Keats; poems published in 1820/Hyperion
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HYPERION.
A FRAGMENT.
HYPERION.
BOOK I.
Deep in the shady sadness of a valeFar sunken from the healthy breath of morn,Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,Still as the silence round about his lair;Forest on forest hung about his headLike cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,Not so much life as on a summer's dayRobs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest. 10 A stream went voiceless by, still deadened more By reason of his fallen divinitySpreading a shade: the Naiad 'mid her reedsPress'd her cold finger closer to her lips.
Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,No further than to where his feet had stray'd,And slept there since. Upon the sodden groundHis old right hand lay nerveless, Ustless, dead,Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;While his bow'd head seem'd list'ning to the Earth, 20His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
It seem'd no force could wake him from his place;But there came one, who with a kindred handTouch'd his wide shoulders, after bending lowWith reverence, though to one who knew it not.She was a Goddess of the infant world; By her in stature the tall AmazonHad stood a pigmy's height: she would have ta'enAchilles by the hair and bent his neck;Or with a finger stay'd Ixion's wheel. 30
Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,Pedestal'd haply in a palace court,When sages look'd to Egypt for their lore.But oh! how unlike marble was that face:How beautiful, if sorrow had not madeSorrow more beautiful than Beauty's self.There was a listening fear in her regard,As if calamity had but begun;As if the vanward clouds of evil daysHad spent their malice, and the sullen rear 40Was with its stored thunder labouring up.One hand she press'd upon that aching spotWhere beats the human heart, as if just there,Though an immortal, she felt cruel pain: The other upon Saturn's bended neckShe laid, and to the level of his earLeaning with parted lips, some words she spakeIn solemn tenour and deep organ tone:Some mourning words, which in our feeble tongueWould come in these like accents; O how frail 50To that large utterance of the early Gods!"Saturn, look up!—though wherefore, poor old King?"I have no comfort for thee, no not one:"I cannot say, 'O wherefore sleepest thou?'"For heaven is parted from thee, and the earth"Knows thee not, thus afflicted, for a God;"And ocean too, with all its solemn noise,"Has from thy sceptre pass'd; and all the air"Is emptied of thine hoary majesty."Thy thunder, conscious of the new command, 60"Rumbles reluctant o'er our fallen house;"And thy sharp lightning in unpractised hands "Scorches and burns our once serene domain."O aching time! moments big as years!"All as ye pass swell out the monstrous truth,"And press it so upon our weary griefs"That unbelief has not a space to breathe."Saturn, sleep on:—O thoughtless, why did I"Thus violate thy slumbrous solltude?"Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes? 70"Saturn, sleep on! while at thy feet I weep."
As when, upon a tranced summer-night,Those green-rob'd senators of mighty woods,Tall oaks, branch-charmed by the earnest stars,Dream, and so dream all night without a stir,Save from one gradual solitary gustWhich comes upon the silence, and dies off,As if the ebbing air had but one wave;So came these words and went; the while in tears She touch'd her fair large forehead to the ground, 80Just where her falling hair might be outspreadA soft and silken mat for Saturn's feet.One moon, with alteration slow, had shedHer silver seasons four upon the night,And still these two were postured motionless,Like natural sculpture in cathedral cavern;The frozen God still couchant on the earth,And the sad Goddess weeping at his feet:Until at length old Saturn lifted upHis faded eyes, and saw his kingdom gone, 90And all the gloom and sorrow of the place,And that fair kneeling Goddess; and then spake,As with a palsied tongue, and while his beardShook horrid with such aspen-malady:"O tender spouse of gold Hyperion,"Thea, I feel thee ere I see thy face;"Look up, and let me see our doom in it; "Look up, and tell me if this feeble shape"Is Saturn's; tell me, if thou hear'st the voice"Of Saturn; tell me, if this wrinkling brow, 100"Naked and bare of its great diadem,"Peers like the front of Saturn. Who had power"To make me desolate? whence came the strength?"How was it nurtur'd to such bursting forth,"While Fate seem'd strangled in my nervous grasp?"But it is so; and I am smother'd up,"And buried from all godlike exercise"Of influence benign on planets pale,"Of admonitions to the winds and seas,"Of peaceful sway above man's harvesting, 110"And all those acts which Deity supreme"Doth ease its heart of love in.—I am gone"Away from my own bosom: I have left"My strong identity, my real self,"Somewhere between the throne, and where I sit"Here on this spot of earth. Search, Thea, search! "Open thine eyes eterne, and sphere them round"Upon all space: space starr'd, and lorn of light;"Space region'd with life-air; and barren void;"Spaces of fire, and all the yawn of hell.— 120"Search, Thea, search! and tell me, if thou seest"A certain shape or shadow, making way"With wings or chariot fierce to repossess"A heaven he lost erewhile: it must—it must"Be of ripe progress—Saturn must be King."Yes, there must be a golden victory;"There must be Gods thrown down, and trumpets blown"Of triumph calm, and hymns of festival"Upon the gold clouds metropolitan,"Voices of soft proclaim, and silver stir 130"Of strings in hollow shells; and there shall be"Beautiful things made new, for the surprise"Of the sky-children; I will give command:"Thea! Thea! Thea! where is Saturn?"
