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Translated by J. H. Merivale
JOY in Troja’s courts abounded | |
| Ere the lofty ramparts fell; | |
| Hymns of jubilee resounded | |
| From the golden-chorded shell. | |
| Now from fields of strife and slaughter | 5 |
| Rests at peace each valiant head, | |
| While to Priam’s fairest daughter | |
| Peleus’ godlike son must wed. | |
| |
| There, bedecked with boughs of laurel, | |
| Where the columned fanes extend, | 10 |
| Troop on troop, in bright apparel, | |
| To the Thymbrian’s altar bend. | |
| Through the streets the Bacchic madness | |
| Rushing comes with hollow swell, | |
| And on thoughts of silent sadness | 15 |
| One alone is left to dwell. | |
| |
| Joyless most where joy exceeded, | |
| Did Cassandra’s footsteps rove, | |
| Lonely, desolate, unheeded, | |
| Through Apollo’s laurel grove. | 20 |
| Mid the forest depths slow winding | |
| Wandered the prophetic maid, | |
| And, her sacred locks unbinding, | |
| Flung to earth the mystic braid. | |
| |
| “Joy forgotten—bliss forsaken— | 25 |
| Each exulting bosom shares; | |
| And the sires new hopes awaken, | |
| And glad pomp the sister wears. | |
| I alone must inly sorrow, | |
| Whom the sweet illusions fly, | 30 |
| Who behold the fatal morrow, | |
| Winged with ruin, hover nigh. | |
| |
| “Lo, a torch! I see it flaring— | |
| Not, alas! in Hymen’s hand— | |
| In the clouds behold it glaring,— | 35 |
| But ’t is not an altar-brand. | |
| Lo! the festal board they ’re spreading; | |
| But my full foreboding mind | |
| Marks the fateful footsteps treading | |
| Of the gloomy god behind. | 40 |
| |
| “And they call my moaning madness, | |
| And they mock my bosom’s smart: | |
| Lonely then, in silent sadness, | |
| Let me wear my burdened heart. | |
| By the happy shunned, discarded, | 45 |
| Scorn of pleasure’s frolic ring, | |
| Heavy falls thy lot awarded, | |
| Pythian god!—remorseless king! | |
| |
| “Wherefore hath thy fatal kindness | |
| My awakened sense decreed, | 50 |
| In this land of utter blindness | |
| Thy dark oracles to read? | |
| Visual sense too perfect lending, | |
| Why withhold the warding power? | |
| It must fall—the doom impending,— | 55 |
| Must draw on—the dreaded hour. | |
| |
| “Wherefore lift the veil, where terror | |
| Darkly hovering threats our breath? | |
| Life itself is naught but error, | |
| And to know—alas! is death. | 60 |
| Hide, O, hide fate’s dreary portal! | |
| Make mine eyes from blood-stain free! | |
| ’T is a fearful thing, the mortal | |
| Vessel of thy truth to be. | |
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| “My blest ignorance restore me, | 65 |
| And the joys that once were mine! | |
| Ne’er came strains of gladness o’er me | |
| Since my voice hath echoed thine. | |
| Thou, the thankless future giving, | |
| Didst the present render vain; | 70 |
| Vain the hope, the bliss of living,— | |
| Take thy false gift back again! | |
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| “With the bridal chaplet never | |
| Might my perfumed locks be crowned, | |
| Since thy servant I, forever, | 75 |
| At the altar’s foot was bound. | |
| All youth’s spring-tide sorrow-shaken, | |
| Life consumed in ceaseless smart, | |
| Each rude shock by Troy partaken | |
| Smote on my presaging heart. | 80 |
| |
| “Treading light youth’s sportive measures, | |
| Others wake to life and love,— | |
| All who shared my childhood’s pleasures; | |
| I—can only anguish prove! | |
| Spring, that clothes the earth in glory, | 85 |
| Brings no rapture to my mind. | |
| Who that reads life’s coming story | |
| Aught of bliss in life can find? | |
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| “Polyxene! for blest I hold thee, | |
| Who, in bright illusions dressed, | 90 |
| Think’st this night he shall enfold thee,— | |
| He—of Greeks the first and best. | |
| See, with pride her bosom swelling— | |
| Transports she can scarce contain— | |
| Heavenly powers! yourselves excelling | 95 |
| In the dream that fires her brain. | |
| |
| “I too saw him, whom my beating | |
| Heart its bosom-lord proclaimed,— | |
| Saw his beauteous face entreating, | |
| With the glow of love enflamed. | 100 |
| Then, methought, with him how brightly | |
| Might my days domestic shine! | |
| But a Stygian vision nightly | |
| Stepped betwixt his arms and mine. | |
| |
| “All her pallid spectres yonder | 105 |
| From the queen of night repair: | |
| Wheresoe’er I walk or wander— | |
| Grisly shapes!—I see them there. | |
| Even while frolic youth ran bounding, | |
| Thronging still they on me pressed, | 110 |
| Ghastly crowds my path surrounding.— | |
| No! I never can be blest. | |
| |
| “Murder’s steel—I see it glancing; | |
| Murder’s eye—I see it glare. | |
| Right or left my sight advancing, | 115 |
| Horror meets me everywhere. | |
| Though I fain would ’scape, unwilling,— | |
| Knowing, shuddering, fixed I stand, | |
| And, my destiny fulfilling, | |
| Perish in the stranger land.” | 120 |
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| Scarce the voice prophetic ended, | |
| Hark! wild clamors rolling spread,— | |
| At the temple gate extended, | |
| Thetis’ mighty son lies dead. | |
| Discord rears her snaky tresses; | 125 |
| All the gods afar have flown; | |
| And the thunder-cloud thick presses | |
| Heavily o’er Ilion. | |
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