The Complete Poems of Sir Thomas Moore Part 147

[12] "This morning we paid our visit to the Cave of Trophonius, and the Fountains of Memory and Oblivion, just upon the water of Hercyna, which flows through stupendous rocks."--_Williams's Travels in Greece_.

[13] This superst.i.tious custom of the Thessalians exists also, as Pietro dello Valle tells us, among the Persians.

[14] An ancient city of Zea, the walls of which were of marble. Its remains (says Clarke) "extend from the sh.o.r.e, quite into a valley watered by the streams of a fountain, whence Ioulis received its name."

[15] Zea was the birthplace of this poet, whose verses are by Catullus called "tears."

[16] These "Songs of the Well," as they were called among the ancients, still exist in Greece. _De Guys_ tells us that he has seen "the young women in Prince's Island, a.s.sembled in the evening at a public well, suddenly strike up a dance, while others sung in concert to them."

[17] "The inhabitants of Syra, both ancient and modern, may be considered as the worshippers of water. The old fountain, at which the nymphs of the island a.s.sembled in the earliest ages, exists in its original state; the same rendezvous as it was formerly, whether of love and gallantry, or of gossiping and tale-telling. It is near to the town, and the most limpid water gushes continually from the solid rock. It is regarded by the inhabitants with a degree of religious veneration; and they p reserve a tradition, that the pilgrims of old time, in their way to Delos, resorted hither for purification."_--Clarke_.

[18] "Violet-crowned Athens."--_Pindar_.

[19] The whole of this scene was suggested by Pliny's account of the artist Pausias and his mistress Glycera, _Lib_. 35 c. 40.

[20] The traveller Shaw mentions a beautiful rill In Barbary, which is received into a large basin called _Shrub wee krub_, "Drink and away"-- there being great danger of meeting with thieves and a.s.sa.s.sins in such places.

[21] The Arabian shepherd has a peculiar ceremony in weaning the young camel; when the proper time arrives, he turns the camel towards the rising star, Canopus, and says, "Do you see Canopus? from this moment you taste not another drop of milk."--_Richardson_.

[22] "Whoever returns from a pilgrimage to Mecca hangs this plant (the mitre-shaped Aloe) over his street door, as a token of his having performed this holy journey."--_Ha.s.selquist_.

[23] This form of notice to the caravans to prepare for marching was applied by Hafiz to the necessity of relinquishing the pleasures of this world, and preparing for death:--"For me what room is there for pleasure in the bower of Beauty, when every moment the bell makes proclamation, 'Bind on your burden'?"

[24] The watchmen, in the camp of the caravans, go their rounds, crying one after another, "G.o.d is one," etc.

[25] "It was customary," says Irwin, "to light up fires on the mountains, within view of Cosseir, to give notice of the approach of the caravans that came from the Nile."

[26] the Hume.

[27] The name which the Greeks give to the Virgin Mary.

ALCIPHRON: A FRAGMENT.

LETTER I.

FROM ALCIPHRON AT ALEXANDRIA TO CLEON AT ATHENS.

Well may you wonder at my flight From those fair Gardens in whose bowers Lingers whate'er of wise and bright, Of Beauty's smile or Wisdom's light, Is left to grace this world of ours.

Well may my comrades as they roam On such sweet eyes as this inquire Why I have left that happy home Where all is found that all desire, And Time hath wings that never tire: Where bliss in all the countless shapes That Fancy's self to bliss hath given Comes cl.u.s.tering round like roadside grapes That woo the traveller's lip at even; Where Wisdom flings not joy away-- As Pallas in the stream they say Once flung her flute--but smiling owns That woman's lip can send forth tones Worth all the music of those spheres So many dream of but none hears; Where Virtue's self puts on so well Her sister Pleasure's smile that, loath From either nymph apart to dwell, We finish by embracing both.

Yes, such the place of bliss, I own From all whose charms I just have flown; And even while thus to thee I write, And by the Nile's dark flood recline, Fondly, in thought I wing my flight Back to those groves and gardens bright, And often think by this sweet light How lovelily they all must shine; Can see that graceful temple throw Down the green slope its lengthened shade, While on the marble steps below There sits some fair Athenian maid, Over some favorite volume bending; And by her side a youthful sage Holds back the ringlets that descending Would else o'ershadow all the page.

But hence such thoughts!--nor let me grieve O'er scenes of joy that I but leave, As the bird quits awhile its nest To come again with livelier zest.

And now to tell thee--what I fear Thou'lt gravely smile at--_why_ I'm here Tho' thro' my life's short, sunny dream, I've floated without pain or care Like a light leaf down pleasure's stream, Caught in each sparkling eddy there; Tho' never Mirth awaked a strain That my heart echoed not again; Yet have I felt, when even most gay, Sad thoughts--I knew not whence or why-- Suddenly o'er my spirit fly, Like clouds that ere we've time to say "How bright the sky is!" shade the sky.

Sometimes so vague, so undefined Were these strange darkenings of my mind-- "While naught but joy around me beamed So causelessly they've come and flown, That not of life or earth they seemed, But shadows from some world unknown.

More oft, however, 'twas the thought How soon that scene with all its play Of life and gladness must decay-- Those lips I prest, the hands I caught-- Myself--the crowd that mirth had brought Around me--swept like weeds away!

This thought it was that came to shed O'er rapture's hour its worst alloys; And close as shade with sunshine wed Its sadness with my happiest joys.

