Poems (Loveman)/Oedipus at Colonus
For works with similar titles, see Oedipus at Colonus.
OEDIPUS AT COLONUS.
Who rose like shadows between man and God.
—Shelley.
OedipusWho comes?Antigone Haemon, my lord.OedipusMake fast the door.There's terror in the barren wind tonight,Our privacy's unsur'd.HaemonNot as a foe—OedipusBut like the cormorant and musing owlThat feign a prayer in slayng. Hence, away!There are no kin where beggary sits scantAnd suffers for a pittance.AntigoneA true friend.Whose heart stood ever on the fallen sideAnd priveleged the losing. He brings news,Good news, we trust, to make ill fortune sweet. OedipusBut quick, or ere our ruined thoughts forget.HaemonO good my Lord, the princes both are slain,Fall'n in a quarrel fostered by the king;The eldest lies unburied.AntigonePatience, Gods!Lest I lose hope. This is the flaw that coilsOur searching patent. Oh! he weeps not yet,But stirr'd by the extremity of ache,Holds the dew scathless.OedipusSomething there cracks within!HaemonCourage, good friends, for of the moving kind,These are but bolts that shoot invisibly.OedipusGirl, hast thou fed them yet?AntigoneMy Lord, my Lexd!OedipusThe poor, the poor, that with unvised mouths,The piteous air importunate and load.I would have 'em all, all fed. AntigoneHe only hears.Pledges that follow like the sweet south windAnd leave no wake in peering. Father, father!O grief-recounted heart that bleeds to fixA finger on earth's cheapened misery.Poor seared eyes!Oedipus Let me be filial censor.Swear, there are no more honest men i' the world,Swear, that the best of us will err, lie, thieve,Throttle the mother's milk, convent such crimeAnd serious depredation of regard,That heaven stooping to the lips of hell,Breathe dross'd and vary-hued. Swear, swear, swear!AntigoneStill!You drift on passion's sea, that bears a hostOf wrecks precipitate and viewless craft.Take trust and anchor, all things work to good,We cease not to believe in miracles.OedipusHow? how? we shall have cause for joy full soon,Sorrow comes after. Let there be all things saidAnd nothing done. Look you, I am not vile,Only incapable of making goodHalf-blown offenses and their chariest truths.O monstrous! monstrous! I that feel, fawn, feed,To call my brother clod to the dull earth,And tread him as we do the brooded worm, I am well paid—well paid, I say! no needTo bare myself to the annealing windAnd beg for penitence a wintry shift,The quick confusion of our bitter blissSigns chaos into surety again—I shall sleep the long night out at last.AntigoneNo! No!Not yet! I'm all alone in the world.OedipusSoft, soft!The little children call me from the dark,Eteocles and Polynices—sons all,I held them dandled at my naked knee,And suckt fond kisses from their cherub lips,But none of them would come, none to help bear,My whole world's weight of leaden misery.AntigoneStay quenchless, eyes, until we weep our fill,My lord, I did not leave you, I—I came.OedipusThe mist between us works a deadly bar!I would see sweet eyes, know many numerous things,And let graced wit my madness overblaze,Comfort me, comfort me!AntigoneI do, but O!My heart's top-heavy. Oedipus Steep it in molten brine.And let there be a new dependencyTo breed quarled serpents. Beggar thy loveliness!Thy soul's the cistern, at the bottom liesTheir golden custom's vital esquiry.Alas! alas! I am so wretched, wretched—The end discrowns our need.AntigoneSigh hush, and sleep.What use to war with gods?OedipusWith my spent power,And from my degradation's dying stamp,What though I reck their fleecy thunderous hail,I curse—I curse—Antigone Woe's me! leave it unsaid.OedipusThe butterfly that scaped the crawling stage!Be as thou ever wast, best of thy kind,Kiss me—I face the dark—what, what, what, what!It breaks—Dies.Haemon Our jove-like souls are instrumentsThat quaver sometime in their playing. Rest,Life's but a moment's space of wilderment,Set in a sudden darkness. There's the swayThat profits by no fortune. AntigoneDone's the dream.I close thine eyes, I smooth thy stricken brow,Tenderly gods, the fault was not his own.HaemonWhere now, Antigone?Antigone To Thebes, my lord.HaemonThe king gainsays all kindness in his mood,His heart of stone derides that flawless gemThat burns in freezing. Measure your life with mine,I mean the intent, and let our fortunes beOne and commingled. It may hap that bothShall find some purpose meet.Antigone My duty first.The falcon we have strook deserves perforce,Such pity that the clouded heart can give.We yoke our sorrows to the midnight stars,And take their weight in silver.HaemonAh, not so.To dare the omnipotence of the Gods,And leap within their golden graciousness,This were most nobly done. But where the vow,Lessens itself upon the deeded heart,Were it not wise, think you Antigone,To rear and love self first? AntigoneMy hand aloneMust pile the laurel on his unbalmed corse,And kiss the ghastly death-dew from his eyes.I were not woman else.HaemonThen hear the truth.Our father's edict harbours instant death,With no more pity than the viewless air,That slays with kissing honey.AntigoneO just Gods!Make me unalterable to the end.Not fire, nor famine, and the halter's scourge,Swerve my set cause, but when the work is done,Give my grief rein to mourn the dear departed,And dew their noble memory in tears.Lie low! lie sweet! others have done the same,That drew not half the penance, summ'd not allCommitment on their head, but as it is,We thank the smiling Gods.HaemonThen take me with thee,And come what may, I'll follow in thy steps,The sea runs on forever.AntigoneLike our souls,That ebb and break. I go alone, my Lord.Farewell, farewell.Haemon Love speed you.