Public Domain Poetry And Stories - The Naked Goddess by James Thomson - (Bysshe Vanolis)
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The Naked Goddess

    By James Thomson - (Bysshe Vanolis)



    “Arcane danze
    D’immortal piede i ruinosi gioghi
    Scossero e l’ardue selve (oggi romito
    Nido de’ vend).”
    - LEOPARDI.



    Through the country to the town
    Ran a rumour and renown,
    That a woman grand and tall,
    Swift of foot, and therewithal
    Naked as a lily gleaming,
    Had been seen by eyes not dreaming,
    Darting down far forest glades,
    Flashing sunshine through the shades.

    With this rumour’s swelling word
    All the city buzzed and stirred;
    Solemn senators conferred;
    Priest, astrologer, and mage,
    Subtle sophist, bard, and sage,
    Brought their wisdom, lore, and wit,
    To expound or riddle it:
    Last a porter ventured “We
    Might go out ourselves to see.”

    Thus, upon a summer morn,
    Lo the city all forlorn;
    Every house and street and square
    In the sunshine still and bare,
    Every galley left to sway
    Silent in the glittering bay;
    All the people swarming out,
    Young and old a joyous rout,
    Rich and poor, far-streaming through
    Fields and meadows dark with dew,
    Crowd on crowd, and throng on throng;
    Chatter, laughter, jest, and song
    Deafened all the singing birds,
    Wildered sober grazing herds.

    Up the hillside ‘gainst the sun,
    Where the forest outskirts run;
    On along the level high,
    Where the azure of the sky,
    And the ruddy morning sheen,
    Drop in fragments through the treen
    Where the sward surrounds the brake
    With a lucid, glassy lake,
    Where the ample glades extend
    Until clouds and foliage blend;
    Where whoever turneth may
    See the city and the bay,
    And, beyond, the broad sea bright,
    League on league of slanting light;
    Where the moist blue shadows sleep
    In the sacred forest deep.

    Suddenly the foremost pause,
    Ere the rear discern a cause;
    Loiterers press up row on row,
    All the mass heaves to and fro;
    All seem murmuring in one strain,
    All seem hearkening fixed and fain
    Silence, and the lifted light
    Of countless faces gazing white.

    Four broad beech-trees, great of bole,
    Crowned the green, smooth-swelling knoll;
    There She leant, the glorious form
    Dazzling with its beauty warm,
    Naked as the sun of noon,
    Naked as the midnight moon:
    And around her, tame and mild,
    All the forest creatures wild,
    Lion, panther, kid, and fawn,
    Eagle, hawk, and dove, all drawn
    By the magic of her splendour,
    By her great voice, rich and tender,
    Whereof every beast and bird
    Understood each tone and word,
    While she fondled and carest,
    Playing freaks of joyous zest.

    Suddenly the lion stood,
    Turned and saw the multitude,
    Swelled his mighty front in ire,
    Roared the roar of raging fire:
    Then She turned, the living light,
    Sprang erect, grew up in height,
    Smote them with the flash and blaze
    Of her terrible, swift gaze;
    A divine, flushed, throbbing form,
    Dreadfuller than blackest storm.

    All the forest creatures cowered,
    Trembling, moaning, overpowered;
    All the simple folk who saw
    Sank upon their knees in awe
    Of this Goddess, fierce and splendid,
    Whom they witless had offended;
    And they murmured out faint prayers,
    Inarticulate. despairs,
    Till her haught and angry mien
    Grew more gentle and serene.

    Stood the high priest forth, and went
    Halfway up the green ascent;
    There began a preachment long
    Of the great and grievous wrong
    She unto her own soul wrought,
    In thus living without thought
    Of the gods who sain and save,
    Of the life beyond the grave:
    Living with the beasts that perish,
    Far from all the rites that cherish
    Hope and faith and holy love,
    And appease the thrones above:
    Full of unction pled the preacher;
    Let her come and they would teach her
    Spirit strangled in the mesh
    Of the vile and sinful flesh,
    How to gain the heavenly prize,
    How grow meet for Paradise;
    Penance, prayer, self sacrifice,
    Fasting, cloistered solitude,
    Mind uplifted, heart subdued;
    Thus a Virgin, clean and chaste,
    In the Bridegroom’s arms embraced.
    Vestal sister’s hooded gown,
    Straight and strait, of dismal brown,
    Here he proffered, and laid down
    On the green grass like a frown.

    Then stood forth the old arch-sage,
    Wrinkled more with thought than age:
    What could worse afflict, deject
    Any well-trained intellect
    Than in savage forest seeing
    Such a full-grown human being
    With the beasts and birds at play,
    Ignorant and wild as they?
    Sciences and arts, by which
    Man makes Nature’s poor life rich,
    Dominates the world around,
    Proves himself its King self-crowned,
    She knew nothing of them, she
    Knew not even what they be!
    Body naked to the air,
    And the reason just as bare!
    Yet (since circumstance, that can
    Hinder the full growth of man,
    Cannot kill the seeds of worth
    Innate in the Lord of Earth),
    Yet she might be taught and brought
    To full sovranty of thought,
    Crowned with reason’s glorious crown.
    So he tendered and laid down,
    Sober grey beside the brown,
    Amplest philosophic gown.

    Calm and proud she stood the while
    With a certain wondering smile;
    When the luminous sage was done
    She began to speak as one
    Using language not her own,
    Simplest words in sweetest tone:
    “Poor old greybeards, worn and bent!
    I do know not what they meant;
    Only here and there a word
    Reached my mind of all I heard;
    Let some child come here, I may
    Understand what it can say.”

