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THE PIERROT OF THE MINUTE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: My journey's end! This surely is the glade
Last Line: Back to her starry home.


IERROT

My journey's end! This surely is the glade
Which I was promised: I have well obeyed!
A clue of lilies was I bid to find,
Where the green alleys most obscurely wind;
Where tall oaks darkliest canopy o'erhead,
And moss and violet make the softest bed;
Where the path ends, and leagues behind me lie
The gleaming courts and gardens of Versailles;
The lilies streamed before me, green and white;
I gathered, following; they led me right,
To the bright temple and the sacred grove;
This is, in truth, the very shrine of Love!

PIERROT

It is so solitary, I grow afraid.
Is there no priest here, no devoted maid?
Is there no oracle, no voice to speak,
Interpreting to me the word I seek?

PIERROT

TOO soon! too soon! in that enchanting strain,
Days yet unlived, I almost lived again:
It almost taught me that I most would know --
Why am I here, and why am I Pierrot?

PIERROT

Why came I here, and why am I Pierrot?
That music and this silence both affright;
Pierrot can never be a friend of night.
I never felt my solitude before --
Once safe at home, I will return no more.
Yet the commandment of the scroll was plain;
While the light lingers let me read again.

PIERROT

"He loves to-night who never loved before;
Who ever loved, to-night shall love once more."
I never loved! I know not what love is.
I am so ignorant -- but what is this?

"Who would adventure to encounter Love
Must rest one night within this hallowed grove.
Cast down thy lilies, which have led thee on,
Before the tender feet of Cupidon."
Thus much is done, the night remains to me.
Well, Cupidon, be my security!
Here is more writing, but too faint to read.

PIERROT

Hence, vain old parchment. I have learnt thy rede!

PIERROT

Courage, mon Ami! I shall never miss
Society with such a friend as this.
How merrily the rosy bubbles pass,
Across the amber crystal of the glass.
I had forgotten you. Methinks this quest
Can wake no sweeter echo in my breast.

PIERROT

Nay, little god! forgive. I did but jest.

PIERROT

This libation, Cupid, take,
With the lilies at thy feet;
Cherish Pierrot for their sake:
Send him visions strange and sweet,
While he slumbers at thy feet.
Only love kiss him awake!
Only love kiss him awake!

PIERROT

Music, more music, far away and faint:
It is an echo of mine heart's complaint.
Why should I be so musical and sad?
I wonder why I used to be so glad?
In single glee I chased blue butterflies,
Half butterfly myself, but not so wise,
For they were twain, and I was only one.
Ah me! how pitiful to be alone.
My brown birds told me much, but in mine ear
They never whispered this -- I learned it here:
The soft wood sounds, the rustlings in the breeze,
Are but the stealthy kisses of the trees.
Each flower and fern in this enchanted wood
Leans to her fellow, and is understood;
The eglantine, in loftier station set,
Stoops down to woo the maidly violet.
In gracile pairs the very lilies grow:
None is companionless except Pierrot.
Music, more music! how its echoes steal
Upon my senses with unlooked for weal.
Tired am I, tired, and far from this lone glade
Seems mine old joy in rout and masquerade.
Sleep cometh over me, now will I prove,
By Cupid's grace, what is this thing called love.

THE LADY

Who is this mortal
Who ventures to-night
To woo an immortal?
Cold, cold the moon's light
For sleep at this portal,
Bold lover of night.
Fair is the mortal
In soft, silken white,
Who seeks an immortal
Ah, lover of night,
Be warned at the portal,
And save thee in flight!

PIERROT

Forget not, Cupid. Teach me all thy lore:
"He loves to-night who never loved before."

THE LADY

Unwitting boy! when, be it soon or late,
What Pierrot ever has escaped his fate?
What if I warned him! He might yet evade,
Through the long windings of this verdant glade;
Seek his companions in the blither way,
Which, else, must be as lost as yesterday.
So might he still pass some unheeding hours
In the sweet company of birds and flowers.
How fair he is, with red lips formed for joy,
As softly curved as those of Venus' boy.
Methinks his eyes, beneath their silver sheaves,
Rest tranquilly like lilies under leaves.
Arrayed in innocence, what touch of grace
Reveals the scion of a courtly race?
Well, I will warn him, though, I fear, too late --
What Pierrot ever has escaped his fate?
But, see, he stirs, new knowledge fires his brain,
And Cupid's vision bids him wake again.
Dione's Daughter! but how fair he is,
Would it be wrong to rouse him with a kiss?

