William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works

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William Cowper- Collected Poetical Works Page 164

by William Cowper

In battle pierced, with armour gore-distain’d,

  And all the multitude around the foss

  Stalk’d shrieking dreadful; me pale horror seized.

  I next, importunate, my people urged, 50

  Flaying the victims which myself had slain,

  To burn them, and to supplicate in pray’r

  Illustrious Pluto and dread Proserpine.

  Then down I sat, and with drawn faulchion chased

  The ghosts, nor suffer’d them to approach the blood,

  Till with Tiresias I should first confer.

  The spirit, first, of my companion came,

  Elpenor; for no burial honours yet

  Had he received, but we had left his corse

  In Circe’s palace, tombless, undeplored, 60

  Ourselves by pressure urged of other cares.

  Touch’d with compassion seeing him, I wept,

  And in wing’d accents brief him thus bespake.

  Elpenor! how cam’st thou into the realms

  Of darkness? Hast thou, though on foot, so far

  Outstripp’d my speed, who in my bark arrived?

  So I, to whom with tears he thus replied.

  Laertes’ noble son, for wiles renown’d!

  Fool’d by some dæmon and the intemp’rate bowl,

  I perish’d in the house of Circe; there 70

  The deep-descending steps heedless I miss’d,

  And fell precipitated from the roof.

  With neck-bone broken from the vertebræ

  Outstretch’d I lay; my spirit sought the shades.

  But now, by those whom thou hast left at home,

  By thy Penelope, and by thy fire,

  The gentle nourisher of thy infant growth,

  And by thy only son Telemachus

  I make my suit to thee. For, sure, I know

  That from the house of Pluto safe return’d, 80

  Thou shalt ere long thy gallant vessel moor

  At the Ææan isle. Ah! there arrived

  Remember me. Leave me not undeplored

  Nor uninhumed, lest, for my sake, the Gods

  In vengeance visit thee; but with my arms

  (What arms soe’er I left) burn me, and raise

  A kind memorial of me on the coast,

  Heap’d high with earth; that an unhappy man

  May yet enjoy an unforgotten name.

  Thus do at my request, and on my hill 90

  Funereal, plant the oar with which I row’d,

  While yet I lived a mariner of thine.

  He spake, to whom thus answer I return’d.

  Poor youth! I will perform thy whole desire.

  Thus we, there sitting, doleful converse held,

  With outstretch’d faulchion, I, guarding the blood,

  And my companion’s shadowy semblance sad

  Meantime discoursing me on various themes.

  The soul of my departed mother, next,

  Of Anticleia came, daughter of brave 100

  Autolycus; whom, when I sought the shores

  Of Ilium, I had living left at home.

  Seeing her, with compassion touch’d, I wept,

  Yet even her, (although it pain’d my soul)

  Forbad, relentless, to approach the blood,

  Till with Tiresias I should first confer.

  Then came the spirit of the Theban seer

  Himself, his golden sceptre in his hand,

  Who knew me, and, enquiring, thus began.

  Why, hapless Chief! leaving the cheerful day, 110

  Arriv’st thou to behold the dead, and this

  Unpleasant land? but, from the trench awhile

  Receding, turn thy faulchion keen away,

  That I may drink the blood, and tell thee truth.

  He spake; I thence receding, deep infix’d

  My sword bright-studded in the sheath again.

  The noble prophet then, approaching, drank

  The blood, and, satisfied, address’d me thus.

  Thou seek’st a pleasant voyage home again,

  Renown’d Ulysses! but a God will make 120

  That voyage difficult; for, as I judge,

  Thou wilt not pass by Neptune unperceiv’d,

  Whose anger follows thee, for that thou hast

  Deprived his son Cyclops of his eye.

  At length, however, after num’rous woes

  Endur’d, thou may’st attain thy native isle,

  If thy own appetite thou wilt controul

  And theirs who follow thee, what time thy bark

  Well-built, shall at Thrinacia’s shore arrive,

  Escaped from perils of the gloomy Deep. 130

  There shall ye find grazing the flocks and herds

  Of the all-seeing and all-hearing Sun,

  Which, if attentive to thy safe return,

  Thou leave unharm’d, though after num’rous woes,

  Ye may at length arrive in Ithaca.

