Part 15 (1/2)
Theocritus, Tibullus (”candor erat, qualem praefert Latonia Luna”), Hafiz, and other Greek, Roman, and Oriental poets are fond of comparing a girl's face or skin to the splendors of the moon, and even the sun is none too bright to suggest her complexion. In the _Arabian Nights_ we read: ”If I look upon the heaven methinks I see the sun fallen down to s.h.i.+ne below, and thee whom I desire to s.h.i.+ne in his place.” A girl may, indeed, be superior to sun and moon, as we see in the same book: ”The moon has only a few of her charms; the sun tried to vie with her but failed. Where has the sun hips like those of the queen of my heart?” An unanswerable argument, surely!
LOCKS AND FRAGRANCE
When William Allingham wrote: ”Her hair's the brag of Ireland, so weighty and so fine,” he followed in the wake of a hundred poets, who had made a girl's tresses the object of amorous hyperbole. Dianeme's ”rich hair which wantons with the love-sick air” is a pretty conceit.
The fanciful notion that a beautiful woman imparts her sweetness to the air, especially with the fragrance of her hair, occurs frequently in the poems of Hafiz and other Orientals. In one of these the poet chides the zephyr for having stolen its sweetness while playing with the beloved's loose tresses. In another, a youth declares that if he should die and the fragrance of his beloved's locks were wafted over his grave, it would bring him back to life. Ben Jonson's famous lines to Celia:
I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon did'st only breathe And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee!
are a free imitation of pa.s.sages in the Love Letters (Nos. 30 and 31) of the Greek Philostratus: ”Send me back some of the roses on which you slept. Their natural fragrance will have been increased by that which you imparted to them.” This is a great improvement on the Persian poets who go into raptures over the fragrant locks of fair women, not for their inherent sweetness, however, but for the artificial perfumes used by them, including the disgusting musk! ”Is a caravan laden with musk returning from Khoten?” sings one of these bards in describing the approach of his mistress.
POETIC DESIRE FOR CONTACT
Besides such direct comparisons of feminine charms to flowers, to sun and moon and other beautiful objects of nature, amorous hyperbole has several other ways of expressing itself. The lover longs to be some article of dress that he might touch the beloved, or a bird that he might fly to her, or he fancies that all nature is love-sick in sympathy with him. Romeo's
See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek!
is varied in Heine's poem, where the lover wishes he were a stool for her feet to rest on, a cus.h.i.+on for her to stick pins in, or a curl-paper that he might whisper his secrets into her ears; and in Tennyson's dainty lines:
It is the miller's daughter, And she is grown so dear, so dear, That I would be the jewel That trembles at her ear; For hid in ringlets day and night I'd touch her neck so warm and white.
And I would be the girdle About her dainty, dainty waist, And her heart would beat against me In sorrow and in rest; And I should know if it beat right, I'd clasp it round so close and tight.
And I would be the necklace, And all day long to fall and rise Upon her balmy bosom With her laughter or her sighs, And I would be so light, so light, I scarce should be unclasped at night.
Herein, too, our modern poets were antic.i.p.ated by the ancients.
Anacreon wishes he were a mirror that he might reflect the image of his beloved; or the gown she wears every day; or the water that laves her limbs; or the balm that anoints her body; or the pearl that adorns her neck; or the cloth that covers her breast; or the shoes that are trodden by her feet.
The author of an anonymous poem in the Greek _Anthology_ wishes he were a breath of air that he might be received in the bosom of his beloved; or a rose to be picked by her hand and fastened on her bosom.
Others wish they were the water in the fountain from which a girl drinks, or a dolphin to carry her on its back, or the ring she wears.
After the Hindoo Sakuntala has lost her ring in the river the poet expresses surprise that the ring should have been able to separate itself from that hand. The Cyclops of Theocritus wishes he had been born with the gills of a fish so that he might dive into the sea to visit the nymph Galatea and kiss her hands should her mouth be refused. One of the goatherds of the same bucolic poet wishes he were a bee that he might fly to the grotto of Amaryllis. From such fancies it is but a short step to the ”were I a swallow, to her I would fly”
of Heine and other modern poets.
NATURE'S SYMPATHY WITH LOVERS
In the ecstasy of his feeling Rosalind's lover wants to have her name carved on every tree in the forest; but usually the lover a.s.sumes that all things in the forests, plants or animals, sympathize with him even without having his beloved's name thrust upon them.
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute; Or if they sing, 't is with so dull a cheer, That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
”Why are the roses so pale?” asks Heine.
”Why are the violets so dumb in the green gra.s.s? Why does the lark's song seem so sad, and why have the flowers lost their fragrance? Why does the sun look down upon the meadows so cold and morose, and why is the earth so gray and desolate? Why am I ill and melancholy, and why, my love, did you leave me?”
In another poem Heine declares:
”If the flowers knew how deeply my heart is wounded, they would weep with me. If the nightingales knew how sad I am, they would cheer me with their refres.h.i.+ng song. If the golden stars knew my grief, they would come down from their heights to whisper consolation to me.”