This passion lifted him upon his feet,And made his hands to struggle in the air,His Druid locks to shake and ooze with sweat,His eyes to fever out, his voice to cease.He stood, and heard not Thea's sobbing deep;A little time, and then again he snatch'd 140Utterance thus.—"But cannot I create?"Cannot I form? Cannot I fashion forth"Another world, another universe,"To overbear and crumble this to nought?"Where is another chaos? Where?"—That wordFound way unto Olympus, and made quakeThe rebel three.—Thea was startled up,And in her bearing was a sort of hope,As thus she quick-voic'd spake, yet full of awe.
"This cheers our fallen house: come to our friends, 150"O Saturn! come away, and give them heart; "I know the covert, for thence came I hither."Thus brief; then with beseeching eyes she wentWith backward footing through the shade a space:He follow'd, and she turn'd to lead the wayThrough aged boughs, that yielded like the mistWhich eagles cleave upmounting from their nest.
Meanwhile in other realms big tears were shed,More sorrow like to this, and such like woe,Too huge for mortal tongue or pen of scribe: 160The Titans fierce, self-hid, or prison-bound,Groan'd for the old allegiance once more,And listen'd in sharp pain for Saturn's voice.But one of the whole mammoth-brood still keptHis sov'reignty, and rule, and majesty;—Blazing Hyperion on his orbed fireStill sat, still snuff'd the incense, teeming upFrom man to the sun's God; yet unsecure: For as among us mortals omens drearFright and perplex, so also shuddered he— 170Not at dog's howl, or gloom-bird's hated screech,Or the familiar visiting of oneUpon the first toll of his passing-bell,Or prophesyings of the midnight lamp;But horrors, portion'd to a giant nerve,Oft made Hyperion ache. His palace brightBastion'd with pyramids of glowing gold.And touch'd with shade of bronzed obelisks,Glar'd a blood-red through all its thousand courts,Arches, and domes, and fiery galleries; 180And all its curtains of Aurorian cloudsFlush'd angerly: while sometimes eagle's wings,Unseen before by Gods or wondering men,Darken'd the place; and neighing steeds were heard,Not heard before by Gods or wondering men.Also, when he would taste the spicy wreaths Of incense, breath'd aloft from sacred hills,Instead of sweets, his ample palate tookSavour of poisonous brass and metal sick:And so, when harbour'd in the sleepy west, 190After the full completion of fair day,—For rest divine upon exalted couchAnd slumber in the arms of melody,He pac'd away the pleasant hours of easeWith stride colossal, on from hall to hall;While far within each aisle and deep recess,His winged minions in close clusters stood,Amaz'd and full of fear; like anxious menWho on wide plains gather in panting troops,When earthquakes jar their battlements and towers. 200Even now, while Saturn, rous'd from icy trance,Went step for step with Thea through the woods,Hyperion, leaving twilight in the rear,Came slope upon the threshold of the west; Then, as was wont, his palace-door flew opeIn smoothest silence, save what solemn tubes,Blown by the serious Zephyrs, gave of sweetAnd wandering sounds, slow-breathed melodies;And like a rose in vermeil tint and shape,In fragrance soft, and coolness to the eye, 210That inlet to severe magnificenceStood full blown, for the God to enter in.
