A Legend of Old Persia and Other Poems | Page 9

shadow
But walked a prince in
the town)
But mate for my glorious spirit
Winging thro' shimmering
heights,
On the viewless pinions of fancy
Where none can follow
its flights."
Thus was I moved in spirit
And wrought, a happy slave,

Striving to make the best

Of the gifts the high gods gave,

Fashioning out of the marble,
--And I knew my work was good--

The arms and the breasts and the thighs
And the glory of
womanhood.
VII
Lo! the statue is finished.
Look how it stands serene
A woman with

tender smile
And proud eyes of a queen!
Lo! the statue is perfect....

Flower and crown of my life....
I who never loved woman
Could
take this woman for wife....
Her, my Galatea,
My wonderful
milk-white friend,
Work of my hand and brain
Linked to this noble
end.
VIII
The statue stands above me,
Flower and crown of my art....
But
would that the gods had made me
As others, not set me apart.
For
what, in the measure of life,
Is work on a lower plane?
And this the
finest, brightest--
Further I cannot attain.
Shall I grind its beauty to
fragments
Or shatter its symmetry?--
For I have made it in secret

And none has seen it but me.
My hand would falter and fail--
Oh! ...
I could not forget.
I still should see it in dreams
With a passion of
regret.
Or ... Shall I wait till morning
White-winged over the land,

Ere the fishermen tramp the beach
And drag their boats to the sand;

And find at last ... oh! at last
A boon denied to me,
Rest in the
ever-restless,
The huge, unquiet sea,
That the brain may be freed
from toil
Which has toiled to a luckless end
When it touched its
highest powers
And shaped my milk-white friend.
IX
For a dream is only a dream,
(My best and my last stands there)

And a stone is only a stone,
Be it carven beyond compare,
And the
veriest hind of the field
Who sweats for his hungry brood,

Has a
deeper knowledge than I
Of our mortal evil and good.
Oh! gods, if
ever I sought you,
And found you, terrible lords,
Zeus in the rattling
thunder,
Ares in din of swords;
And thou, wise grey-eyed lady,

Who lovest the sober mean,
Reason and grave discourses,
A
tempered mind and serene,
You have I duly honoured--
Yet one
have I kept apart,
(Lean, misshapen, and ugly
No toy for a maiden's
heart).
"Oh! foam-begotten and smiling,
Oh, perilous child of the

sea--
Forgive--ere too late--and befriend me!
What am I--what is
life without thee?"
And his prayer went up like a vapour
To the
palace above the snows,
Where the shining gods held revel,
And
deathless laughter arose.
But Hupnos swiftly descended
Like a
noiseless bird of the night
And brushed his eyes with pinions

Downy and thick and light,
Circled dimly about him,
And brushed
his eyes as he prayed
Laying a drowsy mandate,
And the watcher
drooped and obeyed.
X
In at the workshop windows
Peacefully stole the dawn;
Tinting the
marble figures
Of wood-nymph, goddess and faun,
Broadening in a
streamer
Which touched with a rosy glow
The still white form of
the statue,
The sleeper kneeling below.
... She moved as the red
light touched her
And life stirred under her hair,
A little shiver ran
over
Her glorious limbs all bare.
Thro' arms and breasts and thighs

The warm blood pulsed and ran:
And she stepped down from the
pedestal--
A woman unto a man;
Saying in tender accents
Of low
and musical tone:
"Oh! sleeper, wake from thy slumber
No longer
art thou alone...."
Alexis.
Who slew Alexis? Some one smote
Right thro' the white and tender
throat
(And scarce gave time for fear)
The jewelled doll, who
sprang from kings,
With farded cheek and flashing rings,
And left
him lying here.
He sat upon a throne, pardye,
The ancient throne of Muscovy,


Smiling a harlot's smile,
And gave--the painted popinjay--
The
word which no man might gainsay,
Tossing his curls the while.
And savage warriors, steel on hips,
Muttered between their bearded
lips,
And spat upon the floor,
To see a thing so debonnaire


Enthroned upon a conqueror's chair,
And find their King half-whore.
Or in a gallery all aflare,
Approached by some dark palace stair,
He
lay in languid mood,
And naked women, mad with wine,
Did
cruelty and lust combine
To stir his tainted blood.
So plunged, half woman and half devil,
In many a foul and roaring
revel,
By some fierce craving fanned,
Alexis, with the girlish face

And swaying movements full of grace,
The Ruler of this Land.
So, hunted by a mind diseased,
By those fierce orgies unappeased,

He thirsted after new;
And monstrous things he did (they say)

Which never saw the light of day,
Shared by a chosen few.
The rocks were cleft to bring him treasure,
The mothers mourned to
give him pleasure,
The whole land writhed in pain,
All night the
secret chambers flared,
All night the horrid deeds were dared

Which made him thirst again.
And pampered Turks lived by his side,
With gobbling negroes
bloodshot-eyed,
And hags with mouths impure.
And day and night
the warders tall
Stood watching on his castle wall
That he might
dwell secure.
Strange visions did upon him throng
With shapes confused which
held him long,
A riot in his brain.
Unbridled lust, unbounded power

So worked upon him in that hour....
I think he was insane.
And I--who had no God to please,
And nursed him crowing on my
knees--
I waited by the stair,
And as he gave a joyous