Orion/Book I/Canto II
ORION.
Canto the Second.
Midst ponderous substance had Orion's lifeDawned, and his acts were massive as his form.Those his companions of the forest ownedLike corporal forces, but their several mindsAnd aims were not as his. The Worker he,The builder-up of things, and of himself:His wood-friends were Rhexergon, of descentRoyal, heroic—breaker-down of things—A coaster, skilled in fishing and in ships;—Autarces, arch-backed like the forest boar,Short-haired, harsh-voiced, of fierce and wayward will;—Harpax, with large loose mouth, and restless hand,Son of the God of Folly by a maid Who cursed him—and the child, an idiot else,Grew keen, in rapine taking great delight;—Forceful Biastor;—smooth Encolyon,The son of Hermes, yet in all things slow,With sight oblique and forehead slanting high,The dull retarder, chainer of the wheel;—And Akinetos—who, since first the dawnSat on his marble forehead, ne'er had gazedOnward with purpose of activity,Nor felled a tree, nor hollowed out a cave,Nor built a roof, nor aided any work,Nor heaved a sigh, nor cared for anythingSave contemplation of the eternal scheme—The Great Unmoved—a giant much revered.
Forgotten by their sires in other loves,Here had they chiefly dwelt, and in these caves,Save two, Encolyon and the Great Unmoved,Who came from Ithaca. The islandersHad driven them thence; and this the idle cause.The barren stony land had ne'er producedEnough of grain for food; but by the skillOf their artificers in iron and brass,And by their herds of goats and cloud-woolled sheep, With other isles the Ithacans exchanged,And each was well supplied. Encolyon's brainSome goddess—and 't was Discord, as resultsMade plain—one night inspired with sage alarms,And straight the King of Ithaca he sought,Imploring him, "if that he duly prizedA heaven-blest crown and subjects all content,To drive the ships, sent from the neighbouring isles,Forth from his port, or sink the grain they brought:Else would his people, over-fed, grow slothful,Rude, and importunate with new conceits,And soon degenerating in their race,Neglect their proper island, and their King.But, on its own resources nobly forced,Then would the stony Ithaca becomeGreat in herself by self-dependent power."
To this the King gave ear, and on the shoreHe, with Encolyon, for an omen prayed;And soon along the horizontal lineRising, they saw a threatening rack of clouds,Black as the fleet from Aulis 'gainst doomed Troy,—In after-time well known. Encolyon cried"Behold propitious anger on the isle, For its wrong doings!" Wherefore all the grainFrom friendly islands they, with scorn, sent back.A famine soon in Ithaca spread wide,And hungry people prowled about at night,Then clamoured, and took arms—their war-cry "bread!"Thus was the dormant evil of their heartsAttested, and the King his people knew,And bitterly their want of reverence felt.
Encolyon, in his stature tall confiding,Though Akinetos warned him not to move,Went gravely forth the rebel throngs to meet.The politic giant's staid demeanour awedThe angry mass at first, and with their eyesThey seemed to listen, doubtful of their ears,So puzzling was his speech. He to the KingAnd his chief heroes then discoursed apart,Convincing them that all the wheels went well.With head bent sideways from the light, he lookedLike to some statesman of consummate mindWorking an ancient problem; and then spakeIn language critical, final, stolid, astute,Concluding with affectionate appealTo common sense, and all we hold most dear. "Keep down—put back—prevent! O Gods prevent!"This was his famous saying. Now the KingLed out his patriot army—but ere longThe army hungered too—the King was slain—Encolyon fled, and hid within a ship.
Forthwith a crowd to Akinetos thronged,Crying, "What say'st thou, giant who art wise?What shall we do?" And Akinetos said,"Great hunger is a single thing—one want:Satisfy that, and strength will be acquiredTo multiply desire—wants without end!Therefore be patient: leave all else to fate."
Stubborn the people as their own dry rocks—Enraged as the wild winds—to reason deaf—And also wanting food—cursed his calm thought—Cast stones upon him, and had surely slainBut that without resistance he bore all,And without word; so they, being tired, relented,And bore him to the ship, where, in the hold,Encolyon lay at length with in-drawn breath.To Chios sailed the ship. The IthacansChose a new king, and traded with the isles.
