"My knights and my squires! come, who will dare
To dive for this golden cup,
Down that steep abyss, when I hurl it there,
In its pitchy mouth 'twill be soon gulped up;
Who back shall return with this goblet thrown,
Shall win the prize - he shall make it his own."
The monarch spoke, and hurl'd from the steep,
Bare and bluff, that towering up,
Hung out far above the unending deep,
To the howling Charybdis the cup;
"Who so bold of heart, I question again,
To cleave the far depths of that yawning main?"
And the knights and the squires around that stood,
In speechless panic look'd on,
Gazed from above on the raging flood,
But the goblet to win dared never a one;
And once more asked the king, "Of heart so stout,
Who will venture to plunge in that water-spout?"
And terror-struck all, as erst did stand,
Till a stripling, with noble pride,
Stept forth where the squires formed a wav'ring band,
Ungirds his belt, throws his doublet aside,
And dames, knights, and squires, bewildered, gaze
On that desperate youth, in breathless amaze.
And as he walked to the hanging rock,
And gazed on the whirlpool hoar,
The water beneath that wound and broke,
The Charybdis drove back with a sullen roar,
And then with the voice of far-off thunder,
It rush'd, foaming, splashing, and dashing under.
And it boil'd and it bubbled, it roar'd and it hiss'd,
As mingle water and flame,
And shoots up to heaven the vap'rous mist,
And flood throngs on flood, none knew whence they came,
Tho' endless they seem, exhaustless to be,
As though every sea engendered a sea.
But allayed at length is the billowy spasm,
And where froths the subsiding swell,
Is cleft a black and a gaping chasm,
Groundless, might lead to the void of hell,
And the jagged billows, whirl'd round and round,
In the eddying vortex are s**'d and drown'd.
Ere came back the breaker the gulf to close,
He to God commends his soul,
When the circle round, a long, loud shriek arose,
For quick to o'erwhelm, the vexed whirlpool,
Mysterious and dark as Destiny's laws,
On the bold swimmer closes its vengeful jaws.
And whilst on the gorge a black stillness hung,
Hoarse roared from beneath the yell,
And these words quivering ran from tongue to tongue,
"Thou brave-hearted stripling, fare thee well!"
Whilst hollower and hollower yet grew the howl,
And as linger its echoes, more harrows the soul.
In that dark night of waves had'st thou hurled e'en the crown
And said, "Who the crown shall bring,
That precious prize he shall make his own"
Who would yearn at so dear a rate to be king -
What those billowy depths in their bosom conceal
Could happy be no living soul, and reveal.
Full many a bark in that watery hell
Has shot down to a gaping tomb,
Long, with shattered and creaking mast and keel,
It wrestled and writh'd with its coming doom,
Whilst loud and more loud, like a hurricane's crash,
Was the roar of the pool, as its vex't breakers flash.
And it boil'd and it bubbled, it roared, and it hissed,
As when fire and water blend,
And shoots up to heaven the vaporous mist,
And surges on surges throng without end,
And abyss replies to abyss from under,
As with peal upon peal of far-off thunder.
And lo! from that black and billowy bier,
Lifts itself something swan-white,
And an arm and a glittering neck appear,
And he buffets the waves with desperate might;
He it is! see him there! what is that he holds up,
And swings with a gesture of joy? - the cup!
And deeply he gasps, and hard comes his breath,
And he welcomes heaven's light with glad eyes
"He lives! - he is there! - he is sav'd from d**h!"
Said one to another, with rapturous cries.
"From the whirl of the pool, the jaws of the grave,
He is rescued - is saved - the Diver, the brave!"
And he comes, they surround him with one jubilee,
At the monarch's feet see him lie;
He outstretches the cup on bended knee,
And the king caught his lovely daughter's eye.
And she fills the goblet with wine to the brim,
Turns the youth to the king, and thus drinks to him: -
"Long life to the king, in the roseate light
Of heaven, may he bask and thrive;
That world below is a world of affright,
And to tempt high heaven is for none alive.
Let no woman-born ever covet a sight,
Which the merciful gods shroud in horror and night.
"Down, down with the speed of the lightning's gleam,
I was shot through a bed of rocks,
When there ravingly met me a double stream,
And they gripe me and tear me with warring shocks;
And lashed like a top in the fierce eddy's roar,
I dizzily spin round and round; can no more -
"Then my soul, in its utmost need, I lift
To God, pray with gasping breath.
He heard me - and showed me a rocky rift,
And I clung to the crag, and escaped from d**h;
And there on the sharp coral hung the cup,
Which the bottomless pit had else swallow'd up.
"Under my feet a precipice deep
Lay of darkness, purple and clear -
And though all was hush'd in horrible sleep
My soul yet recoils, my flesh creeps with fear,
As the dragons and crocodiles writhed and coiled,
And the hellish cauldron bubbled and boiled.
"And in mixture dire, there all horrible forms
Were uprolled in a loathsome ball -
The dog-fish, the ray, the torpedo, and swarms
Of nameless monsters that cling and crawl,
And there grinds his teeth, and flash through the dark,
The eyes of that sea-hyæna, the shark.
"There I hung, and I clung, with a void, aching breast,
Yet was conscious, nevertheless,
As one by a frightful nightmare opprest -
All succour afar, of my own loneliness -
Men's voices above - I deep under the sea -
With monsters - a grim ghastly company.
"With shuddering I thought, there they rav'ning advance,
Like an endlessly linked chain,
To snap me and tear, in my terror's trance,
I the coral unclasp'd from my arm's strong strain,
Then seized me the whirlpool with deaf'ning roar,
'Twas my saviour - it shot me on high to the shore."
With pleasing wonder had listened the king,
And said - "The goblet is thine,
And yet one prize more shalt thou have, this ring,
Bedecked with the costliest gems of the mine,
If thou seekest, and back bring'st the news to me,
Of all in the undermost deep, deep sea."
Heard the daughter with tender pity, and said,
Whilst a smile contends with a tear -
"Hold, sire! be your terrible game no more played,
He has borne what beside none ventured to bear,
And if still be unsated the wish of your heart,
Let the knights shame the squires, in the sport take their part."
Then the king seized the cup, and quick to the main
Hurls it down - it falls gulphed in the sea:
"And bring'st thou the goblet to me once again -
The dearest and best of my knights thou shalt be,
And this very day as a bride clasp the maid -
Who for thee has with tenderest sympathy pray'd."
Then emboldened his spirit with heaven's own might,
Its lightnings flashed out of his eyes -
And her face is illumed with an inward light,
Now pale as a corpse on the ground she lies.
The costliest of prizes to win - he beneath
Plunges boldly, down, down, for life or for d**h.
They list to the whirlpool, and hark! where it broke -
'Tis announced by a thundering roar -
And one looks down with longing look -
Come the breakers - they come one and all, dark and hoar,
Downward and upward they rush, rage, and rave,
But none brought the Diver back on its wave.