PIERROT

Celestial messenger! remain, remain;
Or, if a vision, visit me again!
What is this light, and whither am I come
To sleep beneath the stars so far from home?

PIERROT

Stay, I remember this is Venus' Grove,
And I am hither come to encounter -----
THE LADY

Love!

PIERROT
Then have I ventured and encountered Love?

THE LADY
Not yet, rash boy! and, if thou wouldst be wise,
Return unknowing; he is safe who flies.

PIERROT
Never, sweet lady, will I leave this place
Until I see the wonder of thy face.
Goddess or Naiad! lady of this Grove,
Made mortal for a night to teach me love,
Unveil thyself, although thy beauty be
Too luminous for my mortality.

THE LADY

Then, foolish boy, receive at length thy will:
Now knowest thou the greatness of thine ill.

PIERROT

Now have I lost my heart, and gained my goal.

THE LADY
Didst thou not read the warning on the scroll?

PIERROT

I read it all, as on this quest I fared,
Save where it was illegible and hard.

THE LADY

Alack! poor scholar, wast thou never taught
A little knowledge serveth less than naught?
Hadst thou perused ---- but, stay, I will explain
What was the writing which thou didst disdain.

"Au Petit Trianon, at night's full noon,
Mortal, beware the kisses of the moon!
Whoso seeks her she gathers like a flower --
He gives a life, and only gains an hour."

PIERROT

Bear me away to thine enchanted bower,
All of my life I venture for an hour.

THE LADY

Take up thy destiny of short delight;
I am thy lady for a summer's night.
Lift up your viols, maidens of my train,
And work such havoc on this mortal's brain
That for a moment he may touch and know
Immortal things, and be full Pierrot.
White music Nymphs! Violet and Eglantine!
To stir his tired veins like magic wine.
What visitants across his spirit glance,
Lying on lilies, while he watch me dance?
Watch, and forget all weary things of earth,
All memories and cares, all joy and mirth,
While my dance woos him, light and rhythmical,
And weaves his heart into my coronal.
Music, more music for his soul's delight:
Love is his lady for a summer's night.

PIERROT

Whence came, dear Queen, such magic melody?

THE LADY

Pan made it long ago in Arcady.

PIERROT

I heard it long ago, I know not where,
As I knew thee, or ever I came here.
But I forget all things -- my name and race,
All that I ever knew except thy face.
Who art thou, lady? Breathe a name to me,
That I may tell it like a rosary.
Thou, whom I sought, dear Dryad of the trees,
How art thou designate -- art thou Heart's-Ease?

THE LADY

Waste not the night in idle questioning,
Since Love departs at dawn's awakening.

PIERROT

Nay, thou art right; what recks thy name or state,
Since thou art lovely and compassionate.
Play out thy will on me: I am thy lyre.

THE LADY

I am to each the face of his desire.

PIERROT

I am not Pierrot, but Venus' dove,
Who craves a refuge on the breast of love.

THE LADY

What wouldst thou of the maiden of the moon?
Until the cock crow I may grant thy boon.

PIERROT

Then, sweet Moon Maiden, in some magic car,
Wrought wondrously of many a homeless star --
Such must attend thy journeys through the skies, --
Drawn by a team of milk-white butterflies,
Whom, with soft voice and music of thy maids,
Thou urgest gently through the heaventy glades;
Mount me beside thee, bear me far away
From the low regions of the solar day;
Over the rainbow, up into the moon,
Where is thy palace and thine opal throne;
There on thy bosom -----

THE LADY

Too ambitious boy!
I did but promise thee one hour of joy.
This tour thou plannest, with a heart so light,
Could hardly be completed in a night.
Hast thou no craving less remote than this?

PIERROT

Would it be impudent to beg a kiss?

