Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE MASQUE OF PANDORA: 1. THE WORKSHOP OF HEPHAESTUS, by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Not fashioned out of gold, like hera's throne Last Line: Thou henceforth shalt bear. Subject(s): Holidays; Trees | ||||||||
HEPHAESTUS, standing before the statue of Pandora. Not fashioned out of gold, like Hera's throne, Nor forged of iron like the thunderbolts Of Zeus omnipotent, or other works Wrought by my hands at Lemnos or Olympus, But moulded in soft clay, that unresisting Yields itself to the touch, this lovely form Before me stands, perfect in every part. Not Aphrodite's self appeared more fair, When first upwafted by caressing winds She came to high Olympus, and the gods Paid homage to her beauty. Thus her hair Was cinctured; thus her floating drapery Was like a cloud about her, and her face Was radiant with the sunshine and the sea. THE VOICE OF ZEUS. Is thy work done, Hephaestus? HEPHAESTUS. It is finished! THE VOICE. Not finished till I breathe the breath of life Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks. HEPHAESTUS. Will she become immortal like ourselves? THE VOICE. The form that thou hast fashioned out of clay Is of the earth and mortal; but the spirit, The life, the exhalation of my breath, Is of diviner essence and immortal. The gods shall shower on her their benefactions, She shall possess all gifts: the gift of song, The gift of eloquence, the gift of beauty, The fascination and the nameless charm That shall lead all men captive. HEPHAESTUS. Wherefore? wherefore? A wind shakes the house. I hear the rushing of a mighty wind Through all the halls and chambers of my house! Her parted lips inhale it, and her bosom Heaves with the inspiration. As a reed Beside a river in the rippling current Bends to and fro, she bows or lifts her head. She gazes round about as if amazed; She is alive; she breathes, but yet she speaks not! PANDORA descends from the pedestal. CHORUS OF THE GRACES AGLAIA. In the workshop of Hephaestus What is this I see? Have the Gods to four increased us Who were only three? Beautiful in form and feature, Lovely as the day, Can there be so fair a creature Formed of common clay? THALIA. O sweet, pale face! O lovely eyes of azure, Clear as the waters of a brook that run Limpid and laughing in the summer sun! O golden hair that like a miser's treasure In its abundance overflows the measure! O graceful form, that cloudlike floatest on With the soft, undulating gait of one Who moveth as if motion were a pleasure! By what name shall I call thee? Nymph or Muse, Callirrhoe or Urania? Some sweet name Whose every syllable is a caress Would best befit thee; but I cannot choose, Nor do I care to choose; for still the same, Nameless or named, will be thy loveliness. EUPHROSYNE. Dowered with all celestial gifts, Skilled in every art That ennobles and uplifts And delights the heart, Fair on earth shall be thy fame As thy face is fair, And Pandora be the name Thou henceforth shalt bear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PROBLEM OF DESCRIBING TREES by ROBERT HASS THE GREEN CHRIST by ANDREW HUDGINS MIDNIGHT EDEN by JOSEPHINE JACOBSEN REFLECTION OF THE WOOD by LEONIE ADAMS THE LIFE OF TREES by DORIANNE LAUX A BALLAD OF THE FRENCH FLEET; OCTOBER, 1746 by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW |
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