DORIAN DAYS - POEMS - 1909 - CONTENTS PAGE . . 1 CONTENTS PAGE BEHOLD THE DAY . . 73 DORIAN DAYS DORIAN DAYS THE BELVEDERE APOLLO - WHEN God lets loose in eastern sky The arrows of the dawn, Who now beholds the hand whereby The splendid bow is drawn - The lucent forehead crowned with curls Brighter than gold may be The mantle thrown in silver swirls Leaving the shoulder free One saw and left for us to mark, In every marble line, The light triumphant oer the dark, On-coming day divine. See, on the gods indignant brow The wrath has all but died The hand that drew the string but now Is falling at his side., Soon all the passion stern and proud In that majestic mien Will vanish like a little cloud Into the sun serene. The sculptor - from an unknown grave His nameless dust is blown But men of latest time will save This one immortal stone. And when all hearts exalt the lord Of light and liberty, All eyes will turn with one accord, Transcendent shape, to thee HE came with mane unshorn, - Curls colored like the morn, With god-bewildered eyes and brow impending He leaned his harp of gold Where rivers manifold Leaped in one shining shaft, seaward descending Then stretched the cords and made his mantle slack The night-shapes cowered at his feet, the sun rose at his back. Murmuring mystic things, He touched the strange-voiced strings, Waking with trembling art the strains of wonder, - Language of paws and wings, Song the insensate sings, The doves glad moan, the jungles throated thunder Round him the thickets stirred and eye-balls gleamed Once the lone eagle, poised on high, caught his war-note and screamed. Still, as the music rose Sweeter at every close, - Blended the glee and pain, love and rage blended, - Nearer the wood-bird hid, Nearer the bright snake slid, Nearer with quivering nose the hare attended, Nearer and lowlier yet the leopard shied Till one bare foot was cushioned soft upon her spotted side. Parting the fountains sedge, Close at its oozy edge, With wet-lashed, wondering eyes, a naiad peeped Deep in the dewy wood, Drunk with the musics mood, Crowned with gay flowers the satyrs laughed and leaped Off sped a faun to bring the Bacchic crew For well they loved the cheerful strain, and well their love he knew. No voice of hound or horn Roused the wild boar that morn, Crunching the night-dropt mast in sloth he fed Upon the windy down, In perilous ways unknown The woolly tribes wandered unshepherded Hither with wreath d spears the hunters fare To hear sweet praise of Pan to-day is all the shepherds care. He sang the heavenly mirth, Pang of the planets birth, Primordial melody, chaos surceasing, - Why the dear daylight dies, Why the clear stars arise, --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.