The Poetry Corner

Demeter.

By Madison Julius Cawein

Demeter sad! the wells of sorrow lay Eternal gushing in thy lonely path. Methinks I see her now - an awful shape Tall o'er a dragon team in frenzied search From Argive plains unto the jeweled shores Of the remotest Ind, where Usha's hand Tinged her grief-cloven brow with kindly touch, And Savitar wheeled genial thro' the skies O'er palmy regions of the faneless Brahm. In melancholy search I see her roam O'er the steep peaks of Himalayas keen With the unmellowed frosts of Boreal storms, Then back again with that wild mother woe Writ in the anguished fire of her eyes, - Back where old Atlas groans 'neath weight of worlds, And the Cimmerian twilight glooms the soul. Deep was her sleep in Persia's haunted vales, Where many a languid Philomela moaned The bursting sorrow of a bursting soul. I see her nigh Ionia's swelling seas Cull from the sands a labyrinthine shell, And hark the mystery of its eery voice Float from the hollow windings of its curl, Then cast it far into the weedy sea To view the salt-spray flash, like one soft plume Dropped from the wings of Eros, 'gainst the flame Of Helios' car down-sloping toward his bath. I see her beg a coral flute of red From a tailed Triton; and on Ithakan rocks High seated at the starry death of day, When Selene rose from off her salty couch To smile a glory on her face of sorrow, Pipe forth sad airs that made the Sirens weep In their green caves beneath the sodden sands, And hoar Poseidon clear his wrinkled front And still his surgy clamors to a sigh. This do I see, and more; ah! yes, far more: I see her, 'mid the lonely groves of Crete, The wild hinds fright from the o'ervaulted green Of thickest boscage, tangling their close covert, With horror of her torches and her wail, "Persephone! Persephone!" till the pines Of rugged Dicte shuddered thro' their cones, And Echo shrieked down in her deepest chasms A wild reply unto her wild complaint; As wild as when she voiced those maidens' woe, Athenian tribute to stern Minos, king, When coiling grim the Minotaur they saw Far in his endless labyrinth of stone.