"O mother lda, many-fountained Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. Idalian Aphrodite beautiful, Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian wells, With rosy slender fingers backward drew From her warm brows and bosom her deep hair And shoulder: from the violets her light foot "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. And I beheld great Here's angry eyes, "Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die. Fairest why fairest wife? am I not fair? - My love hath told me so a thousand times. When I past by, a wild and wanton pard, "O mother, hear me yet before I die. They came, they cut away my tallest pines, My dark tall pines, that plumed the craggy ledge High over the blue gorge, and all between The snowy peak and snow-white cataract Fostered the callow eaglet from beneath Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark morn The panther's roar came muffled, while I sat Sweep through them; never see them overlaid With narrow moon-lit slips of silver cloud, Between the loud stream and the trembling stars. “O mother, hear me yet before I die. I wish that somewhere in the ruined folds, And cast the golden fruit upon the board, And bred this change; that I might speak my mind, And tell her to her face how much I hate Her presence, hated both of Gods and men. “O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times, In this green valley, under this green hill, Even on this hand, and sitting on this stone? Sealed it with kisses? watered it with tears? O happy tears, and how unlike to these! O happy Heaven, how canst thou see my face? O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight? O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud, There are enough unhappy on this earth; Pass by the happy souls, that love to live: I I pray thee pass before my light of life, "O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me more and more, Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills, My far-off doubtful purpose, as a mother Ere it is born: her child! a shudder comes Across me never child be born of me, Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes! "O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone, Lest their shrill happy laughter come to me Walking the cold and starless road of Death Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love With the Greek woman. I will rise and go |