a blast of the envy of God.
MELEAGER
Unto each man his fate;
Unto each as he saith
In whose fingers the weight
2050
Of the world is as breath;
Yet I would that in clamour of battle mine hands had laid hold upon death.
CHORUS
Not with cleaving of shields
And their clash in thine ear,
When the lord of fought fields
Breaketh spearshaft from spear,
Thou art broken, our lord, thou art broken, with travail and labour and fear.
MELEAGER
Would God he had found me
Beneath fresh boughs!
Would God he had bound me
2060
Unawares in mine house,
With light in mine eyes, and songs in my lips, and a crown on my brows!
CHORUS
Whence art thou sent from us?
Whither thy goal?
How art thou rent from us,
Thou that wert whole,
As with severing of eyelids and eyes, as with sundering of body and soul!
MELEAGER
My heart is within me
As an ash in the fire;
Whosoever hath seen me,
2070
Without lute, without lyre,
Shall sing of me grievous things, even things that were ill to desire.
CHORUS
Who shall raise thee
From the house of the dead?
Or what man praise thee
That thy praise may be said?
Alas thy beauty! alas thy body! alas thine head!
MELEAGER
But thou, O mother,
The dreamer of dreams,
Wilt thou bring forth another
2080
To feel the sun’s beams
When I move among shadows a shadow, and wail by impassable streams?
ŒNEUS
What thing wilt thou leave me
Now this thing is done?
A man wilt thou give me,
A son for my son,
For the light of mine eyes, the desire of my life, the desirable one?
CHORUS
Thou wert glad above others,
Yea, fair beyond word;
Thou wert glad among mothers;
2090
For each man that heard
Of thee, praise there was added unto thee, as wings to the feet of a bird.
Poems and Ballads and Atalanta in Calydon Page 37