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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415814" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bacchus and Ariadne</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking.<br>When Ariadne in her bower was waking;<br>Her eyelids still were closing, and she heard<br>But indistinctly yet a little bird.<br>That in the leaves o'erhead, waiting the sun.<br>Seemed answering another distant one.<br>She wakes, but stirred not, only just to please<br>Her pillow-nestling cheek; while the full seas.<br> * * * * *<br>Her senses lingering in the feel of sleep;<br>And with a little smile she seemed to say,<br>'I know my love is near me, and 'tis day.'<br>At length, not feeling the accustomed arm.<br>That from all sense of fancied want and harm<br>Used to enclose her, when she turned that way.<br>She stretched her hand to feel where Theseus lay. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But how? Not there? She starts with a small cry,<br>And feels the empty space, and runs her eye<br>O'er all the bower, and stretches from the bed<br>One hasty foot, and listens with wild head.<br>No sight—no voice: she tries to smile, heart-sick.<br>And murmurs, 'Oh, 'tis but some hiding trick;<br>He sees me through the boughs:' and so she rose.<br>And, like a wood-nymph, through the glimmering goes.<br>And for a while delays to call his name,<br>Pretending she should spoil his amorous game;<br>But stops at last, her throat full-pulsed with fears.<br>And calls convulsively with bursting tears;<br>Then calls again; and then in the open air<br>Rushes, and fiercely calls. He is not there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The faithless bark, far off, leaning away.<br>And now with gleaming sail, and now with dim.<br>Hastening to slip o'er the horizon's brim.<br>'Tis gone; and as a dead thing, down falls she.<br>In the great eye of morn, then breaking quietly. (lines 41–45)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Some say that Theseus took this selfish flight<br>From common causes — a cloyed appetite;<br>Others, that having brought her sister there<br>As well, he turned his easy love to her;<br>And others, who are sure to quote Heaven's orders 50<br>For great men's crimes, though not for small disorders.<br>Pretend that Bacchus in the true old way,<br>A dream, advised him sternly not to stay.<br>But go and cut up nations limb by limb.<br>And leave the lady and the bower to him.<br>One tiling looks certain,—that the chief that day<br>Was not alone a skulking runaway.<br>But left the woman that believed his smile<br>To all the horrors of a desert isle. (lines 41–59)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, Theseus, Theseus!' then awhile she stopped,<br>And turned, and in her hand her poor face dropped,<br>Shaking her head, and cried, 'How could you go.<br>And leave me here to die, that loved you so!<br>I would not have left you, even for mirth.<br>Not in the best and safest place on earth;<br>Nor, had you been never so false a one, 90<br>Denied you this poor breast to lean upon;<br>Much less for loving too confidingly;<br>And yet, for nothing worse, have you left me;<br>Left me—left Ariadne, sleeping too<br>Fast by your side; and yet for you, for you,<br>She left her father, country, home, and all. (lines 84–96)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Suddenly from a wood his dancers rush.<br>Leaping like wines that from the bottle gush;<br>Bounding they come, and twirl, and thrust on high<br>Their thyrsuses, as they would rouse the sky;<br>And hurry here and there, in loosened bands,<br>And trill above their heads their cymballed hands:<br>Some, brawny males, that almost show from far<br>Their forceful arms, cloudy and muscular;<br>Some, smoother females, who have nevertheless<br>Strong limbs, and hands, to fling with and to press;<br>And shapes, which they can bend with heavenward glare.<br>And tortuous wrists, and backward streaming hair.<br>A troop of goat-foot shapes came trampling after. (lines 161–173)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bacchus took in his arms his bridal lass.<br>And gave and shared as much more happiness<br>Than Theseus, as a noble spirit's caress.<br>Full of sincerity, and mind, and heart.<br>Out-relishes mere fire and self-embittering art. (lines 339–343)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grateful god took off from his love's hair<br>Her fervid crown; and with a leap i' the air,<br>As when a quoiter springs to his firm eye.<br>Whirled it in buzzing swiftness to the sky.<br>Starry already, and with heat within,<br>It fired as it flew up with that fierce spin.<br>And opening into grandeur, round and even.<br>Shook its immortal sparkles out of heaven.<br> * * * * *<br>The easy wear of inward gracefulness.<br>Beneath this star, this star, where'er she be.<br>Sits the accomplished female womanly:<br>Part of its light is round about her hair;<br>And should her gentle cheek be wet with care,<br>The tears shall be kissed off, as Ariadne's were.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Henry+Leigh+Hunt">James Henry Leigh Hunt</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=415814" data-title="Bacchus and Ariadne de James Henry Leigh Hunt" data-description="The moist and quiet morn was scarcely breaking.
When Ariadne in her bower was waking;
Her eyelids still were closing, and she heard
But indistinctly yet a little bird.
That in the leaves o'erhead, waiting the sun.
Seemed answering another distant ..."></div>
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