POETRY.
[Timoleon, after taking part in the murder of his brother, who aimed at the Tyranny of Corinth, being sent in command to Syracuse, expelled Dionysius the Younger, razed the fortress of Ortygia, defeated the Carthaginians at Crimessus, and liberated Syracuse. He erected a chapel in his garden to Alpropwria.]
BUT two short summers, since that April sun Lifted the mist from off Crimessus' plain, Lifted the cloud from off my darkened life, Lifted the blackness of a mother's curse, The crimson horror of a brother's blood, Lifted it all, and showed my straining eyes The glory of a nation's freedom, won By righteous war, the glory of a name Freed from the taint, that ever night and day Hung round me like the loathed Helorusl plague : But two short summers since, and now blind, blind I O Gods ! 0 Goddess, who halt ruled my life, Whose shrine in yonder garden tells the tale Of all my sorrows and of all my joy, First Impulse,' by the undiscerning herd Called Fortune' —nay, no Fortune, but Thy voice, Which bade me urge him with that last appeal, And armed,—ah, Gods ! I drew my robe across To hide it from my eyes,—and now, blind, blind ! I loved him, saved him, slew him : noblest deed Or the moat cursed that the world has seen. Which of the two ? For twenty maddened years No answer came, or else my ears were shut For anguish of my soul, till in that cry, ' Timoleon for Syracuse,' I heard, Surely I heard Thy voice, and life was waked, And newborn hope, and ever since that day Thy guidance has been with me, to the eyes Of all men manifest, by flood and field, In peace and war, what time the holy flame Guided my path across the favouring seas ; What time beneath the Sacred City's walls I smote with sudden slaughter, and the God Came forth to welcome me ; what time I razed The despot's island stronghold, to upbuild A home for Justice, and my trireme bore The self-convicted fool to be a show For Corinth, and the glory of my name, And doom of tyranny ; all this was Thine, And Thine the crowning triumph of that day When sun and mist and hail and lightning fought In Sicily's behest, —and now, blind, blind The curse of utter darkness ! Said I, curse ? Why cursed P 0 Goddess ! can the truth be there, The awful truth be there, and Thou be false, Thy promptings hellish falsehood, when I slew,— No, no, I did not slay,—I held my hand,- 'Twas not my sword.—O, have I come to this, That I should palter like a felon wretch, Stammering excuse to shield a forfeit life !
Are all the doubts of all those weary years Loosed by the sudden sentence of the Power, Who sees, and weighs, and knows ? The Furies' curse P I mind me, when the mimic sisters shook A shuddering horror from the gaping crowd, The man who slew his mother,—slew, for stress
Of private wrong,—could face, could see, his foes :
His eyes were bright and bold to trust the God, That stood beside him at the pictured shrine, Visible, to justify the deed ; but I !
I see not, know not, only, when the flash, Red flash, red crimson, comes athwart my black, I see,—I seem to see.-0 Goddess ! Thou To whom my faith is fixed, whom now to doubt Were fiercer agony of guilt than drave
That Fury-haunted son :—his doom was swift,
No breathing-time of sweet prosperity, No grateful country saved, no glory, whelmed, As, after wealth of sunshine through the years, Our Etna whelms the glory of its fields With fires of hell,—I will not, must not, doubt.
Only, 0 Goddess ! grant me of thy grace Some sign, some token, to confirm my trust, That this thick-gathered blackness bury not Timoleon's name, and darken all my days.
What do I hear ? The trampling hoofs of mules.
The shout of thousand voices P "W hat is this ?
" The Senate and free State of Syracuse, Debating matter of high import, wait The gracious presence of Timoleon, Their city's saviour, and its only stay."
Well did I do to fling all doubt aside.
Timoleon their saviour ! ' I did well. 0. OGLE.
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