Down on the dews to hear me; I will tune The instrument of the ethereal moon, And all the choir of stars, to rise and fall In harmony and beauty musical."
He is away – and still the sickly lamp Is burning next the altar; there's a damp, Thin mould upon the pavement; and, at morn, The monks do cross them in their blessed scorn And mutter deep anathemas, because Of the unholy sacrilege, that was Within the sainted chapel, – for they guess'd, By many a vestige sad, how the dark rest Of Agathè was broken, – and anon They sought for Julio. The summer sun Arose and and set, with his imperial disc Toward the ocean-waters, heaving brisk Before the winds, – but Julio came never: He that was frantic as a foaming river — Mad as the fall of leaves upon the tide Of a great tempest, that have fought and died Along the forest ramparts, and doth still In its death-struggle desperately reel Round with the fallen foliage – he was gone, And none knew whither. Still were chanted on Sad masses, by pale sisters, many a day, And holy requiems sung for Agathè!
CHIMERA II
A curse! a curse! the beautiful pale wing Of a sea-bird was worn with wandering, And, on a sunny rock beside the shore, It stood, the golden waters gazing o'er; And they were heaving a brown amber flow Of weeds, that glitter'd gloriously below.
It was the sunset, and the gorgeous hall Of heaven rose up on pillars magical Of living silver, shafting the fair sky Between dark time and great eternity. They rose upon their pedestal of sun, A line of snowy columns! and anon Were lost in the rich tracery of cloud That hung along, magnificently proud, Predicting the pure star-light, that beyond The east was armouring in diamond About the camp of twilight, and was soon To marshal under the fair champion moon, That call'd her chariot of unearthly mist, Toward her citadel of amethyst.
A curse! a curse! a lonely man is there By the deep waters, with a burden fair Clasp'd in his wearied arms – 'Tis he; 'tis he The brain-struck Julio, and Agathè! His cowl is back – flung back upon the breeze, His lofty brow is haggard with disease, As if a wild libation had been pour'd Of lightning on those temples, and they shower'd A dismal perspiration, like a rain, Shook by the thunder and the hurricane!
He dropt upon a rock, and by him placed, Over a bed of sea-pinks growing waste, The silent ladye, and he mutter'd wild, Strange words, about a mother, and no child. "And I shall wed thee, Agathè! although Ours be no God-blest bridal – even so!" And from the sand he took a silver shell, That had been wasted by the fall and swell Of many a moon-borne tide into a ring — A rude, rude ring; it was a snow-white thing, Where a lone hermit limpet slept and died, In ages far away. "Thou art a bride, Sweet Agathè! Wake up; we must not linger." He press'd the ring upon her chilly finger, And to the sea-bird, on its sunny stone, Shouted, "Pale priest! thou liest all alone Upon thy ocean altar, rise away To our glad bridal!" and its wings of gray All lazily it spread, and hover'd by With a wild shriek – a melancholy cry! Then swooping slowly o'er the heaving breast Of the blue ocean, vanish'd in the west.
And Julio is chanting to his bride, A merry song of his wild heart, that died On the soft breeze through pinks beside the sea, All rustling in their beauty gladsomely.
SONG
A rosary of stars, love! we'll count them as we go Upon the laughing waters, that are wandering below, And we'll o'er the pearly moon-beam, as it lieth in the sea, In beauty and in glory, like a shadowing of thee!
A rosary of stars, love! a prayer as we glide, And a whisper in the wind, and a murmur on the tide! And we'll say a fair adieu to the flowers that are seen, With shells of silver sown in radiancy between.
A rosary of stars, love! the purest they shall be, Like spirits of pale pearls, in the bosom of the sea; Now help thee, virgin mother! with a blessing as we go, Upon the laughing waters, that are wandering below! He lifted the dead girl, and is away
To where a light boat, in its moorings lay, Like a sea-cradle, rocking to the hush Of the nurse waters. With a frantic rush O'er the wild field of tangles he hath sped, And through the shoaling waves that fell and fled Upon the furrow'd beach.
