I prepared to flee

Into the dungeon core of that wild wood:

I fled three days – when lo! before me stood

Glaring the angry witch. O Dis! even now,

A clammy dew is beading on my brow,

At mere remembering her pale laugh, and curse.

570

“Ha! ha! Sir Dainty! there must be a nurse

Made of rose leaves and thistledown, express,

To cradle thee my sweet, and lull thee – yes,

I am too flinty-hard for thy nice touch:

My tenderest squeeze is but a giant’s clutch.

So, fairy-thing, it shall have lullabies

Unheard of yet: and it shall still its cries

Upon some breast more lily-feminine.

Oh, no – it shall not pine, and pine, and pine

More than one pretty, trifling thousand years;

580

And then ’twere pity, but fate’s gentle shears

Cut short its immortality. Sea-flirt!

Young dove of the waters! truly I’ll not hurt

One hair of thine: see how I weep and sigh,

That our heart-broken parting is so nigh.

And must we part? Ah, yes, it must be so.

Yet ere thou leavest me in utter woe,

Let me sob over thee my last adieus,

And speak a blessing. Mark me! Thou hast thews

Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race:

590

But such a love is mine, that here I chase

Eternally away from thee all bloom

Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb.

Hence shalt thou quickly to the watery vast;

And there, ere many days be overpassed,

Disabled age shall seize thee; and even then

Thou shalt not go the way of agèd men;

But live and wither, cripple and still breathe

Ten hundred years – which gone, I then bequeath

Thy fragile bones to unknown burial.

600

Adieu, sweet love, adieu!” – As shot stars fall,

She fled ere I could groan for mercy. Stung

And poisoned was my spirit; despair sung

A war-song of defiance ’gainst all hell.

A hand was at my shoulder to compel

My sullen steps; another ’fore my eyes

Moved on with pointed finger. In this guise

Enforcèd, at the last by ocean’s foam

I found me – by my fresh, my native home.

Its tempering coolness, to my life akin,

610

Came salutary as I waded in;

And, with a blind voluptuous rage, I gave

Battle to the swollen billow-ridge, and drave

Large froth before me, while there yet remained

Hale strength, nor from my bones all marrow drained.

‘Young lover, I must weep – such hellish spite

With dry cheek who can tell? While thus my might

Proving upon this element, dismayed,

Upon a dead thing’s face my hand I laid.

I looked – ’twas Scylla! Cursèd, cursèd Circe!

620

O vulture-witch, hast never heard of mercy?

Could not thy harshest vengeance be content,

But thou must nip this tender innocent

Because I loved her? – Cold, O cold indeed

Were her fair limbs, and like a common weed

The sea-swell took her hair. Dead as she was

I clung about her waist, nor ceased to pass

Fleet as an arrow through unfathomed brine,

Until there shone a fabric crystalline,

Ribbed and inlaid with coral, pebble, and pearl.

630

Headlong I darted; at one eager swirl

Gained its bright portal, entered, and behold!

’Twas vast, and desolate, and icy-cold;

And all around – But wherefore this to thee

Who in few minutes more thyself shalt see? –

I left poor Scylla in a niche and fled.

My fevered parchings up, my scathing dread

Met palsy half-way: soon these limbs became

Gaunt, withered, sapless, feeble, cramped, and lame.

‘Now let me pass a cruel, cruel space,

640

Without one hope, without one faintest trace

Of mitigation, or redeeming bubble

Of coloured phantasy – for I fear ’twould trouble

Thy brain to loss of reason – and next tell

How a restoring chance came down to quell

One half of the witch in me.

‘On a day,

Sitting upon a rock above the spray,

I saw grow up from the horizon’s brink

A gallant vessel: soon she seemed to sink

Away from me again, as though her course

650

Had been resumed in spite of hindering force –

So vanished; and not long, before arose

Dark clouds, and muttering of winds morose.

Old Aeolus would stifle his mad spleen,

But could not: therefore all the billows green

Tossed up the silver spume against the clouds.

The tempest came: I saw that vessel’s shrouds

In perilous bustle; while upon the deck

Stood trembling creatures. I beheld the wreck;

The final gulfing; the poor struggling souls:

660

I heard their cries amid loud thunder-rolls.

O they had all been saved but crazèd eld

Annulled my vigorous cravings: and thus quelled

And curbed, think on’t, O Latmian! did I sit

Writhing with pity, and a cursing fit

Against that hell-born Circe. The crew had gone,

By one and one, to pale oblivion;

And I was gazing on the surges prone,

With many a scalding tear and many a groan,

When at my feet emerged an old man’s hand,

670

Grasping this scroll, and this same slender wand.

