{"product_id":"2940149108589","title":"Poems","description":"THESEUS AND HIPPOLYTA\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTO J. G. FAIRFAX\u003cbr\u003eNoon smote down on the field,\u003cbr\u003eBurning on spears and helms,\u003cbr\u003eShining from Theseus' shield.\u003cbr\u003eAs a wave of the sea that whelms\u003cbr\u003eA rock, and its crest uprears,\u003cbr\u003eThrough the wreck of the trampled wheat\u003cbr\u003eThe charge of the charioteers\u003cbr\u003eThundering broke. A sleet\u003cbr\u003eVeiled light, and the air was alive,\u003cbr\u003eAs with hissing of snakes, as with swarms\u003cbr\u003eOf the Spring by a populous hive,\u003cbr\u003eAs with wind, and the clamour of storms:\u003cbr\u003eSo hurtled the arrowy hail\u003cbr\u003eLoosed from the Amazon ranks,\u003cbr\u003eSmote ringing on brazen mail,\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 2]\u003cbr\u003eStruck fanged through the shuddering flanks\u003cbr\u003eOf the stallions; and half were hurled\u003cbr\u003eIn the dust, and broken, and brayed\u003cbr\u003eBy the chariots over them whirled,\u003cbr\u003eWhich, eager and undismayed,\u003cbr\u003eSwept ruining on to the hordes\u003cbr\u003eOf the Amazonian camp,\u003cbr\u003eWith the lightning of terrible swords;\u003cbr\u003eTill the dead were heaped, as a ramp\u003cbr\u003eFor the quick. But the chariots shocked\u003cbr\u003eOn the thicket of close-set spears;\u003cbr\u003eAnd the long ranks reeled, and rocked,\u003cbr\u003eBroke; and the charioteers\u003cbr\u003eWent through them, cleaving as ploughs\u003cbr\u003eCleave earth: they were rent, and tossed\u003cbr\u003eWith the tumult of tortured boughs.\u003cbr\u003eAnd the stallions, with foam embossed,\u003cbr\u003eFought, tearing each other with teeth,\u003cbr\u003eIn the red, blind rage of their lust,\u003cbr\u003eScreaming; and writhed underneath\u003cbr\u003eThe wounded, trodden as must\u003cbr\u003eOf the grapes trodden out in the press,\u003cbr\u003eEmpurpling the knees, and bare\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 3]\u003cbr\u003eThighs of the men. Through the stress\u003cbr\u003eOf their shoulders drove as a share,\u003cbr\u003eHippolyta. Avenging she came;\u003cbr\u003eAnd they streamed, and they surged round her car,\u003cbr\u003eThe women: her face was a flame\u003cbr\u003eAs she rode through the tempest of war;\u003cbr\u003eAnd they cried, made glad with the sight,\u003cbr\u003eAs those desiring the dawn,\u003cbr\u003eWhen the darkness is cloven by light,\u003cbr\u003eCry for gladness: they rallied, upborne,\u003cbr\u003eWhen she rayed as the sun through their cloud.\u003cbr\u003eBut she strung the bow, and she prayed\u003cbr\u003eUnto Artemis, calling aloud,\u003cbr\u003eAs a maid might call to a maid;\u003cbr\u003eAnd the Goddess of shining brows\u003cbr\u003eHeard, as she paused from the chace\u003cbr\u003eUpon Tainaros hoary with snows;\u003cbr\u003eAnd a shadow darkened her face:\u003cbr\u003eA shadow, and then a ray\u003cbr\u003eLightening, glorying, smiled,\u003cbr\u003eAs her thought pierced years to a day\u003cbr\u003eUnborn, and an unborn child,\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 4]\u003cbr\u003eWith the pure fount of his praise\u003cbr\u003eLifted to her, from the shrine\u003cbr\u003eRock-hewn, at the three cross-ways\u003cbr\u003eIn a waste of hills, as wine\u003cbr\u003eGladdening her; and she shed\u003cbr\u003eA wonder, a terror, a fear,\u003cbr\u003eA beauty that filled with dread,\u003cbr\u003eA glory no eyes might bear\u003cbr\u003eOn her maid; stooped, hushed, from the height\u003cbr\u003eHer thought, as a bird on the wing,\u003cbr\u003eRained down from her, swifter than light.