Epithalamion

I.

Thou aged¹ unreluctant earth who dost
with quivering continual thighs² invite
the thrilling rain the slender paramour
to toy with thy extraordinary lust,
(the sinuous³ rain which rising from thy bed
steals to his wife the sky and hour by hour
wholly renews her pale flesh with delight)
-immortally whence are the high gods fled?

Speak elm eloquent⁴ pandar with thy nod
significant to the ecstatic earth
in token of his coming whom her soul
burns to embrace-and didst thou know the god
from but the imprint⁵ of whose cloven feet
the shrieking⁶ dryad sought her leafy goal,
at the mere⁷ echo of whose shining mirth
the furious hearts of mountains ceased to beat?

Wind beautifully who wanderest
over smooth pages of forgotten joy
proving the peaceful theorems of the flowers
-didst e'er depart upon more exquisite⁸ quest?
and did thy fortunate fingers sometime dwell
(within a greener shadow of secret bowers)
among the curves of that delicious boy
whose serious grace one goddess loved too well?

Chryselephantine Zeus Olympian
sceptred colossus of the Pheidian soul
whose eagle frights creation,in whose palm
Nike presents the crown sweetest to man,
whose lilied robe the sun's white hands emboss,
betwixt whose absolute feet anoint with calm
of intent stars circling the acerb pole
poises,smiling,the diadumenos

in whose young chiseled⁹ eyes the people saw
their once again victorious¹⁰ Pantarkes
(whose grace the prince of artists made him bold
to imitate between the feet of awe),
thunderer whose omnipotent¹¹ brow showers
its curls of unendured eternal gold
over the infinite breast in bright degrees,
whose pillow is the graces and the hours,

father of gods and men whose subtle throne
twain sphinxes bear each with a writhing¹² youth
caught to her brazen¹³ breasts,whose foot-stool tells
how fought the looser of the warlike zone
of her that brought forth¹⁴ tall Hippolytus,
lord on whose pedestal the deep expels
(over Selene's car closing uncouth)
of Helios the sweet wheels tremulous-

are there no kings in Argos,that the song
is silent,of the steep unspeaking tower
within whose brightening strictness Danae
saw the night severed¹⁵ and the glowing throng
descend,felt on her flesh the amorous¹⁶ strain
of gradual hands and yielding to that fee
her eager body's unimmortal flower
knew in the darkness a more burning rain?

2.

And still the mad magnificent herald¹⁷ Spring
assembles beauty from forgetfulness
with the wild trump¹⁸ of April:witchery
of sound and odour drives the wingless thing
man forth in the bright air,for now the red
leaps in the maple's cheek,and suddenly
by shining hordes¹⁹ in sweet unserious dress
ascends the golden crocus from the dead.

On dappled dawn forth rides the pungent²⁰ sun
with hooded²¹ day preening²² upon his hand
followed by gay untimid final flowers
(which dressed in various tremulous armor stun
the eyes of ragged²³ earth who sees them pass)
while hunted from his kingdom winter cowers,
seeing green armies steadily²⁴ expand
hearing the spear-song of the marching grass.

A silver sudden parody²⁵ of snow
tickles the air to golden tears,and hark!
the flicker²⁶'s laughing yet,while on the hills
the pines deepen to whispers primeval and throw
backward their foreheads to the barbarous bright
sky,and suddenly from the valley thrills
the unimaginable upward lark
and drowns the earth and passes into light

(slowly in life's serene²⁷ perpetual round
a pale world gathers comfort to her soul,
hope richly scattered²⁸ by the abundant sun
invades the new mosaic²⁹ of the ground
-let but the incurious curtaining dusk be drawn
surpassing nets are sedulously³⁰ spun
to snare³¹ the brutal³² dew,-the authentic³³ scroll
of fairie hands and vanishing with the dawn).

Spring,that omits no mention of desire
in every curved and curling thing,yet holds
continuous intercourse-through skies and trees
the lilac's smoke the poppy's pompous³⁴ fire
the pansy's purple patience and the grave
frailty of daises-by what rare unease
revealed of teasingly transparent³⁶ folds-
with man's poor soul superlatively brave.

Surely from robes of particoloured peace
with mouth flower-faint and undiscovered eyes
and dim slow perfect body amorous
(whiter than lilies which are born and cease
for being whiter than this world)exhales
the hovering³⁷ high perfume curious
of that one month for whom the whole years dies,
risen at length from palpitating veils.

O still miraculous³⁸ May!O shining girl
of time untarnished!O small intimate
gently primeval hands,frivolous feet
divine!O singular and breathless pearl!
O indefinable frail³⁵ ultimate pose!
O visible beatitude sweet sweet
intolerable!silence immaculate
of god's evasive audible great rose!

3.

Lover,lead forth thy love unto that bed
prepared by whitest hands of waiting years,
curtained with wordless worship absolute,
unto the certain altar at whose head
stands that clear candle whose expecting breath
exults upon the tongue of flame half-mute,
(haste ere some thrush with silver several tears
complete the perfumed paraphrase³⁹ of death).

Now is the time when all occasional things
close into silence,only one tree,one
svelte translation of eternity
unto the pale meaning of heaven clings,
(whose million leaves in winsome⁴⁰ indolence
simmer upon thinking twilight⁴¹ momently)
as down the oblivious⁴² west's numerous dun
magnificence conquers magnificence.

In heaven's intolerable athanor
inimitably tortured the base day
utters at length her soft intrinsic hour,
and from those tenuous⁴³ fires which more and more
sink and are lost the divine alchemist,
the magus of creation,lifts a flower-
whence is the world's insufferable clay
clothed with incognizable amethyst⁴⁴.

Lady at whose imperishable smile
the amazed doves flicker upon sunny wings
as if in terror of eternity,
(or seeming that they would mistrust a while
the moving of beauteous dead mouths throughout
that very proud transparent company
of quivering ghosts-of-love which scarcely sings
drifting in slow diaphanous⁴⁵ faint rout),

queen in the inconceivable embrace
of whose tremendous hair that blossom stands
whereof is most desire,yet less than those
twain perfect roses whose ambrosial⁴⁶ grace,
goddess,thy crippled thunder-forging groom
or the loud lord of skipping maenads knows,-
having Discordia's apple in thy hands,
which the scared shepherd gave thee for his doom-

O thou within the chancel of whose charms
the tall boy god of everlasting⁴⁷ war
received the shuddering⁴⁸ sacrament of sleep,
betwixt whose cool incorrigible⁴⁹ arms
impaled upon delicious mystery,
with gaunt limbs reeking⁵⁰ of the whispered deep,
deliberate groping ocean fondled o'er
the warm long flower of unchastity,

imperial Cytherea,from frail foam
sprung with irrevocable nakedness
to strike the young world into smoking song-
as the first star perfects the sensual dome
of darkness,and the sweet strong final bird
transcends the sight,O thou to whom belong
th ehearts of lovers!-I beseech⁵¹ thee bless
thy suppliant⁵² singer and his wandering word.