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IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 An Idyll of Constancy 
 
 BY 
 HOWARD V. SUTHERLAND 
 
 Author of " Idylls of Greece " 
 
 A little while and we Bhall be as these 
 Whose sighs dieturb'd Jane's starry silences. 
 
 
 Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 
 
 New York 
 
 1912 
 
Copyright 1912 by 
 Desmond FitzGerald, Inc. 
 
 
 f 
 ipz 
 
 gCl.A300639 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 1^ 
 
 N echo this of an immortal tale 
 Of woman's love, with all its constancy. 
 Idas, the friend of Jason, found at last 
 In fair Marpessa peace, as most men find, 
 Or soon or late, serene companionship 
 In one whose lips hint more than may be told. 
 For woman's love, since erst the world began, 
 Is oft unuttered; but like yonder blue 
 That swathes the rugged tops of solemn hills, 
 Proclaims itself by silence, by a glance 
 That lies like benediction on the soul. 
 The melody unheard, the airy song 
 Suggested by the silence, and the peace 
 Behind the moveless azure — these suggest 
 The love that bides behind a woman's lips. 
 For even when those lips proclaim their love. 
 And when her eyes shine promise, of her soul 
 Her love is silent fragrance, as its scent 
 The soul is of the love-desiring rose. 
 In olden days the tellers of these tales, 
 Who wove their fancies from the glinting webs 
 The gods blew earthward, or of memories 
 
 [3] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Robb'd the hush'd Past, have told how Idas won 
 The daughter of Evenus, racing him 
 With hot-soled feet ; and how he conquer'd him ; 
 And how the hoary runner plunged to death 
 Within the waters that assumed his name 
 And hid his body. But the victor claim'd 
 Her hand as prize and led her, happy-eyed. 
 From harsh ^tolia where her grace was lost 
 To his bright valleys in Messenia. 
 And she, Marpessa, in her husband found 
 Her girlhood's dream, and was most satisfied 
 To worship and be worship'd. In the dawn 
 She rose betimes to see him seek the woods 
 Before the deer were stirring; long ere noon, 
 Her household duties over, for her lord 
 She watch'd without the bronzen latticed gates 
 To lead him to their palace ; and when came 
 The softly-breathing Night with eyes of dream, 
 She raised her lips to him so brave and clean, 
 Who faced the stars as he had faced the sea. 
 Now, thinking back, it seems that in their woods 
 My lonely spirit saw them ; hand in hand. 
 Serene in silence, or with burning lips 
 Vowing their hearts' indifference to time, 
 Their love and their eternal constancy. 
 Youth's roses had departed from her cheeks ; 
 His locks were not so brown as when the waves 
 Flung their pure mist upon them; yet the gods 
 [4] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Still number'd them with lovely things, with all 
 That laugh'd and look'd not backward, nor 
 
 surmised 
 The night behind the promise of the day. 
 And deeming each the other beautiful 
 They both were young; for Age no finger lays 
 On her who 's loved ; and he whose lips receive 
 A heart's impassion'd murmurs, fears no more 
 The whisper'd warning from the lips of Death. 
 And even now she bade him weave for her 
 In such embroidery as color'd words 
 Can hang upon the silence, all the tale 
 Of Jason and his heroes ; how the sea 
 Curl'd angrily around them, while the wind 
 Shrill'd through its teeth its heritage of hate ; 
 He told her of the heroes ; and at last 
 Of dark Medea, who had charm'd his lord, 
 Or so the heroes said, and married him. 
 And then he told her how the land was full 
 Of awful mutterings of unseen mouths 
 That said her hands were bloody. Thus he told 
 The day's new gossip much as we to-day 
 May gossip in the twilight. Now, as then, 
 The idlest tale, if one but whisper it. 
 Finds ears to give it welcome ; now, as then, 
 The wind is bearer of the distant deed 
 And Truth is ever that which is untold. 
 
 [5] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And when she spoke it was of other things 
 That dearer seem'd to him than tales of war. 
 For she a woman was, and dream'd again 
 Of that first night when o'er her blessed hand 
 He bent and said he loved and worship'd her. 
 That eve they linger'd by a marble fane 
 Whose stilly whiteness fill'd their hearts with 
 
 peace, 
 And watch'd the dusk spread purple coverlets 
 Upon the mountains' summits. On the woods 
 Lay darker mantles, and the vales were black 
 With sleep that woo'd the cattle and the flowers. 
 They spoke no word, but watch'd with wonder- 
 ment 
 The many changes, knowing they were one 
 With hills and trees and all that graced the 
 
 vales. 
 Then, in her father's garden, he and she 
 That summer's night had wander'd. Far away 
 The heavy hills now slumber'd ; in the skies 
 The stars were gather'd, moving solemnly 
 Their order'd ways, expectant of the moon. 
 And now was heard the twitter of a bird, 
 And then a cricket's protest, else so still 
 The air about them that he caught the wind's 
 Soft whisper in her tresses ; and the while 
 She look'd away, his love o'erpower'd him 
 And he had touch'd those tresses with his lips. 
 
 [6] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 But she was dreaming then of — Ah! who knows? 
 Perhaps of him. Perhaps unknown to him 
 She sensed his adoration, as the flower 
 May sense at noon the pity of the dusk. 
 Perhaps, although she never felt that kiss, 
 Night's stilly voices whisper'd : " Thou art 
 
 loved!"; 
 Perhaps the stars proclaim'd it, or the wind. 
 The hopeless wind, whose love is long lament. 
 Perhaps she thought of whispers and of sighs. 
 Of cool-cheek'd roses brought on golden moms 
 With silv'ry words of greeting. Ah! who 
 
 knows ? 
 And wand'ring home beneath the risen moon 
 She lean'd to him a little, and his arm 
 Had almost dared to hold her prisoner. 
 But when at last they reach'd the shadow'd 
 
 porch, 
 By scented creepers shelter'd from the world, 
 Again love master'd him and, ere she knew, 
 His lips had seal'd his secret on her hands. 
 And though his eyes were hidden now from her, 
 And though his voice was silent, she was 'ware 
 That this no passion was, no youthful heat 
 To pass ere morning with the icy moon 
 And all her chaste attendants. This was love, 
 That grows in silence, love that worship is ; 
 Whose constant flame bums constantly above 
 
 [7] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Life's grey illusion, and essays to light 
 