I knelt with pain – reached out my hand – had grasped

These treasures – touched the knuckles – they unclasped –

I caught a finger: but the downward weight

O’erpowered me – it sank. Then ’gan abate

The storm, and through chill aguish gloom outburst

The comfortable sun. I was athirst

To search the book, and in the warming air

Parted its dripping leaves with eager care.

Strange matters did it treat of, and drew on

680

My soul page after page, till well-nigh won

Into forgetfulness – when, stupefied,

I read these words, and read again, and tried

My eyes against the heavens, and read again.

O what a load of misery and pain

Each Atlas-line bore off! – a shine of hope

Came gold around me, cheering me to cope

Strenuous with hellish tyranny. Attend!

For thou hast brought their promise to an end.

“In the wide sea there lives a forlorn wretch,

690

Doomed with enfeeblèd carcase to outstretch

His loathed existence through ten centuries,

And then to die alone. Who can devise

A total opposition? No one. So

One million times ocean must ebb and flow,

And he oppressed. Yet he shall not die,

These things accomplished. If he utterly

Scans all the depths of magic, and expounds

The meanings of all motions, shapes and sounds;

If he explores all forms and substances

700

Straight homeward to their symbol-essences;

He shall not die. Moreover, and in chief,

He must pursue this task of joy and grief

Most piously – all lovers tempest-tossed,

And in the savage overwhelming lost,

He shall deposit side by side, until

Time’s creeping shall the dreary space fulfil:

Which done, and all these labours ripened,

A youth, by heavenly power loved and led,

Shall stand before him, whom he shall direct

710

How to consummate all. The youth elect

Must do the thing, or both will be destroyed.” ’

‘Then,’ cried the young Endymion, overjoyed,

‘We are twin brothers in this destiny!

Say, I entreat thee, what achievement high

Is, in this restless world, for me reserved?

What! if from thee my wandering feet had swerved,

Had we both perish’d? ’ – ‘Look!’ the sage replied,

‘Dost thou not mark a gleaming through the tide,

Of diverse brilliances? ’tis the edifice

720

I told thee of, where lovely Scylla lies;

And where I have enshrinèd piously

All lovers, whom fell storms have doomed to die

Throughout my bondage.’ Thus discoursing, on

They went till unobscured the porches shone;

Which hurryingly they gained, and entered straight.

Sure never since king Neptune held his state

Was seen such wonder underneath the stars.

Turn to some level plain where haughty Mars

Has legioned all his battle; and behold

730

How every soldier, with firm foot, doth hold

His even breast. See, many steelèd squares,

And rigid ranks of iron – whence who dares

One step? Imagine further, line by line,

These warrior thousands on the field supine –

So in that crystal place, in silent rows,

Poor lovers lay at rest from joys and woes.

The stranger from the mountains, breathless, traced

Such thousands of shut eyes in order placed;

Such ranges of white feet, and patient lips

740

All ruddy – for here death no blossom nips.

He marked their brows and foreheads; saw their hair

Put sleekly on one side with nicest care;

And each one’s gentle wrists, with reverence,

Put cross-wise to its heart.

‘Let us commence,’

Whispered the guide, stuttering with joy, ‘even now.’

He spake, and, trembling like an aspen-bough,

Began to tear his scroll in pieces small,

Uttering the while some mumblings funeral.

He tore it into pieces small as snow

750

That drifts unfeathered when bleak northerns blow;

And having done it, took his dark blue cloak

And bound it round Endymion: then stroke

His wand against the empty air times nine.

‘What more there is to do, young man, is thine:

But first a little patience. First undo

This tangled thread, and wind it to a clue.

Ah, gentle! ’tis as weak as spider’s skein;

And shouldst thou break it – What, is it done so clean?

A power overshadows thee! O, brave!

760

The spite of hell is tumbling to its grave.

Here is a shell; ’tis pearly blank to me,

Nor marked with any sign or charactery –

Canst thou read aught? O read for pity’s sake!

Olympus! we are safe! Now, Carian, break

This wand against yon lyre on the pedestal.’

’Twas done: and straight with sudden swell and fall

Sweet music breathed her soul away, and sighed

A lullaby to silence. ‘Youth! now strew

These mincèd leaves on me, and passing through

770

Those files of dead, scatter the same around,

And thou wilt see the issue.’

‘Mid the sound

Of flutes and viols, ravishing his heart,

Endymion from Glaucus stood apart,

And scattered in his face some fragments light.

How lightning-swift the change! a youthful wight

Smiling beneath a coral diadem,

Out-sparkling sudden like an upturned gem,

Appeared, and, stepping to a beauteous corse,

Kneeled down beside it, and with tenderest force

780

Pressed its cold hand, and wept – and Scylla sighed!

