Part 13 (2/2)

XLV.

Therewith he drew his sharp sword from his thigh As one intent to slay her: but behold, A sudden marvel shone across the sky!

A cloud of rosy fire, a flood of gold, And Aphrodite came from forth the fold Of wondrous mist, and sudden at her feet Lotus and crocus on the trampled wold Brake, and the slender hyacinth was sweet.

XLVI.

Then fell the point that never bloodless fell When spear bit harness in the battle din, For Aphrodite spake, and like a spell Wrought her sweet voice persuasive, till within His heart there lived no memory of sin, No thirst for vengeance more, but all grew plain, And wrath was molten in desire to win The golden heart of Helen once again.

XLVII.

Then Aphrodite vanish'd as the day Pa.s.ses, and leaves the darkling earth behind; And overhead the April sky was grey, But Helen's arms about her lord were twined, And his round her as clingingly and kind, As when sweet vines and ivy in the spring Join their glad leaves, nor tempests may unbind The woven boughs, so lovingly they cling.

XLVIII.

Noon long was over-past, but sacred night Beheld them not upon the Ilian sh.o.r.e; Nay, for about the waning of the light Their swift s.h.i.+ps wander'd on the waters h.o.a.r, Nor stay'd they the Olympians to adore, So eagerly they left that cursed land, But many a toil, and tempests great and sore, Befell them ere they won the Argive strand.

XLIX.

To Cyprus and Phoenicia wandering They came, and many a s.h.i.+p, and many a man They lost, and perish'd many a precious thing While bare before the stormy North they ran, And further far than when their quest began From Argos did they seem,--a weary while,-- Becalm'd in sultry seas Egyptian, A long day's voyage from the mouths of Nile.

L.

But there the G.o.ds had pity on them, and there The ancient Proteus taught them how to flee From that so distant deep,--the fowls of air Scarce in one year can measure out that sea; Yet first within Aegyptus must they be, And hecatombs must offer,--quickly then The G.o.ds abated of their jealousy, Wherewith they scourge the negligence of men.

LI.

And strong and fair the south wind blew, and fleet Their voyaging, so merrily they fled To win that haven where the waters sweet Of clear Eurotas with the brine are wed, And swift their chariots and their horses sped To pleasant Lacedaemon, lying low Grey in the shade of sunset, but the head Of tall Taygetus like fire did glow.

LII.

And what but this is sweet: at last to win The fields of home, that change not while we change; To hear the birds their ancient song begin; To wander by the well-loved streams that range Where not one pool, one moss-clad stone is strange, Nor seem we older than long years ago, Though now beneath the grey roof of the grange The children dwell of them we used to know?

LIII.

Came there no trouble in the later days To mar the life of Helen, when the old Crowns and dominions perish'd, and the blaze Lit by returning Heraclidae roll'd Through every vale and every happy fold Of all the Argive land? Nay, peacefully Did Menelaus and the Queen behold The counted years of mortal life go by.

LIV.

”Death ends all tales,” but this he endeth not; They grew not grey within the valley fair Of hollow Lacedaemon, but were brought To Rhadamanthus of the golden hair, Beyond the wide world's end; ah never there Comes storm nor snow; all grief is left behind, And men immortal, in enchanted air, Breathe the cool current of the Western wind.

LV.

But Helen was a Saint in Heathendom, A kinder Aphrodite; without fear Maidens and lovers to her shrine would come In fair Therapnae, by the waters clear Of swift Eurotas; gently did she hear All prayers of love, and not unheeded came The broken supplication, and the tear Of man or maiden overweigh'd with shame.

O'er Helen's shrine the gra.s.s is growing green, In desolate Therapnae; none the less Her sweet face now unwors.h.i.+pp'd and unseen Abides the symbol of all loveliness, Of Beauty ever stainless in the stress Of warring l.u.s.ts and fears;--and still divine, Still ready with immortal peace to bless Them that with pure hearts wors.h.i.+p at her shrine.

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