He enter'd, but he enter'd full of wrath; His flaming robes stream'd out beyond his heels, And gave a roar, as if of earthly fire,That scar'd away the meek ethereal Hours And made their dove-wings tremble. On he flared,From stately nave to nave, from vault to vault, Through bowers of fragrant and enwreathed light,And diamond-paved lustrous long arcades, 220 Until he reach'd the great main cupola;There standing fierce beneath, he stampt his foot,And from the basements deep to the high towersJarr'd his own golden region; and beforeThe quavering thunder thereupon had ceas'd,His voice leapt out, despite of godlike curb,To this result: "O dreams of day and night!"O monstrous forms I effigiea of pain!"O spectres busy in a cold, cold gloom!"O lank-eared Phantoms of black-weeded pools! 230"Why do I know ye? why have I seen ye? why"Is my eternal essence thus distraught"To see and to behold these horrors new?"Saturn is fallen, am I too to fall?"Am I to leave this haven of my rest,"This cradle of my glory, this soft clime,"This calm luxuriance of blissful light,"These crystalline pavilions, and pure fanes, "Of all my lucent empire? It is left"Deserted, void, nor any haunt of mine. 240"The blaze, the splendor, and the symmetry,"I cannot see—but darkness, death and darkness."Even here, into my centre of repose,"The shady visions come to domineer,"Insult, and blind, and stifle up my pomp.—"Fall!—No, by Tellus and her briny robes!"Over the fiery frontier of my realms"I will advance a terrible right arm"Shall scare that infant thunderer, rebel Jove,"And bid old Saturn take his throne again."— 250He spake, and ceas'd, the while a heavier threatHeld struggle with his throat but came not forth;For as in theatres of crowded menHubbub increases more they call out "Hush!"So at Hyperion's words the Phantoms paleBestirr'd themselves, thrice horrible and cold; And from the mirror'd level where he stoodA mist arose, as from a scummy marsh.At this, through all his bulk an agonyCrept gradual, from the feet unto the crown, 260Like a lithe serpent vast and muscularMaking slow way, with head and neck convuls'dFrom over-strained might. Releas'd, he fledTo the eastern gates, and full six dewy hoursBefore the dawn in season due should blush,He breath'd fierce breath against the sleepy portals,Clear'd them of heavy vapours, burst them wideSuddenly on the ocean's chilly streams.The planet orb of fire, whereon he rodeEach day from east to west the heavens through, 270Spun round in sable curtaining of clouds;Not therefore veiled quite, blindfold, and hid,But ever and anon the glancing spheres,Circles, and arcs, and broad-belting colure, Glow'd through, and wrought upon the muffling darkSweet-shaped lightnings from the nadir deepUp to the zenith,—hieroglyphics old,Which sages and keen-eyed astrologersThen living on the earth, with labouring thoughtWon from the gaze of many centuries: 280Now lost, save what we find on remnants hugeOf stone, or marble swart; their import gone,Their wisdom long since fled.—Two wings this orbPossess'd for glory, two fair argent wings,Ever exalted at the God's approach:And now, from forth the gloom their plumes immenseRose, one by one, till all outspreaded were;While still the dazzling globe maintain'd eclipse,Awaiting for Hyperion's command.Fain would he have commanded, fain took throne 290And bid the day begin, if but for change.He might not:—No, though a primeval God: The sacred seasons might not be disturb'd.Therefore the operations of the dawnStay'd in their birth, even as here 'tis told.Those silver wings expanded sisterly,Eager to sail their orb; the porches wideOpen'd upon the dusk demesnes of nightAnd the bright Titan, phrenzied with new woes,Unus'd to bend, by hard compulsion bent 300His spirit to the sorrow of the time;And all along a dismal rack of clouds,Upon the boundaries of day and night,He stretch'd himself in grief and radiance faint.There as he lay, the Heaven with its starsLook'd down on him with pity, and the voiceOf Cœlus, from the universal space,Thus whisper'd low and solemn in his ear."O brightest of my children dear, earth-born"And sky-engendered, Son of Mysteries 310 "All unrevealed even to the powers"Which met at thy creating; at whose joys"And palpitations sweet, and pleasures soft,"I, Cœlus, wonder, how they came and whence;"And at the fruits thereof what shapes they be,"Distinct, and visible; symbols divine,"Manifestations of that beauteous life"Diffus'd unseen throughout eternal space:"Of these new-form'd art thou, oh brightest child!"Of these, thy brethren and the Goddesses! 