  Asklepios! dead son! Asklepios! I was a God. I am a God. I tend Admetos' flocks upon the meek green earth, And sun-fires course in all the veins of me. I watch mild sheep a-browse in tame, sweet pastures Or dipping in quiet waters. Yesterday I blazed the heavenly arc from east to west; Men saw me pinnacled on the crest of noon Crown'd with celestial flame ... Asklepios! To-day the discrown'd gold of my hair is strewn In the green lap of grasses, my bowed brow Leans on the good strong shoulder of the earth Even as a stricken mortal's might, that seeks His comfortable mother in his grief. Earth, earth, what flower from seed wilt thou put forth Fed by the waters of mine eyes, that most Shoot lightnings? dews wrung from the Sun-god's eyes, Divinely wrathful, mortally unhappy! Asklepios! my son! Asklepios! I am a God. Admetos is a King. The God came to the King's doors overnight And knocked and was admitted; and the King Knew me and asked my will. "To be thy servant Throughout a year of days," I answered him. "Phoebus-Apollo, how shall this thing be?" I said: "I slew a smith, a monstrous clod, Not God or mortal, one that had done evil. I am the avenger of evil among the Gods, For this one and for that I have stretched my bow And winged my arrow through the heart of Wrong; But this was evil done unto myself, And Vengeance wore the sleek face of Advantage, Wherefor Zeus robs me of my Godhead, King, And I will be thy shepherd for a year." He stood half wonderstruck, half shamed-protesting, But I bade him bring me out among his flocks And speak no more. "I will have peace," I said. "Fear not, and bid thy people not to fear; For I am worn with too much strife and passion, And no more hurt shall come from that I do. Thou shalt not suffer by this term of service, But see thy lands grow rich and bountiful, And where thou lov'st I'll win thy love for thee, And life shall prosper with thee, "Life is sweet! Make it not too sweet, God, lest when death come It look more bitter than my soul can bear." "Even death, Admetos, I'll delay for thee. Now, peace! I am done with vengeance for a space." Thus I am come again upon the earth Even as a common man ... Asklepios! The people eye me timidly, and dare Not consort with the God they may not worship. Even so it was in those first days of life When I was a boy in Delos with my Mother, And only half aware I was a God. O this unconquerable loneliness That binds the crown of Godhead on our brows! Yet easier the aloofness of the people Than the familiar face of the half-God Pan. I met in the woods the brute-divinity, Who fleered an impudent hoof, a satyr-smile Licking his lips: "What, Helios! is the sun Debased to something lower than the earth? What! are we two, I of the beast's grain, thou The delicate, disdainful spirit of flame, The seed of mischief and the seed of Zeus, Brought equal at the last? Nay, is the beast Sun's master, Helios? Shepherds are my subjects. I do not sway high kingdoms of the air— I drag my hoofs in the clay. I do not fashion Songs for the stars upon a golden lyre— I (as did Marsyas, ha?) scrape out rough tunes On common reeds. I am not beautiful, I have not eyes like June-blue heavens on fire, Nor hair filched from the harvest of the sun, Nor a white matchless shape, supple and swift And strong and splendid. I am an earthy thing, Half goat and half coarse boor, not fit to touch The sun's moon-sister—(yet, who knows? who knows! Let her keep watch on Latmos how she will Above the slumbers of her pretty shepherd!) No, Pan is not as Helios! Helios is A shepherd, sister'd by a shepherd's wanton, And Pan's a King, and shepherds are his subjects!" Zeus, did it feed thy pride on proud Olympos, Did it pleasure thee to hear the brutish God, The disgustful animal we chafe to name A God even as ourselves, thus flout thy son? Asklepios! dead son! Asklepios! Doomed to the solitariness of greatness We watch, we lonely Gods on shrouded heights, The careful, padded steps, the little lives, The little trivial lives of men and women That fear our anger and entreat our favour; And while we are indifferent all is well, And if we rise to hate all is not ill, But when we stoop to meet uplifted eyes Of bright aspiring fools that will not choose To tread life's inconspicuous middle ways— O, when we love we bring our lov'd ones woe I had a son, his name was Phaeton. Could he be of my being and not be proud? He was all inspiration, and he mounted Up to the highest and reached his hands for the sun And shouted: "I will light the fires in heaven!" But he was three-parts man to one-part God, So men and Gods shrugged his brief blaze of glory Into extinction ... Thus I lost my son, Phaeton, killed thro' overmuch ambition. I had a son, his name was Orpheus. Could he be of my being and not love? His love was rooted deeplier than Hell. He said: "I will pluck back my love from Hell Tho' it upheave all Hell in the plucking." When He failed, being one-part man to three-parts God, He chose the swift way to regain his love And died a vile death ... Thus I lost my son, Orpheus, killed thro' too great love and longing. I had a son. He was Asklepios, Could he be of my being and not know? His wisdom girdled life and death in one; Life smiled on him, because he smiled on death And said: "Life is less conquerable than death." He said: "I will reverse the word of death." He said: "I will make the dead to live again." Two days ago Asklepios lived ... The King Of the nether-world, that wears the face of night And hates me, wearing day's face, called on Zeus: "This mortal steals upon my sovereignty, Stands brazen champion for the world of flesh, Determines souls that waver towards the Styx— Worse! hales the souls back from beyond the Styx, Bringing the dead to life. This is more craft, Brother, than we may suffer in a man. Shall he with careless finger sway at will The Balance of Destiny? Avenge me, Zeus!" A Cyclops forged a thunder-bolt for Zeus, And, black-browed, Zeus did launch it ... Thus I l
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