    So two little children went,
    Lingering up the green ascent,
    Hand in hand, but grew the while
    Bolder in her gentle smile;
    When she kissed them they were free,
    Joyous as at mother’s knee.
    “Tell me, darlings, now,” said she,
    “What they want to say to me.”
    Boy and girl then, nothing loth,
    Sometimes one and sometimes both,
    Prattled to her sitting there
    Fondling with their soft young hair:
    “Dear kind lady, do you stay
    Here with always holiday?
    Do you sleep among the trees
    People want you, if you please,
    To put on your dress and come
    With us to the City home;
    Live with us and be our friend
    Oh, such pleasant times we’ll spend! . . .
    But if you can’t come away,
    Will you let us stop and play
    With you and all these happy things
    With hair and horns and shining wings?”

    She arose and went half down,
    Took the vestal sister’s gown,.
    Tried it on, burst through its shroud,
    As the sun burns through a cloud:
    Flung it from her split and rent;
    Said: “This cerement sad was meant
    For some creature stunted, thin,
    Breastless, blighted, bones and skin.”

    Then the sage’s robe she tried,
    Muffling in its long folds wide
    All her lithe and glorious grace:
    “I should stumble every pace!
    This big bag was meant to hold
    Some poor sluggard fat and old,
    Limping, shuffling wearily,
    With a form not fit to see!
    “So she flung it off again
    With a gesture of disdain.

    Naked as the midnight moon,
    Naked as the sun of noon,
    Burning too intensely bright,
    Clothed in its own dazzling light;
    Seen less thus than in the shroud
    Of morning mist or evening cloud;
    She stood terrible and proud
    O’er the pallid quivering crowd.

    At a gesture ere they wist,
    Perched a falcon on her wrist,
    And she whispered to the bird
    Something it alone there heard;
    Then she threw it off: when thrown
    Straight it rose as falls a stone,
    Arrow-swift on high, on high,
    Till a mere speck in the sky;
    Then it circled round and round,
    Till, as if the prey were found,
    Forth it darted on its quest
    Straight away into the West. . . .
    Every eye that watched its flight
    Felt a sideward flash of light,
    All were for a moment dazed,
    Then around intently gazed
    What had passed them?        Where was She,
    The offended deity?
    O’er the city, o’er the bay,
    They beheld her melt away,
    Melt away beyond their quest
    Through the regions of the west;
    While the eagle screamed rauque ire,
    And the lion roared like fire.

    That same night both priest and sage
    Died accursed in sombre rage.
    Never more in wild wood green
    Was that glorious Goddess seen,
    Never more: and from that day
    Evil hap and dull decay
    Fell on countryside and town;
    Life and vigour dwindled down;
    Storms in Spring nipped bud and sprout,
    Summer suns shed plague and drought,
    Autumn’s store was crude and scant,
    Winter snows beleaguered want;
    Vines were black at vintage-tide,
    Flocks and herds of murrain died;
    Fishing boats came empty home,
    Good ships foundered in the foam;
    Haggard traders lost all heart
    Wandering through the empty mart:
    For the air hung thick with gloom,
    Silence, and the sense of doom.

    But those little children she
    Had caressed so tenderly
    Were betrothed that self-same night,
    Grew up beautiful and bright,
    Lovers through the years of play
    Forward to their marriage-day.
    Three long moons of bridal bliss
    Overflowed them; after this,
    With his bride and with a band
    Of the noblest in the land,
    Youths and maidens, wedded pairs
    Scarcely older in life’s cares,
    He took ship and sailed away
    Westward Ho from out the bay:
    Portioned from their native shrine
    With the Sacred Fire divine,
    They will cherish while they roam,
    Quenchless ’mid the salt sea foam,
    Till it burns beneath a dome
    In some new and far-off home.

    As they ventured more and more
    In that ocean without shore,
    And some hearts were growing cold
    At the emprise all too bold,
    It is said a falcon came
    Down the void blue swift as flame;
    Every sunset came to rest
    On the prow’s high curving crest,
    Every sunrise rose from rest
    Flying forth into the west;
    And they followed, faint no more,
    Through that ocean without shore.

    Three moons crescent fill and wane
    O’er the solitary main,
    When behold a green shore smile:
    It was that Atlantic isle,
    Drowned beneath the waves and years,
    Whereof some faint shadow peers
    Dubious through the modern stream
    Of Platonic legend-dream.
    High upon that green shore stood
    She who left their native wood;
    Glorious, and with solemn hand
    Beckoned to them there to land.
    Though She forthwith disappeared
    As the wave-worn galley neared,
    They knew well her presence still
    Haunted stream and wood and hill.
    There they landed, there grew great,
    Founders of a mighty state
    There the Sacred Fire divine
    Burned within a wondrous shrine
    Which Her statue glorified
    Throughout many kingdoms wide.
    There those children wore the crown
    To their children handed down
    Many and many a golden age
    Blotted now from history’s page;
    Till the last of all the line
    Leagued him with the other nine
    Great Atlantic kings whose hosts
    Ravaged all the Mid Sea coasts:
    Then the whelming deluge rolled
    Over all those regions old;
    Thrice three thousand years before
    Solon questioned Egypt’s lore.1




Extra Info:
1866 - 1867

1. Plato: the Timæus, and the Critias.


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