I .
Hush thee, Hag! be silent, thou
With eyes askant and hissing brow,
Mouth deep and black, with lips that hang
Dissevered by one ghastly fang —
Fit birth-place for a tale
At which the sun turns pale,
While Nature sickens in his glare —
Such horror as to upper air
Came never till this fated hour,
Came never yet from earth or sea,
Save when their dark and stormy power
From some deep cavern sent forth thee.
II.
Inly malevolent,
Seeming benevolent,
She-wolf, under thy snowy fleece
More to be dreaded
Than the Three-Headed
Whose barkings break the Hell world's peace;
Though foulest of the shapes of dread,
The gray, gaunt dog that bays the dead.
Eager, trembling stand we now,
Breathless, await the when and how;
Shadows from the cave of night,
Bring ye darkness? — bring ye light?
Secrets, the dead have kept so long,
How broke ye prisons deep and strong?
Spectres that lurked in the lives of men,
Deeds that were done without the sun,
Have ye a voice? — say where and when;
And your tale be told, your task be done,
And back no more
From Lethe's shore,
Unseemly phantoms, in our ken
Moping and mouthing, come again.
III .
But thou, as oft in other days,
With mind elate and bosom free,
For eager falsehood waiting praise —
Hear the earth curse thee: earth and sea
Shall make thee hateful; starry night
And mountains rosy with the morn
All thou hast sullied that was bright
Shall shame thee, babbler, with our scorn —
Shall make us hate thee with the might
Of banished love and hearts forlorn.
For when upon the fated strife
Of gloomy passions, darkening life,
Came peace — and all the stormy fight
Fell weaponless, as, with dawning light,
Lethean hopeful words were cast
Backward, with many a soft alas!
Into the darkness which holds fast
The shades that into its shadow pass,
The shame, the blame of all the past —
Unblest one! thou, in evil hour,
Hast found a nameless word to blast
The splendor in the grass and flower, —
To earth and air hast breathed a story
That, staining beauty in its birth,
And tearing all the scroll of glory,
And making all of vilest worth,
The star-crowned head of Heaven hoary,
Brings down with shame to the dust of earth.
IV .
Silence, silence! and leave us still,
Ere yet thy tale be done,
Though pale with doubt, with horror chill,
The image of the sun:
The world that reels beneath our feet,
The forms of things that from us flee,
But wait until our lips repeat
Earth's malediction upon thee.
Ere thou thyself fly, winged with fear,
Back to the stormy ocean, hear
Thy mother curse thee: " By the night
And this avenging sun, and me
The eldest, and not less in might,
Now to thyself a " terror" be!
Till watched by fear, and worn by flight,
Thou start from sleep, and hiss with fright.
Of all the furies latest born,
With all their fury, hate and scorn;
Accursed inheritrix of strife,
A sister-terror, sprung to life
From dire Medusa's blood — for thee,
Mortal like her, I see, I see
The bright steel gleam, and drops that fall
Red on my bosom, and appall
The hideous train of fear and pain
Gorgons, Erinnyes, that remain,
To fly the strong — the weak to hound
With phantoms, while my sun goes round.
Hush thee, Hag! be silent, thou
With eyes askant and hissing brow,
Mouth deep and black, with lips that hang
Dissevered by one ghastly fang —
Fit birth-place for a tale
At which the sun turns pale,
While Nature sickens in his glare —
Such horror as to upper air
Came never till this fated hour,
Came never yet from earth or sea,
Save when their dark and stormy power
From some deep cavern sent forth thee.
II.
Inly malevolent,
Seeming benevolent,
She-wolf, under thy snowy fleece
More to be dreaded
Than the Three-Headed
Whose barkings break the Hell world's peace;
Though foulest of the shapes of dread,
The gray, gaunt dog that bays the dead.
Eager, trembling stand we now,
Breathless, await the when and how;
Shadows from the cave of night,
Bring ye darkness? — bring ye light?
Secrets, the dead have kept so long,
How broke ye prisons deep and strong?
Spectres that lurked in the lives of men,
Deeds that were done without the sun,
Have ye a voice? — say where and when;
And your tale be told, your task be done,
And back no more
From Lethe's shore,
Unseemly phantoms, in our ken
Moping and mouthing, come again.
III .
But thou, as oft in other days,
With mind elate and bosom free,
For eager falsehood waiting praise —
Hear the earth curse thee: earth and sea
Shall make thee hateful; starry night
And mountains rosy with the morn
All thou hast sullied that was bright
Shall shame thee, babbler, with our scorn —
Shall make us hate thee with the might
Of banished love and hearts forlorn.
For when upon the fated strife
Of gloomy passions, darkening life,
Came peace — and all the stormy fight
Fell weaponless, as, with dawning light,
Lethean hopeful words were cast
Backward, with many a soft alas!
Into the darkness which holds fast
The shades that into its shadow pass,
The shame, the blame of all the past —
Unblest one! thou, in evil hour,
Hast found a nameless word to blast
The splendor in the grass and flower, —
To earth and air hast breathed a story
That, staining beauty in its birth,
And tearing all the scroll of glory,
And making all of vilest worth,
The star-crowned head of Heaven hoary,
Brings down with shame to the dust of earth.
IV .
Silence, silence! and leave us still,
Ere yet thy tale be done,
Though pale with doubt, with horror chill,
The image of the sun:
The world that reels beneath our feet,
The forms of things that from us flee,
But wait until our lips repeat
Earth's malediction upon thee.
Ere thou thyself fly, winged with fear,
Back to the stormy ocean, hear
Thy mother curse thee: " By the night
And this avenging sun, and me
The eldest, and not less in might,
Now to thyself a " terror" be!
Till watched by fear, and worn by flight,
Thou start from sleep, and hiss with fright.
Of all the furies latest born,
With all their fury, hate and scorn;
Accursed inheritrix of strife,
A sister-terror, sprung to life
From dire Medusa's blood — for thee,
Mortal like her, I see, I see
The bright steel gleam, and drops that fall
Red on my bosom, and appall
The hideous train of fear and pain
Gorgons, Erinnyes, that remain,
To fly the strong — the weak to hound
With phantoms, while my sun goes round.