Agamemnon's Tomb

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <h2> AGAMEMNON'S TOMB. </h2> <p> Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death,<br/> And let the sun shine on him as it did<br/> How many thousand years agone! Beneath<br/> This worm-defying, uncorrupted lid,<br/> Behold the young, heroic face, round-eyed,<br/> Of one who in his full-flowered manhood died;<br/> Of nobler frame than creatures of to-day,<br/> Swathed in fine linen cerecloths fold on fold,<br/> With carven weapons wrought of bronze and gold,<br/> Accoutred like a warrior for the fray.<br/></p> <p> We gaze in awe at these huge-modeled limbs,<br/> Shrunk in death's narrow house, but hinting yet<br/> Their ancient majesty; these sightless rims<br/> Whose living eyes the eyes of Helen met;<br/> The speechless lips that ah! what tales might tell<br/> Of earth's morning-tide when gods did dwell<br/> Amidst a generous-fashioned, god-like race,<br/> Who dwarf our puny semblance, and who won<br/> The secret soul of Beauty for their own,<br/> While all our art but crudely apes their grace.<br/></p> <p> We gather all the precious relics up,<br/> The golden buttons chased with wondrous craft,<br/> The sculptured trinkets and the crystal cup,<br/> The sheathed, bronze sword, the knife with brazen haft.<br/> Fain would we wrest with curious eyes from these<br/> Unnumbered long-forgotten histories,<br/> The deeds heroic of this mighty man,<br/> On whom once more the living daylight beams,<br/> To shame our littleness, to mock our dreams,<br/> And the abyss of centuries to span.<br/></p> <p> Yet could we rouse him from his blind repose,<br/> How might we meet his searching questionings,<br/> Concerning all the follies, wrongs, and woes,<br/> Since his great day whom men call King of Kings,<br/> Victorious Agamemnon? How might we<br/> Those large, clear eyes confront, which scornfully<br/> Would view us as a poor, degenerate race,<br/> Base-souled and mean-proportioned? What reply<br/> Give to the beauty-loving Greek's heart-cry,<br/> Seeking his ancient gods in vacant space?<br/></p> <p> What should he find within a world grown cold,<br/> Save doubt and trouble? To his sunny creed<br/> A thousand gloomy, warring sects succeed.<br/> How of the Prince of Peace might he be told,<br/> When over half the world the war-cloud lowers?<br/> How would he mock these faltering hopes of ours,<br/> Who knows the secret now of death and fate!<br/> Humbly we gaze on the colossal frame,<br/> And mutely we accept the mortal shame,<br/> Of men degraded from a high estate.<br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />