Legend

Listen, my beloved, while the silver morning, like a tranquil vision,Fills the world around us and our hearts with peace;Quiet is the close of Aristaeus' legend, happy is the ending--Listen while I tell you how he found release.

Many months he wandered far away in sadness, desolately thinkingOnly of the vanished joys he could not find;Till the great Apollo, pitying his shepherd, loosed him from the burdenOf a dark, reluctant, backward-looking mind.

Then he saw around him all the changeful beauty of the changing seasons,In the world-wide regions where his journey lay;Birds that sang to cheer him, flowers that bloomed beside him, stars thatshone to guide him,--Traveller's joy was plenty all along the way!

Everywhere he journeyed strangers made him welcome, listened while hetaught themSecret lore of field and forest he had learned:How to train the vines and make the olives fruitful; how to guard thesheepfolds;How to stay the fever when the dog-star burned.

Friendliness and blessing followed in his footsteps; richer were theharvests,Happier the dwellings, wheresoe'er he came;Little children loved him, and he left behind him, in the hour ofparting,Memories of kindness and a god-like name.

So he travelled onward, desolate no longer, patient in his seeking,Reaping all the wayside comfort of his quest;Till at last in Thracia, high upon Mount Haemus, far from human dwelling,Weary Aristaeus laid him down to rest.

Then the honey-makers, clad in downy whiteness, fluttered soft aroundhim,Wrapt him in a dreamful slumber pure and deep.This is life, beloved: first a sheltered garden, then a troubled journey,Joy and pain of seeking,--and at last we sleep!