Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/275

ALECTRYON In envy clamoring to the hobbling smith,

Hêphaistos, of the wrong I do his bed."

Thus Arês; and the Thracian boy, well pleased,

Swore to be faithful to his trust, and liege

To her, the perfect queen of light and love.

So saying, they reached the fiery, brazen gates,

Encolumned high by Heaven's artisan,

Hêphaistos, rough, begrimed, and halt of foot,—

Yet unto whom was Aphroditê given

By Zeus, because from his misshapen hands

All shapely things found being; but the gift

Brought him no joyance, nor made pure his fame,

Like those devices which he wrought himself,

Grim, patient, unbeloved.

There passed they in

At portals of the high, celestial House,

And on beyond the starry-golden court,

Through amorous hidden ways, and winding paths

Set round with splendors, to the spangled hall

Of secret audience for noble guests.

Here Charis labored, so Hêphaistos bade,

Moulding the room's adornments; here she built

Low couches, framed in ivory, overlain

With skins of pard and panther, and the fleece

Of sheep which graze the low Hesperian isles;

And in the midst a cedarn table spread,

Whereon the loves of all the elder Gods

Were wrought in gold and silver; and the light

Of quenchless rubies sparkled over all.

Thus far came Arês and Alectryôn,

First leaving shield and falchion at the door,

That naught of violence should haunt that air

Serene, but laughter-loving peace, and joys

The meed of Gods, once given men to know.

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