The Eleusinian Festival

Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear!With it, the Cyane blue intertwineRapture must render each glance bright and clear,For the great queen is approaching her shrine,--She who compels lawless passions to cease,Who to link man with his fellow has come,And into firm habitations of peaceChanged the rude tents' ever-wandering home.

Shyly in the mountain-cleftWas the Troglodyte concealed;And the roving Nomad left,Desert lying, each broad field.With the javelin, with the bow,Strode the hunter through the land;To the hapless stranger woe,Billow-cast on that wild strand!

When, in her sad wanderings lost,Seeking traces of her child,Ceres hailed the dreary coast,Ah, no verdant plain then smiled!That she here with trust may stay,None vouchsafes a sheltering roof;Not a temple's columns gayGive of godlike worship proof.

Fruit of no propitious earBids her to the pure feast fly;On the ghastly altars hereHuman bones alone e'er dry.Far as she might onward rove,Misery found she still in all,And within her soul of love,Sorrowed she o'er man's deep fall.

"Is it thus I find the manTo whom we our image lend,Whose fair limbs of noble spanUpward towards the heavens ascend?Laid we not before his feetEarth's unbounded godlike womb?Yet upon his kingly seatWanders he without a home?"

"Does no god compassion feel?Will none of the blissful race,With an arm of miracle,Raise him from his deep disgrace?In the heights where rapture reignsPangs of others ne'er can move;Yet man's anguish and man's painsMy tormented heart must prove."

"So that a man a man may be,Let him make an endless bondWith the kind earth trustingly,Who is ever good and fondTo revere the law of time,And the moon's melodious songWho, with silent step sublime,Move their sacred course along."

And she softly parts the cloudThat conceals her from the sight;Sudden, in the savage crowd,Stands she, as a goddess bright.There she finds the concourse rudeIn their glad feast revelling,And the chalice filled with bloodAs a sacrifice they bring.

But she turns her face away,Horror-struck, and speaks the while"Bloody tiger-feasts ne'er mayOf a god the lips defile,He needs victims free from stain,Fruits matured by autumn's sun;With the pure gifts of the plainHonored is the Holy One!"

And she takes the heavy shaftFrom the hunter's cruel hand;With the murderous weapon's haftFurrowing the light-strown sand,--Takes from out her garland's crown,Filled with life, one single grain,Sinks it in the furrow down,And the germ soon swells amain.

And the green stalks gracefullyShoot, ere long, the ground above,And, as far as eye can see,Waves it like a golden grove.With her smile the earth she cheers,Binds the earliest sheaves so fair,As her hearth the landmark rears,--And the goddess breathes this prayer:

"Father Zeus, who reign'st o'er allThat in ether's mansions dwell,Let a sign from thee now fallThat thou lov'st this offering well!And from the unhappy crowdThat, as yet, has ne'er known thee,Take away the eye's dark cloud,Showing them their deity!"

Zeus, upon his lofty throne,Harkens to his sister's prayer;From the blue heights thundering down,Hurls his forked lightning there,Crackling, it begins to blaze,From the altar whirling bounds,--And his swift-winged eagle playsHigh above in circling rounds.

Soon at the feet of their mistress are kneeling,Filled with emotion, the rapturous throng;Into humanity's earliest feelingMelt their rude spirits, untutored and strong.Each bloody weapon behind them they leave,Rays on their senses beclouded soon shine,And from the mouth of the queen they receive,Gladly and meekly, instruction divine.

All the deities advanceDownward from their heavenly seats;Themis' self 'tis leads the dance,And, with staff of justice, metesUnto every one his rights,--Landmarks, too, 'tis hers to fix;And in witness she invitesAll the hidden powers of Styx.

And the forge-god, too, is there,The inventive son of Zeus;Fashioner of vessels fairSkilled in clay and brass's use.'Tis from him the art man knowsTongs and bellows how to wield;'Neath his hammer's heavy blowsWas the ploughshare first revealed.

With projecting, weighty spear,Front of all, Minerva stands,Lifts her voice so strong and clear,And the godlike host commands.Steadfast walls 'tis hers to found,Shield and screen for every one,That the scattered world aroundBind in loving unison.

The immortals' steps she guidesO'er the trackless plains so vast,And where'er her foot abidesIs the boundary god held fast;And her measuring chain is ledRound the mountain's border green,--E'en the raging torrent's bedIn the holy ring is seen.

All the Nymphs and Oreads tooWho, the mountain pathways o'er,Swift-foot Artemis pursue,All to swell the concourse, pour,Brandishing the hunting-spear,--Set to work,--glad shouts uprise,--'Neath their axes' blows so clearCrashing down the pine-wood flies.

E'en the sedge-crowned God ascendsFrom his verdant spring to light,And his raft's direction bendsAt the goddess' word of might,--While the hours, all gently bound,Nimbly to their duty fly;Rugged trunks are fashioned roundBy her skilled hand gracefully.

E'en the sea-god thither fares;--Sudden, with his trident's blow,He the granite columns tearsFrom earth's entrails far below;--In his mighty hands, on high,Waves he them, like some light ball,And with nimble Hermes by,Raises up the rampart-wall.

But from out the golden stringsLures Apollo harmony,Measured time's sweet murmurings,And the might of melody.The Camoenae swell the strainWith their song of ninefold tone:Captive bound in music's chain,Softly stone unites to stone.

Cybele, with skilful hand,Open throws the wide-winged door;Locks and bolts by her are planned,Sure to last forevermore.Soon complete the wondrous hallsBy the gods' own hands are made,And the temple's glowing wallsStand in festal pomp arrayed.

With a crown of myrtle twined,Now the goddess queen comes there,And she leads the fairest hindTo the shepherdess most fair.Venus, with her beauteous boy,That first pair herself attires;All the gods bring gifts of joy,Blessing their love's sacred fires.

Guided by the deities,Soon the new-born townsmen pour,Ushered in with harmonies,Through the friendly open door.Holding now the rites divine,Ceres at Zeus' altar stands,--Blessing those around the shrine,Thus she speaks, with folded hands:--

"Freedom's love the beast inflames,And the god rules free in air,While the law of Nature tamesEach wild lust that lingers there.Yet, when thus together thrown,Man with man must fain unite;And by his own worth aloneCan he freedom gain, and might."

Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear!With it, the Cyane blue intertwine!Rapture must render each glance bright and clear,For the great queen is approaching her shrine,--She who our homesteads so blissful has given,She who has man to his fellow-man bound:Let our glad numbers extol then to heaven,Her who the earth's kindly mother is found!