# Verses (Baughan)/Nereia

NEREIA
TIRED of solemn toil, of restless search After the truth of things that still seem false: Tired of all our subtle schemes to catch The living thought, to rend and ravage it, Till at its heart of hearts our ruthless thirst For motives and hid meanings and dark signs Of something great, profound, and serious Be glutted: tir’d of these, and tir’d to death Of mine own feverish mind and seething doubts, I snatch’d a quiet week by the blue sea, And set to words a picture of my brain Mere colour, hoping to find rest thereby.—
Grey glimmering twilight fill’d the dewy air, Right overhead, the dim mysterious sky Hung motionless; but, far away, it slid Smoothly and slow into the tranquil sea, ​And sank in it and melted. And the sea And sky and air were silent, for the dawn Was not far off; all things lay still and watch’d. Above the sea, rose, like some giant ghost, Because the pallid air had swathed it round, The great pile of the palace; ghostly, too, Show’d the broad parapet, and the marble steps That lead from it into the sea beneath; But, in the day, they all are dazzling white, Steps, palace, parapet, all a burning white Beneath the full blue sky.
The water swung With lazy plash over the sheeny steps, Or lifted little lips that curl’d and smiled, Too listless now for laughter, to the verge Of the unmoved marble, then sank back to rest; Laugh’d not, nor sobb’d, but breathed and slept and dream’d. ​And on the fair broad ledges of the steps, So that the lifted wavelets now and then Kiss’d the soft flesh that was as smooth as they: As they are wont to lie there on calm nights, With every dimple quiet, every voice Hushen, and every rounded limb at rest: Lay little children cluster’d, fast asleep. As, sometimes, looking down the clear blue depth, You mark, close-cluster’d in some creviced rock, Bright sea flowers tossing all their hair abroad: But, could you raise the rock, and bare the bells, The rosy bells, of water, you should see How quietly their life would lock itself Within them—they would sink upon the rock And sleep, and never move: even so, they slept, The tender rosy children.
Higher up, The soft air, gliding from the garden, bore Fresh fragrance from the lips of sleeping flowers ​To lips more fresh and flowers more beautiful. For on the marble terrace lay asleep, Beneath the purple awning still outspread, A multitude of maidens. Softly fell The clinging robes round the fair limbs, relax’d, At touch of sleep’s kind hand, into such grace As movement scarce can know. Some spell it seem’d Had sweetly stol’n upon them unaware, With dreamy mesh enfolding them; for none Had laid her down as tho’ in wait for sleep, Yet every one was bended low with sleep As rosebuds bend with dew. One stay’d her head Upon the knees of another, whose own throat, Fall’n back on the low parapet ’mid the mass Of all her dusky tresses, gleam’d and shone Even thro’ the dim grey air; and close beside, With both arms hawthorn-white cross’d wearily, And tir’d brow droop’d upon them, lay one more— Indeed, the ground was strewn with sleeping girls.
​But one, apart a little from the rest, And to the sea most near, kept still her face Seaward, as tho’ a faithful watcher yet, Even amid dreams, for somewhat that should come. Those other maids but as a fair hedge were For this, the fairest of the garden. She Liege lady was by birth and beauty,―she, Nereia, Princess, sea-named and sea-soul’d.
For by the sea it was she first drew breath, And the first sight that met her opening eyes Was the broad blue, a-dazzle with the sun. Nor ever in all her sixteen years had she Made once a journey to the dismal lands That never see the ocean; but her ears Might still receive its music, and her lips Echo the voice of the waves. Her dancing eyes Were sea-blue, and the sun shone clear in them (Yea, you might read, if you knew how to read, ​Each happy thought before she utter’d it, So limpid lay the depth of those blue eyes). Over her head the hair in ripples ran, Bright in their brownness as the crisped lines Of polish’d pebbles that the water flings, In frolic, up and down the sunny beach. Her forehead, level as the sea far-spread, Was pure like foam; her steps were light and free, As the light breeze that springs, at dawn of day And lustrous even, from the dappled strand Where earth and ocean meet. Fair, she, and fresh, Buoyant, deep-hearted, untamed, beautiful; In all ways as our radiant summer sea, Beneath whose flickering dance of sun and wave, Throbs the vast volume of an unknown power; Loving the ocean as a sister, friend, A more than mother to her, left motherless.
