ŒNONE

1 There lies a vale in Ida, lovelier
2 Than all the valleys of Ionian hills.
3 The swimming vapour slopes athwart the glen,
4 Puts forth an arm, and creeps from pine to pine,
5 And loiters, slowly drawn. On either hand
6 The lawns and meadow-ledges midway down
7 Hang rich in flowers, and far below them roars
8 The long brook falling thro' the clov'n ravine
9 In cataract after cataract to the sea.
10 Behind the valley topmost Gargarus
11 Stands up and takes the morning: but in front
12 The gorges, opening wide apart, reveal
13 Troas and Ilion's column'd citadel,
14 The crown of Troas.

Hither came at noon
16 Mournful Œnone, wandering forlorn
17 Of Paris, once her playmate on the hills.
18 Her cheek had lost the rose, and round her neck
19 Floated her hair or seem'd to float in rest.
20 She, leaning on a fragment twined with vine,
21 Sang to the stillness, till the mountain-shade
22 Sloped downward to her seat from the upper cliff.

23 "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
24 Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
25 For now the noonday quiet holds the hill:
26 The grasshopper is silent in the grass:
27 The lizard, with his shadow on the stone,
28 Rests like a shadow, and the winds are dead.
29 The purple flower droops: the golden bee
30 Is lily-cradled: I alone awake.
31 My eyes are full of tears, my heart of love,
32 My heart is breaking, and my eyes are dim,
33 And I am all aweary of my life.

34 "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
35 Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
36 Hear me, O Earth, hear me, O Hills, O Caves
37 That house the cold crown'd snake! O mountain brooks,
38 I am the daughter of a River-God,
39 Hear me, for I will speak, and build up all
40 My sorrow with my song, as yonder walls
41 Rose slowly to a music slowly breathed,
42 A cloud that gather'd shape: for it may be
43 That, while I speak of it, a little while
44 My heart may wander from its deeper woe.

45 "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
46 Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
47 I waited underneath the dawning hills,
48 Aloft the mountain lawn was dewy-dark,
49 And dewy-dark aloft the mountain pine:
50 Beautiful Paris, evil-hearted Paris,
51 Leading a jet-black goat white-horn'd, white-hooved,
52 Came up from reedy Simois all alone.

53 "O mother Ida, harken ere I die.
54 Far-off the torrent call'd me from the cleft:
55 Far up the solitary morning smote
56 The streaks of virgin snow. With down-dropt eyes
57 I sat alone: white-breasted like a star
58 Fronting the dawn he moved; a leopard skin
59 Droop'd from his shoulder, but his sunny hair
60 Cluster'd about his temples like a God's:
61 And his cheek brighten'd as the foam-bow brightens
62 When the wind blows the foam, and all my heart
63 Went forth to embrace him coming ere he came.

64 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
65 He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palm
66 Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold,
67 That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd
68 And listen'd, the full-flowing river of speech
69 Came down upon my heart.

`My own Œnone,
70 Beautiful-brow'd Œnone, my own soul,
71 Behold this fruit, whose gleaming rind ingrav'n
72 "For the most fair," would seem to award it thine,
73 As lovelier than whatever Oread haunt
74 The knolls of Ida, loveliest in all grace
75 Of movement, and the charm of married brows.'

76 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
77 He prest the blossom of his lips to mine,
78 And added 'This was cast upon the board,
79 When all the full-faced presence of the Gods
80 Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon
81 Rose feud, with question unto whom 'twere due:
82 But light-foot Iris brought it yester-eve,
83 Delivering that to me, by common voice
84 Elected umpire, Herè comes to-day,
85 Pallas and Aphroditè, claiming each
86 This meed of fairest. Thou, within the cave
87 Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine,
88 Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard
89 Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.'

90 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
91 It was the deep midnoon: one silvery cloud
92 Had lost his way between the piney sides
93 Of this long glen. Then to the bower they came,
94 Naked they came to that smooth-swarded bower,
95 And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,
96 Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,
97 Lotos and lilies: and a wind arose,
98 And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,
99 This way and that, in many a wild festoon
100 Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs
101 With bunch and berry and flower thro' and thro'.