THE LADY

I say not that: yet prithee have a care!
Often audacity has proved a snare.
How wan and pale do moon-kissed roses grow --
Dost thou not fear my kisses, Pierrot?

PIERROT

As one who faints upon the Libyan plain
Fears the oasis which brings life again!

THE LADY

Where far away green palm trees seem to stand
May be a mirage of the wreathing sand.

PIERROT

Nay, dear enchantress, I consider naught,
Save mine own ignorance, which would be taught.

THE LADY

Dost thou persist?

PIERROT

I do entreat this boon!

THE LADY

Why art thou pale, fond lover of the moon?

PIERROT

Cold are thy lips, more cold than I can tell
Yet would I hang on them, thine icicle!
Cold is thy kiss, more cold than I could dream
Arctus sits, watching the Boreal stream:
But with its frost such sweetness did conspire
That all my veins are filled with running fire;
Never I knew that life contained such bliss
As the divine completeness of a kiss.

THE LADY

Apt scholar! so love's lesson has been taught,
Warning, as usual, has gone for naught.

PIERROT

Had all my schooling been of this soft kind,
To play the truant I were less inclined.
Teach me again! I am a sorry dunce --
I never knew a task by conning once.

THE LADY

Then come with me! below this pleasant shrine
Of Venus we will presently recline,
Until birds' twitter beckon me away
To mine own home, beyond the milky-way.
I will instruct thee, for I deem as yet
Of Love thou knowest but the alphabet.

PIERROT

In its sweet grammer I shall grow most wise,
If all its rules be written in thine eyes.

PIERROT

Sweet contemplation! how my senses yearn
To be thy scholar always, always learn.
Hold not so high from me thy radiant mouth,
Fragrant with all the spices of the South;
Nor turn, O sweet! thy golden face away,
For with it goes the light of all my day.
Let me peruse it, till I know by rote
Each line of it, like music, note by note;
Raise thy long lashes, Lady! smile again:
These studies profit me.

THE LADY

Refrain, refrain!

PIERROT

I am but studious, so do not stir;
Thou art my star, I thine astronomer!
Geometry was founded on thy lip.

THE LADY

This attitude becomes not scholarship!
Thy zeal I praise; but, prithee, not so fast,
Nor leave the rudiments until the last.
Science applied is good, but 'twere a schism
To study such before the catechism,
Bear thee more modestly, while I submit
Some easy problems to confirm thy wit.

PIERROT

In all humility my mind I pit
Against her problems which would test my wit.

THE LADY

What is Love?
Is it a folly,
Is it mirth, or melancholy?
Joys above,
Are there many, or not any?
What is love?

PIERROT

If you please,
A most sweet folly!
Full of mirth and melancholy;
Both of these!
In its sadness worth all gladness,
If you please!

THE LADY

Prithee where,
Goes Love a-hiding?
Is he long in his abiding
Anywhere?
Can you bind him when you find him;
Prithee, where?

PIERROT

With spring days
Love comes and dallies:
Upon the mountains, through the valleys
Lie Love's ways.
Then he leaves you and deceives you
In spring days.

THE LADY

Thine answers please me: 'tis thy turn to ask.
To meet thy questioning be now my task.

PIERROT

Since I know thee, dear Immortal,
Is my heart become a blossom,
To be worn upon thy bosom.
When thou turn me from this portal,
Whither shall I, hapless mortal,
Seek love out and win again
Heart of me that thou retain?

THE LADY

In and out the woods and valleys,
Circling, soaring like a swallow,
Love shall flee and thou shalt follow:
Though he stops awhile and dallies,
Never shalt thou stay his malice!
Moon-kissed mortals seek in vain
To possess their hearts again!

PIERROT

Tell me, Lady, shall I never
Rid me of this grievous burden!
Follow Love and find his guerdon
In no maiden whatsoever?
Wilt thou hold my heart for ever?
Rather would I thine forget,
In some earthly Pierrette!

THE LADY

Thus thy fate, whate'er thy will is!
Moon-struck child, go seek my traces
Vainly in all mortal faces!
In and out among the lilies,
Court each rural Amaryllis:
Seek the signet of Love's hand
In each courtly Corisande!

PIERROT

Now, verily, sweet maid, of school I tire:
These answers are not such as I desire.

