"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.
What doth she look on-whom doth she behold!
Her hero slain upon the beach of Troy?"
"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."
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.
"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
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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