Orpheus and Other Poems

by Edward Burrough Brownlow

Lo! before his eyes
A scene of wondrous beauty did arise;
Such as a poet sees when every sense
Leaves its abode, and the intelligence
Of soul usurps the functions of the mind,
When unto every object he grows blind
Seeing through all beyond.

For Pluto’s throne
Is more magnificent than Love might own
In higher regions. Orpheus stood beneath
The lowest step thereof; a flowery wreath
Crowned his bright golden locks—the flowers
Plucked from the dew-fed meadows and fair bowers
Where he had wandered with his beauteous bride
In happy love-quests, ere that eventide
When he was wakened by the short, sharp cry
Calling his name, and saw a snake glide by
Into the thicket—when he saw the breast
That oft had made his head a pillowy rest
Marked with the fatal venom, which his lips,
Used to the honey that the love-bee sips,
Closed on in vain endeavor to remove
The sentence of the gods on their sweet love—
When his strong hands clutched madly the thin air
As unto Jove he poured his soul’s deep prayer
For pity—when, with all his blood turned lead,
He looked and saw Eurydice was dead,
And when ’gainst all the gods he took that oath
Sacred to her, Death’s awful bridal troth,
That by the power of music’s magic spell
Against their will he would go down to Hell
And rescue his lost love. Whereat Jove laughed
And said to Bacchus as they gaily quaffed
In high carousal: “Let the fool take care,
Pluto can mind his own. Once in the lair
Of Hades, e’en Apollo’s son must stay,
No goats from that black fold can ever stray.”

Thus Orpheus stood; but now no longer mute,
For to the rich-wrought tremblings of his lute
He raised his rare-heard voice and stilled the word
On Pluto’s lips, and then all Hades heard:—

Persephone! Persephone!
Give back my lost delight to me!
By thy great love for thy great lord,
By each sweet thought for him adored,
By love that thrills and love that fills
Thy heart as with a thousand rills
Of joy, break down his frozen breast
And lull his vengeful mood to rest,
Till mighty Pluto joyfully
Shall, from his very love for thee,
Give back my soul’s delight to me—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
Recall thy lord’s great love for thee,
When in sweet Enna’s golden meads
Thou heard’st that rustling of the reeds,
And in thy hands the love-crushed flowers
Were grasped with fear, as from earth’s bowers
He strained thee to his mighty breast,
And bore thee, senseless, to the West
Beyond the opalescent sea
That nightly sings its song of thee;
Give back my soul’s delight to me—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
I bring love’s garland unto thee:—
She made it with her loving hands,
She plaited it in golden bands,
And placed it on my chosen brow
When by my side she sat, as now
Thou sittest by thy great lord’s side:
That night no lover snatched his bride,
But Death seized all remorselessly,
And took her soul beyond the sea;
And life became a memory—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
Let this lute’s magic minstrelsy
Find with love’s music, sweet and clear,
Thy heart-depths through each pearly ear:
Behold! how when I strike one string
The lone sound floats with cheerless ring;
Behold! when double chords are driven,
With harmony the air is riven;
So Fate plays on our souls, and we
Yield plaints of love or misery;
Give back my soul’s delight to me—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
By all the joy that lovers see
When first they feel the hidden fire
Burst forth in blaze of heart’s desire,
By all the music lovers hear
When language laps against the ear,
Like crystal waves on golden sands,
By touch of lips and clasp of hands
When long-zoned raiments are made free,
By all love’s sweets that fell to thee;
Give back my soul’s delight to me—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
Mark how thy lord yet frowns on me,
Behold the tightening of his lip—
Kiss—kiss his mouth lest there may slip
One word of doom to dash my hope;
Bend down on him thine eyes and cope
With love the gleams that in them shine,
The while I summon to me, mine;
Break—break—by love and memory
The bond of Hades, set me free
Her soul, that is the soul of me—
Eurydice! Eurydice!

Persephone! Persephone!
Clasp him so close he may not see;
Look deep into his soul with love
That from thine eyes he shall not move
His own;—ah! thus I gazed on her
That night and heard no serpent stir,
For love, once thralling all the mind,
Makes all the little senses blind;
’Tis well! he drinks love’s alchemy!
Where’er in Hades thou may’st be—
Come back! my love! come back to me,
Eurydice! Eurydice!