Gebir | Page 9

man, what! for one sheep estranged
Hast thou
thrown into dungeons and of day
Amerced thy shepherd? hast thou,
while the iron
Pierced through his tender limbs into his soul,
By
threats, by tortures, torn out that offence,
And heard him (oh, could I!)
avow his love?
Say, hast thou? cruel, hateful!--ah my fears!
I feel
them true! speak, tell me, are they true?"
She blending thus entreaty with reproach
Bent forward, as though
falling on her knee
Whence she had hardly risen, and at this pause

Shed from her large dark eyes a shower of tears.
Th' Iberian king her sorrow thus consoled.
"Weep no more, heavenly
damsel, weep no more:
Neither by force withheld, or choice
estranged
Thy Tamar lives, and only lives for thee.
Happy, thrice
happy, you! 'tis me alone
Whom heaven and earth and ocean with one
hate
Conspire on, and throughout each path pursue.
Whether in
waves beneath or skies above
Thou hast thy habitation, 'tis from
heaven,
From heaven alone, such power, such charms, descend.

Then oh! discover whence that ruin comes
Each night upon our city,
whence are heard
Those yells of rapture round our fallen walls:
In
our affliction can the gods delight,
Or meet oblation for the nymphs
are tears?"
He spake, and indignation sank in woe.
Which she perceiving, pride
refreshed her heart,
Hope wreathed her mouth with smiles, and she
exclaimed:
"Neither the gods afflict you, nor the nymphs.
Return
me him who won my heart, return
Him whom my bosom pants for, as
the steeds
In the sun's chariot for the western wave,
The gods will
prosper thee, and Tamar prove
How nymphs the torments that they
cause assuage.
Promise me this! indeed I think thou hast,
But 'tis so

pleasing, promise it once more."
"Once more I promise," cried the gladdened king,
"By my right hand
and by myself I swear,
And ocean's gods and heaven's gods I adjure,

Thou shalt be Tamar's, Tamar shalt be thine."
Then she, regarding him long fixed, replied:
"I have thy promise, take
thou my advice.
Gebir, this land of Egypt is a land
Of incantation,
demons rule these waves;
These are against thee, these thy works
destroy.
Where thou hast built thy palace, and hast left
The seven
pillars to remain in front,
Sacrifice there, and all these rites observe.

Go, but go early, ere the gladsome Hours,
Strew saffron in the path
of rising Morn,
Ere the bee buzzing o'er flowers fresh disclosed

Examine where he may the best alight
Nor scatter off the bloom, ere
cold-lipped herds
Crop the pale herbage round each other's bed,

Lead seven bulls, well pastured and well formed,
Their neck
unblemished and their horns unringed,
And at each pillar sacrifice
thou one.
Around each base rub thrice the black'ning blood,
And
burn the curling shavings of the hoof;
And of the forehead locks thou
also burn:
The yellow galls, with equal care preserved,
Pour at the
seventh statue from the north."
He listened, and on her his eyes intent
Perceived her not, and she had
disappeared -
So deep he pondered her important words.
And now had morn arisen and he performed
Almost the whole
enjoined him: he had reached
The seventh statue, poured the yellow
galls,
The forelock from his left he had released
And burnt the
curling shavings of the hoof
Moistened with myrrh; when suddenly a
flame
Spired from the fragrant smoke, nor sooner spired
Down sank
the brazen fabric at his feet.
He started back, gazed, nor could aught
but gaze,
And cold dread stiffened up his hair flower-twined;
Then
with a long and tacit step, one arm
Behind, and every finger wide
outspread,

He looked and tottered on a black abyss.
He thought he

sometimes heard a distant voice
Breathe through the cavern's mouth,
and further on
Faint murmurs now, now hollow groans reply.

Therefore suspended he his crook above,
Dropped it, and heard it
rolling step by step:
He entered, and a mingled sound arose
Like
one (when shaken from some temple's roof
By zealous hand, they and
their fretted nest)
Of birds that wintering watch in Memnon's tomb,

And tell the halcyons when spring first returns.
THIRD BOOK.
On, for the spirit of that matchless man
Whom Nature led throughout
her whole domain,
While he embodied breathed etherial air!
Though panting in the play-hour of my youth
I drank of Avon too, a
dangerous draught,
That roused within the feverish thirst of song,

Yet never may I trespass o'er the stream
Of jealous Acheron, nor
alive descend
The silent and unsearchable abodes
Of Erebus and
Night, nor unchastised
Lead up long-absent heroes into day.
When
on the pausing theatre of earth
Eve's shadowy curtain falls, can any
man
Bring back the far-off intercepted hills,
Grasp the round
rock-built turret, or arrest
The glittering spires that pierce the brow of
Heaven?
Rather can any with outstripping voice
The parting sun's
gigantic strides recall?
Twice sounded GEBIR! twice th' Iberian king
Thought it the strong
vibration of the brain
That struck upon his ear; but now descried
A
form, a man, come nearer: as he came
His unshorn hair grown soft in
these abodes
Waved back, and scattered thin and hoary light.

Living, men called him Aroar, but no more
In celebration or
recording verse
His name is heard, no more by Arnon's side
The
well-walled city which he reared remains.
Gebir was now
undaunted--for the brave
When