  But if thou violate them, I denounce

  Destruction on thy ship and all thy band,

  And though thyself escape, late shalt thou reach

  Thy home and hard-bested, in a strange bark,

  All thy companions lost; trouble beside 140

  Awaits thee there, for thou shalt find within

  Proud suitors of thy noble wife, who waste

  Thy substance, and with promis’d spousal gifts

  Ceaseless solicit her to wed; yet well

  Shalt thou avenge all their injurious deeds.

  That once perform’d, and ev’ry suitor slain

  Either by stratagem, or face to face,

  In thy own palace, bearing, as thou go’st,

  A shapely oar, journey, till thou hast found

  A people who the sea know not, nor eat 150

  Food salted; they trim galley crimson prow’d

  Have ne’er beheld, nor yet smooth-shaven oar,

  With which the vessel wing’d scuds o’er the waves.

  Well thou shalt know them; this shall be the sign —

  When thou shalt meet a trav’ler, who shall name

  The oar on thy broad shoulder borne, a van,

  There, deep infixing it within the soil,

  Worship the King of Ocean with a bull,

  A ram, and a lascivious boar, then seek

  Thy home again, and sacrifice at home 160

  An hecatomb to the Immortal Gods,

  Adoring each duly, and in his course.

  So shalt thou die in peace a gentle death,

  Remote from Ocean; it shall find thee late,

  In soft serenity of age, the Chief

  Of a blest people. — I have told thee truth.

  He spake, to whom I answer thus return’d.

  Tiresias! thou, I doubt not, hast reveal’d

  The ordinance of heav’n. But tell me, Seer!

  And truly. I behold my mother’s shade; 170

  Silent she sits beside the blood, nor word

  Nor even look vouchsafes to her own son.

  How shall she learn, prophet, that I am her’s?

  So I, to whom Tiresias quick replied.

  The course is easy. Learn it, taught by me.

  What shade soe’er, by leave of thee obtain’d,

  Shall taste the blood, that shade will tell thee truth;

  The rest, prohibited, will all retire.

  When thus the spirit of the royal Seer

  Had his prophetic mind reveal’d, again 180

  He enter’d Pluto’s gates; but I unmoved

  Still waited till my mother’s shade approach’d;

  She drank the blood, then knew me, and in words

  Wing’d with affection, plaintive, thus began.

  My son! how hast thou enter’d, still alive,

  This darksome region? Difficult it is

  For living man to view the realms of death.

  Broad rivers roll, and awful floods between,

  But chief, the Ocean, which to pass on foot,

  Or without s
hip, impossible is found. 190

  Hast thou, long wand’ring in thy voyage home

  From Ilium, with thy ship and crew arrived,

  Ithaca and thy consort yet unseen?

  She spake, to whom this answer I return’d.

  My mother! me necessity constrain’d

  To Pluto’s dwelling, anxious to consult

  Theban Tiresias; for I have not yet

  Approach’d Achaia, nor have touch’d the shore

  Of Ithaca, but suff’ring ceaseless woe

  Have roam’d, since first in Agamemnon’s train 200

  I went to combat with the sons of Troy.

  But speak, my mother, and the truth alone;

  What stroke of fate slew thee? Fell’st thou a prey

  To some slow malady? or by the shafts

  Of gentle Dian suddenly subdued?

  Speak to me also of my ancient Sire,

  And of Telemachus, whom I left at home;

  Possess I still unalienate and safe

  My property, or hath some happier Chief

  Admittance free into my fortunes gain’d, 210

  No hope subsisting more of my return?

  The mind and purpose of my wedded wife

  Declare thou also. Dwells she with our son

  Faithful to my domestic interests,

  Or is she wedded to some Chief of Greece?

  I ceas’d, when thus the venerable shade.

  Not so; she faithful still and patient dwells

  Thy roof beneath; but all her days and nights

  Devoting sad to anguish and to tears.