The snowy sail Is hoisted to the gladly gushing gale, That bosom'd its fair canvass with a breast Of silver, looking lovely to the west; And at the helm there sits the wither'd one, Gazing and gazing on the sister nun, With her fair tresses floating on his knee — The beautiful, death-stricken Agathè!
Fast, fast, and far away, the bark hath stood Out toward the great heaving solitude, That gurgled in its deeps, as if the breath Went through its lungs, of agony and death!
The sun is lost within the labyrinth Of clouds of purple and pale hyacinth, That are the frontlet of the sister Sky Kissing her brother Ocean; and they lie Bathing in blushes, till the rival queen Night, with her starry tiar, floateth in — A dark and dazzling beauty! that doth draw Over the light of love a shade of awe Most strange, that parts our wonder not the less Between her mystery and loveliness!
And she is there, that is a pyramid Whereon the stars, the statues of the dead, Are imaged over the eternal hall, A group of radiances majestical! And Julio looks up, and there they be, And Agathè, and all the waste of Sea, That slept in wizard slumber, with a shroud Of night flung o'er his bosom, throbbing proud Amid its azure pulses; and again He dropt his blighted eye-orbs, with a strain Of mirth upon the ladye: – Agathè! Sweet bride! be thou a queen, and I will lay A crown of sea-weed on thy royal brow; And I will twine these tresses, that are now Floating beside me, to a diadem; And the sea foam will sprinkle gem on gem, And so will the soft dews. Be thou the queen Of the unpeopled waters, sadly seen By star-light, till the yet unrisen moon Issue, unveiled, from her anderoon, To bathe in the sea fountains: let me say, "Hail – hail to thee! thrice hail, my Agathè!"
The warrior world was lifting to the bent Of his eternal brow magnificent, The fiery moon, that in her blazonry Shone eastward, like a shield. The throbbing sea Felt fever on his azure arteries, That shadow'd them with crimson, while the breeze Fell faster on the solitary sail. But the red moon grew loftier and pale, And the great ocean, like the holy hall, Where slept a seraph host maritimal, Was gorgeous, with wings of diamond Fann'd over it, and millions beyond Of tiny waves were playing to and fro, All musical, with an incessant flow Of cadences, innumerably heard Between the shrill notes of a hermit bird, That held a solemn paean to the moon.
A few devotional fair clouds were soon Breathed o'er the living countenance of Heaven, And under the great galaxies were driven Of stars that group'd together, and they went Like voyagers along the firmament, And grew to silver in the blessed light Of the moon alchymist. It was not night, Not the dark deathly shadow, that falls o'er The eye-lid like a curse, but far before In splendour, struggling through a fall of gloom, In many a myriad gushes, that do come Direct from the eternal stars beyond, Like holy fountains pouring diamond!
A sail! awake thee, Julio! a sail! And be not bending to thy trances pale. But he is gazing on the moonlit brow Of his dead Agathè, and fondly now, The light is silvering her bloodless face And the cold grave-clothes. There is loveliness As in a marble image, very bright! But stricken with a phantasy of light That is not given to the mortal hue, To life and breathing beauty: and she too Is more of the expressless lineament, Than of the golden thoughts that came and went Over her features like a living tide No while before.
A sail is on the wide And moving waters, and it draweth nigh Like a sea-cloud. The elfin billows fly Before it, in their armories enthrall'd Of radiant and moon-breasted emerald; And many is the mariner that sees The lone boat in the melancholy breeze, Waving her snowy canvass, and anon Their stately vessel with a gallant run Crowds by in all her glory; but the cheer Of men is pass'd into a sudden fear, And whisperings, and shakings of the head — The moon was streaming on a virgin dead, And Julio sat over her insane, Like a sea demon! O'er and o'er again, Each cross'd him, as the stately vessel stood Far out into the murmuring solitude!
But Julio saw not; he only heard A rushing, like the passing of a bird, And felt him heaving on the foam, that flew Along the startled billows; and he knew Of a strange sail, by broken oaths that fell Beside him, on the coming of the swell.
