Who dream’d that ‘twixt her feet there fell and lay
A flaming brand, that utterly burn’d down
To dust of crumbling ashes red and grey,
The coronal of towers and all Troy town.
XXII.
“Then the interpretation of this dream
My father sought at many priestly hands,
Where the white temple doth in Pytho gleam,
And at the fane of Ammon in the sands,
And where the oak tree of Dodona stands
With boughs oracular against the sky, –
And with one voice the Gods from all the lands,
Cried out, ‘The child must die, the child must die.’
XXIII.
“Then was I born to sorrow; and in fear
The dark priest took me from my sire, and bore
A wailing child through beech and pinewood drear,
Up to the knees of Ida, and the hoar
Rocks whence a fountain breaketh evermore,
And leaps with shining waters to the sea,
Through black and rock-wall’d pools without a shore, –
And there they deem’d they took farewell of me.
XXIV.
“But round my neck they tied a golden ring
That fell from Ganymedes when he soar’d
High over Ida on the eagle’s wing,
To dwell for ever with the Gods adored,
To be the cup-bearer beside the board
Of Zeus, and kneel at the eternal throne, –
A jewel ’twas from old King Tros’s hoard,
That ruled in Ilios ages long agone.
XXV.
“And there they left me in that dell untrod, –
Shepherd nor huntsman ever wanders there,
For dread of Pan, that is a jealous God, –
Yea, and the ladies of the streams forbear
The Naiad nymphs, to weave their dances fair,
Or twine their yellow tresses with the shy
Fronds of forget-me-not and maiden-hair, –
There had the priests appointed me to die.
XXVI.
“But vainly doth a man contend with Fate!
My father had less pity on his son
Than wild things of the woodland desolate.
‘Tis said that ere the Autumn day was done
A great she-bear, that in these rocks did wonn,
Beheld a sleeping babe she did convey
Down to a den beheld not of the sun,
The cavern where her own soft litter lay.
XXVII.
“And therein was I nurtured wondrously,
So Rumour saith: I know not of these things,
For mortal men are ever wont to lie,
Whene’er they speak of sceptre-bearing kings:
I tell what I was told, for memory brings
No record of those days, that are as deep
Lost as the lullaby a mother sings
In ears of children that are fallen on sleep.
XXVIII.
“Men say that now five autumn days had pass’d,
When Agelaus, following a hurt deer,
Trod soft on crackling acorns, and the mast
That lay beneath the oak and beech-wood sere,
In dread lest angry Pan were sleeping near,
Then heard a cry from forth a cavern grey,
And peeping round the fallen rocks in fear,
Beheld where in the wild beast’s tracks I lay.
XXIX.
“So Agelaus bore me from the wild,
Down to his hut; and with his children I
Was nurtured, being, as was deem’d, the child
Of Hermes, or some mountain deity;
For these with the wild nymphs are wont to lie
Within the holy caverns, where the bee
Can scarcely find a darkling path to fly
Through veils of bracken and the ivy-tree.
XXX.
“So with the shepherds on the hills I stray’d,
And drave the kine to feed where rivers run,
And play’d upon the reed-pipe in the shade,
And scarcely knew my manhood was begun,
The pleasant years still passing one by one,
Till I was chiefest of the mountain men,
And clomb the peaks that take the snow and sun,
And braved the anger’d lion in his den.
XXXI.
“Now in my herd of kine was one more dear
By far than all the rest, and fairer far;
A milkwhite bull, the captive of my spear,
And all the wondering shepherds called him star:
And still he led his fellows to the war,
When the lean wolves against the herds came down,
Then would he charge, and drive their hosts afar
Beyond the pastures to the forests brown.
XXXII.
“Now so it chanced that on an autumn morn,
King Priam sought a goodly bull to slay
In memory of his child, no sooner born
Than midst the lonely mountains cast away,
To die ere scarce he had beheld the day;
And Priam’s men came wandering afar
To that green pool where by the flocks I lay,
And straight they coveted the goodly star,
XXXIII.