  Thy fortunes still are thine; Telemachus 220

  Cultivates, undisturb’d, thy land, and sits

  At many a noble banquet, such as well

  Beseems the splendour of his princely state,

  For all invite him; at his farm retired

  Thy father dwells, nor to the city comes,

  For aught; nor bed, nor furniture of bed,

  Furr’d cloaks or splendid arras he enjoys,

  But, with his servile hinds all winter sleeps

  In ashes and in dust at the hearth-side,

  Coarsely attired; again, when summer comes, 230

  Or genial autumn, on the fallen leaves

  In any nook, not curious where, he finds

  There, stretch’d forlorn, nourishing grief, he weeps

  Thy lot, enfeebled now by num’rous years.

  So perish’d I; such fate I also found;

  Me, neither the right-aiming arch’ress struck,

  Diana, with her gentle shafts, nor me

  Distemper slew, my limbs by slow degrees

  But sure, bereaving of their little life, 240

  But long regret, tender solicitude,

  And recollection of thy kindness past,

  These, my Ulysses! fatal proved to me.

  She said; I, ardent wish’d to clasp the shade

  Of my departed mother; thrice I sprang

  Toward her, by desire impetuous urged,

  And thrice she flitted from between my arms,

  Light as a passing shadow or a dream.

  Then, pierced by keener grief, in accents wing’d

  With filial earnestness I thus replied. 250

  My mother, why elud’st thou my attempt

  To clasp thee, that ev’n here, in Pluto’s realm,

  We might to full satiety indulge

  Our grief, enfolded in each other’s arms?

  Hath Proserpine, alas! only dispatch’d

  A shadow to me, to augment my woe?

  Then, instant, thus the venerable form.

  Ah, son! thou most afflicted of mankind!

  On thee, Jove’s daughter, Proserpine, obtrudes

  No airy semblance vain; but such the state 260

  And nature is of mortals once deceased.

  For they nor muscle have, nor flesh, nor bone;

  All those (the spirit from the body once

  Divorced) the violence of fire consumes,

  And, like a dream, the soul flies swift away.

  But haste thou back to light, and, taught thyself

  These sacred truths, hereafter teach thy spouse.

  Thus mutual we conferr’d. Then, thither came,

  Encouraged forth by royal Proserpine,

  Shades female num’rous, all who consorts, erst, 270

  Or daughters were of mighty Chiefs renown’d.

  About the sable blood frequent they swarm’d.

  But I, consid’ring sat, how I might each

  Interrogate, and thus resolv’d. My sword

  Forth drawing from beside my sturdy thigh,

  Firm I prohibited the ghosts to drink

  The blood together; they successive came;

  Each told her own distress; I question’d all.

  There, first, the high-born Tyro I beheld;

  She claim’d Salmoneus as her sire, and wife 280

  Was once of Cretheus, son of Æolus.

  Enamour’d of Enipeus, stream divine,

  Loveliest of all that water earth, beside

  His limpid current she was wont to stray,

  When Ocean’s God, (Enipeus’ form assumed)

  Within the eddy-whirling river’s mouth

  Embraced her; there, while the o’er-arching flood,

  Uplifted mountainous, conceal’d the God

  And his fair human bride, her virgin zone

  He loos’d, and o’er her eyes sweet sleep diffused. 290

  His am’rous purpose satisfied, he grasp’d

  Her hand, affectionate, and thus he said.

  Rejoice in this my love, and when the year

  Shall tend to consummation of its course,

  Thou shalt produce illustrious twins, for love

  Immortal never is unfruitful love.

  Rear them with all a mother’s care; meantime,

  Hence to thy home. Be silent. Name it not.

  For I am Neptune, Shaker of the shores.

  So saying, he plunged into the billowy Deep. 300

  She pregnant grown, Pelias and Neleus bore,

  Both, valiant ministers of mighty Jove.

  In wide-spread Iäolchus Pelias dwelt,

  Of num’rous flocks possess’d; but his abode

  Amid the sands of Pylus Neleus chose.

