With many a scalding tear and many a groan,When at my feet emerg’d an old man’s hand,
Grasping this scroll, and this same slender wand.
I knelt with pain–reached out my hand–had grasp’d
These treasures–touch’d the knuckles–they unclasp’d–
I caught a finger: but the downward weight
O’erpowered me–it sank. Then ‘gan abate
The storm, and through chill aguish gloom outburst
The comfortable sun. I was athirst To search the book, and in the warming air
Parted its dripping leaves with eager care.
Strange matters did it treat of, and drew on
My soul page after page, till well-nigh won
Into forgetfulness; when, stupefied,
I read these words, and read again, and tried
My eyes against the heavens, and read again.
O what a load of misery and pain
Each Atlas-line bore off!–a shine of hope
Came gold around me, cheering me to cope Strenuous with hellish tyranny. Attend!
For thou hast brought their promise to an end.
“In the wide sea there lives a forlorn wretch,
Doom’d with enfeebled carcase to outstretch
His loath’d existence through ten centuries,
And then to die alone. Who can devise
A total opposition? No one. So
One million times ocean must ebb and flow,
And he oppressed. Yet he shall not die,
These things accomplish’d:–If he utterly Scans all the depths of magic, and expounds
The meanings of all motions, shapes, and sounds;
If he explores all forms and substances
Straight homeward to their symbol-essences;
He shall not die. Moreover, and in chief,
He must pursue this task of joy and grief
Most piously;–all lovers tempest-tost,
And in the savage overwhelming lost,
He shall deposit side by side, until
Time’s creeping shall the dreary space fulfil: Which done, and all these labours ripened,
A youth, by heavenly power lov’d and led,
Shall stand before him; whom he shall direct
How to consummate all. The youth elect
Must do the thing, or both will be destroy’d.”–
“Then,” cried the young Endymion, overjoy’d,
“We are twin brothers in this destiny!
Say, I intreat thee, what achievement high
Is, in this restless world, for me reserv’d.
What! if from thee my wandering feet had swerv’d, Had we both perish’d?”–”Look!” the sage replied,
“Dost thou not mark a gleaming through the tide,
Of divers brilliances? ’tis the edifice
I told thee of, where lovely Scylla lies;
And where I have enshrined piously
All lovers, whom fell storms have doom’d to die
Throughout my bondage.” Thus discoursing, on
They went till unobscur’d the porches shone;
Which hurryingly they gain’d, and enter’d straight.
Sure never since king Neptune held his state Was seen such wonder underneath the stars.
Turn to some level plain where haughty Mars
Has legion’d all his battle; and behold
How every soldier, with firm foot, doth hold
His even breast: see, many steeled squares,
And rigid ranks of iron–whence who dares
One step? Imagine further, line by line,
These warrior thousands on the field supine:–
So in that crystal place, in silent rows,
Poor lovers lay at rest from joys and woes.– The stranger from the mountains, breathless, trac’d
Such thousands of shut eyes in order plac’d;
Such ranges of white feet, and patient lips
All ruddy,–for here death no blossom nips.
He mark’d their brows and foreheads; saw their hair
Put sleekly on one side with nicest care;
And each one’s gentle wrists, with reverence,
Put crosswise to its heart.
“Let us commence,
Whisper’d the guide, stuttering with joy, even now.” He spake, and, trembling like an aspen-bough,
Began to tear his scroll in pieces small,
Uttering the while some mumblings funeral.
He tore it into pieces small as snow
That drifts unfeather’d when bleak northerns blow;
And having done it, took his dark blue cloak
And bound it round Endymion: then struck
His wand against the empty air times nine.–
“What more there is to do, young man, is thine:
But first a little patience; first undo This tangled thread, and wind it to a clue.
Ah, gentle! ’tis as weak as spider’s skein;
And shouldst thou break it–What, is it done so clean?
A power overshadows thee! Oh, brave!
The spite of hell is tumbling to its grave.