102 "O mother Ida, harken ere I die.
103 On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit,
104 And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and lean'd
105 Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew.
106 Then first I heard the voice of her, to whom
107 Coming thro' Heaven, like a light that grows
108 Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods
109 Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made
110 Proffer of royal power, ample rule
111 Unquestion'd, overflowing revenue
112 Wherewith to embellish state, 'from many a vale
113 And river-sunder'd champaign clothed with corn,
114 Or labour'd mine undrainable of ore.
115 Honour,' she said, 'and homage, tax and toll,
116 From many an inland town and haven large,
117 Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing citadel
118 In glassy bays among her tallest towers.'

119 "O mother Ida, harken ere I die.
120 Still she spake on and still she spake of power,
121 'Which in all action is the end of all;
122 Power fitted to the season; wisdom-bred
123 And throned of wisdom--from all neighbour crowns
124 Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand
125 Fail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon from me,
126 From me, Heaven's Queen, Paris, to thee king-born,
127 A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born,
128 Should come most welcome, seeing men, in power
129 Only, are likest Gods, who have attain'd
130 Rest in a happy place and quiet seats
131 Above the thunder, with undying bliss
132 In knowledge of their own supremacy.'

133 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
134 She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit
135 Out at arm's-length, so much the thought of power
136 Flatter'd his spirit; but Pallas where she stood
137 Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs
138 O'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear
139 Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,
140 The while, above, her full and earnest eye
141 Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek
142 Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply.

143 "`Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,
144 These three alone lead life to sovereign power.
145 Yet not for power (power of herself
146 Would come uncall'd for) but to live by law,
147 Acting the law we live by without fear;
148 And, because right is right, to follow right
149 Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'

150 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
151 Again she said: 'I woo thee not with gifts.
152 Sequel of guerdon could not alter me
153 To fairer. Judge thou me by what I am,
154 So shalt thou find me fairest.

Yet, indeed,
155 If gazing on divinity disrobed
156 Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair,
157 Unbias'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sure
158 That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,
159 So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood,
160 Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's,
161 To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks,
162 Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow
163 Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown will,
164 Circled thro' all experiences, pure law,
165 Commeasure perfect freedom.'

Here she ceas'd
166 And Paris ponder'd, and I cried, 'O Paris,
167 Give it to Pallas!' but he heard me not,
168 Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!

169 "O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida,
170 Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
171 Italian Aphroditè beautiful,
172 Fresh as the foam, new-bathed in Paphian wells,
173 With rosy slender fingers backward drew
174 From her warm brows and bosom her deep hair
175 Ambrosial, golden round her lucid throat
176 And shoulder: from the violets her light foot
177 Shone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded form
178 Between the shadows of the vine-bunches
179 Floated the glowing sunlights, as she moved.

180 "Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
181 She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes,
182 The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh
183 Half-whisper'd in his ear, 'I promise thee
184 The fairest and most loving wife in Greece.'
185 She spoke and laugh'd: I shut my sight for fear:
186 But when I look'd, Paris had raised his arm,
187 And I beheld great Herè's angry eyes,
188 As she withdrew into the golden cloud,
189 And I was left alone within the bower;
190 And from that time to this I am alone,
191 And I shall be alone until I die.

192 "Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die.
193 Fairest--why fairest wife? am I not fair?
194 My love hath told me so a thousand times.
195 Methinks I must be fair, for yesterday,
196 When I past by, a wild and wanton pard,
197 Eyed like the evening star, with playful tail
198 Crouch'd fawning in the weed. Most loving is she?
199 Ah me, my mountain shepherd, that my arms
200 Were wound about thee, and my hot lips prest
201 Close, close to thine in that quick-falling dew
202 Of fruitful kisses, thick as Autumn rains
203 Flash in the pools of whirling Simois!

204 "O mother, hear me yet before I die.
205 They came, they cut away my tallest pines,
206 My tall dark pines, that plumed the craggy ledge
207 High over the blue gorge, and all between
208 The snowy peak and snow-white cataract
209 Foster'd the callow eaglet--from beneath
210 Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark morn
211 The panther's roar came muffled, while I sat
212 Low in the valley. Never, never more
213 Shall lone Œnone see the morning mist
214 Sweep thro' them; never see them overlaid
215 With narrow moon-lit slips of silver cloud,
216 Between the loud stream and the trembling stars.

