A Selection From The Poems Of William Morris - Part 6
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Part 6

Is there some murmur in your ears, That all that we have done is nought, And nothing ends our cares and fears, Till the last fear on us is brought?

THE SIRENS.

Alas! and will ye stop your ears, In vain desire to do aught, And wish to live 'mid cares and fears, Until the last fear makes you nought?

ORPHEUS.

Is not the May-time now on earth, When close against the city wall The folk are singing in their mirth, While on their heads the May-flowers fall?

THE SIRENS.

Yes, May is come, and its sweet breath Shall well-nigh make you weep to-day, And pensive with swift-coming death, Shall ye be satiate of the May.

ORPHEUS.

Shall not July bring fresh delight, As underneath green trees ye sit, And o'er some damsel's body white The noontide shadows change and flit?

THE SIRENS.

No new delight July shall bring But ancient fear and fresh desire, And, spite of every lovely thing, Of July surely shall ye tire.

ORPHEUS.

And now, when August comes on thee, And 'mid the golden sea of corn The merry reapers thou mayst see, Wilt thou still think the earth forlorn?

THE SIRENS.

Set flowers upon thy short-lived head, And in thine heart forgetfulness Of man's hard toil, and scanty bread, And weary of those days no less.

ORPHEUS.

Or wilt thou climb the sunny hill, In the October afternoon, To watch the purple earth's blood fill The grey vat to the maiden's tune?

THE SIRENS.

When thou beginnest to grow old, Bring back remembrance of thy bliss With that the shining cup doth hold, And weary helplessly of this.

ORPHEUS.

Or pleasureless shall we pa.s.s by The long cold night and leaden day, That song, and tale, and minstrelsy Shall make as merry as the May?

THE SIRENS.

List then, to-night, to some old tale Until the tears o'erflow thine eyes; But what shall all these things avail, When sad to-morrow comes and dies?

ORPHEUS.

And when the world is born again, And with some fair love, side by side, Thou wanderest 'twixt the sun and rain, In that fresh love-begetting tide;

Then, when the world is born again, And the sweet year before thee lies, Shall thy heart think of coming pain, Or vex itself with memories?

THE SIRENS.

Ah! then the world is born again With burning love unsatisfied, And new desires fond and vain, And weary days from tide to tide.

Ah! when the world is born again, A little day is soon gone by, When thou, unmoved by sun or rain, Within a cold straight house shalt lie.

Therewith they ceased awhile, as languidly The head of Argo fell off toward the sea, And through the water she began to go, For from the land a fitful wind did blow, That, dallying with the many-coloured sail, Would sometimes swell it out and sometimes fail, As nigh the east side of the bay they drew; Then o'er the waves again the music flew.

THE SIRENS.

Think not of pleasure, short and vain.

Wherewith, 'mid days of toil and pain, With sick and sinking hearts ye strive To cheat yourselves that ye may live With cold death ever close at hand; Think rather of a peaceful land, The changeless land where ye may be Roofed over by the changeful sea.

ORPHEUS.

And is the fair town nothing then, The coming of the wandering men With that long talked of thing and strange, And news of how the kingdoms change; The pointed hands, and wondering At doers of a desperate thing?

Push on, for surely this shall be Across a narrow strip of sea.

THE SIRENS.

Alas! poor souls and timorous, Will ye draw nigh to gaze at us And see if we are fair indeed, For such as we shall be your meed, There, where our hearts would have you go.

And where can the earth-dwellers show In any land such loveliness As that wherewith your eyes we bless, O wanderers of the Minyae, Worn toilers over land and sea?

ORPHEUS.

Fair as the lightning thwart the sky, As sun-dyed snow upon the high Untrodden heaps of threatening stone The eagle looks upon alone, O fair as the doomed victim's wreath, O fair as deadly sleep and death, What will ye with them, earthly men, To mate your three-score years and ten?

Toil rather, suffer and be free, Betwixt the green earth and the sea.

THE SIRENS.

If ye be bold with us to go, Things such as happy dreams may show Shall your once heavy eyes behold About our palaces of gold; Where waters 'neath the waters run, And from o'erhead a harmless sun Gleams through the woods of chrysolite.

There gardens fairer to the sight Than those of the Phaeacian king Shall ye behold; and, wondering, Gaze on the sea-born fruit and flowers, And thornless and unchanging bowers, Whereof the May-time knoweth nought.

So to the pillared house being brought, Poor souls, ye shall not be alone, For o'er the floors of pale blue stone All day such feet as ours shall pa.s.s, And, 'twixt the glimmering walls of gla.s.s, Such bodies garlanded with gold, So faint, so fair, shall ye behold, And clean forget the treachery Of changing earth and tumbling sea.

ORPHEUS.

O the sweet valley of deep gra.s.s, Where-through the summer stream doth pa.s.s, In chain of shallow, and still pool, From misty morn to evening cool; Where the black ivy creeps and twines O'er the dark-armed, red-trunked pines, Whence clattering the pigeon flits, Or, brooding o'er her thin eggs, sits, And every hollow of the hills With echoing song the mavis fills.

There by the stream, all unafraid, Shall stand the happy shepherd maid, Alone in first of sunlit hours; Behind her, on the dewy flowers, Her homespun woollen raiment lies, And her white limbs and sweet grey eyes Shine from the calm green pool and deep, While round about the swallows sweep, Not silent; and would G.o.d that we, Like them, were landed from the sea.

THE SIRENS.

Shall we not rise with you at night, Up through the shimmering green twilight, That maketh there our changeless day, Then going through the moonlight grey, Shall we not sit upon these sands, To think upon the troublous lands Long left behind, where once ye were, When every day brought change and fear?

There, with white arms about you twined, And shuddering somewhat at the wind That ye rejoiced erewhile to meet, Be happy, while old stories sweet, Half understood, float round your ears, And fill your eyes with happy tears.

Ah! while we sing unto you there, As now we sing, with yellow hair Blown round about these pearly limbs, While underneath the grey sky swims The light sh.e.l.l-sailor of the waves, And to our song, from sea-filled caves Booms out an echoing harmony, Shall ye not love the peaceful sea?

ORPHEUS.

Nigh the vine-covered hillocks green, In days agone, have I not seen The brown-clad maidens amorous, Below the long rose-trellised house, Dance to the querulous pipe and shrill, When the grey shadow of the hill Was lengthening at the end of day?