Endymion, with quick hand, the charm applied –

The nymph arose. He left them to their joy,

And onward went upon his high employ,

Showering those powerful fragments on the dead.

And, as he passed, each lifted up its head,

As doth a flower at Apollo’s touch.

Death felt it to his inwards – ’twas too much:

Death fell a-weeping in his charnel-house.

The Latmian persevered along, and thus

790

All were re-animated. There arose

A noise of harmony, pulses and throes

Of gladness in the air – while many, who

Had died in mutual arms devout and true,

Sprang to each other madly; and the rest

Felt a high certainty of being blessed.

They gazed upon Endymion. Enchantment

Grew drunken, and would have its head and bent.

Delicious symphonies, like airy flowers,

Budded, and swelled, and, full-blown, shed full showers

800

Of light, soft, unseen leaves of sounds divine.

The two deliverers tasted a pure wine

Of happiness, from fairy-press oozed out.

Speechless they eyed each other, and about

The fair assembly wandered to and fro,

Distracted with the richest overflow

Of joy that ever poured from heaven.

– ‘Away!’

Shouted the new born god; ‘Follow, and pay

Our piety to Neptunus supreme!’ –

Then Scylla, blushing sweetly from her dream,

810

They led on first, bent to her meek surprise,

Through portal columns of a giant size,

Into the vaulted, boundless emerald.

Joyous all followed as the leader called,

Down marble steps, pouring as easily

As hour-glass sand – and fast, as you might see

Swallows obeying the south summer’s call,

Or swans upon a gentle waterfall.

Thus went that beautiful multitude, nor far,

Ere from among some rocks of glittering spar,

820

Just within ken, they saw descending thick

Another multitude. Whereat more quick

Moved either host. On a wide sand they met,

And of those numbers every eye was wet,

For each their old love found. A murmuring rose,

Like what was never heard in all the throes

Of wind and waters – ’tis past human wit

To tell; ’tis dizziness to think of it.

This mighty consummation made, the host

Moved on for many a league; and gained, and lost

830

Huge sea-marks, vanward swelling in array,

And from the rear diminishing away –

Till a faint dawn surprised them. Glaucus cried,

‘Behold! behold, the palace of his pride!

God Neptune’s palaces!’ With noise increased,

They shouldered on towards that brightening east.

At every onward step proud domes arose

In prospect – diamond gleams, and golden glows

Of amber ’gainst their faces levelling.

Joyous, and many as the leaves in spring,

840

Still onward, still the splendour gradual swelled.

Rich opal domes were seen, on high upheld

By jasper pillars, letting through their shafts

A blush of coral. Copious wonder-draughts

Each gazer drank; and deeper drank more near.

For what poor mortals fragment up as mere

As marble, was there lavish, to the vast

Of one fair palace, that far far surpassed,

Even for common bulk, those olden three,

Memphis, and Babylon, and Nineveh.

850

As large, as bright, as coloured as the bow

Of Iris, when unfading it doth show

Beyond a silvery shower, was the arch

Through which this Paphian army took its march,

Into the outer courts of Neptune’s state,

Whence could be seen, direct, a golden gate,

To which the leaders sped; but not half-raught

Ere it burst open swift as fairy thought,

And made those dazzlèd thousands veil their eyes

Like callow eagles at the first sunrise.

860

Soon with an eagle nativeness their gaze

Ripe from hue-golden swoons took all the blaze,

And then, behold! large Neptune on his throne

Of emerald deep – yet not exalt alone;

At his right hand stood wingèd Love, and on

His left sat smiling Beauty’s paragon.

Far as the mariner on highest mast

Can see all round upon the calmèd vast,

So wide was Neptune’s hall: and as the blue

Doth vault the waters, so the waters drew

870

Their doming curtains, high, magnificent,

Awed from the throne aloof. And when storm-rent

Disclosed the thunder-gloomings in Jove’s air

(But soothed as now), flashed sudden everywhere,

Noiseless, sub-marine cloudlets, glittering

Death to a human eye: for there did spring

From natural west, and east, and south, and north,

A light as of four sunsets, blazing forth

A gold-green zenith ’bove the Sea-God’s head.

Of lucid depth the floor, and far outspread

880

As breezeless lake, on which the slim canoe

Of feathered Indian darts about, as through

The delicatest air – air verily,

But for the portraiture of clouds and sky:

This palace floor breath-air, but for the amaze

Of deep-seen wonders motionless and blaze

Of the dome pomp, reflected in extremes,

Globing a golden sphere.

They stood in dreams

Till Triton blew his horn.