 The hopeless highways through the realms of 
 
 Death. 
 And then with face uplifted, that his eyes 
 Might seek her own eyes' solace, he had told 
 His love for her, and how, as in a net 
 The tangled bird may flutter, now his heart 
 Was caught for ever by that guileless charm 
 With which the gods had graced her. He was 
 
 one 
 Who lived for action ; and his speech was bare 
 As winter's dreamless branches ; but a sheen 
 Encircled him that evening, and his words 
 Seem'd golden like the heart-song of a bird 
 That sings its joyous message in the sun. 
 And he had won her, though the moon was gone 
 Before, all lily-like, she droop'd to him 
 And kiss'd his forehead, saying she was his ; 
 And kiss'd again, as if she knew that now 
 The gods would eye them through unkindly lids 
 And wreck the flimsy fabric of their dream. 
 For they that sit in judgment love us not 
 Who dwell in Time, imprison'd, till we seek 
 The silence and the shadow. From their seats 
 They watch our vain endeavor, hear our sighs, 
 And note the eager groping of our hands 
 To hands that tremble uswards ; through the 
 
 dusk 
 
 [8] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Our whispers rise and vanish, and they hear, 
 And hollow laughter thins the lips of them. 
 For human loves are holy; our desire 
 Outflames their awful splendor ; and although 
 They scorn us, who are hostages of Death, 
 They envy us, and hate us for our dreams. 
 
 And so the while they linger'd in the woods, 
 
 And Idas bade her whisper, to her love 
 
 Marpessa told that story. And it seem'd 
 
 Each time he heard it, it was ever new, 
 
 Or, like a jewel held against the sun, 
 
 Took unknown beauties to it. Through the 
 
 trees 
 Serenity beheld them, marvelling, 
 As Nature ever marvels at the fair. 
 At so much happiness in two so fond. 
 In two so pure and perfect. To the trees 
 They seem'd akin, and to the wind-swept hills 
 Array'd in joyous colors; to the birds. 
 Singing from hearts so cramm'd with happiness 
 They never can outpour it, they were things 
 Half unsubstantial, with the tiny blooms 
 That smiled their stilly message of delight. 
 And when her voice was silent, and the tale 
 Was ended, he would question : " Even now 
 I know not how I won thee, I, whose arms 
 
 [9] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Have fear'd to clasp thy beauty." And she 
 
 smiled 
 And bade him wonder. " While I live," she 
 
 said, 
 " My love must needs be silent. When I die 
 I'll whisper thee its secret, and thy heart 
 Shall strain against the barriers of death 
 To bring me solace." And he bent to her, 
 And said : " I love thee, and would e'er abide 
 Within the folded pinions of thy soul. 
 At peace and happy. If thou venturest 
 Where ghosts await us ere I go with thee, 
 Thy love shall draw me thither; should I go, 
 I'll wait thy boat's still beaching, and assuage 
 Thy murmurs with the welcome of mine eyes." 
 " My love thou art," she whisper'd. " I am 
 
 thine. 
 Our day is at its morning; music fills 
 Our happy hearts as now the air is fill'd 
 With yon gay bird's impassion'd melody. 
 The noon shall follow with its sense of peace, 
 Then blessed evening with its memories 
 And all the sweet companionship of stars. 
 I gaze untroubled down the aisle of Time, 
 Because thy love shall guard me." Then he 
 
 kiss'd 
 The hand that touch'd ail-tenderly his hair. 
 " I only know I love thee," he replied. 
 [10] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 " Thy words are music ; let my silence be 
 The air that would contain them. Hark! a 
 
 bird 
 Has pity on my dumbness, and to thee 
 Would sing the benediction in my heart." 
 And then they listen'd, and the woods became 
 Their temple, and the bird its feather'd priest 
 Whose wholesome adoration pleased the gods. 
 Then Idas press'd his dear one close to him. 
 " It loves," he said. " It loves, and therefore 
 
 sings. 
 But though I love, my worship must be mute, 
 My fond Marpessa, my beloved wife." 
 And then, perhaps, she raised to his her lips 
 And saw, with closed eyes, the olden dream 
 In all its purity. Oh ! never say 
 That love is aught but holy. From the dark 
 We journey to the darkness; love, the while, 
 Enswathes us in its utter spotlessness 
 And makes of poor, imperfect instruments 
 Things worth the What's-to-f ollow. Love is all. 
 
 For two swift years the gods look'd carelessly 
 On Idas and Marpessa. There were wars 
 'Twixt god and god, intrigues and jealousies 
 To hold their bright attention ; otherwheres 
 Kings robed in purple, wearing crowns of gold, 
 Look'd at the stars perhaps too haughtily, 
 
 [11] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Or plann'd To-morrow's conquest ; them the 
 
 gods 
 Smote silently and swiftly, laughing long 
 To see the pomp that follow'd them to death, 
 As if they thought their banners or their plumes 
 Might alter Death's enorme solemnity, 
 Or hint : These once were kings. For two swift 
 
 years 
 Those lovers, now long silent, dream'd their 
 
 dreams. 
 They laugh'd together in the morning's cool 
 And raised their babes. And then the gods 
 
 look'd down 
 And saw their fondness, and an arch'd surprise 
 Above their heavy eyes bode ill to them. 
 
 m 
 
 S when great birds, white-plumaged, in 
 
 the foam 
 Of untrack'd seas from drowsiness 
 awake. 
 And make the bright air brighter with the flash 
 Of light-tipp'd wings, so now the shining 
 
 heavens 
 Wherein the gods gleam'd idly, seem'd awake 
 As, one by splendid one, they roused themselves. 
 [12] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Then moved among them a dehghtful boy, 
 The star-eyed Ganymedes, loved of Zeus, 
 Whose rounded limbs the winds kiss'd joyously 
 The while he slumber'd ; in his hand he bore 
 A crystal goblet topp'd with fragrant foam, 
 And touch'd each snowy shoulder. And the 
 
 gods 
 Were glad to see his pretty artlessness 
 So drank and laugh'd, and, laughing, drank 
 
 again. 
 And then on golden platters, finely wrought, 
 Most rich in pictures of heroic deeds 
 And loves now sung by singers and the stars, 
 The curl-brow'd boy to each reclining god 
 Took honey-sweet ambrosia, and they ate, 
 And thus renew'd their youth. And being fiU'd 
 They look'd again to where the fair earth 
 
 gleam'd 
 As gleams a crystal river when the sun 
 Pours its hot love upon it. Saying naught 
 They gazed thereon in silence, much as we 
 May watch the thing from which still Beauty's 
 
 breath 
 Has blown the grossness, idly wondering 
 Why Zeus had made a toy so beautiful. 
 Swiftly they saw with their all-seeing eyes 
 The mountains' majesty, the charm of vales, 
 The drowsy forest's beauty; from the woods 
 [13] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Their gaze turn'd slowly to the silv'ry streams 
 That wound through gay and flower-enamell'd 
 