They knew thou wert a queen, my royal bride! And made obeisance at thy holy side. They saw thee, Agathè! and go to bring Fair worshippers, and many a poet-king, To utter music at thy pearly feet. — Now, wake thee! for the moonlight cometh sweet, To visit in thy temple of the sea; Thy sister moon is watching over thee! And she is spreading a fair mantle of Pure silver, in thy lonely palace, love! — Now, wake thee! for the sea-bird is aloof, In solitude, below the starry roof; And on its dewy plume there is a light Of palest splendour, o'er the blessed night. Thy spirit, Agathè! – and yet, thou art Beside me, and my solitary heart Is throbbing near to thee: I must not feel The sweet notes of thy holy music steal Into my feverous and burning brain, — So wake not! and I'll hush thee with a strain Of my wild fancy, till thou dream of me, And I be loved as I have loved thee: —
SONG
'Tis light to love thee living, girl, when hope is full and fair, In the springtide of thy beauty, when there is no sorrow there — No sorrow on thy brow, and no shadow on thy heart! When, like a floating sea-bird, bright and beautiful thou art!
'Tis light to love thee living, girl – to see thee ever so, With health, that, like a crimson flower, lies blushing in the snow; And thy tresses falling over, like the amber on the pearl — Oh! true it is a lightsome thing, to love thee living, girl!
But when the brow is blighted, like a star of morning tide, And faded is the crimson blush upon the cheek beside; It is to love, as seldom love, the brightest and the best, When our love lies like a dew upon the one that is at rest.
Because of hopes, that, fallen, are changing to despair, And the heart is always dreaming on the ruin that is there, Oh, true! 'tis weary, weary, to be gazing over thee, And the light of thy pure vision breaketh never upon me!
He lifts her in his arms, and o'er and o'er, Upon the brow of chilliness and hoar, Repeats a silent kiss; – along the side Of the lone bark, he leans that pallid bride, Until the waves do image her within Their bosom, like a spectre – 'Tis a sin Too deadly to be shadow'd or forgiven, To do such mockery in the sight of Heaven! And bid her gaze into the startled sea, And say, "Thy image, from eternity, Hath come to meet thee, ladye!" and anon, He bade the cold corse kiss the shadowy one, That shook amid the waters, like the light Of borealis in a winter night!
And after, he did strain her sea-wet hair Between his chilly fingers, with a stare Of mystery, that marvell'd how that she Had drench'd it so amid the moonlit sea. The morning rose, with breast of living gold, Like eastern phoenix, and his plumage roll'd In clouds of molted brilliance, very bright! And on the waste of waters floated light. —
In truth, 'twas strange to see that merry bark Skimming the silver ocean, like a shark At play amid the beautiful sea-green, And all so sadly desolate within.
And hours flew after hours, a weary length, Until the sunlight, in meridian strength, Threw burning floods upon the wasted brow Of that sea-hermit mariner; and now He felt the fire-light feed upon his brain, And started with intensity of pain, And wash'd him in the sea; it only brought Wild reason, like a demon, and he thought Strange thoughts, like dreaming men – he thought how those Were round him he had seen, and many rose His heart had hated; every billow threw Features before him, and pale faces grew Out of the sea by myriads: – the self-same Was moulded from its image, and they came In groups together, and all said, like one, "Be cursed!" and vanish'd in the deep anon. Then thirst, intolerable as the breath Of Upas, fanning the wild wings of death, Crept up his very gorge, – like to a snake, That stifled him, and bade the pulses ache Through all the boiling current of his blood. It was a thirst, that let the fever flood Fall over him, and gave a ghastly hue To his cramp'd lips, until their breathing grew White as a mist, and short, and like a sigh, Heaved with a struggle, till it falter'd by.