“And drave him, no word spoken, to the town:
One man mine arrow lit on, and he fell;
His comrades held me off, and down and down,
Through golden windings of the autumn dell,
They spurr’d along the beast that loved me well,
Till red were his white sides; I following,
Wrath in my heart, their evil deeds to tell
In Ilios, at the footstool of the King.
XXXIV.
“But ere they came to the God-builded wall,
They spied a meadow by the water-side,
And there the men of Troy were gathered all
For joust and play; and Priam’s sons defied
All other men in all Maeonia wide
To strive with them in boxing and in speed.
Victorious with the shepherds had I vied,
So boldly followed to that flowery mead.
XXXV.
“Maeonia, Phrygia, Troia there were met,
And there the King, child of Laomedon,
Rich prizes for the vanquishers had set,
Damsels, and robes, and cups that like the sun
Shone, but the white bull was the chiefest one;
And him the victor in the games should slay
To Zeus, the King of Gods, when all was done,
And so with sacrifice should crown the day.
XXXVI.
“Now it were over long, methinks, to tell
The contest of the heady charioteers,
Of them the goal that turn’d, and them that fell.
But I outran the young men of my years,
And with the bow did I out-do my peers,
And wrestling; and in boxing, over-bold,
I strove with Hector of the ashen spears,
Yea, till the deep-voiced Heralds bade us hold.
XXXVII.
“Then Priam hail’d me winner of the day;
Mine were the maid, the cup, and chiefest prize,
Mine own fair milkwhite bull was mine to slay;
But then the murmurs wax’d to angry cries,
And hard men set on me in deadly wise,
My brethren, though they knew it not; I turn’d,
And fled unto the place of sacrifice,
Where altars to the God of strangers burn’d.
XXXVIII.
“At mine own funeral feast, had I been slain,
But, fearing Zeus, they halted for a space,
And lo, Apollo’s priestess with a train
Of holy maidens came into that place,
And far did she outshine the rest in grace,
But in her eyes such dread was frozen then
As glares eternal from the Gorgon’s face
Wherewith Athene quells the ranks of men.
XXXIX.
“She was old Priam’s daughter, long ago
Apollo loved her, and did not deny
His gifts,–the things that are to be to know,
The tongue of sooth-saying that cannot lie,
And knowledge gave he of all birds that fly
‘Neath heaven; and yet his prayer did she disdain.
So he his gifts confounded utterly,
And sooth she saith, but evermore in vain.
XL.
“She, when her dark eyes fell on me, did stand
At gaze a while, with wan lips murmuring,
And then came nigh to me, and took my hand,
And led me to the footstool of the King,
And call’d me ‘brother,’ and drew forth the ring
That men had found upon me in the wild,
For still I bore it as a precious thing,
The token of a father to his child.
XLI.
“This sign Cassandra show’d to Priam: straight
The King wax’d pale, and ask’d what this might be?
And she made answer, ‘Sir, and King, thy fate
That comes to all men born hath come on thee;
This shepherd is thine own child verily:
How like to thine his shape, his brow, his hands!
Nay there is none but hath the eyes to see
That here the child long lost to Troia stands.’
XLII.
“Then the King bare me to his lofty hall,
And there we feasted in much love and mirth,
And Priam to the mountain sent for all
That knew me, and the manner of my birth:
And now among the great ones of the earth
In royal robe and state behold me set,
And one fell thing I fear not; even dearth,
Whate’er the Gods remember or forget.
XLIII.
“My new rich life had grown a common thing,
The pleasant years still passing one by one,
When deep in Ida was I wandering
The glare of well-built Ilios to shun,
In summer, ere the day was wholly done,
When I beheld a goodly prince,–the hair
To bloom upon his lip had scarce begun, –
The season when the flower of youth is fair.
XLIV.
“Then knew I Hermes by his golden wand