Tithonus

A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)

So when the verdure of his life was shed,

With all the grace of ripened manlihead,

And on his locks, but now so lovable,

Old age like desolating winter fell,

Leaving them white and flowerless and forlorn:

Then from his bed the Goddess of the Morn

Softly withheld, yet cherished him no less

With pious works of pitying tenderness;

Till when at length with vacant, heedless eyes,

And hoary height bent down none otherwise

Than burdened willows bend beneath their weight

Of snow when winter winds turn temperate, —

So bowed with years — when still he lingered on:

Then to the daughter of Hyperion

This counsel seemed the best: for she, afar

By dove-gray seas under the morning star,

Where, on the wide world’s uttermost extremes,

Her amber-walled, auroral palace gleams,

High in an orient chamber bade prepare

An everlasting couch, and laid him there,

And leaving, closed the shining doors. But he,

Deathless by Jove’s compassionless decree,

Found not, as others find, a dreamless rest.

There wakeful, with half-waking dreams oppressed,

Still in an aural, visionary haze

Float round him vanished forms of happier days;

Still at his side he fancies to behold

The rosy, radiant thing beloved of old;

And oft, as over dewy meads at morn,

Far inland from a sunrise coast is borne

The drowsy, muffled moaning of the sea,

Even so his voice flows on unceasingly, —

Lisping sweet names of passion overblown,

Breaking with dull, persistent undertone

The breathless silence that forever broods

Round those colossal, lustrous solitudes.

Times change. Man’s fortune prospers, or it falls.

Change harbors not in those eternal halls

And tranquil chamber where Tithonus lies.

But through his window there the eastern skies

Fall palely fair to the dim ocean’s end.

There, in blue mist where air and ocean blend,

The lazy clouds that sail the wide world o’er

Falter and turn where they can sail no more.

There singing groves, there spacious gardens blow —

Cedars and silver poplars, row on row,

Through whose black boughs on her appointed night,

Flooding his chamber with enchanted light,

Lifts the full moon’s immeasurable sphere,

Crimson and huge and wonderfully near.

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Poems in English 

• The Gardener XIX: You Walked by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener XIV: I Was Walking by the Road by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener XIII: I Asked Nothing by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener X: Let Your Work Be, Bride by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXIV: Over the Green by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXIII: She Dwelt on the Hillside by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXXI: Why Do You Whisper So Faintly by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXVI: The Fair Was On by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXXV: At Midnight by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXVIII: None Lives For Ever, Brother by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXIX: I Hunt for the Golden Stag by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LXIV: I Spent My Day by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LV: It Was Mid-Day by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LIX: O Woman by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener LI: Then Finish the Last Song by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener IX: When I Go Alone at Night by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Gardener IV: Ah Me by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Further Bank by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The Flower-School by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore
• The First Jasmines by Rabindranath Tagore by Rabindranath Tagore

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