 meads 
 And laugh'd while Death allur'd them to the sea. 
 They saw the city with its hordes of men 
 As blind and selfish as their sons to-day ; 
 Amassing wealth beyond the needs of them, 
 Disputing vainly in their ignorance 
 Of things as far beyond them as the stars. 
 They laugh'd to see the soldier's martial stride, 
 The condescension of the sated lord, 
 Who smiled on worth and frown'd on poverty 
 While Death stood silently beside his seat 
 And eyed him with grave patience. In their 
 
 hearts 
 They mock'd man's pride, and wish'd him bitter- 
 ness. 
 They saw the hardy peasant at his task 
 Behind his straining oxen ; on the hills 
 The piping boy with brown'd and sturdy limbs 
 Beside his sheep ; and where the rocking sea 
 Responded to the wooing of the sun, 
 And gleam'd its pleasure, bearded fishermen 
 Whose eyes roved landward where their loved 
 
 ones were. 
 They saw the priests perform the sacrifice 
 On ancient altars hewn from gleaming stone, 
 [14] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 While white-robed vestals watch'd the sacred 
 
 flames 
 And sang the solemn paeans ; in the fields 
 They saw the women bent above the grapes. 
 The tranquil kine amused them, for they thought 
 Of restless lo's heavy punishment; 
 And when a deer would raise its antler'd head, 
 Or the meek rabbit signal its affright 
 With lifted ears alert to every sound. 
 Their bright eyes widen'd as they hoped to see 
 A shepherd's wooing of a willing nymph. 
 And loud they laugh'd to hear what vows he 
 
 made 
 Of lasting faith, or swore to cherish her 
 Despite her fault ; for well the wise gods knew 
 The bees are fond while flowers are yet to 
 
 win. 
 But soon forget the flower that is despoil'd. 
 
 Apart from all the rest, Apollo sat, 
 But eyed the earth as idly. In his hair 
 Such glory linger'd that his face was bright 
 As is the sun itself, and yet his eyes 
 Were blacker than the gloom of wintry skies 
 Ere stars adventure from their hiding place. 
 One hand lay heavy on his marbled knee 
 As, forward bent, his gaze pierced fearlessly 
 The gulfs of blue ; the other held the lyre 
 [15] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 With which at times he charm'd his grave com- 
 peers 
 By dream-evoking music, strains as sad 
 As Day's bright scorn or Night's sweet con- 
 stancy. 
 But now, though Zeus oft eyed him lovingly 
 As if in supplication, at his side 
 The lyre was mute ; for where the trees enclosed 
 A moveless pool on that revolving sphere 
 Where dreams are born that Fate may mock at 
 
 them, 
 He saw — Marpessa. And the joy in him 
 Became extinguish'd like a blown out light 
 Because, ail-suddenly, he longed for her, 
 Who seemed a thing of whitest ivory 
 Within an em'rald casket; like a flame 
 His joy leap'd up and suddenly went out 
 And left his huge heart empty, as to-day 
 Our little joy as suddenly is gone 
 As is the fragrance of the fated rose. 
 But heedless of the ever-burning gaze 
 That flamed above her movements, in the pool 
 Marpessa bathed, her black hair having bound 
 About her brows ail-tightly. By the reeds 
 Her garments lay, and though they snowy were 
 Yet she was whiter, for her purity 
 Herself was, as its pallor is the moon, 
 And though a wife yet was she innocent. 
 [16] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 The pretty deer, with large and lustrous eyes 
 And hesitating hoofs, came from the trees 
 And nosed the glinting water, eyeing her 
 As though she were a thing of woods and hills, 
 A thing that knew and loved them ; and anon. 
 When they had sensed the lovehness of her 
 And sipp'd their fill, they turn'd their heads 
 
 from her 
 And shyly sought the forest's shade again. 
 The birds, attired in brilliant liveries, 
 Consider'd her a sister, look'd at her. 
 And sang while looking ; then, with wetted wings. 
 Flew to their mates and woke the scented 
 
 peace 
 With twitter'd gossip, till these others sought 
 The little pool that held the wonder-one. 
 Then, as he gazed, their swiftly-moving wings 
 Seem'd brighter to Apollo than the skies 
 When sunset tints them ; and he envied them 
 Their fondness for Marpessa. From his seat 
 He tower'd suddenly, as does the flame 
 The winds have tortured; and had sought her 
 
 then, 
 While yet his heart's Titanic hammering 
 Paled his bright face. But Zeus, the Father, 
 
 call'd. 
 And set him to a task that hinder'd him. 
 [17] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And once again, that same task being done, 
 He peer'd from out the shelter of a cloud 
 And saw Marpessa. It was even now, 
 And they that mock the destinies of men 
 Sat solemnly together, knee by knee, 
 Beneath grave Zeus and his all- jealous spouse. 
 And while they whisper'd of the day to come 
 The sad-eyed Dusk, with dreams in either hand, 
 Stepp'd from their midst and sought the weary 
 
 earth. 
 Before the gentle sorrow of her face 
 The light withdrew, to men whom Sleep still 
 
 bless'd 
 Bearing the day's illusion, and the hope 
 For that which, being granted, proves but vain. 
 And while he gazed upon the half-hush'd woods, 
 Where now the trees in blessed stilliness 
 Exhaled their souls, all-grateful for the day, 
 From out their gardens to the greater peace 
 Marpessa came, and Idas. Lover-like, 
 His arm was still about her; and again 
 He charm'd her with the story of their love 
 In days that now seem'd days of golden dream. 
 And though so oft the story he had told. 
 Yet seem'd it ever new. In wonderment 
 She walk'd beside him, raising trustingly 
 Her eyes to his when he a deed recall'd 
 That brought the Past back, and its memories. 
 [18] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Above their heads, where arched the heavy 
 
 boughs, 
 The birds cheep'd faintly, knowing that the 
 
 night 
 Was drawing nigh, and soon the hateful owl 
 Would hoot its feud against all feather'd things 
 And furry creatures, while the heartless moon 
 Cross'd regally the heavens. Amid the leaves 
 In blest security they hid their heads 
 Beneath their wings, and then the woods were 
 
 still 
 As if with expectation. And the while 
 The darkness thicken'd, by a well-known path 
 The lovers sought a bower beloved of them. 
 And whisper'd there, as if the birds might hear. 
 About their love that still so wondrous seem'd. 
 Forgetting naught they lived their dream 
 
 again — 
 Their first sweet stammer'd vows ; her first shy 
 
 kiss 
 When, so it seem'd, the gods had tum'd aside 
 In envy of a girl's pure tenderness ; 
 The silence that was music ; and the calm 
 That slowly flamed to passion — ^Ah ! if thou 
 Whose lids now droop above this halting line 
 Hast loved as they loved, but thy mem'ry paint 
 That perfect picture for thee. Having loved 
 Thou knowest all things perfect; one thou art 
 [19] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 With Idas or Marpessa. Kingdoms change, 
 Stars wane and mountains vanish ; love alone 
 Remains To-day what Yesterday it was, 
 And makes us kin to all that 's tum'd to dust. 
 
 And while the Night enswathed the sleeping 
 
 earth. 
 Asserting its dominion over men 
 Whose hearts were joyous, men whose hearts 
 
 were sad. 
 Where dream'd the gods, the ever-deathless ones. 
 It darken'd too. Each splendid star now faced 
 Its sister orb in silv'ry sympathy 
 And left the high air widow'd ; but there glow'd. 
 Where sat the gods, a steely after light 
 In luminous suggestion, such as woos 
 The crystal fringes of the rolling sphere 
 Where white-furr'd bear tread heavily the snow. 
 The winds stroked rhymeless music from their 
 
 harps, 
 Intoning solemnly their airy chant 
 In praise of Zeus. " Supremest! Thunderer! 
 Whose glance is as the lightning; thou whose 
 
 breath 
 Titanic cedars bends submissively. 
 Heaps sea on sea, extinguishes the stars ! 
 Gather'd from far we kneel and worship thee 
 In wild, unfetter'd music. We have seen 
 [20] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Man's pitiful endeavors, deeds and dreams 
 Beneath thy notice. Death makes mock of 
 
 them, 
 Whose little life is spent ere thou and thine 
 Are conscious of their being. Thee we praise, 
 Who art alone enduring; by whose will 
 We wake from nothing, by whose will we die." 
 But Zeus, with sad impenetrable eyes, 
 Gazed into space, well-knowing that at last 
 Creator and created are as one — 
 Are doom'd as is the sunset's holy glow, 
 Are vain as are the hopes of yesterday. 
 And then the gods that sat at Zeus's feet 
 With half-hush'd voices answer'd : " Thou art he 
 Whose eyes have dream'd all things of conse- 
 quence. 
 Before it came, thou knewest of To-day 
 And Destiny's decrees. We bend to thee 
 Who art the Father." And again the winds 
 Intoned their praise : " Thou only can'st out- 
 stare 
 The eyes of Time. Death lays no hands on 
 
 thee; 
 But crams his grey and echoless abode 
 With all that thou createst. Thou art he 
 To whom they wildly clamor ere they tread 
 The way that leads to silence and despair." 
 Then once again the gods' deep murmurs voiced 
 [21] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Their answ'ring adoration; but the eyes 
 Of Zeus were fix'd and moody. So the rock, 
 Unmindful of the passion of the sea, 
 Awaits its end ; it scorns the sun's caress. 
 The wind's advances and the lightning's hate. 
 
 And now the heights were silent. Cloud on 
 
 cloud. 
 With fleecy shoulders leaning each to each, 
 Took for the night their stations, while the winds 
 Remain'd without and roam'd, disconsolate. 
 The starry highways. One by splendid one 
 The gods lay down to wait Aurora's call 
 To see the dawnburst, note with ecstasy 
 The modest flower's unfolding, and delight 
 In that first note with which the happy bird 
 Heralds the day and all its promises. 
 Austerely silent, at the feet of Zeus 
 They fell asleep, or gazed through half-closed 
 
 . eyes 
 Upon the face that tower'd over them. 
 And once again, like huge and brooding birds. 
 The watchers of the tragedies of men 
 Lay couch'd amid the cloud-mass stillily ; 
 Prepared to dream of flights against the sun. 
 Enormous circlings to the pleasant earth 
 Or swift descents through endless gulfs of space. 
 But one was wakeful, one who lay apart 
 [22] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And strove to pierce with melancholy gaze 
 The moveless clouds — ^Apollo. At his side 
 His lyre still idle lay. No breathless tones 
 Lured fancies to the eyes of them that slept, 
 Or woke the others' musings. By himself 
 He lay and suffer'd, anxious for the dawn 
 That he might see Marpessa, and, ere night, 
 Win her from Idas and the things she loved. 
 
 * 
 
 HE morning dawn'd, a morn of joyous- 
 ness. 
 Of blue, bright skies ; a morn of wonder- 
 ment 
 So breathless that the ever-trilling lark 
 Outsung itself while mounting, flight by flight, 
 To where all space seem'd thirsty for its song. 
 A first, faint breeze, forerunner of the winds 
 That soon would follow, from the caves of pearl 
 Where homed the plaintive echoes of the deep 
 Came slowly forth, and fiU'd the airy aisles 
 With sea-sweet fragrance. As the trees awoke 
 They trembled slightly, and the whisp'ring 
 
 leaves 
 Greeted each other in the speech that is 
 More delicate than music. Moveless then, 
 [23] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Like virgins at the hour of sacrifice, 
 They stood and waited till with ruder hands 
 The winds should touch them, sway them to and 
 
 fro 
 In wildest dance, and leave them suddenly 
 To mourn their stripp'd and tatter'd draperies. 
 And while a silence still possess'd the air 
 Save for the dwindling cadence of the lark, 
 To where the steps led downward Idas came 
 From out the palace with his shaggy hounds. 
 Marpessa follow'd with his trusted spear 
 And bow and arrows ; but her dragging feet 
 And smileless lips betoken'd she was sad 
 This golden morning ; and had kept him there 
 To hear the first sweet prattle of their babes 
 Had he not seem'd so eager for the chase. 
 But when she laid his weapons at his feet, 
 And raised to his the question of her eyes. 
 He placed his arm about her, and his touch 
 Made her forget, who was so solely his. 
 " Nay, fear not, wife," he said. " Ere noon is 
 
 come 
 The hounds shall bay before the welcome gates. 
 And call thee forth to greet me. Thou shalt 
 
 see 
 My shoulders hid beneath the hugest skin 
 That made a bear seem fearful ; but thy feet 
 This very night, when o'er thy heavy lids 
 [24] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Sleep draws the velvet solace of his plumes, 
 
