Atalanta in Calydon by Algernon Charles Swinburne
page 38 of 119 (31%)
page 38 of 119 (31%)
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Among men armed a woman, foreign born,
Virgin, not like the natural flower of things That grows and bears and brings forth fruit and dies, Unlovable, no light for a husband's house, Espoused; a glory among unwedded girls, And chosen of gods who reverence maidenhood. These too we honour in honouring her; but thou, Abstain thy feet from following, and thine eyes From amorous touch; nor set toward hers thine heart, Son, lest hate bear no deadlier fruit than love. ALTHAEA. O king, thou art wise, but wisdom halts, and just, But the gods love not justice more than fate, And smite the righteous and the violent mouth, And mix with insolent blood the reverent man's, And bruise the holier as the lying lips. Enough; for wise words fail me, and my heart Takes fire and trembles flamewise, O my son, O child, for thine head's sake; mine eyes wax thick, Turning toward thee, so goodly a weaponed man, So glorious; and for love of thine own eyes They are darkened, and tears burn them, fierce as fire, And my lips pause and my soul sinks with love. But by thine hand, by thy sweet life and eyes, By thy great heart and these clasped knees, O son, I pray thee that thou slay me not with thee. For there was never a mother woman-born |
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