As trophies on a carven tomb: nor less CH. So vast injustice, Lady, were not good. CH. Why should man suffer in thy feud with Zeus? With mockery of foison; every field With splendour aflame. For wheat the useless poppy The blue and yellow weeds that mock men's toil, Centaury and marigold in chequer'd plots: Where seed is sown, or none, shall dandelions And wretched ragwort vie, orchis and iris That in this vale she pluckt, shall spring a thousand. Where'er she stept anemones shall crowd, And the sweet violet. These things shall ye see. -But I behold him whom I came to meet, Hermes :-he, be he laden howsoe'er, Will heavier-laden to his lord return. HERMES (entering). Mighty Demeter, Mother of the seasons, Of arch-ancestral Rhea,—to thee Zeus sendeth 540 550. 560 Kindly message. He grieves seeing thy godhead Offended wrongly at eternal justice, 'Gainst destiny ordain'd idly revolting. Ever will he, thy brother, honour thee And willingly aid thee; but since now thy daughter To Zeus make thine own words, that thou hast found me Nor heed his summons to the courts of heav'n. 570 581 HER. Giv'st thou me nought but these relentless words? And on this spot, whence she was stol'n, restore her 590 [Giving a little bag of seeds. I will not see thee again until the day Thou lead my daughter hither thro' the gates of Hell. [Going. HER. Ah! mighty Queen, the lightness of thy gift Is greater burden than thy weighty words. [Exeunt severally r. and l. CHORUS. (1) Sisters! what have we heard! Our fair Persephone, the flower of the earth, (others) Alas!-alas!—ay me! 600 (2) And great Demeter's bold relentless word To Hermes given, Threatening mankind with dearth. (others) Ay me! alas! alas! (3 or 1) She in her sorrow strong Fears not to impeach the King of Heaven, And combat wrong with wrong.— (others confusedly) What can we do?-Alas! Back to our ocean-haunts return Το weep and mourn.— What use to mourn ? Nay, nay!-Away with sorrow: And look for joy to-morrow :— [(1) Nay, nay! hearken to me!] Nay, how forget that on us too, — The curse will fall. [(1) Hearken! I say!] What can we do? Alas! alas! 610 620 (1) Hearken! There's nought so light, But that in even balance 'twill avail Nothing of weight so small, Wholly to turn the scale. Let us our feeble force unite, And giving voice to tears, Assail Poseidon's ears; Rob pleasure from his days, Darken with sorrow all his ways, Until his shifty mind Become to pity inclined, And 'gainst his brother turn. (others) 'Tis well, thou sayest well. (2) Yea; for if Zeus should learn That earth and sea were both combined Against his cruel intent, 630 Sooner will he relent. (others) 'Tis well-we do it 'tis well. (1) Come let us vow. Vow all with one accord To harden every heart Till we have won Poseidon to our part. (all) We vow-we do it—we vow. (1) Till we have conquer'd heav'n's almighty lord And seen Persephone restored. (all) We vow-we vow. (1) Come then all; and, as ye go, Begin the song of woe. Song. Close up, bright flow'rs, and hang the head, Ye beauties of the plain, The Queen of Spring is with the dead, Ye deck the earth in vain. From your deserted vale we fly, And where the salt waves mourn Our song shall swell their burd'ning sigh ACT III CHORUS. Song. Lo where the virgin veiled in airy beams, Heav'n's gate hath unbarrèd, the golden With music endeth night's prisoning terror, 640 650 660 Inter se. That were a song for Artemis-I have heard -See, we have wreaths enough and garlands plenty If she should come. But think you she will come ?— ODE. O that the earth, or only this fair isle wer' ours With flow'ry woodland, stately mountain and valley, Nor ever a mortal envious, laborious, By anguish or dull care opprest, Should come polluting with remorseful countenance For us the grassy slopes, the country's airiness, The lofty whispering forest, Where rapturously Philomel invoketh the night And million eager throats the morn; With doves at evening softly cooing, and mellow We love the gentle deer, the nimble antelope; Mice love we and springing squirrels ; To watch the gaudy flies visit the blooms, to hear All thro' the spring-tide, thro' the indolent summer, Here might we dwell, forgetful of the weedy caves Enter Demeter. 670 680 690 CH. Hail, mighty Mother!--Welcome, great Demeter !(1) This day bring joy to thee, and peace to man! |