'Nay now, for me is little need
New lots to cast' (so spake the Sun);
'One isle assign me for the meed
Of that diurnal course I run:
Behold beneath the glimmering sea
A land unclaimed, the land for me.'
Therewith he shot an arrowy ray
Down through the blue Ægean deep;
Thrilled by that magic dart of day,
The hidden isle shook off her sleep.
She moved, she rose, and with the morn
She touched the air, and Rhodes was born.
Then all about that starry sea
There ran a gratulating stir,
Her fellows for all time to be
In choral congress greeting her,
With air-borne song and flashing smiles,
A sisterhood of glorious isles.
And still as from his car on high
Her Lord his daily splendor sent,
She joyed to know his gladdening eye
On her, his best-beloved, was bent:
And ever in that fostering gaze
Grew up the stature of her praise.
What early wondrous might was hers,
The craftsmanship of cunning hands, Of that wise art the harbingers
Whose fame is uttered through all lands Then Rhodians by the Sun-god's side Besought Athene to abide.
She came, she loved the Rosy Isle,
And Lindos reared her eastward fane
To Rhodian chiefs she brought the while
New thoughts, new valiance in her train,
New hope to bind about their brows
The olive of her father's house.
Then won Diagoras that prize
Yet fairer than his silvery crown,
That voice whereby in godlike wise
His name through time goes deathless down.
In graven gold her walls along
Flamed forth the proud Pindaric song.
She too her own Athenians stirred
To that fair deed of chivalry,
That high imperishable word
That set the Rhodian Dorieus free,
And linked in unison divine
Her Lindian to her Attic shrine.
Bright hours, too brief! The shadowing hand Half barbarous of a giant form
Even the strong Sun-god's loyal land
Must wrap in mist of sombre storm,
When Hellas bowed, her birthright gone,
Beneath the might of Macedon.
Yet even then not lightly bound
Was Rhodes of any vanquisher;
With all his engines thundering round The City-stormer stormed not her. anon the Roman doom
Had sealed her spirit in the tomb.
Long ages slept she. Then a dream
Once more across her slumber shone, Cleaving the dark, a quickening gleam All-glorious as in days foregone;
A new God's presence nobler far
Than any Lord of sun or star.
He showed her him whose chosen head
Had leaned upon his holy breast;
'For John my well-beloved,' he said,
'Stand forth, a champion of the West,
Sealed with my name, and his in mine,
Our vanguard in the war divine.'
She rose, she stemmed the Moslem flood
That roared and ravined for her life,
Till drop by drop the knightly blood
Was drained in that stupendous strife;
Then, sole amid the o'erwhelming sea,
Sank in heroic agony.
Twice born, twice slain! all this is o'er
Three hundred years; yet may there be
(So strong a life is in thy core),
O Rhodes, another birth for thee.
Look up, behold this banner new,
The white cross on the field of blue.
Through all the Isles the broadening light
Creeps on its sure but lingering way,
And half are in the fading night
And half are in the dawning day:
Thou too, O Rhodes, shalt make thee one
Once more with freedom and the Sun.
FROM 'THE JUDGMENT OF PROMETHEUS.' 20
AGAIN the Thunderer spake: Titan, thy task
Is ended, but not ended be thy stay
Among thy peers, this company of Gods.
Here is thy place prepared, here dwell content,
Our counsellor at need, our new-won friend.
Rest here at ease, and learn the unfolded tale
By all these ages wrought in Heaven and Earth,
And changeful tribes of men, thy chosen care,
Once loved by thee alone; but now, be sure,
There is no God that hath not linked his name,
Perchance his race, to human hope and fear.
Stay then, for change by change is recompensed,
And new things now wax old, and old are new.'
He spake, and all the approving throng divine
With acclamation free applauded loud,
Bidding the Titan welcome and all hail;
Henceforth, they cried, a counsellor of Heaven,
Interpreter of Fate, and friend of Man.
But when their greeting ceased, and sought reply,
He raised his eyes, and with slow-moving gaze
Looked round on that celestial company.
Then with deep voice and mild he answering said:
'Deem not, O Gods, I lightly prize your call.
Thought of inveterate wrong, no longer now
By hourly instant anguish riveted,
Hath fallen from my soul, and left her free
To sweep on ample circles of her wing
Amid dim visions, slowly growing clear,
Of rolling age on age, her proper realm,
Her proper
lore; yet all I gladly learn:
Either of this new kindlier life of Heaven,
Or of that once-scorned world of suffering men,
Whereto your world is linked for ever now,
Right gladly would I hear, yet not as one
Quite shut from knowledge all these exiled years.
Think ye my Mother dear, deep-murmuring Earth,
Could find no means of message, when I lay
On the bare rock between her breast and Heaven?
That starry Heaven that made me know my life
Not unbefriended of celestial Powers,
Though other than Olympian; year by year,
Through height ineffable of frozen air,
Stooped the keen stars, and graved upon my soul,
In fateful characters of golden fire,
Deep and more deep, their slow-unfolding lore.
And more of what they told I too must tell,
Sometime, not now: enough of things to be
Hath been to-day revealed. But now, O Gods,
Farewell; I may not tarry for your voice,
Your friendly voice; but other voices call,
Inaudible to you, but to this heart
Admonitory, o'ermastering, deeply dear.
Yea, my racked being yearns for great repose,
Deep sleep and sweet, almost the sleep of death:
And after that, long time my life must pause
In meditative musing, now no more
Pierced by abrupt assault of arrowy pain.
Not here my place of rest; far hence I seek,
Beyond or world of Gods or world of men,
The Tower of ancient Kronos, where he dwells
Amid the Blessèd Isles, his final home,
The habitation of a holy calm.
There evermore the West-winds dewy-winged,
Borne o'er the Ocean-river, lightly breathe;
And over all that sweet and solemn realm
Broods a mild golden light of mellow beam,
Less bright by far than this celestial splendor,
A low warm light, as of eternal eve.
And there are gathered, or shall gather soon,
All my dear kindred, offspring of the Earth,
The brotherhood Titanic, finding there
Harbor desired, and after sore exile
Rejoining well content their ancient King.
Nor these alone; for to that saving shore
A race far other surely shall be called,
Of seed far humbler sprung, but by decree
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