Only, she long’d, once and again, for him Who should be sun to her, and she to him ​Sea-like, re-flashing golden love and joy. And having gain’d her life’s whole treasure from The generous-hearted ocean, also this She look’d to have from the same loving hand. And did not look in vain, for, not long since, Over the shifting waters, like a breeze To bring the day new freshness, had there come A gift indeed, a word ineffable, Meet to give thanks for—how the mighty Prince Who is the lord of all lands round about, The loving lord of very loving lands: Whose goodly grace o’erflowing flings abroad, Thro’ all his realm, delight: as when the sun At evening overswells his brimming disc, And, flooded with pure fire, the rich air glows (This is at sunset, but the Prince breathes yet Morn’s unspent vigour): how this royal lord, Extoll’d of all for beauty and for power, Bless’d and belov’d of all, sought yet one gift,— The crowning glory of Nereia’s love. ​And she, a simple maid, what had she done But given him love long since, his noble deeds Caught with a rapture to her noble heart? Yet never had she seen him face to face; But, daily looking for his coming, grew Daily more beautiful, and was most glad.
So when, the day before this dawn, a sloop, Sharp-prow’d, and winged like a butterfly, Came flitting past the palace, and brought news Of royal vessels, sailing stately slow Towards the great rock that keeps the bay at peace, Nereia clapp’d her hands for joy, and ran And stood upon the steps; and there stay’d long Looking for him that was to come. But all The colour faded from the molten west, And fainter grew the faint sea-line; and still No vessel. Then the stars leapt out to watch, And the great moon made smooth a silver way ​From the high rock straight to Nereia’s feet: But still no vessel.
Then Nereia spake: “At dawn he will be here; the sleeping breeze Will wake at dawn, and quickly bring him here; And he shall find me watching when he comes! Here on the terrace will I bide, until Day breaks; yea, here a vigil will I keep, I and my maidens with me.” So they stay’d, She and her maidens, there; but presently Longing for rest grew all too much for them, The dainty maidens, and they sank to sleep. But she, that bore within her breast a heart Throbbing with expectation and strange joy, Desired not sleep, but kept wide-open eyes, Lest suddenly the breeze should blow again, And bring him to the shore, unseen, unhail’d. ​Long time she stood hard by the parapet, Like a bright beacon ’mid the dusky night, For she was very tall and white of limb, And shone in the moonbeams. But the night wore on, And still the stars kept vigil, and the moon, And fair Nereia watch’d with them; but still No vessel rounded the black jutting rock.
Till, hearing the soft breathing of her maids Borne slumbrously upon the air, and all The gentle heavings of the broad sea-breast, She also sank at last to sleep, o’ercome By the kind quiet and persuasive peace; Murmuring low, like a last evening prayer Oft-times repeated: “Prithee hasten, Love!” Then slumber touch’d her lips, and all was still.
But now the flushing of the dawn began To stir within the innocent-hearted heaven; ​And thro’ the tender-breaking little rifts Of faintest crimson, quietly stole forth The young life of the morning; and the sky Woke softly from soft slumber, drawing back Out of the sea’s embrace, but still the sea Slept; nor awoke till Dawn sent forth her swift Thin-winged messenger, the early breeze, With its light touch to rouse the dreamy waves, Telling them “Day is come!”
And presently Nereia’s spirit felt the faint sweet stir That pass’d along the water and the sky; And, tenderly as sleep had taken her, As tenderly it left her, stealing forth By secret ways that no man knoweth of. So from the dewy darkness of her dreams The damsel’s spirit fared, but linger’d yet Within the shadowy opal-tinted mist That tremulously veers round wakening eyes. For, first, she knew she had the sea in sight, ​And then it pass’d from her; yet still she heard, Far-off, its voice; then open’d wide her eyes, Yet knew not where she was; and closed her eyes, Yet knew she was a-watch for one to come. And thus she pictured vague sweet visions forth— How she would push her light skiff from the shore, And row her to the vessel where he stood, And how her hand should touch him, and his face Should turn towards her—here her eyes grew large To look, but only saw, still in a dream, The many-colour’d water; so that thought Left her, and fled. Anon, with eyelids dropp’d, She mused again how the tall ship should swing On the bright water ’neath the gleaming wall That girds the harbour, and with hasty step The Prince come forth to find her, where she sat Among her maidens on the terrace there; And how, before her kneeling, he should pray— But here she laugh’d aloud, to think the Prince To her should kneel! and, starting at the sound, ​Open’d her eyes and half-beheld the sea, Laid, blue and darkling, ’neath the pale blue sky Whereon were spread dawn’s rosy ruffled wings; Till, last, her idle gaze fell on the line Sundering sky and ocean, What was that Which marr’d the perfect globing of the curve Hard by the purple rock? Her dreamy mind Sprang into vigilant life. She saw the fleck How it grew greater, greater,—nay, became No longer one, but manifold, each part Instantly limn’d more clear, more dark, upon The brightening sky—till suddenly there shot Out of the midst a fairy white-wing’d bird, That flew and floated o’er the gentle sea Right towards the palace-stairway; but the rest Went sweeping onwards, up the wide-mouth’d bay; And then Nereia saw that they were ships, Tall and full-sail’d, that, moving stately on, Sought room to ride within the harbour, where Was water deep eno’ for such great keels. ​But the white bird flew swiftly o’er the sea Even to the palace steps. Full near it came, And lo! it was a pinnace that she saw, With pearly sails, and with a well-carv’d prow That bore the semblance of a maiden’s face. Then up she sprang, and stretch’d her fair arms wide In joyful expectation, all untouch’d By shadow of fear; Nereia knew not fear; And in her rapture cried aloud, and woke The sleeping maids and children at her feet, Crying with joy, “O Love! My Love!” No less The new-born waves, delighting in the voice That was their sister’s, raced each other swift Back from the shore to the fair-carven prow, Chiming in crystal choruses her words Clearly; and there was one who heeded them.