Oh, but for this disheartening voice Stealing amid our mirth to say That all in which we most rejoice Ere night may be the earthworm's prey-- _But_ for this bitter--only this-- Full as the world is brimmed with bliss, And capable as feels my soul Of draining to its dregs the whole, I should turn earth to heaven and be, If bliss made G.o.ds, a Deity?

Thou know'st that night--the very last That 'mong my Garden friends I past-- When the School held its feast of mirth To celebrate our founder's birth.

And all that He in dreams but saw When he set Pleasure on the throne Of this bright world and wrote her law In human hearts was felt and known-- _Not_ in unreal dreams but true, Substantial joy as pulse e'er knew-- By hearts and bosoms, that each felt _Itself_ the realm where Pleasure dwelt.

That night when all our mirth was o'er, The minstrels silent, and the feet Of the young maidens heard no more-- So stilly was the time, so sweet, And such a calm came o'er that scene, Where life and revel late had been-- Lone as the quiet of some bay From which the sea hath ebbed away-- That still I lingered, lost in thought, Gazing upon the stars of night, Sad and intent as if I sought Some mournful secret in their light; And asked them mid that silence why Man, glorious man, alone must die While they, less wonderful than he, Shine on thro' all eternity.

That night--thou haply may'st forget Its loveliness--but 'twas a night To make earth's meanest slave regret Leaving a world so soft and bright.

On one side in the dark blue sky Lonely and radiant was the eye Of Jove himself, while on the other, 'Mong stars that came out one by one, The young moon--like the Roman mother Among her living jewels--shone.

"Oh that from yonder orbs," I thought, "Pure and eternal as they are, "There could to earth some power be brought, "Some charm with their own essence fraught "To make man deathless as a star, "And open to his vast desires "A course, as boundless and sublime "As that which waits those comet-fires, "That burn and roam throughout all time!"

While thoughts like these absorbed my mind, That weariness which earthly bliss However sweet still leaves behind, As if to show how earthly 'tis, Came lulling o'er me and I laid My limbs at that fair statue's base-- That miracle, which Art hath made Of all the choice of Nature's grace-- To which so oft I've knelt and sworn.

That could a living maid like her Unto this wondering world be born, I would myself turn worshipper.

Sleep came then o'er me--and I seemed To be transported far away To a bleak desert plain where gleamed One single, melancholy ray.

Throughout that darkness dimly shed From a small taper in the hand Of one who pale as are the dead Before me took his spectral stand, And said while awfully a smile Came o'er the wanness of his cheek-- "Go and beside the sacred Nile "You'll find the Eternal Life you seek."

Soon as he spoke these words the hue Of death o'er all his features grew Like the pale morning when o'er night She gains the victory full of light; While the small torch he held became A glory in his hand whose flame Brightened the desert suddenly, Even to the far horizon's line-- Along whose level I could see Gardens and groves that seemed to shine As if then o'er them freshly played A vernal rainbow's rich cascade; And music floated every where, Circling, as 'twere itself the air, And spirits on whose wings the hue Of heaven still lingered round me flew, Till from all sides such splendors broke, That with the excess of light I woke!

Such was my dream;--and I confess Tho' none of all our creedless school E'er conned, believed, or reverenced less The fables of the priest-led fool Who tells us of a soul, a mind, Separate and pure within us shrined, Which is to live--ah, hope too bright!-- For ever in yon fields of light; Who fondly thinks the guardian eyes Of G.o.ds are on him--as if blest And blooming in their own blue skies The eternal G.o.ds were not too wise To let weak man disturb their rest!-- Tho' thinking of such creeds as thou And all our Garden sages think, Yet is there something, I allow, In dreams like this--a sort of link With worlds unseen which from the hour I first could lisp my thoughts till now Hath mastered me with spell-like power.

And who can tell, as we're combined Of various atoms--some refined, Like those that scintillate and play In the fixt stars--some gross as they That frown in clouds or sleep in clay-- Who can be sure but 'tis the best And brightest atoms of our frame, Those most akin to stellar flame, That shine out thus, when we're at rest;-- Even as the stars themselves whose light Comes out but in the silent night.

Or is it that there lurks indeed Some truth in Man's prevailing creed And that our Guardians from on high Come in that pause from toil and sin To put the senses' curtain by And on the wakeful soul look in!

Vain thought!--but yet, howe'er it be, Dreams more than once have proved to me Oracles, truer far than Oak Or Dove or Tripod ever spoke.

And 'twas the words--thou'lt hear and smile-- The words that phantom seemed to speak-- "Go and beside the sacred Nile "You'll find the Eternal Life you seek"-- That haunting me by night, by day, At length as with the unseen hand Of Fate itself urged me away From Athens to this Holy Land; Where 'mong the secrets still untaught, The mysteries that as yet nor sun Nor eye hath reached--oh, blessed thought!-- May sleep this everlasting one.

Farewell--when to our Garden friends Thou talk'st of the wild dream that sends The gayest of their school thus far, Wandering beneath Canopus' star, Tell them that wander where he will Or howsoe'er they now condemn His vague and vain pursuit he still Is worthy of the School and them;-- Still all their own--nor e'er forgets Even while his heart and soul pursue The Eternal Light which never sets, The many meteor joys that _do_, But seeks them, hails them with delight Where'er they meet his longing sight.

And if his life _must_ wane away Like other lives at least the day, The hour it lasts shall like a fire With incense fed in sweets expire.

LETTER II.

FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME.