Grief was born, and the kinless night,
Mother of gods without form or name.
And light is born out of heaven and dies,
And one day knows not another's light,
But night is one, and her shape the same.
But dumb the goddesses underground
Wait, and we hear not on earth if their feet
Rise, and the night wax loud with their wings;
Dumb, without word or shadow of sound;
And sift in scales and winnow as wheat
Men's souls, and sorrow of manifold things.
III.
Nor less of grief than ours
The gods wrought long ago
To bruise men one by one;
But with the incessant hours
Fresh grief and greener woe
Spring, as the sudden sun
Year after year makes flowers;
And these die down and grow,
And the next year lacks none.
As these men sleep, have slept
The old heroes in time fled,
No dream-divided sleep;
And holier eyes have wept
Than ours, when on her dead
Gods have seen Thetis weep,
With heavenly hair far-swept
Back, heavenly hands outspread
Round what she could not keep,
Could not one day withhold,
One night; and like as these
White ashes of no weight,
Held not his urn the cold
Ashes of Heracles?
For all things born one gate
Opens, no gate of gold;
Opens; and no man sees
Beyond the gods and fate.
APPENDIX II
SIR RICHARD FRANCIS BURTON (1821–1890)
The year 1863 started well for Burton-he was at last able to enjoy a honeymoon with Isabel, a full year after they were married. Unfortunately, he then had to return to his consulate duties on the disease-ridden West African island of Fernando Po. He made various forays onto the mainland but was not much impressed by the slavery-ravaged tribal kingdoms he found there.
In August of 1864, he returned to England. Fourteen months earlier, John Hanning Speke and James Grant had come back in triumph from their expedition to find the source of the Nile. Now Burton and his former partner engaged in an unpleasant duel, and much was done to besmirch Burton's reputation. The conflict reached its climax in September, when, the day before they were scheduled to confront each another at a debate in the city of Bath, Speke died. He had shot himself in the left side of his body while out hunting. There is no clear evidence whether this was suicide or a tragic accident. Biographers generally agree that, preoccupied with the forthcoming debate, Speke was uncharacteristically careless with his weapon and probably discharged it by accident while climbing over a wall.
Burton appears to have gone off the rails for a time after this incident. Given the consulship of Brazil, he went to South America and, unlike all his other excursions, did not keep a journal or account of his travels. Witnesses, such as Wilfred Scawen Blunt, recalled that he was drinking heavily for much of the time. While in Buenos Aires, Burton fell in with a rather unscrupulous character-a fat man named Arthur Orton, who was passing himself off as Sir Roger Tichborne.
“I ask myself ‘Why?’ and the only echo is ‘damned fool!..the Devil drives.’”
— From a letter to Richard Monckton Milnes, 31st May, 1863
“And still the Weaver plies his loom, whose warp and woof is wretched Man. Weaving th’ unpattern'd dark design, so dark we doubt it owns a plan.”
— From The Kasidah of Haji Abdu El-Yezdi, 1870
“Zanzibar city, to become picturesque or pleasing, must be viewed, like Stanbul, from afar.”
— From Zanzibar, City, Island, and Coast, 1872
ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE (1837–1909)
Swinburne travelled widely in 1863, visiting Paris, Genoa, and Florence, and enjoyed perhaps his most productive period, writing many of his most celebrated poems.
“Here life has death for neighbour…”
— From “The Garden of Proserpine”
“The dense hard passage is blind and stifled…”
— From “A Forsaken Garden”
“One, who is not, we see; but one, whom we see not, is…”
– “The Higher Pantheism in a Nutshell” (complete poem quoted)
“A wider soul than the world was wide…”
— From “On the Death of Richard Burton”
HERBERT SPENCER (1820–1903)
In 1863, Spencer, having published the year before his First Principles of a New System of Philosophy, was rapidly emerging as one of the greatest ever English philosophers.
An extreme hypochondriac, he also had little patience for the excesses of Victorian attire, and preferred to wear a one-piece brown suit of his own design. Apparently, it made him look like a bear.
He said:
“Time is that which a man is always trying to kill, but which ends in killing him.”
GEORGE HERBERT WELLS (1866–1946)
By 1914, H. G. Wells was an established and popular author, a pioneer of science fiction.
“A time will come when a politician who has wilfully made war and promoted international dissension will be as sure of the dock and much surer of the noose than a private homicide. It is not reasonable that those who gamble with men's lives should not stake their own.”
“We were making the future, he said, and hardly any of us troubled to think what future we were making. And here it is!”
“Our true nationality is mankind.”
“I hope, or I could not live.”
RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (1809–1885)
In 1863, Monckton Milnes was raised to the peerage, becoming the 1st Baron Houghton.
HENRY JOHN TEMPLE, 3RD VISCOUNT PALMERSTON (1784–1865)
1863, for Palmerston, marked the middle of his final term as British prime minister. Nicknamed “Lord Cupid” on account of his youthful appearance and rumoured affairs, he was a popular and capable leader.
WILLIAM SAMUEL HENSON (1812–1888)
A very industrious inventor, Henson is best known as an early pioneer in aviation. He created a lightweight steam engine that he hoped would power a passenger-carrying monoplane, the “Henson Aerial Steam Carriage,” but was never able to perfect the design. He also invented the modern safety razor.
FRANCIS HERBERT WENHAM (1824–1908)
A British marine engineer, Wenham came to prominence in 1866 when he introduced the idea of superposed wings at the first meeting of the Royal Aeronautical Society in London. His concept became the basis for the design of the early biplanes, triplanes, and multiplanes that attempted flight, with varying degrees of success. Wenham is possibly the first man to have employed the term “aeroplane.”
OSCAR WILDE (1854–1900)
In 1863, aged nine, Wilde started his formal education at Portora Royal School in Enniskillen, County Fermanagh.
“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.”
“I can believe anything provided it is incredible.”
“Experience is one thing you can't get for nothing.”
“The tragedy of old age is not that one is old, but that one is young.”
“To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.”
“As long as war is regarded as wicked, it will always have its fascination. When it is looked upon as vulgar, it will cease to be popular.”
“Popularity is the one insult I have never suffered.”
“Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives.”