Poems by George Meredith Volume I Part 7

Still thy pure protecting influence Shed from those fair watchful eyes! - Lo! her angry orb has vanished, And the bright sun thrones the skies!

Voicelessly the forest Virgin Vanished! but one look she gave - Keen as Niobean arrow Thro' the maiden's heart it drave.

Thus toward that throning bosom Where all earth is warmed,--each spot Nourished with autumnal blessings - Icy chill was Daphne caught.

Icy chill! but swift revulsion All her gentler self renewed, Even as icy Winter quickens With bud-opening warmth imbued.

Even as a torpid brooklet, That to the night-gleaming moon Flashed in turn the frozen glances, Melts upon the breast of noon.

But no more--O never, never, Turns she to that bosom bright, Swiftly all her senses counsel, All her nerves are strung to flight.

O'er the brows of radiant Pindus Rolls a shadow dark and cold, And a sound of lamentation Issues from its mournful fold.

Voice of the far-sighted Muses!

Cry of keen foreboding song!

Every cleft of startled Tempe Tingles with it sharp and long.

Over bourn and bosk and dingle, Over rivers, over rills, Runs the sad subservient Echo Toward the dim blue distant hills!

And another and another!

'Tis a cry more wild than all; And the hills with m.u.f.fled voices Answer 'Daphne!' to the call.

And another and another!

'Tis a cry so wildly sweet, That her charmed heart turns rebel To the instinct of her feet;

And she pauses for an instant; But his arms have scarcely slid Round her waist in cestian girdles, And his low voluptuous lid

Lifted pleading, and the honey Of his mouth for hers athirst, Ruby glistening, raised for moisture - Like a bud that waits to burst

In the sweet espousing showers - And his tongue has scarce begun With its inarticulate burthen, And the clouds scarce show the sun

As it pierces thro' a crevice Of the ma.s.s that closed it o'er, When again the horror flashes - And she turns to flight once more!

And again o'er radiant Pindus Rolls the shadow dark and cold, And the sound of lamentation Issues from its sable fold!

And again the light winds chide her As she darts from his embrace - And again the far-voiced echoes Speak their tidings of the chase.

Loudly now as swiftly, swiftly, O'er the glimmering sands she speeds; Wildly now as in the furzes From the piercing spikes she bleeds.

Deeply and with direful anguish, As above each crimson drop Pa.s.sion checks the G.o.d Apollo, And love bids him weep and stop. -

He above each drop of crimson Shadowing--like the laurel leaf That above himself will shadow - Sheds a fadeless look of grief.

Then with love's remorseful discord, With its own desire at war, Sighing turns, while dimly fleeting Daphne flies the chase afar.

But all nature is against her!

Pan, with all his sylvan troop, Thro' the vista'd woodland valleys Blocks her course with cry and whoop!

In the twilights of the thickets Trees bend down their gnarled boughs, Wild green leaves and low curved branches Hold her hair and beat her brows.

Many a brake of brushwood covert, Where cold darkness slumbers mute, Slips a shrub to thwart her pa.s.sage, Slides a hand to clutch her foot.

Glens and glades of lushest verdure Toil her in their tawny mesh, Wilder-woofed ways and alleys Lock her struggling limbs in leash.

Feathery gra.s.ses, flowery mosses, Knot themselves to make her trip; Sprays and stubborn sprigs outstretching Put a bridle on her lip;

Many a winding lane betrays her, Many a sudden bosky shoot, And her knee makes many a stumble O'er some hidden damp old root,

Whose quaint face peers green and dusky 'Mongst the matted growth of plants, While she rises wild and weltering, Speeding on with many pants.

Tangles of the wild red strawberry Spread their freckled trammels frail; In the pathway creeping brambles Catch her in their th.o.r.n.y trail.

All the widely sweeping greensward Shifts and swims from knoll to knoll; Grey rough-fingered oak and elm wood Push her by from bole to bole.

Groves of lemon, groves of citron, Tall high-foliaged plane and palm, Bloomy myrtle, light-blue olive, Wave her back with gusts of balm.

Languid jasmine, scrambling briony, Walls of close-festooning braid, Fling themselves about her, mingling With her wafted looks, waylaid.

Twisting bindweed, honey'd woodbine, Cling to her, while, red and blue, On her rounded form ripe berries Dash and die in gory dew.

Running ivies dark and lingering Round her light limbs drag and twine; Round her waist with languorous tendrils Reels and wreathes the juicy vine;

Reining in the flying creature With its arms about her mouth; Bursting all its mellowing bunches To seduce her husky drouth;

Crowning her with amorous cl.u.s.ters; Pouring down her sloping back Fresh-born wines in glittering rillets, Following her in crimson track.

Buried, drenched in dewy foliage, Thus she glimmers from the dawn, Watched by every forest creature, Fleet-foot Oread, frolic Faun.

Silver-sandalled Arethusa Not more swiftly fled the sands, Fled the plains and fled the sunlights, Fled the murmuring ocean strands.

O, that now the earth would open!

O, that now the shades would hide!

O, that now the G.o.ds would shelter!

Caverns lead and seas divide!

Not more faint soft-lowing Io Panted in those starry eyes, When the sleepless midnight meadows Piteously implored the skies!

Still her breathless flight she urges By the sanctuary stream, And the G.o.d with golden swiftness Follows like an eastern beam.

Her the close bewildering greenery Darkens with its duskiest green, - Him each little leaflet welcomes, Flushing with an orient sheen.

Thus he nears, and now all Tempe Rings with his melodious cry, Avenues and blue expanses Beam in his large l.u.s.trous eye!

All the branches start to music!

As if from a secret spring Thousands of sweet bills are bubbling In the nest and on the wing.

Gleams and shines the gla.s.sy river And rich valleys every one; But of all the throbbing beauty Brightest! singled by the sun!

Ivy round her glimmering ancle, Vine about her glowing brow, Never sure was bride so beauteous, Daphne, chosen nymph, as thou!