The Hesperides

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson · (no date)
Published 01/07/1880

Hesperus and his daughters three,

Hesperus and his daughters three,

That sing about the golden tree.

Comus.


The Northwind fall'n, in the newstarrèd night

Zidonian Hanno, voyaging beyond

The hoary promontory of Soloë

Past Thymiaterion, in calmèd bays,

Between the southern and the western Horn,

Heard neither warbling of the nightingale,

Nor melody o’ the Lybian lotusflute

Blown seaward from the shore; but from a slope

That ran bloombright into the Atlantic blue,

Beneath a highland leaning down a weight

Of cliffs, and zoned below with cedarshade,

Came voices, like the voices in a dream,

Continuous, till he reached the other sea.


SONG.

I

The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,

Guard it well, guard it warily,

Singing airily,

Standing about the charmèd root.

Round about all is mute,

As the snowfield on the mountain-peaks,

As the sandfield at the mountain-foot.

Crocodiles in briny creeks

Sleep and stir not: all is mute.

If ye sing not, if ye make false measure,

We shall lose eternal pleasure,

Worth eternal want of rest.

Laugh not loudly: watch the treasure

Of the wisdom of the west.

In a corner wisdom whispers. Five and three

(Let it not be preached abroad) make an awful mystery.

For the blossom unto threefold music bloweth;

Evermore it is born anew;

And the sap to threefold music floweth,

From the root

Drawn in the dark,

Up to the fruit,

Creeping under the fragrant bark,

Liquid gold, honeysweet, thro’ and thro’.

Keen-eyed Sisters, singing airily,

Looking warily

Every way,

Guard the apple night and day,

Lest one from the East come and take it away.

II

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, ever and aye,

Looking under silver hair with a silver eye.

Father, twinkle not thy stedfast sight;

Kingdoms lapse, and climates change, and races die;

Honour comes with mystery;

Hoarded wisdom brings delight.

Number, tell them over and number

How many the mystic fruit-tree holds,

Lest the redcombed dragon slumber

Rolled together in purple folds.

Look to him, father, lest he wink, and the golden apple be stol'n away,

For his ancient heart is drunk with overwatchings night and day,

Round about the hallowed fruittree curled—

Sing away, sing aloud and evermore in the wind, without stop,

Lest his scalèd eyelid drop,

For he is older than the world.

If he waken, we waken,

Rapidly levelling eager eyes.

If he sleep, we sleep,

Dropping the eyelid over the eyes.

If the golden apple be taken

The world will be overwise.

Five links, a golden chain, are we,

Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,

Bound about the golden tree.

III

Father Hesper, Father Hesper, watch, watch, night and day,

Lest the old wound of the world be healèd,

The glory unsealèd,

The golden apple stol'n away,

And the ancient secret revealèd.

Look from west to east along:

Father, old Himla weakens, Caucasus is bold and strong.

Wandering waters unto wandering waters call;

Let them clash together, foam and fall.

Out of watchings, out of wiles,

Comes the bliss of secret smiles.

All things are not told to all,

Half-round the mantling night is drawn,

Purplefringed with even and dawn.

Hesper hateth Phosphor, evening hateth morn.

IV

Every flower and every fruit the redolent breath

Of this warm seawind ripeneth,

Arching the billow in his sleep;

But the land-wind wandereth,

Broken by the highland-steep,

Two streams upon the violet deep:

For the western sun and the western star,

And the low west wind, breathing afar,

The end of day and beginning of night

Make the apple holy and bright;

Holy and bright, round and full, bright and blest,

Mellowed in a land of rest;

Watch it warily day and night;

All good things are in the west,

Till midnoon the cool east light

Is shut out by the round of the tall hillbrow;

But when the fullfaced sunset yellowly

Stays on the flowering arch of the bough,

The luscious fruitage clustereth mellowly,

Goldenkernelled, goldencored,

Sunset ripened above on the tree.

The world is wasted with fire and sword,

But the apple of gold hangs over the sea.

Five links, a golden chain, are we,

Hesper, the dragon, and sisters three,

Daughters three,

Bound about

All round about

The gnarlèd bole of the charmèd tree.

The golden apple, the golden apple, the hallowed fruit,

Guard it well, guard it warily,

Watch it warily,

Singing airily,

Standing about the charmèd root.

#alfred lord tennyson #golden apple #guardianship #mythology

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