But now, as on some eldest oak, decay93
In the proud topmost boughs is serely shown;
While life yet shoots from every humbler spray—
So, of the royal tribe one branch alone
Remains; and all the honours of the race
Lend their last bloom to smile in Ægle's face.[12]
The great arch-priest (to whom the laws assign94
The charge of this sweet blossom from the bud),
Consults the annals archived in the shrine,
And, twice before, when fail'd the Lartian blood,
And no male heir was found, the guiding page
Records the expedient of the elder age.
Rather than yield to rival tribes the hope95
That wakes aspiring thought and tempts to strife;
And (lowering awful reverence) rashly ope
The pales that mark the set degrees of life,
The priest (to whom the secret only known)
Unlock'd the artful portals of the stone;
And watch'd and lured some wanderer, o'er the steep,96
Into the vale, return for ever o'er;
The gate, like Death's, reclosed upon the keep—
Earth left its ghost as on the Funeral shore.
And what more envied lot could earth provide
Than calm Elysium—with a living bride?
A priestly tale the simple flock deceived:97
The gods had care of their Tagetian child![13]
The nuptial garlands for a god they weaved;
A god himself upon the maid had smiled,
A god himself renew'd the race divine,
And gave new monarchs to the Lartian line.
Yet short, alas! the incense of delight98
That lull'd the new-found Ammon of the Hour;
Like love's own star, upon the verge of night,
Trembled the torch that lit the bridal bower;
Soon as a son was born—his mission o'er—
The stranger vanish'd to his gods once more.
Two temples closed the boundaries of the place,99
One (vow'd to Tina) in its walls conceal'd
The granite portals, by the former race
So deftly fashion'd,—not a chink reveal'd
Where (twice unbarr'd in all the ages flown)
The stony donjon mask'd the door of stone.
The fane of Mantu[14] form'd the opposing bound100
Of the long valley; where the surplus wave
Of the main stream a gloomy outlet found,
Split on sharp rocks beneath a night of cave,
And there, in torrents, down some lost ravine
Where Alps took root—fell heard, but never seen.
Right o'er this cave the Death-Power's temple rose;101
The cave's dark vault was curtain'd by the shrine;
Here by the priest (the sacred scrolls depose)
Was led the bridegroom when renew'd the line;
At night, that shrine his steps unprescient trod—
And morning came, and earth had lost the god!
Nine days had now the Augur to the flock102
Announced the coming of the heavenly spouse;
Nine days his steps had wander'd through the rock,
And his eye watch'd through unfamiliar boughs,
And not a foot-fall in those rugged ways!
The lone Alps wearied on his lonely gaze—