Pebbles and Shells (Hawkes collection)/Pygmalion to Galatea
PYGMALION TO GALATEA
O soulless Galatea! Thou art stone,And yet my hands have given to thy formA grace that never yet was seen of flesh,And to thy brow a beauty never born.But no—my throbbing heart and fevered brainNe'er held so fair a dream of womanhood;My trembling hands but freed thee from the cold,Relentless stone that held thy matchless form,And thou didst live in some forgotten ageWhen men were gods and women were their queens.
O peerless Galatea! Thou art free,And I have wrought that rich deliverance.What wild, ecstatic joy it was to seeThy goddess features grow from out the stone,As year by year I labored slowly on.And, as I worked, it seemed thy noble faceGrew warm beneath my touch; I thought thy lipsWould surely speak when I had set them free;But when I pressed them with my own, the twainWere hard and cold and passionless as death.
O heartless Galatea! Speak to me,Though thou canst say but cold and cruel words;For I would see thee move thy speechless lipsE'en though their breath did freeze my very soul. I cannot bear to look upon thy faceIts cold indifference would break my heart,And drive me mad. I cannot bear to holdThy senseless hand, its lifeless touch is likeThe hand of death. Oh! give one simple signOf life and love and I will rest content!
O dearest Galatea! Live for meAnd I will crown thy life with priceless love.My watchful tenderness shall soothe thy painAnd shield thee from all sorrow and distress,My boundless love shall be thy refuge andThy strength and I will live to give thee joy.If love be dead and cold within thy breast,Mine own warm heart shall kindle it anewInto a flame that shall transcend the skies,And live though all things else in life shall fail.
O senseless Galatea! Thou art dead!And yet, I swear thy soul shall come again.Such love as mine would start the blood withinThy pulseless breast, and call thy spirit back,Though death had claimed it for a thousand years.My heart shall beat in mute appeal for thee,Each breath my lips shall cry aloud for thee,And all my life shall be a living prayerUnto the gods for thy deliverance;And I will watch, and wait, and pray, till heaven Shall give thee back to earth, or death shall looseMy cruel chains and let me go to thee.