THE LADY

Why art thou sad?

PIERROT

I dare not tell.

THE LADY

Come, say!

PIERROT

Is love all schooling, with no time to play?

THE LADY

Though all love's lessons be a holiday,
Yet I will humour thee: what wouldst thou play?

PIERROT

What are the games that small moon-maids enjoy,
Or is their time all spent in staid employ?

THE LADY

Sedate they are, yet games they much enjoy:
They skip with stars, the rainbow is their toy.

PIERROT

That is too hard!

THE LADY

For mortal's play.

PIERROT

What then?

THE LADY

Teach me some pastime from the world of men.

PIERROT

I have it, maiden.

THE LADY

Can it soon be taught?

PIERROT

A simple game, I learnt it at the Court.
I sit by thee.

THE LADY

But, prithee, not so near.

PIERROT

That is essential, as will soon appear.
Lay here thine hand, which cold night dews anoint,
Washing its white --

THE LADY

Now is this to the point?

PIERROT

Prithee, forbear! Such is the game's design.

THE LADY

Here is my hand.

PIERROT

I cover it with mine.

THE LADY

What must I next?

PIERROT

Withdraw.

THE LADY

It goes too fast.

PIERROT

'Tis done. I win my forfeit at the last.

THE LADY

Thou art not quick enough. Who hopes to catch
A moon-beam, must use twice as much despatch.

PIERROT

I grow aweary, and my heart is sore,
Thou dost not love me; I will play no more.

THE LADY

What is this petulance?

PIERROT

'Tis quick to tell --
Thou hast but mocked me.

THE LADY

Nay! I love thee well!

PIERROT

Repeat those words, for still within my breast
A whisper warns me they are said in jest.

THE LADY

I jested not: at daybreak I must go,
Yet loving thee far better than thou know.

PIERROT

Then, by this altar, and this sacred shrine,
Take my sworn troth, and swear thee wholly mine!
The Gods have wedded mortals long ere this.

THE LADY

There was enough betrothal in my kiss.
What need of further oaths?

PIERROT

That bound not thee!

THE LADY

Peace! since I tell thee that it may not be.
But sit beside me whilst I soothe thy bale
With some moon fancy or celestial tale.

PIERROT

Tell me of thee, and that dim, happy place
Where lies thine home, with maidens of thy race!

THE LADY

Calm is it yonder, very calm; the air
For mortal's breath is too refined and rare;
Hard by a green lagoon our palace rears
Its dome of agate through a myriad years.
A hundred chambers its bright walls enthrone,
Each one carved strangely from a precious stone.
Within the fairest, clad in purity,
Our mother dwelleth immemorially:
Moon-calm, moon-pale, with moon stones on her gown
The floor she treads with little pearls is sown;
She sits upon a throne of amethysts,
And orders mortal fortunes as she lists;
I, and my sisters, all around her stand,
And, when she speaks, accomplish her demand.

PIERROT

Methought grim Clotho and her sisters twain
With shrivelled fingers spun this web of bane!

THE LADY

Theirs and my mother's realm is far apart,
Here is the lustrous kingdom of the heart,
And dreamers all, and all who sing and love,
Her power acknowledge, and her rule approve.

PIERROT

Me, even me, she hath led into this grove

THE LADY

Yea, thou art one of hers! But, ere this night,
Often I watched my sisters take their flight
Down heaven's stairway of the clustered stars
To gaze on mortals through their lattice bars;
And some in sleep they woo with dreams of bliss
Too shadowy to tell, and some they kiss.
But all to whom they come, my sisters say,
Forthwith forget all joyance of the day,
Forget their laughter and forget their tears,
And dream away with singing all their years --
Moon-lovers always!

PIERROT

Why art sad, sweet Moon?

THE LADY

For this, my story, grant me now a boon.

PIERROT

I am thy servitor.

THE LADY

Would, then, I knew
More of the earth, what men and women do.

PIERROT

I will explain.

THE LADY

Let brevity attend
Thy wit, for night approaches to its end.

PIERROT

Once was I a page at Court, so trust in me:
That's the first lesson of society.

THE LADY

Society?