And ever he did look upon the corse With idiot visage, like the hag Remorse That gloateth over on a nameless deed Of darkness and of dole unhistoried. And were there that might hear him, they would hear The murmur of a prayer in deep fear, Through unbarr'd lips, escaping by the half, And all but smother'd by a maniac laugh, That follow'd it, so sudden and so shrill, That swarms of sea-birds, wandering at will Upon the wave, rose startled, and away Went flocking, like a silver shower of spray! And aye he called for water, and the sea Mock'd him with his brine surges tauntingly, And lash'd them over on his fev'rous brow, Volleying roars of curses: – "Stay thee, now, Avenger! lest I die; for I am worn Fainter than star-light at the birth of morn; Stay thee, great angel! for I am not shriven, But frantic as thyself: Oh Heaven! Heaven! But thou hast made me brother of the sea, That I may tremble at his tyranny; Or am I slave? a very, very jest To the sarcastic waters? let me breast The base insulters, and defy them so, In this lone little skiff – I am your foe! Ye raving, lion-like, and ramping seas, That open up your nostrils to the breeze, And fain would swallow me! Do ye not fly, Pale, sick, and gurgling, as I pass you by?
"Lift up! and let me see, that I may tell Ye can be mad, and strange, and terrible; That ye have power, and passion, and a sound As of the flying of an angel round The mighty world; that ye are one with time, And in the great primordium sublime Were nursed together, as an infant-twain, — A glory and a wonder! I would fain Hold truce, thou elder brother! for we are, In feature, as the sun is to a star, So are we like, and we are touch'd in tune With lunacy as music; and the moon, That setteth the tides sentinel before Thy camp of waters, on the pebbled shore, And measures their great footsteps to and fro, Hath lifted up into my brain the flow Of this mad tide of blood. – Ay! we are like In foam and frenzy; the same winds do strike, The same fierce sun-rays, from their battlement Of fire! so, when I perish impotent Before the night of death, they'll say of me, He died as mad and frantic, as the sea!"
A cloud stood for the east, a cloud like night, Like a huge vulture, and the blessed light Of the great sun grew shadow'd awfully: It seem'd to mount up from the mighty sea, Shaking the showers from its solemn wings, And grew, and grew, and many a myriad springs, Were on its bosom, teeming full of rain. There fell a terrible and wizard chain Of lightning, from its black and heated forge, And the dark waters took it to their gorge, And lifted up their shaggy flanks in wonder With rival chorus to the peal of thunder, That wheel'd in many a squadron terrible The stern black clouds, and as they rose and fell They oozed great showers; and Julio held up His wasted hands, in likeness of a cup, And drank the blessed waters, and they roll'd Upon his cheeks like tears, but sadly cold! — 'Twas very strange to look on Agathè! How the quick lightnings, in their elfin play, Stream'd pale upon her features, and they were Sickly, like tapers in a sepulchre!
The ship! that self same ship, that Julio knew Had pass'd him, with her panic-stricken crew, She gleams amid the storm, a shatter'd thing Of pride and lordly beauty: her fair wing Of sail is wounded – the proud pennon gone: Dark, dark she sweepeth like an eagle, on Through waters that are battling to and fro, And tossing their great giant shrouds of snow Over her deck. Ahead, and there is seen A black, strange line of breakers, down between The awful surges, lifting up their manes, Like great sea lions. Quick and high she strains Her foaming keel – that solitary ship! As if, in all her frenzy, she would leap The cursed barrier; forward, fast and fast — Back, back she reels; her timbers and her mast Split in a thousand shivers! A white spring Of the exulted sea rose bantering Over her ruin; and the mighty crew, That mann'd her decks, were seen, a straggling few, Far scatter'd on the surges. Julio felt The impulse of that hour, and low he knelt, Within his own light bark – a prayful man! And clasp'd his lifeless bride; and to her wan, Cold cheek did lay his melancholy brow. — "Save thou a mariner!" He starteth now To hear that dying cry; and there is one, All worn and wave-wet, by his bark anon, Clinging, in terror of the ireful sea, A fair hair'd mariner! But suddenly He saw the pale dead ladye, by a flame Of blue and livid lightning, and there came Over his features blindness, and the power Of his strong hands grew weak, – a giant shower Of foam rose up, and swept him far along; And Julio saw him buffeting the throng Of the great eddying waters, till they went Over him – a wind-shaken cerement!
Then terribly he laugh'd, and rose above His soul-less bride – the ladye of his love Lifting him up, in all his wizard glee; And he did wave, before the frantic sea,