  To Cretheus wedded next, the lovely nymph

  Yet other sons, Æson and Pheres bore,

  And Amythaon of equestrian fame.

  I, next, the daughter of Asopus saw,

  Antiope; she gloried to have known 310

  Th’ embrace of Jove himself, to whom she brought

  A double progeny, Amphion named

  And Zethus; they the seven-gated Thebes

  Founded and girded with strong tow’rs, because,

  Though puissant Heroes both, in spacious Thebes

  Unfenced by tow’rs, they could not dwell secure.

  Alcmena, next, wife of Amphitryon

  I saw; she in the arms of sov’reign Jove

  The lion-hearted Hercules conceiv’d,

  And, after, bore to Creon brave in fight 320

  His daughter Megara, by the noble son

  Unconquer’d of Amphitryon espoused.

  The beauteous Epicaste saw I then,

  Mother of Oedipus, who guilt incurr’d

  Prodigious, wedded, unintentional,

  To her own son; his father first he slew,

  Then wedded her, which soon the Gods divulged.

  He, under vengeance of offended heav’n,

  In pleasant Thebes dwelt miserable, King

  Of the Cadmean race; she to the gates 330

  Of Ades brazen-barr’d despairing went,

  Self-strangled by a cord fasten’d aloft

  To her own palace-roof, and woes bequeath’d

  (Such as the Fury sisters execute

  Innumerable) to her guilty son.

  There also saw I Chloris, loveliest fair,

  Whom Neleus woo’d and won
with spousal gifts

  Inestimable, by her beauty charm’d

  She youngest daughter was of Iasus’ son,

  Amphion, in old time a sov’reign prince 340

  In Minuëian Orchomenus,

  And King of Pylus. Three illustrious sons

  She bore to Neleus, Nestor, Chromius,

  And Periclymenus the wide-renown’d,

  And, last, produced a wonder of the earth,

  Pero, by ev’ry neighbour prince around

  In marriage sought; but Neleus her on none

  Deign’d to bestow, save only on the Chief

  Who should from Phylace drive off the beeves

  (Broad-fronted, and with jealous care secured) 350

  Of valiant Iphicles. One undertook

  That task alone, a prophet high in fame,

  Melampus; but the Fates fast bound him there

  In rig’rous bonds by rustic hands imposed.

  At length (the year, with all its months and days

  Concluded, and the new-born year begun)

  Illustrious Iphicles releas’d the seer,

  Grateful for all the oracles resolved,

  Till then obscure. So stood the will of Jove.

  Next, Leda, wife of Tyndarus I saw, 360

  Who bore to Tyndarus a noble pair,

  Castor the bold, and Pollux cestus-famed.

  They pris’ners in the fertile womb of earth,

  Though living, dwell, and even there from Jove

  High priv’lege gain; alternate they revive

  And die, and dignity partake divine.

  The comfort of Aloëus, next, I view’d,

  Iphimedeia; she th’ embrace profess’d

  Of Neptune to have shared, to whom she bore

  Two sons; short-lived they were, but godlike both, 370

  Otus and Ephialtes far-renown’d.

  Orion sole except, all-bounteous Earth

  Ne’er nourish’d forms for beauty or for size

  To be admired as theirs; in his ninth year

  Each measur’d, broad, nine cubits, and the height

  Was found nine ells of each. Against the Gods

  Themselves they threaten’d war, and to excite

  The din of battle in the realms above.

  To the Olympian summit they essay’d

  To heave up Ossa, and to Ossa’s crown 380

  Branch-waving Pelion; so to climb the heav’ns.

  Nor had they failed, maturer grown in might,

  To accomplish that emprize, but them the son

  Of radiant-hair’d Latona and of Jove

  Slew both, ere yet the down of blooming youth

  Thick-sprung, their cheeks or chins had tufted o’er.

  Phædra I also there, and Procris saw,

  And Ariadne for her beauty praised,

  Whose sire was all-wise Minos. Theseus her

  From Crete toward the fruitful region bore 390

  Of sacred Athens, but enjoy’d not there,

 

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