Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONG FROM THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS, by PERCY STICKNEY GRANT


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG FROM THE RETURN OF ODYSSEUS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: When the first soul, from earth, reached the immortals
Last Line: Fear overcame them.
Subject(s): Mythology - Classical; Ulysses; Odysseus


DORIS SINGS
When the first soul, from earth, reached the immortals,
Tearfully torn from the arms that embraced her,
Led by blind death to a world unimagined,
Fear overcame her.

Fear bowed her body, reluctant, unwilling.
Fear sank her feet in the asphodel meadows.
Fear tore death's hand to untwine his cold fingers,
All unavailing.

She had known life where the sun and the moon shone.
She had known love and had suckled her children.
She had known sleep in the arms of her husband,
And these sufficed her.

None in the halls of death bade her sweet welcome.
None kissed her lips or enfolded her man-wise,
And her cold breasts missed the cheek of her children,
There where the gods sat.

There where the gods sat grave and exalted,
On the high thrones that beheld all and ruled all,
In the gold light that diffused from their faces,
Gods who were angry.

Having sent death lest mankind be immortal,
Might laughing live, loving their busier country,
Drinking the wind and the sunlight like nectar,
Happy, undying:

Now that death brought the sad soul to her makers,
What should they do, lest she still be immortal,
Living like gods, with the gods in their dwelling?
Death now dismayed them:

Coming so blindly within their bright presence,
Standing so grimly before their gay scepters,
Dumb till the gods should decree his doings,
Death, awful servant.

Holding the soul though it trembled and shuddered,
Holding it hard when it wept and pulled backward:
Silently waiting the will of the great gods,
Plagued by creation.

Zeus at last thundered, settling their difference.
Hermes he bade quickly bring him a balance,
Golden, the work of the cripple Hephaestus,
Golden and even.

Then every god longed to hold the fair balance,
Gleaming, well finished, uninjured by usage,
Arbiter be for the soul's unplanned future,
Weighing and judging.

First Aphrodite begged Zeus she might hold it,
Then would the scales mark the soul's earthly beauty.
Tempting she stood, for she knew that no creature
Matched her perfection.

But the great father shook his curled temples,
Laughed back at sweet Aphrodite, the wave-born.
"Beauty on earth is not weighed in the balance
Of heavenly beauty."

Then bright Apollo, god of all gifts of mind,
Who gives the Muses divine inspiration,
Whose fiery car the full-limbed Hours follow,
Reached for the balance.

But Zeus forbade, he had heard the shell's music
Played by Apollo and knew that no mortal
Dreamed of the harmonies of the high heavens,
Apollo's vision.

Then Rhadamanthus, stern keeper of records,
Measurer he by the rod and the letter,
Darkly demanded the scales mete his judgments,
That he might punish.

But Zeus turned from him, cold, inattentive,
Looking for one who sat near Aphrodite:
Eros, her offspring, or Love as some call him,
Humble but mighty.

Bade Hermes place in his hands the gold balance:
Bade Eros stand by the soul to discover
How much of love it had wrought and had lived by,
What for love suffered.

Then the boy Eros, smiled up at his mother,
Sweet Aphrodite, daintily took the scales
From the shrewd Hermes, stood before Zeus while he
Beckoned the spirit.

Then death relaxed his cold clutch on her fingers,
And the glad soul quickly ran to the love-god.
Naked she stood by him and the gold balance,
God of her worship.

Then the scales made by the cripple Hephaestus,
Gleaming, well finished, uninjured by usage,
Tipped till the arms of the balance stood upright,
Heavy with love pangs.

And all the gods in amazement and wonder,
Looked at the life newly born to their number;
Looked at young Eros, holding the balance,
Clasping the mortal.

And through the air came a song new in heaven,
So sweet, Apollo listened, attentive,
While all the Muses sought to remember --
Songs as of children.

And on the soul there appeared such a beauty
That Aphrodite turned her head, grew paler,
And Rhadamanthus snapped his rough measure.
Fear overcame them.




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