Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEATH SONG OF ALCESTIS, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: She came forth in her bridal robes arrayed Last Line: "for thee, for thee, my spirit's lord, I die!" Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea Subject(s): Alcestis (mythology); Death; Mythology - Classical; Dead, The | ||||||||
SHE came forth in her bridal robes arrayed, And midst the graceful statues, round the hall Shedding the calm of their celestial mien, Stood pale yet proudly beautiful as they: Flowers in her bosom, and the star-like gleam Of jewels trembling from her braided hair, And death upon her brow! -- but glorious death! Her own heart's choice, the token and the seal Of love, o'ermastering love; which, till that hour, Almost an anguish in the brooding weight Of its unutterable tenderness, Had burdened her full soul. But now, oh! now, Its time was come -- and from the spirit's depths, The passion and the mighty melody Of its immortal voice in triumph broke, Like a strong rushing wind! The soft pure air Came floating through that hall -- the Grecian air, Laden with music -- flute-notes from the vales, Echoes of song -- the last sweet sounds of life. And the glad sunshine of the golden clime Streamed, as a royal mantle, round her form -- The glorified of love! But she -- she looked Only on him for whom 'twas joy to die, Deep -- deepest, holiest joy! Or if a thought Of the warm sunlight, and the scented breeze, And the sweet Dorian songs, o'erswept the tide Of her unswerving soul -- 'twas but a thought That owned the summer loveliness of life For him a worthy offering! So she stood, Wrapt in bright silence, as entranced awhile; Till her eye kindled, and her quivering frame With the swift breeze of inspiration shook, As the pale priestess trembles to the breath Of inborn oracles! -- Then flushed her cheek, And all the triumph, all the agony, Borne on the battling waves of love and death, All from her woman's heart, in sudden song, Burst like a fount of fire. "I go, I go! Thou sun! thou golden sun! I go Far from thy light to dwell: Thou shalt not find my place below, Dim is that world -- bright sun of Greece, farewell! "The laurel and the glorious rose Thy glad beam yet may see; But where no purple summer glows, O'er the dark wave I haste from them and thee. "Yet doth my spirit faint to part? -- I mourn thee not, O sun! Joy, solemn joy, o'erflows my heart: Sing me triumphal songs! -- my crown is won! "Let not a voice of weeping rise -- My heart is girt with power! Let the green earth and festal skies Laugh, as to grace a conqueror's closing hour! "For thee, for thee, my bosom's lord! Thee, my soul's loved! I die; Thine is the torch of life restored, Mine, mine the rapture, mine the victory! "Now may the boundless love, that lay Unfathomed still before, In one consuming burst find way -- In one bright flood all, all its riches pour! "Thou know'st, thou know'st what love is now! Its glory and its might -- Are they not written on my brow? And will that image ever quit thy sight? "No! deathless in thy faithful breast, There shall my memory keep Its own bright altar-place of rest, While o'er my grave the cypress branches weep. "Oh, the glad light! -- the light is fair, The soft breeze warm and free; And rich notes fill the scented air, And all are gifts -- my love's last gifts to thee! "Take me to thy warm heart once more! Night falls -- my pulse beats low: Seek not to quicken, to restore -- Joy is in every pang. I go, I go! "I feel thy tears, I feel thy breath, I meet thy fond look still; Keen is the strife of love and death; Faint and yet fainter grows my bosom's thrill. "Yet swells the tide of rapture strong, Though mists o'ershade mine eye; Sing, Paean! sing a conqueror's song! For thee, for thee, my spirit's lord, I die!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND A DIRGE (1) by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS |
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