But when the boat sped nearer, and the sand Grew silvery ’neath the shallowing blue waves, ​One leapt into the water, and came, tall And radiant, wading knee-deep, to the steps. And she, with wave-like musical motion, pass’d Rapidly down the marble, till she came To the last pavement that the water smooth’d With shimmering light; beyond was nought save sand.
And, as she gain’d the sea, and he the shore, Lo! in triumphant glory burst the sun Out of his rosy palace gates. The sea Grew gold for joy, and golden glow’d the sails, And golden joy sprang in Nereia’s soul. Her face was bent on his, her love’s, her lord’s, His face, whom she would crown with her glad troth. For seeing how the sunbeams on his head Laid their royal diadem of glorious light, And what a dazzling radiance had its home ​In his deep eyes, she doubted not at all, But, “It is thou!” she cried, and eagerly Flung forth her hands, to meet his eager hands Outstretch’d; then rais’d her face, and sang aloud: “O Mother Sea, rejoice, rejoice with me! My Love is come! Cry loud with lisping voice, Ye little waves, “Rejoice!” Because my Love, my Love, my Love is come! O mighty Mother Sea, rejoice with me!
“Thou, Bridegroom Sun, rejoice, rejoice with me! My Love is come! Wake with thy golden glance The ripples’ gladdest dance, Because my Love, my Love, my Love is come! O great and glorious Sun, rejoice with me!”
Soon as she paus’d, he broke free from the spell With which her sudden song had bound him. ​Straight He leapt to land, and clasp’d her as she stood. And she, forgetting all the sun and sea, Saw but his eyes, felt but his kiss, and knew This was indeed her bridegroom. So they met.
But now a babble of voices rose around— The wondering children shouting, and the maids Down the white stairway flocking towards the twain, Tumultuous with joy, to lead them in. So then Nereia took her lover’s hand, And led him to the palace. Very white And snow-white was it, in the morning sun. Only the almond blossom hung her veil, Mazy and delicate, before the gates, And, on the topmost terrace, oranges Leant their gold shadowless discs, full-orb’d and bright, ​’Gainst the blue shadowless sky. And as they went Up the broad steps, link’d hand in hand, the twain Laugh’d, because life was grown so beautiful, But spake not. Then a damsel took her lyre, And sang, more sweet than any bird that sings Within the garden at the dawn of day:
“Sunbeams, sparkling on the sea, Sunbeams on the summer sea, Are sad tears compared with thee, Tears, compared with thee, Love! Also they must die with day, Dull the sea must grow, and grey,— Thou, once born, wilt live for aye, Thou wilt live for aye, Love!
“Fair pink blossoms on the tree, Almond-blossoms on the tree, ​Are sharp thorns compared with thee, Thorns, compared with thee, Love! Also, they must fade away, Not for long the tree is gay— Thou, once born, wilt live for aye, Thou wilt live for aye, Love!”
Thereon, another, at Nereia’s side, Her favourite damsel, took the song and sang:
“Warm blue eyes, blue as the sea, Eyes as living as the sea, Are cold as Death, Love, without thee, Death-cold without thee, Love! Touch them, Love! Ah, golden day! See what these glad sparkles say! Thou, once born, wilt live for aye, Thou wilt live for aye, Love!’
​“Lips like blossoms on the tree, Pink buds on the almond tree, Are mute as Death, Love, without thee, Death-mute without thee, Love! Touch them, Love! Ah, golden day! Hear what these pink petals say! ‘Thou, once born, wilt live for aye, Thou wilt live for aye, Love!’”
Then blithe Nereia turn’d her face, and look’d, Burning with beauty like the glittering sea, Full in her bridegroom’s eyes. He, mute for love, Told her such truth with them that her blest soul Could scarce contain itself. Then sang the maid: “One look—and Love was there to see! One clasp—Love lock’d them tenderly! What’s Life itself, compared with thee, Dear Life, compared with thee, Love?”
​Whereat Nereia’s happy heart burst forth Into the song, and thus she ended it:
“O Life, sweet Life, be glad alway! Our life hath witness’d Love’s birthday, And Love, once born, will live for aye, Yea, thou wilt live for aye, Love!”
And so they pass’d within the palace gates; And all the sky was blue, and the sea blue.