 Shall tread it as thou goest to thy couch 
 
 To dream of him who loves thee." " Ah," said 
 
 she, 
 " Who goes away is ever free of care ; 
 Who stays is heavy-hearted. Thou and I 
 Are one, my husband ; when thou leavest me, 
 Though the blest sunshine trembles in my hair. 
 My heart becomes the darksome lair of fear. 
 I love thee, Idas." " And I love thee, too," 
 Her husband answer'd. " I have thought of 
 
 thee 
 When, call'd in Greece's service, I have dared 
 The swift, unerring dart of bitter Death. 
 Thy love has kept me scathless, and thy voice 
 Has whisper'd me in hours of loneliness 
 Such words as gave me courage. I have lived 
 Since first I loved thee; and I love thee still. 
 And fain would live to win for thee and mine 
 Fresh honor and more glory. When I go 
 To fight for Greece, thou sayest not a word ; 
 Yet now I go to bring thee " Then he 
 
 laugh'd 
 And stroked the worry from her low, cool brow. 
 Then bade her note how eager were the hounds 
 To prove their mettle. And she clung to him 
 And look'd at him in silence. Ah! who knows 
 The thoughts behind a woman's trustful eyes, 
 [25] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Or senses all she suffers? Through the years 
 We take without a question all she gives, 
 But never know her. Infancy and age 
 Alike depend upon her; in his prime 
 Man strides alone to learn his destiny ; 
 He crowns himself whenever he succeeds, 
 But turns to her for comfort when he fails. 
 So Idas laugh'd and kiss'd her. " Smile on me," 
 He said at last, his weapons in his hand ; 
 " That when I venture where the woods are dark 
 Thine eyes shall light me, and the memory 
 Of thy sweet face may hearten me against 
 What odds may wait me in the monster's cave." 
 And while the eager dogs leap'd noisily. 
 Or whined with noses pointed to the woods, 
 She kiss'd his forehead ; and he strode away. 
 The dogs beside him watchful of his eye 
 And silent now as he was. And while yet 
 Marpessa's hands were clasp'd against her heart. 
 He pass'd within the menace of the woods. 
 
 And while her darlings slept, two pretty babes, 
 All pink and white and smiles and innocence. 
 To that same pool beyond the garden's walls 
 Marpessa went, unfearing. Now the woods 
 Were bright with promise, for the tallest trees 
 Beheld the first swift lances of the sun 
 Glint in the east, and drive in front of them 
 [26] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 The last doom'd line of hesitating grey. 
 
 But still the grass, from which her sandals 
 
 brush'd 
 Uncounted dewdrops mirroring the world, 
 Was cool in shadow, and the leaves were wet 
 As if the fleeing Night had wept o'er them. 
 And while she sped beneath the whisp'ring trees, 
 From glade to glade where now the startled hare 
 Look'd hurriedly upon her, and was gone, 
 She thought of Idas. Was it years ago 
 He woo'd and won her? Or but yestermom 
 She said she loved him.'' For it seem'd her love 
 Was like the light, the golden light of day, 
 That grew each moment stronger; scarce she 
 
 knew 
 How much she loved him. Ah! the gentle trees 
 That bent above the soil in sympathy 
 Would know her grief; and so she raised to 
 
 them 
 Her pleading hands ; and though they silent 
 
 were. 
 She sensed their pity and was comforted. 
 But ere she came to where the shaded pool 
 Invited with its stillness, in her path 
 Stood one so splendid that the sun itself 
 Could make his face no brighter. Curling locks, 
 That gleam'd above a forehead marble-pale, 
 Caught the descending glory, but his eyes 
 [27] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Were dark with mystery, black yet terrible 
 As passion is, that hungers for the thing 
 Beyond the fever'd reaching of its hand. 
 But though his face was flame, the form of him 
 So perfect was, so chastely wonderful, 
 That) awed to silence and astonishment, 
 Marpessa eyed him as a moment's dream. 
 Half-fearing he might vanish. Then a smile 
 Caress'd his lips, a smile so luminous 
 That now an added glory dower'd him 
 And made him light itself — light radiant 
 In, of all human forms, the form most beautiful. 
 Now, seeing he had charm'd her, as the flame 
 Ensnares the soft-wing'd priestess of the dark, 
 He spoke. " Marpessa ! " Just the name of 
 
 her. 
 But, oh! his voice was as the voice of one 
 Who deems his love for evermore removed 
 Beyond the bridgeless gulfs of hopeless death, 
 Beyond all winning. As the echoes died 
 The silence seem'd suggestive of a woe, 
 So heavily it lay upon the soul 
 Of her that listen'd. And the hand of her. 
 While still she faced him with untroubled eyes, 
 Was slowly lifted to her drooping lips 
 As if in question. But, before she spoke, 
 Again Apollo cried that airy name. 
 Again it echo'd till the glade was fiU'd. 
 [28] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 " Marpessa ! " Oh ! the tenderness of it. 
 And then he held his hand outstretch'd to her 
 And look'd his longing; but as yet she thought 
 She dream'd by daylight, and the thing would 
 
 pass 
 As all dreams pass, however beautiful. 
 And still his beauty charm'd her, and, anon, 
 The air contain'd her hesitating hand 
 And heard her whisper : " Art thou Love itself, 
 Or Beauty's spirit.'' Or art thou a man, 
 And made of that same perishable stuff 
 That waits for death to ease it of its pain.'' 
 Or do I dream and think thou gleamest there. 
 While naught's around me save the list'ning 
 
 trees 
 And shifting sunlight.'' If a man thou art, 
 Whence comest thou.'' What hero-bearing land 
 May claim thy service, and what mother's eyes 
 Have joy'd above thy beauty.? " Then in tones 
 That thrill'd at times the purest silences 
 Of highest heaven, Apollo answer'd her: 
 " Man am I not, nor subject unto death; 
 But number'd am with those whose gaze serene 
 Watches the world from heights of amethyst 
 Where sits my father. I am he that hymns 
 The song of morning, and, when even's torch 
 Reddens the west, I sing the requiem 
 That mourns the sun's down-going. I am he 
 [29] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 To whom the Muses listen, and the stars 
 Echo the songs that tremble from my lips. 
 My mother was Latona." While he spoke, 
 A startled cry escaped Marpessa's lips 
 As, fearing now his presence, she essay'd 
 To ease her eyes in darkness with her hand. 
 And still was silent. " Now thou knowest me," 
 The god continued, and his voice was soft 
 As that of waves on sands of drowsy isles. 
 " On sapphire morns of golden joyousness 
 Thy lips have sung my praises ; thou hast seen 
 The curling incense widen in its rise 
 To circle me with fragrance. Drop thy hands 
 That I may see the beauty of thine eyes, 
 
 fair Marpessa ! " Then she look'd at him, 
 Unconscious of his purpose. " Brightest god," 
 She whisper'd faintly as she lean'd to him ; 
 
 " Thou callest me Marpessa. What am I 
 That thou, in accents sweeter than the wind 
 On eves of pearl, should'st call me by my name.'' 
 