217 "O mother, hear me yet before I die.
218 I wish that somewhere in the ruin'd folds,
219 Among the fragments tumbled from the glens,
220 Or the dry thickets, I could meet with her
221 The Abominable, that uninvited came
222 Into the fair Pele{:i}an banquet-hall,
223 And cast the golden fruit upon the board,
224 And bred this change; that I might speak my mind,
225 And tell her to her face how much I hate
226 Her presence, hated both of Gods and men.

227 "O mother, hear me yet before I die.
228 Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times,
229 In this green valley, under this green hill,
230 Ev'n on this hand, and sitting on this stone?
231 Seal'd it with kisses? water'd it with tears?
232 O happy tears, and how unlike to these!
233 O happy Heaven, how canst thou see my face?
234 O happy earth, how canst thou bear my weight?
235 O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud,
236 There are enough unhappy on this earth,
237 Pass by the happy souls, that love to live:
238 I pray thee, pass before my light of life,
239 And shadow all my soul, that I may die.
240 Thou weighest heavy on the heart within,
241 Weigh heavy on my eyelids: let me die.

242 "O mother, hear me yet before I die.
243 I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts
244 Do shape themselves within me, more and more,
245 Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear
246 Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills,
247 Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly see
248 My far-off doubtful purpose, as a mother
249 Conjectures of the features of her child
250 Ere it is born: her child!--a shudder comes
251 Across me: never child be born of me,
252 Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes!

253 "O mother, hear me yet before I die.
254 Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone,
255 Lest their shrill happy laughter come to me
256 Walking the cold and starless road of death
257 Uncomforted, leaving my ancient love
258 With the Greek woman. I will rise and go
259 Down into Troy, and ere the stars come forth
260 Talk with the wild Cassandra, for she says
261 A fire dances before her, and a sound
262 Rings ever in her ears of armed men.
263 What this may be I know not, but I know
264 That, wheresoe'er I am by night and day,
265 All earth and air seem only burning fire."

NOTES

Form: unrhyming

1. The first of Tennyson's poems to treat classical myths, it is based chiefly on Ovid's Heroides V. The classical legend tells of the nymph Œnone, daughter of Mt. Ida and the river-god Simois, who laments her desertion by her husband Paris, son of King Priam of Troy. Paris has left to seek out Helen. Ida: mountain range near ancient Troy.

10. Gargarus: highest peak of Mt. Ida.

39-40. Rose slowly to a music: Troy was said to have been reared to music.

51. Simois: a river near Troy.

65. Hesperian gold: the golden apples guarded by the Hesperides in the gardens of the West.

72. Oread: a mountam nymph.

74. married brows: eyebrows that meet, considered a mark of beauty.

79. Peleus: King of Thessaly, who invited all the gods to attend his wedding to the sea-nymph Thetis, except Eris, the goddess of discord. In anger and revenge, Eris cast upon the table a golden apple bearing the label, "For the fairest." The resultant quarrel among the goddesses led to the Trojan war.

81. Iris: messenger of the gods.

83. Heré: Juno, wife of Jupiter.

84. Pallas: Minerva, goddess of wisdom. Aphrodite: Venus, goddess of love and beauty.

95. amaracus: marjoram.

102. peacock: sacred to Heré‚ or Juno.

126. king-born: Paris, son of King Priam, lived as a shepherd. At his birth it had been prophesied that he would bring ruin to Troy. Left on Mt. Ida to perish, he had been rescued and brought up by a shepherd.

170. Idalian: Idalium in Cyprus was a favorite haunt of Aphrodite.

171. Paphian wells. It was to Paphos in Cyprus that Aphrodite came after her birth from the foam of the sea.

183. Helen: wife of Menelaus, King of Lacedaemon. Her elopement with Paris, son of Priam, was the cause of the Trojan war.

204. They came: Trojan ship-builders in search of timber.

220. The Abominable: Eris, the goddess of strife.

259. Cassandra: daughter of Priam, endowed with prophetic powers by Apollo, but fated never to be believed.