320"There is sad feud among ye, and rebellion"Of son against his sire. I saw him fall,"I saw my first-born tumbled from his throne!"To me his arms were spread, to me his voice"Found way from forth the thunders round his head!"Pale wox I, and in vapours hid my face."Art thou, too, near such doom? vague fear there is:"For I have seen my sons most unlike Gods. "Divine ye were created, and divine"In sad demeanour, solemn, undisturb'd, 330"Unruffled, like high Gods, ye liv'd and ruled:"Now I behold in you fear, hope, and wrath;"Actions of rage and passion; even as"I see them, on the mortal world beneath,"In men who die.—This is the grief, O Son!"Sad sign of ruin, sudden dismay, and fall!"Yet do thou strive; as thou art capable,"As thou canst move about, an evident God;"And canst oppose to each malignant hour"Ethereal presence:—I am but a voice; 340"My life is but the life of winds and tides,"No more than winds and tides can I avail:—"But thou canst.—Be thou therefore in the van"Of circumstance; yea, seize the arrow's barb"Before the tense string murmur.—To the earth!"For there thou wilt find Saturn, and his woes. "Meantime I will keep watch on thy bright sun,"And of thy seasons be a careful nurse."—Ere half this region-whisper had come down,Hyperion arose, and on the stars 350Lifted his curved lids, and kept them wideUntil it ceas'd; and still he kept them wide:And still they were the same bright, patient stars.Then with a slow incline of his broad breast,Like to a diver in the pearly seas,Forward he stoop'd over the airy shore,And plung'd all noiseless into the deep night.
HYPERION.
BOOK II.
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wingsHyperion slid into the rustled air,And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad placeWhere Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.It was a den where no insulting lightCould glimmer on their tears; where their own groansThey felt, but heard not, for the solid roarOf thunderous waterfalls and torrents hoarse,Pouring a constant bulk, uncertain where.Crag jutting forth to crag, and rocks that seem'd 10 Ever as if just rising from a sleep,Forehead to forehead held their monstrous horns;And thus in thousand hugest phantasiesMade a fit roofing to this nest of woe.Instead of thrones, hard flint they sat upon,Couches of rugged stone, and slaty ridgeStubborn'd with iron. All were not assembled:Some chain'd in torture, and some wandering.Cœus, and Gyges, and Briareüs,Typhon, and Dolor, and Porphyrion, 20With many more, the brawniest in assault,Were pent in regions of laborious breath;Dungeon'd in opaque element, to keepTheir clenched teeth still clench'd, and all their limbsLock'd up like veins of metal, crampt and screw'd;Without a motion, save of their big heartsHeaving in pain, and horribly convuls'dWith sanguine feverous boiling gurge of pulse. Mnemosyne was straying in the world;Far from her moon had Phœbe wandered; 30And many else were free to roam abroad,But for the main, here found they covert drear.Scarce images of life, one here, one there,Lay vast and edgeways; like a dismal cirqueOf Druid stones, upon a forlorn moor,When the chill rain begins at shut of eve,In dull November, and their chancel vault,The Heaven itself, is blinded throughout night.Each one kept shroud, nor to his neighbour gaveOr word, or look, or action of despair. 40Creüs was one; his ponderous iron maceLay by him, and a shatter'd rib of rockTold of his rage, ere he thus sank and pined.Iäpetus another; in his grasp,A serpent's plashy neck; its barbed tongueSqueez'd from the gorge, and all its uncurl'd length Dead; and because the creature could not spitIts poison in the eyes of conquering Jove.Next Cottus: prone he lay, chin uppermost,As though in pain; for still upon the flint 50He ground severe his skull, with open mouthAnd eyes at horrid working. Nearest himAsia, born of most enormous Caf,Who cost her mother Tellus keener pangs,Though feminine, than any of her sons:More thought than woe was in her dusky face,For she was prophesying of her glory;And in her wide imagination stoodPalm-shaded temples, and high rival fanes,By Oxus or in Ganges' sacred isles. 60Even as Hope upon her anchor leans,So leant she, not so fair, upon a tuskShed from the broadest of her elephants.Above her, on a crag's uneasy shelve, Upon his elbow rais'd, all prostrate else,Shadow'd Enceladus; once tame and mildAs grazing ox unworried in the meads;Now tiger-passion'd, lion-thoughted, wroth,He meditated, plotted, and even nowWas hurling mountains in that second war, 70Not long delay'd, that scar'd the younger GodsTo hide themselves in forms of beast and bird.Not far hence Atlas; and beside him pronePhorcus, the sire of Gorgons. Neighbour'd closeOceanus, and Tethys, in whose lapSobb'd Clymene among her tangled hair.In midst of all lay Themis, at the feetOf Ops the queen all clouded round from