PIERROT

I mean the very best
Pardy! thou wouldst not hear about the rest.
I know it not, but am a petit maitre
At rout and festival and bal champetre.
But since example be instruction's ease,
Let's play the thing. -- Now, Madame, if you please!

THE LADY

What am I, then?

PIERROT

A most divine Marquise!
Perhaps that attitude hath too much ease.

Ah, that is better! To complete the plan,
Nothing is necessary save a fan.

THE LADY

Cool is the night, what needs it?

PIERROT

Madame, pray
Reflect, it is essential to our play.

THE LADY

Here is my fan!

PIERROT

So, use it with intent:
The deadliest arm in beauty's armament!

THE LADY

What do we next?

PIERROT

We talk!

THE LADY

But what about?

PIERROT

We quiz the company and praise the rout;
Are polished, petulant, malicious, sly,
Or what you will, so reputations die.
Observe the Duchess in Venetian lace,
With the red eminence.

THE LADY

A pretty face!

PIERROT

For something tarter set thy wits to search --
"She loves the churchman better than the church."

THE LADY

Her blush is charming; would it were her own!

PIERROT

Madame is merciless!

THE LADY

Is that the tone?

PIERROT

The very tone: I swear thou lackest naught.
Madame was evidently bred at Court.

THE LADY

Thou speakest glibly: 'tis not of thine age.

PIERROT

I listened much, as best becomes a page.

THE LADY

I like thy Court but little -----

PIERROT

Hush! the Queen!
Bow, but not low -- thou knowest what I mean.

THE LADY

Nay, that I know not!

PIERROT

Though she wear a crown,
'Tis from La Pompadour one fears a frown.

THE LADY

Thou art a child: thy malice is a game.

PIERROT

A most sweet pastime -- scandal is its name.

THE LADY

Enough, it wearies me.

PIERROT

Then, rare Marquise,
Desert the crowd to wander through the trees.

THE LADY

What wouldst thou now?

PIERROT

Ah, prithee, what, save thee!

THE LADY

Was this included in thy comedy?

PIERROT

Ah, mock me not! In vain with quirk and jest
I strive to quench the passion in my breast;
In vain thy blandishments would make me play:
Still I desire far more than I can say.
My knowledge halts, ah, sweet, be piteous,
Instruct me still, while time remains to us,
Be what thou wist, Goddess, moon-maid, Marquise,
So that I gather from thy lips heart's ease,
Nay, I implore thee, think thee how time flies!

THE LADY

Hush! I beseech thee, even now night dies.

PIERROT

Night, day, are one to me for thy soft sake.

THE LADY

It is too late, for hark! the birds awake.

PIERROT

The birds awake! It is the voice of day!

THE LADY

Farewell, dear youth! They summon me away.

THE LADY

Music, my maids! His weary senses steep
In soft untroubled and oblivious sleep,
With mandragore anoint his tired eyes,
That they may open on mere memories,
Then shall a vision seem his lost delight,
With love, his lady for a summer's night.
Dream thou hast dreamt all this, when thou awake,
Yet still be sorrowful, for a dream's sake.
I leave thee, sleeper! Yea, I leave thee now,
Yet take my legacy upon thy brow:
Remember me, who was compassionate,
And opened for thee once, the ivory gate.
I come no more, thou shalt not see my face
When I am gone to mine exalted place:
Yet all thy days are mine, dreamer of dreams,
All silvered over with the moon's pale beams:
Go forth and seek in each fair face in vain,
To find the image of thy love again.
All maids are kind to thee, yet never one
Shall hold thy truant heart till day be done.
Whom once the moon has kissed, loves long and late,
Yet never finds the maid to be his mate.
Farewell, dear sleeper, follow out thy fate.

THE MOON MAIDEN'S SONG.

Sleep! Cast thy canopy
Over this sleeper's brain,
Dim grow his memory,
When he awake again.

Love stays a summer night,
Till lights of morning come;
Then takes her winged flight
Back to her starry home.

Sleep! Yet thy days are mine;
Love's seal is over thee:
Far though my ways from thine,
Dim though thy memory.

Love stays a summer night,
Till lights of morning come;
Then takes her winged flight
Back to her starry home.





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