Book II: Hades — Orpheus

He with voice
Sweeter than any mortal melody,
And plaintive as the music that is made
By the AEolian strings, or the sad bird
That sings of summer nights:
"Eurydice,
Dear love, be comforted; not once alone
That which thou mournest is, but day by day
Some lonely soul, which walks apart and feeds
On high hill pastures, far from herds of men,
Comes to the low fat fields, and sunny vales
Joyous with fruits and flowers, and the white arms
Of laughing love; and there awhile he stays
Content, forgetting all the joys he knew,
When first the morning broke upon the hills,
And the keen air breathed from the Eastern gates
Like a pure draught of wine; forgetting all
The strains which float, as from a nearer heaven,
To him who treads at dawn the untrodden snows,
While all the warm world sleeps;--forgetting these
And all things that have been. And if he gain
To raise to his own heights the simpler souls
That dwell upon the plains, the untutored thought,
The museless lives, the unawakened brain
That yet might soar, then is he blest indeed.
But if he fail, then, leaving love behind,
The wider love of the race, the closer love
Of some congenial soul, he turns again
To the old difficult steeps, and there alone
Pines, till the widowed passions of his heart
Tear him and rend his soul, and drive him down
To the low plains he left. And there he dwells,
Missing the heavens, dear, and the white peaks,
And the light air of old; but in their stead
Finding the soft sweet sun of the vale, the clouds
Which veil the skies indeed, but give the rains
That feed the streams of life and make earth green,
And bring at last the harvest. So I walk
In this dim land content with thee, O Love,
Untouched by any yearning of regret
For those old days; nor that the lyre which made
Erewhile such potent music now is dumb;
Nor that the voice that once could move the earth
(Zeus speaking through it), speaks in household words
Of homely love: Love is enough for me
With thee, O dearest; and perchance at last,
Zeus willing, this dumb lyre and whispered voice
Shall wake, by Love inspired, to such clear note
As soars above the stars, and swelling, lifts
Our souls to highest heaven."
Then he stooped,
And, folded in one long embrace, they went
And faded. And I cried, "Oh, strong God, Love,
Mightier than Death and Hell!"