The Portland daily press., 1876-01-21
POETRY.
Erectheus.
A GREEK PLAY By MIR. swINBURNE.

The London correspondent of the New York
Herald recently gave the substance of Mr.
Swinburne's new poem, 'tErectheus," written
after the model of Greek play. Erectheus,
King of Athens. is at war with Eleusis, and is
told by the gods that he may save his city by
sacrificing his daughters life. The girls
mother tells her the will of the gods, and she
replies:
That may give this poor girls blood OF mine,
scarce yet sun warmed with summer-this thin life,
10 build again my city; that no drop
Fallen OF these innocent veins on the cold ground
But shall help knit the joints of her firm wallis
10 knead the stones together, and make sure
The band about their maided girdlestead
Once fastened, and Of all mems violent hands
lnviolable forever; these to me
Were but such gifts as crave no Thanksgiving,
II with one blow dividing the sheer life
might make end, and one pang wind up all
And seal mine eyes from sorrow; for such end
The gods give none they love not; but my heart,
That leaps up lightened of all sloth or fear
10 take the swords point, yet with one thoughts
Flags and falls back, broken of wing, that halts
Manned In mid-fight for thy sake, and borne down
Mother, that in the places where played,
An arms length from thy bosom and no more,
Shalt find me never.
Thou brought'st me forth, saviour who shall save
Athensi for none but 1, from none but thee,
Shall take this death for garland.
Chthonia's death is followed by that of her
two sisters; for we are told that they whether
mad from grief and sore love for their sister
Or with the shame soul stung
10 outlive her dead, doubt lest their lives too.
Tne gods require to seal their country safe,
And bring the oracular doom to perfect end
Have slam themselves and fallen at the altar foot
Lie by their own hands done TO death; and fear
Shakes all the city, as winds a winterfng tree,
And as dead leaves, are mems hearts blown about
And shrunken with ill thoughts and fowerless hopes,
II N witt anQ laCff fh0 r,ifn hlnnd
Shed OF the maidens guiltless, tall and fix
On this lands forehead like curse that cleaves
Whom his own crime tracks hotlier than hound
10 life's veiled end unsleeping; and this hour
Now blackens toward the battle that must close
All gates of hope and fear on all their hearts
Who tremble toward its issue, knowing not yet
IL blood may buy them surety, cleanse, or soil
Inc helpless hands men raise and reach no stay.
The description of battle in this poem is
especially forcible:
For now not in word but in Decd is the harvest of
And its camor outbellows tho thunder its lightning
outlightens the sun.
From the springs oi the morning it thunders and
hghtens across and afar
Tothe wave where the moonset ends and the pail of
the last low star;
With tramping of drenched red hoofs and an earth
quake Of men that meet,
Strong war sets hand to the scythe and the burrows
take fire from his feet.
Earth groans from her great rent heart and the hol
lows of rocks are afraid,
Aud the mountains are moved, and the valleys are
waves in storm-wind swayed,
From the roots of the hills to the plains dim verge
and the dark lone shore,
Air shudders with shri spears crossing and hurting
Of wheels that roar.
AS the grinding of teeth in the jaws of the lion that
foam as they gnash
Is tho shrek of the axes that loosen the shock of the
poles that crash.
The dense names darken and glitter, the mouths of
the mad Steeds champ,
Their heads flash blind throlgh the hattie and DEATHS
foot rings in their tramp,
For fourfold host npon earth and in Heaven is
Clouds rising in thunder and armies encountering as
clouds in the night.
Mine ears are amazed with the terror of trumpets,
with darkness mine eyes,
at the sound of the seas host charging that deafens
the roar of the skies.
White trontlet is dashed upon frontlet and horse
against horse reels, hurled,
And the gorge of the gups Of the battle is wide for
the spoil of the world.
And the meadows are numbered with shipwreck of
chariots that founder on land.
And the horsemen are broken with breach as Of
breakers and scattered as sand.
Through the roar and reco of the chargers that min
gle their cries and confound,
like IRE are the notes of the trHmpetS that flash
through the darkness of sound;
As the wing of the sea, churned yellow, that sways
with the wind as it swells,
Is the lift and relapse Of the wave Of the chargers
that clash with their bells;
And the clang of the sharp shril brass through the
burst of the wave as it shocks,
Rings clear as the clear winds cry through the roar
of the surge on the rocks;
And the heads Of the steeds in their headgear of war
and their corsleted breasts,
CLEAN broad as the hrows of the pillows that bright
en- the storm with their crests-
CLEAN dread their bosoms that heave to the ship
wrecklng wind as they rise
Filled full of the terrors and thunder Of water that
Stays as it dies
So dire is the glare their foreheads so fearful the
fire of their breath;
And the light of their eyeballs enkindled SO bright
with the hghtnings of death:
And the foam 0t their mouths the sea when the
jaws of its gulf are graves;
And the ridge of their necks the Wind-shaken
name on the ridges of waves;
And their feocks attire as they rear, drip thick with
dewfall of blood
As the lips of the rearing breaker with roth of the
man Staying flood.
And the whole plain reels and resounds, as the fields
of the sea by night,
When the stroke of the wind falls darkling, and
death is the seafarer's light "