sight;No shape distinguishable, more than whenThick night confounds the pine-tops with the clouds: 80And many else whose names may not be told.For when the Muse's wings are air-ward spread, Who shall delay her flight? And she must chauntOf Saturn, and his guide, who now had climb'dWith damp and slippery footing from a depthMore horrid still. Above a sombre cliffTheir heads appear'd, and up their stature grewTill on the level height their steps found ease:Then Thea spread abroad her trembling armsUpon the precincts of this nest of pain, 90And sidelong fix'd her eye on Saturn's face:There saw she direst strife; the supreme GodAt war with all the frailty of grief,Of rage, of fear, anxiety, revenge,Remorse, spleen, hope, but most of all despair.Against these plagues he strove in vain; for FateHad pour'd a mortal oil upon his head,A disanointing poison: so that Thea,Affrighted, kept her still, and let him passFirst onwards in, among the fallen tribe. 100
As with us mortal men, the laden heartIs persecuted more, and fever'd more,When it is nighing to the mournful houseWhere other hearts are sick of the same bruise;So Saturn, as he walk'd into the midst,Felt faint, and would have sunk among the rest,But that he met Enceladus's eye,Whose mightiness, and awe of him, at onceCame like an inspiration; and he shouted,"Titans, behold your God!" at which some groan'd; 110Some started on their feet; some also shouted;Some wept, some wail'd, all bow'd with reverence;And Ops, uplifting her black folded veil,Show'd her pale cheeks, and all her forehead wan,Her eye-brows thin and jet, and hollow eyes.There is a roaring in the bleak-grown pinesWhen Winter lifts his voice; there is a noiseAmong immortals when a God gives sign, With hushing finger, how he means to loadHis tongue with the full weight of utterless thought,120With thunder, and with music, and with pomp:Such noise is like the roar of bleak-grown pines;.Which, when it ceases in this mountain'd world,No other sound succeeds; but ceasing here,Among these fallen, Saturn's voice therefromGrew up like organ, that begins anewIts strain, when other harmonies, stopt short.Leave the dinn'd air vibrating silverly.Thus grew it up—"Not in my own sad breast,"Which is its own great judge and searcher out,130"Can I find reason why ye should be thus:"Not in the legends of the first of days,"Studied from that old spirit-leaved book"Which starry Uranus with finger bright"Sav'd from the shores of darkness, when the waves"Low-ebb'd still hid it up in shallow gloom;— Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/203 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/204 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/205 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/206 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/207 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/208 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/209 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/210 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/211 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/212 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/213 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/214 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/215 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/216 To where lie towered on his eminence.There those four shouted forth old Saturn's name;Hyperion from the peak loud answered, "Saturn!"Saturn sat near the Mother of the Gods,In whose face was no joy, though all the Gods 390Gave from their hollow throats the name of "Saturn!"
HYPERION.
BOOK III.
Thus in alternate uproar and sad peace,Amazed were those Titans utterly.O leave them, Muse! leave them to their woes;For thou art weak to sing such tumults dire:A solitary sorrow best befitsThy lips, and antheming a lonely grief.Leave them, Muse! for thou anon wilt findMany a fallen old DivinityWandering in vain about bewildered shores.Meantime touch piously the Delphic harp, 10 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/220 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/221 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/222 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/223 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/224 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/225 Page:Keats, poems published in 1820 (Robertson, 1909).djvu/226 His very hair, his golden tresses famedKept undulation round his eager neck.During the pain Mnemosyne upheldHer arms as one who prophesied.—At lengthApollo shriek'd;—and lo! from all his limbsCelestial**************
THE END.
NOTE.
Page 184, l. 310. over-foolish, Giant-Gods? MS.: over-foolish giant, Gods? 1820