 1 am but mortal, and no more to thee 
 
 Than the doom'd flower that perishes with day." 
 And then he open'd wide his gleaming arms 
 And look'd at her, as he had often look'd 
 On other beauties willing to be won ; 
 And once again the forest heard him sigh: 
 " Marpessa ! fair Marpessa ! " Then at last 
 [30] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 She sensed his love, and straightway shrank 
 
 from him 
 As from a thing unclean and dangerous. 
 But he continued with a swifter speech 
 To tell his passion, " Ah ! thou knowest now 
 Why thus I cry ' Marpessa ' ! As I gazed 
 From heaven's bright heights and saw thee, in 
 
 my heart 
 Love's sudden torch was lighted. Thee I love. 
 Unearthly splendors woo me when I pass 
 Those ways serene ; the nymphs' white loveliness 
 Awaits me where the fern nods dreamily 
 Its acquiescence to the wooing wind. 
 But thou art fairer than the whitest nymph 
 That trembles in the moonlight. I have seen 
 Thy fated beauty, and I yearn for thee 
 As one in hell may hunger for the light." 
 But closer now she drew her purple robe 
 Across her breast. " Thou lovest hopelessly, 
 
 flame-bright god," she said. " My love is his 
 Who won me from my father, who has spun 
 His golden dreams about me till to him 
 
 1 seem as lovely as the brightest star. 
 Two babes remind us of our mating time, 
 Of days when yet we whisper'd each to each 
 The pretty nothings that to lovers are 
 More dear than all the wisdom of the years. 
 And now that we are cooler, side by side 
 
 [31] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 We go our way, believing in the gods 
 And one another, fearless of the end." 
 But now Apollo near'd her. " Thee and thine 
 One end awaits, Marpessa. Night by night 
 The silent boatman bears to silent shores 
 The voiceless ghosts of lovers such as ye. 
 My loves become immortal. Time nor Change 
 Can touch those favor'd of the deathless gods. 
 If thou wilt love me thou shalt dwell with me- 
 In everlasting splendor, and be praised 
 By men yet formless in the future's womb." 
 But now Marpessa laugh'd. " Where Idas goes, 
 My little ones must follow," she replied. 
 " Shall I forsake them in that bitter place, 
 And leave them lonely? Could a poet's song 
 Make shame less shameful.'' Oh! thou knowest 
 
 not, 
 Bright god of morning, of the heart that is 
 A wife's and mother's. Could I stay with thee 
 And hear thee singing while mine own were 
 
 crouch'd 
 In misty hell? And would thy kisses make 
 My sorrow for their desolation less? 
 Supreme art thou and very beautiful ; 
 But though thy lips have quiver'd with the song 
 That thrills the holy cedars, in thy heart 
 Abides no love, nor aught of tenderness 
 If thus thou judgest women." And again 
 [32] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 She laugh'd to think how Idas worship'd her, 
 And how she loved him. But, while yet she 
 
 laugh'd, 
 Apollo seized her. " Thou art mine," he cried, 
 And press'd his burning lips upon her own. 
 " Thy constancy shall vanish as the dew 
 Forsakes its love, the pallid asphodel, 
 When sunbeams woo it. When I sing to thee 
 Thy pulse shall quicken; when my heart shall 
 
 beat 
 Above thine own, thine eyes shall read in mine 
 Such dreams as force forgetfulness of all 
 Thy former dreamings. Thou shalt love me 
 
 yet. 
 Thy hand shall yet caress me, and thy lips 
 Shall cling to mine until all space shall seem 
 Too tiny for our swooning." And while yet 
 The forest echo'd with her bitter cry, 
 And all grew dark around her, in his arms 
 Apollo bore his burden from the glade. 
 
 * 
 
 ^IS listless dogs behind him, through the 
 woods 
 Strode Idas, singing. In a gloomy spot, 
 Where never satyr sprawl'd beneath the trees 
 Or teasing fauns dismay'd the restive deer, 
 [33] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 The lip-raised bear had met him. Silently 
 They faced each other, and the waiting dogs 
 Whined to attack their ancient enemy. 
 Then from his bow the hunter shot a shaft 
 That whizz'd its song of death, and in the throat 
 Of it, the hunted, pitilessly lodged. 
 And while the brown brute lunged to challenge 
 
 them. 
 The dogs sprang forward; but the bear was 
 
 quick, 
 And smote with thick and danger-dealing paws 
 Its rash tormentors. One as suddenly 
 Yelp'd and was dead; and then a second shaft, 
 By Idas sped from his complaining bow, 
 Smote the huge fury in its shaggy breast. 
 And now it gave no heed to snapping jaws. 
 But, dripping blood from not ignoble wounds, 
 O'erlook'd the baser things and sought the man. 
 Its equal in the forest. With a roar 
 That cow'd the dogs, the bear, uprear'd and 
 
 straight. 
 Confronted Idas. But the spear was poised, 
 The spear long envied of the Argonauts, 
 And, loosed, it travell'd like a thunderbolt 
 And smote the bear and drove him back again. 
 Then through the vast and bloody cavity 
 Pale Death rush'd in and chill'd its mighty 
 
 heart, 
 
 [34] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And closed its angry eyes against the woods. 
 And ere the hearten'd dogs could worry it 
 The noble beast crash'd down, and was as still 
 As is the fell'd tree, slaughter'd in its prime. 
 
