On that same misery, beyond mistake 66 "I would that I had such a power," said he, Thy very wife, and grant thee such a grace! "Well do I know thou wouldst : but where the hope? There is no bringing back the dead to light." 6 "Tis easier to advise bear up,' than bear!" 66 But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?" 545 550 "I myself know that: but a certain love Allures me to the choice I shall not change." 66 ‘Ay, but, still loving dead ones, still makes weep." 555 "And let it be so! She has ruined me, And still more than I say: that answers all.” 66 Oh, thou hast lost a brave wife: who disputes?" "So brave a one that he whom thou behold'st Will never more enjoy his life again!" “Time will assuage! The evil yet is young! "Time, thou mayst say, will; if time mean to die." 66 Will stop thy sorrow! "Hush, friend, - hold thy peace! What hast thou said! I could not credit ear!" 66 How then? Thou wilt not marry, then, but keep A widowed couch?" 560 565 "Why, then, hold fast And have her! and, one day, asseverate Thou wilt, I think, thy friend, the son of Zeus, 625 He was the gentle guest to entertain! Look at her! See if she, in any way, Present thee with resemblance of thy wife!" Ah, but the tears come, find the words at fault! There is no telling how the hero twitched 630 The veil off: and there stood, with such fixed eyes And such slow smile, Alkestis' silent self! It was the crowning grace of that great heart, 635 The husband wanting, might essay once more, Risen to the height of her: so, hand in hand, 640 Beside, when he found speech, you guess the speech. Still, And Herakles said, smiling, All was truth. Take care, nor wake the envy of the Gods!" 645 650 655 And save, that sire, his offspring to the end! For thou hast - only thou raised me and mine Then asked Tremblingly, how was trod the perilous path Out of the dark into the light and life: And Herakles said little, but enough How he engaged in combat with that king 660 665 By the tomb's self: how he sprung from ambuscade, But all the time, Alkestis moved not once 670 Out of the set gaze and the silent smile; And a cold fear ran through Admetos' frame: "Why does she stand and front me, silent thus?" Herakles solemnly replied, "Not yet Is it allowable thou hear the things 675 And on our upper world the third day rise! Lead her in, meanwhile; good and true thou art, Good, true, remain thou! Practise piety 680 To stranger-guests the old way! So, farewell! Fain would Admetos keep that splendid smile 66 Stay with us, thou heart! 685 "At some other day! Now, of necessity, I haste!" smiled he. “But mayst thou prosper, go forth on a foot Sure to return! Through all the tetrarchy, Command my subjects that they institute 690 Thanksgiving-dances for the glad event, Whereupon all the friendly moralists Drew this conclusion: chirped, each beard to each: 66 Many a hopeless matter Gods arrange. What we expected never came to pass: What we did not expect Gods brought to bear; So have things gone, this whole experience through!” Ah, but if you had seen the play itself! 695 700 They say, my poet failed to get the prize: Sophokles got the prize, great name! They say, 705 Model a new Admetos, a new wife: Success to him! One thing has many sides. The great name! But no good supplants a good, 710 Will carve and carry a fresh cup, brimful Of beauty and good, firm to the altar-foot, Not clash against this crater in the place Where the God put it when his mouth had drained, 715 And praised Euripides forevermore The Human with his droppings of warm tears. TENNYSON. OENONE. 1 THERE lies a vale in Ida, lovelier Than all the valleys of Ionian hills. The swimming vapor slopes athwart the glen, In cataract after cataract to the sea. Stands up and takes the morning: but in front Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel, The crown of Troas. Hither came at noon Mournful Œnone, wandering forlorn Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills. Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest. She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine, Sloped downward to her seat from the upper cliff. "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, 5 10 15 20 25 |