\u003cbr\u003eHippolyta notched on the string\u003cbr\u003eAn arrow, and loosed it, and smote,\u003cbr\u003eAs he drove at her car with a jest,\u003cbr\u003eAgelaus, cleaving his throat\u003cbr\u003eSpeechless; and smote through the breast\u003cbr\u003ePolytherses; and Euenor then\u003cbr\u003eFelt the teeth of the flints at his veins,\u003cbr\u003eAs his mares dragged him back to his men\u003cbr\u003eAll bloody, entangled in reins;\u003cbr\u003eThen Damastor she smote: and they fled\u003cbr\u003eAs doves or as linnets fly\u003cbr\u003eWhen a hawk that has towered overhead\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 5]\u003cbr\u003eStoops, ravening, out of the sky\u003cbr\u003eOn their quires. But her arrows sighed\u003cbr\u003eAfter them, swifter than feet:\u003cbr\u003eThey ran, shrieked, stumbled, and died,\u003cbr\u003eShot through with her shafts. In the wheat,\u003cbr\u003eWith the sunlight gilding their greaves,\u003cbr\u003eHelmets, and shields, and mail,\u003cbr\u003eThey lay, strewn thickly as leaves\u003cbr\u003eWhen Autumn has swung his flail.\u003cbr\u003eBut afar, where Thermodon rolled\u003cbr\u003eThe deep, swift strength of its flood\u003cbr\u003eTo the ocean turbidly gold,\u003cbr\u003eDrave Theseus, eager for blood;\u003cbr\u003eAnd as herds stampede in affright\u003cbr\u003eAt the reek of the beast in the air\u003cbr\u003ePrecipitately through the night\u003cbr\u003eWhen a lion forth comes from his lair,\u003cbr\u003eSo the women before him fled\u003cbr\u003eIn a rout, headlong, overborne,\u003cbr\u003eFor he drave as a beast all red,\u003cbr\u003eWith the blood of the prey he had torn,\u003cbr\u003eCircled them round; they were rent,\u003cbr\u003eWhirled under him, flung from him, far\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 6]\u003cbr\u003eSeaward, and lost; until spent,\u003cbr\u003eHeaped in a mound by her car\u003cbr\u003eBroken, and dying, and dead,\u003cbr\u003eHippolyta saw. And she fled.\u003cbr\u003eTheseus followed. Afar,\u003cbr\u003eOver the storm of the spears,\u003cbr\u003eHe had seen her face as a star\u003cbr\u003eShine; and no tremble of tears\u003cbr\u003eSoftened her terrible eyes,\u003cbr\u003eCruel they shone there, and blue\u003cbr\u003eWith the beauty of windless skies.\u003cbr\u003eBut her bowstring ever she drew,\u003cbr\u003eLoosening arrows that sang\u003cbr\u003eThrough the air exulting as wind;\u003cbr\u003eAnd the clamour of battle rang\u003cbr\u003eMost by her car, while behind\u003cbr\u003eThe fierce, wild women upheld\u003cbr\u003eTheir queen, and their anger burned\u003cbr\u003eIn staring eyeballs. She felled\u003cbr\u003eA man as her car overturned,\u003cbr\u003eSped onward, her swift white feet\u003cbr\u003eThe dead and the dying spurned\u003cbr\u003e[Pg 7]\u003cbr\u003e","brand":"Lost Leaf Publications","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47179628642544,"sku":"2940149108589","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940149108589_p0.jpg?v=1763712584","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940149108589","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}