 But when he reach'd his palace, and had cast 
 His shoulder's burden on the gleaming stairs, 
 Marpessa did not greet him. Through the halls 
 He strode and call'd her, but his children's cries 
 Apprised him she was absent. Then of them 
 That eyed him mutely, faithful servitors 
 Still proud to serve, he ask'd in curtest speech 
 If one had seen her. But they still were dumb 
 And shook their heads while looking on the 
 
 ground. 
 And though they search'd the palace, cried her 
 
 name 
 And sought the gardens over, not a sign 
 Of lost Marpessa brought the seekers joy. 
 But when, at fault, they tum'd to pray the 
 
 gods 
 Reveal their secret ; and with troubled eyes 
 Their master follow'd them, a blind old hound 
 Much favor'd of Marpessa bay'd the woods ; 
 And ever sniffing as she cross'd the grass 
 Went slowly forward, baying as she went. 
 Then Idas knew; and shouting to the slaves 
 To guard his children as they would their lives, 
 [35] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 He grasp'd his spear and follow'd. Yard by 
 
 yard 
 The hound went on, while Idas spoke to her, 
 Impatient, yet all-grateful for her aid. 
 And on and on, beneath the self-same pines 
 That saw on other days such happenings 
 As he might find delight in ; through such glades 
 Where Dian heard her moon-enamor'd maids 
 Relate the day's adventures ; how the deer 
 Escaped their arrows, or a drowsy herd 
 Gazed at their limbs with unbelieving eyes 
 And fell asleep again. But Idas' thoughts 
 Were fix'd on his Marpessa, and his gaze 
 Was strain'd upon the distance. Bush and tree 
 Seem'd fraught with menace to the one he loved, 
 And therefore hateful; so he hurried on 
 Behind the hound, and cheer'd her with his 
 
 voice. 
 And once she whined, and tum'd, then tum'd 
 
 again 
 And bay'd the louder; for her scent was keen 
 Although her eyes were useless. Overhead 
 The sun had cross'd the midline of the sky. 
 And slanting beams now fill'd the drowsy woods 
 With afternoon's still glory ; bush and tree 
 Alike seem'd golden, and a golden sheen 
 Fell on the uptum'd faces of the flowers. 
 But little now reck'd Idas of the hour, 
 
 [36] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And little of its beauty. Ah ! what sight 
 Might blind his eyes when once the baying 
 
 ceased 
 That now seem'd Hope's own music? Had the 
 
 pool 
 Forever closed above her? Or would she, 
 With lilies far less white and delicate, 
 Stare from its edge with fix'd, unseeing eyes 
 Upon the blue above them? Then he thought 
 Of how the bear had almost conquer'd him, 
 And saw her bruised and mangled in the fern. 
 But on and on the blind hound, baying, went 
 With Idas close behind her. Nearing now 
 The shadow'd pool, his heart grew heavier; 
 But while he steel'd himself to learn the fate 
 Of all he loved and cherish'd, once again 
 The hound stood still and sniff'd uneasily 
 The air about her. Then she whined and slunk 
 To where her master waited, glooming now, 
 His eyes so useless. Then again she sniff'd 
 The air itself, unmindful of the grass, 
 And seem'd at fault ; but ever from the pool 
 Would turn her head. And Idas petted her ; 
 But though she knew his meaning, on the grass 
 She lay and whined with fine, uplifted head, 
 And would not move. Then Idas left her there 
 To seek behind the bushes, finding naught, 
 
 [37] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And so came back, and watch'd her. Now he 
 
 knew 
 That she was borne from that well-trodden path 
 That cleft the forest to the shelter'd pool 
 By some grim enemy, or beast or man; 
 And while his hands were eager to bequeath 
 Red death on aught that held her, in his heart 
 Her face alone was imaged, only hers. 
 But while he wonder'd at the hound's distress, 
 And bade her seek and find again the scent. 
 There came a first, faint puff of perfumed wind 
 From off the mountains, and the hound leap'd 
 
 up 
 Alert and silent ; then she sniff'd again 
 And ever grew more eager. And at last. 
 When sure she seem'd of something, something 
 
 hid 
 From Idas' understanding, through the woods 
 Her full-mouth'd baying boom'd. Then on 
 
 again. 
 With head erect as if her eyes could see. 
 The faithful brute proceeded ; ever on 
 Now whining and now baying. And behind 
 Strode eager Idas, firm-lipp'd, resolute. 
 And hard his hand embraced his trusted spear. 
 
 The sun was setting ere he came on them. 
 While yet afar Marpessa heard the hound, 
 [38] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 And cried to Idas, knowing he was near. 
 And he had leap'd to clasp her, calling her 
 In tones that voiced his anguish, asking not 
 Why thus he found her with the god of song ; 
 But scorning him and hating. But the god 
 Still kept them parted, and had taunted him 
 With mocking words, the while confronting him. 
 " Fly hence while yet thou may'st," he cried to. 
 
 him. "4 
 
 " Thy wife is mine. Death holds his shroud 
 
 o'er thee; 
 But she has turn'd her glances to the heights 
 Where I abide in splendor. Mine she is ; 
 And me she loves for my immortal song 
 And all that makes me god-like." Hearing him 
 It seem'd to Idas that the gods had rock'd 
 The petty world, and that along with it 
 He totter'd to destruction. In his ears, 
 As booming seas may thunder in a cave, 
 A roaring menace sounded, and he clutch'd 
 The air about him wildly, giddily. 
 And could not speak ; could only clutch the air, 
 And stare at her whose name he could not say 
 Despite his heart's deep longing. But the voice 
 Of pale Marpessa cried across the dusk: 
 " I love thee, Idas ! In its constancy 
 My heart so steep'd is that it laughs at death. 
 The wolf will better rear our little ones 
 [39] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Than this bright Splendor who has threaten'd 
 
 us; 
 And, rather than be his, and dwell in light, 
 I'd feel once more thy lips upon mine eyes, 
 Hear once thy voice assure me of thy love, 
 And, with thine arm about me, seek the mists." 
 And though he could not answer her as yet, 
 He look'd his yearning, stunn'd and impotent 
 To cry his grief, but longing to unite 
 His iron hands around the marble throat 
 Of him who ever eyed him with disdain. 
 And still Apollo mock'd him : " She shall sit 
 With me in glory, and shall lean to me 
 When thou art long forgotten. At her feet 
 I heap my gifts of immortality 
 And love eternal. Go, while I am kind; 
 Thy wife my love is. If I stare at thee 
 Thy days are ended." And again she cried, 
 As one who sees her loved one perishing: 
 " I love thee, Idas, who art all to me ; " 
 And fain had touch'd him with her trembling 
 
 hand, 
 But could not. And while yet she gazed at 
 
 him 
 With love and anguish in the eyes so dear, 
 He found his speech and thunder'd : " God thou 
 
 art. 
 But foul seducer also. In the woods 
 [40] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Are they that hate thee — Isse, Chione, 
 
 And Zephyrus, whom Hyacinthus scorn'd. 
 