In this companionship Orion's bentOf nature had not merged; his working spiritSought from the fallen trunks and rocks to frameRude image of his fancies, till at lengthHe won Hephæaestos' love, from whom he learntThe god's own solid art. But this attained,And proved by mastery, a restless dreamDawned on his soul which he desired to shape,Yet knew not how, nor saw its like around,But vaguely felt at times, and thought he sawIn shadows. Wherefore through the forest depths,Through vales and over hills, a hunter fleetHe chased his unknown hopes; and when the stag,Or goat, or ounce, he overtook and seized,Ever he set them free, and e'en the bearAnd raging boar his spear refrained to strike,Save by its shadow, as they roaring fled.The bodily thing became to him as noughtWhen gained; nor satisfied with efforts passed.
Now from a Goddess did he quickly learnThe mystery of his mood, and saw how vainHis early life had been, and felt new rootsQuicken within him, branches new that sprung Aloft, and with expanding energiesTingled, and for immortal fruit prepared.
She met him in her beauty. Oft when dawnWith a grave red looked through the ash-pale woods,And quick dews singing fell, while with a pulseAs quick, Orion stood beneath the trees,And gazed upon the uncertain scene,—his heartForewarned his senses with a rapturous thrill.He turned, and from the misty green afar,In silence did the Goddess' train appearRounding a thicket. Slow the crowding houndsTript circling onward; Nymphs with quivered backs,And clear elastic limbs of nut-brown hue,Or like tanned wall-fruit, ripening and compact;And short-horned Fauns down gazing on their pipes;And Oceanides with tresses greenPlaited in order, or by golden netsIn various device confined, each bearingShell lyres and pearl-mouthed trumpets of the sea;Dryads and Oreads decked with oak-leaf crownsAnd heath-bells, dancing in the fragrant air;And Sylvans, who, half Faun, half shepherd, leadA grassy life, with cymbals in each hand Pressed cross-wise on the breast, waiting the sign;—Attendant round a pale gold chariot moved:By two large-antlered milk-white stags 't was drawn,Their sleek hides 'neath the fine dews quivering,In delicate delight. Above them roseThe fair-haired Goddess, onward softly gliding,As though erect she stood on wafted clouds.She smiled not; but the crescent on her browGleamed with a tender light. He knew 't was love.
Giddy with happiness Orion's spiritNow danced in air;—his heart tumultuous beatToo high a measure and too wild, to tasteThe fullness that he dreamed encompassed him,But he could not encompass, nor scarce dareClearly to recognize. And Artemis smiledUpon him with a radiance silver sweet,And o'er his forehead oft her hand she waved,Till visions of the purity of loveAbove him floated, and his being filled.
Language of Gods she taught him; and displayed,Far as 't was fitting, and from all gross actsRefined, their several wondrous histories: But chief of all, in accents nobly sad,She told of kindness by Poseidon done,His ocean sire, when swan-necked Leto bearingTwins of bright destiny and heirs of heaven—Herself and Phoibos—cruelly was drivenThrough the bleak ways of earth, and found no rest,Pursued by serpent jealousy, for ZeusHad loved fair Leto; how Orion's sireA floating isle that sometimes 'neath the wavesDrifted unseen, sometimes shewed watery rocks,Smote with his trident, and majesticalDelos arose—stood fast—and gave a homeTo fainting Leto,—and a place of birthFor deities—the Sun, and his loved Orb.The mysteries, worship, and the sacrificeOf her Ephesian Temple, she displayedBefore his wondering thought, and oft he kneltIn solitude, when of its hundred columns,Each reared by kingly hands, wakeful he dreamed,And felt his Goddess love too high removed.The ocean realm below, and all its cavesAnd bristling vegetation, plant and flower,And forests in their dense petrific shadeWhere the tides moan for sleep which never comes; All this she taught him, and continuallyKnowledge of human life made clear to himThrough facts and fables. He the intricate webOf nature, gradually of himself beganTo unwind, and see that gods and men were one—Born of one element, imperfect both,Yet aspirant, and with perfection's germSomewhere within. He brooded o'er these things.
One day, at noontide, when the chase was done,Which with unresting speed since dawn had.held,The woods were all with golden fire alive,And heavy limbs tingled with glowing heat.Sylvans and Fauns at full length cast them down,And cooled their flame-red faces in the grass,Or o'er a streamlet bent, and dipped their headsDeep as the top hair of their pointed ears;While Nymphs and Oceanides retiredTo grots and sacred groves, with loitering steps,And bosoms swelled and throbbing, like a bird'sHeld between human hands. The hounds with tongues,Crimson, and lolling hot upon the green,And outstretched noses, flatly crouched; their skins Clouded or spotted, like the field-bean's flower,Or tiger-lily, painted the wide lawns.
Orion wandered deep into a valeAlone; from all the rest his steps he bent,Thoughtful, yet with no object in his mind;Languid, yet restless. Near a hazel copse,Whose ripe nuts hung in clusters twined with grapes,He paused, down gazing, 'till upon his senseA fragrance stole, as of ambrosia waftedThrough the warm shades by some divinityAmid the woods. With gradual step he movedOnward, and soon the poppied entrance foundOf a secluded bower. He entered straight,Unconsciously attracted, and beheldHis Goddess love, who slept—her robe cast off,Her sandals, bow and quiver, thrown aside,Yet with her hair still braided, and her browDecked with her crescent light. Awed and alarmedBy loving reverence—which dreads offenceE'en though the wrong were never known, and feelsIts heart's religion for religion's self,Besides its object's claim—swift he retired.
The entrance gained, what thoughts, what visions his!What danger had he 'scaped, what innocent crime,Which Artemis might yet have felt so deep!He blest the God of Sleep who thus had heldHer senses! Yet, what loveliness had glancedBefore his mind—scarce seen! Might it not beIllusion?—some bright shadow of a hopeFirst dawning? Would not sleep's God still exertSafe influence, if that he once more stole backAnd gazed an instant? 'T were not well to do,And would o'erstain with doubt the accidentWhich first had led him there. He dare not riskThe chance 't were not illusion—oh, if true!While thus he murmured hesitating, slow,As slow and hesitating he returnedInstinctively, and on the Goddess gazed!
With adoration and delicious fear,Lingering he stood; then pace by pace retired,'Till in the hazel copse sighing he paused,And with most earnest face and vacant eye,And brow perplexed, stared at a tree. His handsWere clenched; his feet pressed down the soil, And changed their place. Suddenly lie turned round,And made his way direct into the bower.
There was a slumbrous silence in the air,By noon-tide's sultry murmurs from withoutMade more oblivious. Not a pipe was heardFrom field or wood; but the grave beetle's dronePassed near the entrance: once the cuckoo calledO'er distant meads, and once a horn beganMelodious plaint, then died away. A soundOf murmurous music yet was in the breeze,For silver gnats that harp on glassy strings,And rise and fall in sparkling clouds, sustainedTheir dizzy dances o'er the seething meads.With brain as dizzy stood Orion nowI' the quivering bower. There rapturous he beheld,As in a trance, not conscious of himself,The perfect sculpture of that naked form,Whose Parian whiteness and clear outline gleamedIn its own hue, nor from the foliage tookOne tint, nor from his ample frame one shade.Her lovely hair hung drooping, half unbound,—Fair silken braids, fawn-tinted delicately,That on one shoulder lodged their opening coil. Her large round arms of dazzling beauty layIn matchless symmetry and inviolate graceAlong the mossy floor. At length he droppedSoftly upon his knees, his clasped hands raisedAbove his head, 'till by resistless impulseHis arms descending, were expanded wide———Swift as a flash, erect the Goddess rose!
Her eyes shot through Orion, and he feltWithin his breast an icy dart. Confronted,Mutely they stood, but all the bower was filledWith rising mist that chilled him to the bone,Colder, as more obscure the space became;And ere the last collected shape he sawOf Artemis, dispersing fast amidDense vapoury clouds, the aching wintrinessHad risen to his teeth, and fixed his eyes,Like glistening stones in the congealing air.