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XXIV.

LAODAMIA.

"WITH sacrifice, before the rising morn
Performed, my slaughtered lord have I required;
And in thick darkness, amid shades forlorn,
Him of the infernal gods have I desired:

Celestial pity I again implore;

Restore him to my sight, great Jove, restore!"

So speaking, and by fervent love endowed

With faith, the suppliant heavenward lifts her hands
While, like the sun emerging from a cloud,

Her countenance brightens-and her eye expands,
Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows,
And she expects the issue in repose.

O terror! what hath she perceived? O joy!
What doth she look on-whom doth she behold?
Her hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence-his corporeal mould?
It is if sense deceive her not-'tis he !

And a god leads him-wingèd Mercury !

Mild Hermes spake, and touched her with his wand

That calms all fear: "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer Laodamia, that at Jove's command

Thy husband walks the paths of upper air:

He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space;

Accept the gift; behold him face to face!

Forth sprang the impassioned queen her lord to clasp;
Again that consummation she essayed;
But unsubstantial form eludes her grasp
As often as that eager grasp was made.
The phantom parts-but parts to reunite,
And reassume his place before her sight.

"Protesilaus, lo! thy guide is gone!
Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice:
This is our palace,-yonder is thy throne;
Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.
Not to appal me have the gods bestowed

This precious boon,-and blessed a sad abode."

"Great Jove, Laodamia, doth not leave
His gifts imperfect:-Spectre though I be,
I am not sent to scare thee or deceive,
But in reward of thy fidelity.

And something also did my worth obtain;
For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.

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"O joy!

What doth she look on-whom doth she behold!

Her hero slain upon the beach of Troy?"

Page 100.

"Thou know'st, the Delphic oracle foretold
That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand
Should die; but me the threat did not withhold:
A gen'rous cause a victim did demand;
And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain;

A self-devoted chief-by Hector slain."

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Supreme of heroes-bravest, noblest, best!
Thy matchless courage I bewail no more,

That then, when tens of thousands were depressed
By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore;
Thou found'st and I forgive thee-here thou art-
A nobler counsellor than my poor heart.

"But thou, though capable of sternest deed,
Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave;
And He, whose power restores thee, hath decreed
That thou shouldst cheat the malice of the grave;
Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair

As when their breath enriched Thessalian air.

"No spectre greets me,-no vain shadow this:
Come, blooming hero, place thee by my side!
Give, on this well-known couch, one nuptial kiss
To me, this day a second time thy bride!

Jove frowned in heaven; the conscious Parcæ threw
Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue.

"This visage tells thee that my doom is past:
Know, virtue were not virtue if the joys
Of sense were able to return as fast
And surely as they vanish.-Earth destroys
Those raptures duly-Erebus disdains:
Calm pleasures there abide-majestic pains.

"Be taught, O faithful consort, to control
Rebellious passion: for the gods approve
The depth, and not the tumult of the soul;
The fervour-not the impotence of love.
Thy transports moderate; and meekly mourn
When I depart, for brief is my sojourn

"Ah, wherefore ?-Did not Hercules by force
Wrest from the guardian monster of the tomb
Alcestis, a reanimated corse,

Given back to dwell on earth in beauty's bloom
Medea's spells dispersed the weight of years,
And Eson stood a youth 'mid youthful peers.

"The gods to us are merciful-and they
Yet further may relent; for mightier far
Than strength of nerve and sinew, or the sway

Of magic, potent over sun and star,

Is love though oft to agony distressed;

And though his favourite seat be feeble woman's breast.

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"But if thou go'st, I follow-”

"Peace!" he said-
She looked upon him and was calmed and cheered;
The ghastly colour from his lips had fled;
In his deportment, shape, and mien appeared
Elysian beauty-melancholy grace-
Brought from a pensive though a happy place.

He spake of love, such love as spirits feel
In worlds whose course is equable and pure;
No fears to beat away-no strifes to heal-
The past unsighed for, and the future sure;
Spake, as a witness, of a second birth
For all that is most perfect upon earth:

Of all that is most beauteous-imaged there
In happier beauty; more pellucid streams,
An ampler æther, a diviner air,

And fields invested with purpureal gleams;
Climes which the sun, who sheds the brightest day
Earth knows, is all unworthy to survey.

Yet there the soul shall enter which hath earned
That privilege by virtue.-" Ill," said he,
"The end of man's existence I discerned,

Who from ignoble games and revelry*

Could draw, when we had parted, vain delight

While tears were thy best pastime,-day and night:

"And while my youthful peers, before my eyes
(Each hero following his peculiar bent),
Prepared themselves for glorious enterprise
By martial sports,-or, seated in the tent,
Chieftains and kings in council were detained;
What time the fleet at Aulis lay enchained.

"The wished-for wind was given :-I then revolved
Our future course, upon the silent sea;

And, if no worthier led the

way, resolved

That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be

The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,-

Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.,

"Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter, was the pang
When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife;
On thee too fondly did my memory hang,
And on the joys we shared in mortal life,-

The paths which we had trod-these fountains-flowers;
My new-planned cities, and unfinished towers.

"But should suspense permit the foe to cry,
'Behold they tremble !-haughty their array,

*For this feature in the character of Protesilaus, see the "Iphigenia in Aulis" of Euripides.

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