 Despite thy splendor, and thy gift of song, 
 
 Loathsome thou art to things of purity, 
 
 Defiler and vain boaster. In the skies 
 
 Thy station is, to serve the Thunderer, 
 
 Lest, anger'd, he chastise thee. Sweet thy 
 
 hymns 
 In ears that still are strangers to the songs 
 Of earth's dear birds. The while thou gleamest 
 
 there 
 Thou art a menace, and the foe of all 
 That makes our short-year'd life seem bearable. 
 I hate thee, and would rid the woods of thee. 
 Now aid thou me, great Zeus, a simple man, 
 Yet righteous in my anger and my love. 
 Guide thou my spear, and tip its point with 
 
 death 
 That I may slay this robber, win mine own, 
 And bless thee for thy succour." Swiftly then 
 He hurl'd the dart, but slipp'd and saw it pierce 
 An oak behind Apollo. And the god, 
 Now bright with anger, tore the quiv'ring shaft 
 From out the tree and posed to hurtle it 
 Against defenceless Idas. Even now 
 The mists were heavy in Marpessa's eyes. 
 And she was praying for the man she loved, 
 [41] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 When lo ! the shades were scatter'd. In their 
 
 midst 
 Stood one of grave, majestic countenance, 
 As golden as Apollo, but serene 
 And conscious of his power. Then to the earth 
 The spear was lower'd, and Marpessa's hand 
 Was raised in supplication. But the eyes 
 Of him that stood there were the eyes of one 
 Who awed all men to silence, and her words 
 Remain'd unutter'd in her anguish'd breast. 
 Then, turning first to where Apollo gleam'd. 
 He eyed him gravely. " Is dissension sweet," 
 He ask'd, and pointed to the lower'd spear, 
 " That thus ye fight when from the western skies 
 My glory is departing? From the soil 
 Sweet incense rises, and the trees are still'd 
 In solemn adoration. Even now 
 The stars prepare to smile upon the world. 
 And all is hush'd. The spear is in thy hand ; 
 Thy brow is anger'd. I await thy words." 
 And then Apollo storm'd. " The maid is mine, 
 I love her. She would share " But Idas 
 
 now 
 Strode hotly forward. " O great Zeus," he 
 
 cried, 
 " The bright god lies ! This woman is my wife, 
 My loved Marpessa. We are wed, are one. 
 Thy praise we sing together, and our babes 
 [42] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Await her in their cradle. She is mine." 
 And then the wroth Apollo frown'd at him : 
 " If I but speak thou fallest at my feet, 
 And hell shall open to receive thy ghost. 
 Who, then, art thou to look me in the eyes 
 And say: 'Thou liest'.'' I can harass thee 
 And make thy days a torment. Thou shalt 
 
 leam 
 My awful vengeance; thou shalt cry to me 
 As Jason cried when hurried to his death." 
 But Idas answer'd : " Nay, I fear thee not. 
 A man I am and I can die but once. 
 Death has for me no terrors. Could I hold 
 Thy gleaming hair, I'd stand erect in hell 
 And deem my life well ended but to shout: 
 ' Behold Apollo, who would harm my wife ! ' " 
 And then again Apollo raised his spear, 
 But Zeus commanded and again it dropp'd. 
 And then he turn'd to where Marpessa stood, 
 All pale and trembling. " It shall rest with 
 
 thee 
 To choose thy lover," said the grave-eyed god. 
 " But ponder well before thou utterest 
 Thy heart's desire. Beneath these gentle trees 
 A hero claims thee, and a gleaming god. 
 To each thou art a treasure, but to one 
 Thyself thou givest. It shall rest with thee 
 To choose thy destiny — to dwell on high 
 [43] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Or on the earth that is a part of thee. 
 Who loves Apollo must be sometimes sad. 
 The song that trembles on his crimson lips 
 Is heard by many and of many loved. 
 The woods are his, the mountains. Where he 
 
 goes 
 All hearts adore him, but he passes on 
 To other conquests and to other loves. 
 Apollo says he loves thee. If with him 
 Thou goest hence, thou shalt immortal be; 
 Shalt watch the birth of worlds, the vanishing 
 Of all that now is bright and wonderful. 
 Beside me thou shalt sit when life is done. 
 The stars shall be thy children, and the winds 
 Shall sing thy praises ere the dusk descends. 
 And if thy choice be Idas, thou shalt know 
 The even bliss of mortals and their griefs. 
 The dawn shall wake thee, and the night shall 
 
 bring 
 Thy head unto its pillow where lies his 
 Who shares with thee thy sorrow and thy joy. 
 Thy babes will love thee, but shall some day go 
 Beyond the silent longing of thine eyes, 
 Beyond thy hand's caresses. Even he. 
 Whose hair turns whiter while thou kissest it, 
 Must go at last; and thou must follow him. 
 And bid farewell to light and all that made 
 Thy little day seem perfect. Being gone 
 [44] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Thou soon shalt be forgotten. Few are they 
 Whose names are number'd with the names of 
 
 stars ; 
 Thy little pleasure must be had to-day. 
 For man is dust. His dreams are of the sky; 
 But all the toys that bring him happiness 
 Lie strewn between his cradle and his grave." 
 And while he spoke, Marpessa forward lean'd 
 As if to choose ; but with commanding eyes 
 The grave god held her while he spoke again. 
 " Apollo's hand would raise thee to the heights ; 
 But Sorrow's face in airy solitudes 
 Is not unknown, for she is everywhere 
 Where hearts may beat. She, too, will follow 
 
 thee 
 If thou with Idas goest. At her knees 
 Ye both must kneel when that dark hour comes 
 That comes alike to those whom Love makes one 
 And those whom Love ne'er blesses. Choose 
 
 thou now." 
 And while Apollo eyed her haughtily, 
 Too sure of conquest, Idas lean'd to her 
 With outstretch'd arms, still hungry for her 
 
 love 
 And fearful she might leave him. But his doubt 
 Was vain and idle, as a man's doubt is — 
 Who learns what love is only when 't is lost ; 
 For, laughing now, Marpessa ran to him, 
 [45] 
 
IDAS AND MARPESSA 
 
 Heedless of bright Apollo or of Zeus, 
 And with her arms close-twined about his neck 
 Cried : " Idas ! O my Idas ! " Thus they gazed 
 In eyes where tears were welling; thus they 
 
 stood 
 To all oblivious save their happy selves, 
 And said no word, but gazed, and gazed again. 
 And when at last they turn'd, it was to find 
 The gods had vanish'd and themselves alone. 
 Alone they stood amid the leafy peace. 
 Beneath the skies where now gleam'd wondrously 
 The blessed star of even ; in their hearts 
 The love that cares not what the future holds. 
 Nor ever dreams of death; and at their feet 
 The blind old hound, awaiting their caress. 
 
 [46] 
 
MAH 26 1912 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 llllilllliliillilii 
 
 018 393 929 4