I.The Drug-Shop, or, Endymion in EdmonstounPrefatory Note.
This poem received the nineteenth award of the prize offered by Professor Albert Stanburrough Cook to Yale University for the best unpublished verse, the Committee of Award consisting of Professors C.F.Tucker Brooke, of Yale University, Robert Frost, of Amherst College, and Charles M.Gayley, of the University of California.
I.
The Drug-Shop, or, Endymion in Edmonstoun"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never make his way." Letter of George Keats, 18--Night falls; the great jars glow against the dark, Dark green, dusk red, and, like a coiling snake, Writhing eternally in smoky gyres, Great ropes of gorgeous vapor twist and turn Within them.So the Eastern fisherman Saw the swart genie rise when the lead seal, Scribbled with charms, was lifted from the jar; And -- well, how went the tale? Like this, like this?...
No herbage broke the barren flats of land, No winds dared loiter within smiling trees, Nor were there any brooks on either hand, Only the dry, bright sand, Naked and golden, lay before the seas.
One boat toiled noiselessly along the deep, The thirsty ripples dying silently Upon its track.Far out the brown nets sweep, And night begins to creep Across the intolerable mirror of the sea.
Twice the nets rise, a-trail with sea-plants brown, Distorted shells, and rocks green-mossed with slime, Nought else.The fisher, sick at heart, kneels down; "Prayer may appease God's frown," He thinks, then, kneeling, casts for the third time.
And lo! an earthen jar, bound round with brass, Lies tangled in thecordage of his net.About the bright waves gleam like shattered glass, And where the sea's rim was The sun dips, flat and red, about to set.
The prow grates on the beach.The fisherman Stoops, tearing at the cords that bind the seal.Shall pearls roll out, lustrous and white and wan? Lapis? carnelian? Unheard-of stones that make the sick mind reelWith wonder of their beauty? Rubies, then? Green emeralds, glittering like the eyes of beasts? Poisonous opals, good to madden men? Gold bezants, ten and ten? Hard, regal diamonds, like kingly feasts?
He tugged; the seal gave way.A little smoke Curled like a feather in the darkening sky.A blinding gush of fire burst, flamed, and broke.A voice like a wind spoke.Armored with light, and turbaned terribly,A genie tramped the round earth underfoot; His head sought out the stars, his cupped right hand Made half the sky one darkness.He was mute.The sun, a ripened fruit, Drooped lower.Scarlet eddied o'er the sand.
The genie spoke: "O miserable one! Thy prize awaits thee; come, and hug it close! A noble crown thy draggled nets have won For this that thou hast done.Blessed are fools! A gift remains for those!"His hand sought out his sword, and lightnings flared Across the sky in one great bloom of fire.Poised like a toppling mountain, it hung bared; Suns that were jewels glared Along its hilt.The air burnt like a pyre.
Once more the genie spoke: "Something I owe To thee, thou fool, thou fool.Come, canst thou sing? Yea? Sing then; if thy song be brave, then go Free and released -- or no! Find first some task, some overmastering thing I cannot do, and find it speedily, For if thou dost not thou shalt surely die!" The sword whirled back.The fisherman uprose, And if at first his voice was weak with fear And his limbs trembled, it was but a doze, And at the high song's close He stood up straight.His voice rang loud andclear.
The Song.
Last night the quays were lighted; Cressets of smoking pine Glared o'er the roaring mariners That drink the yellow wine.
Their song rolled to the rafters, It struck the high stars pale, Such worth was in their discourse, Such wonder in their tale.
Blue borage filled the clinking cups, The murky night grew wan, Tillone rose, crowned with laurel-leaves, That was an outland man.
"Come, let us drink to war!" said he, "The torch of the sacked town! The swan's-bath and the wolf-ships, And Harald of renown!
"Yea, while the milk was on his lips, Before the day was born, He took the Almayne Kaiser's head To be his drinking-horn!
"Yea, while the down was on his chin, Or yet his beard was grown, He broke the gates of Micklegarth, And stole the lion-throne!
"Drink to Harald, king of the world, Lord of the tongue and the troth! To the bellowing horns of Ostfriesland, And the trumpets of the Goth!"Their shouts rolled to the rafters, The drink-horns crashed and rang, And all their talk was a clangor of war, As swords together sang!
But dimly, through the deep night, Where stars like flowers shone, A passionate shape came gliding -- I saw one thing alone.
I only saw my young love Shining against the dark, The whiteness of her raiment, The head that bent to hark.
I only saw my young love, Like flowers in the sun -- Her hands like waxen petals, Where yawning poppies run.
I only felt there, chrysmal, Against my cheek her breath, Though all the winds were baying, And the sky bright with Death.
Red sparks whirled up the chimney, A hungry flaught of flame, And a lean man from Greece arose; Thrasyllos was his name.
"I praise all noble wines!" he cried, "Green robes of tissue fine, Peacocks and apes and ivory, And Homer's sea-loud line,"Statues and rings and carven gems, And the wise crawling sea; But most of all the crowns of kings, The rule they wield thereby!
"Power, fired power, blank and bright! A fit hilt for the hand! The one good sword for a freeman, While yet the cold stars stand!"Their shouts rolled to the rafters, The air was thick with wine.I only knew her deep eyes, And felt her hand in mine.
Softly as quiet water, One finger touched my cheek; Her face like gracious moonlight -- I might not move nor speak.
I only saw that beauty, I only felt that form There, in the silken darkness -- God wot my heart was warm!
Their shouts rolled to the rafters, Another chief began; His slit lipsshowed him for a Hun; He was an evil man.
