Page:Von Heidenstam - Sweden's laureate, selected poems of Verner von Heidenstam (1919).djvu/82

NAMELESS AND IMMORTAL

Finished, in Pæstum's rose-embowering garden,
Stood Neptune's temple, and the man who planned
Sat near. His young wife, on his shoulder leaning,
Spun with the yellow distaff in her hand.
She listened to the piping of the herdsmen
Who tended on the hills their droves of swine,
And with an almost childish joy she murmured,
Twisting the flax about her fingers fine:
"My cup of happiness is filled to brimming.
The man who brings me home to Naxos' strand,
Now he has built yon glorious Neptune temple,
Returns, immortal, to his native land."

Then solemnly her husband answered her:
"No, when we die, our name will pass away
A few years after, but yon temple there
Will still be standing as it stands to-day.
Think you an artist in his time of power
Sees in the background multitudes that shout?
Nay, inward, only inward, turns his eye,
And he knows nothing of the world without.
'Tis therefore that the bard would weep hot blood
If he deliver not his pregnant soul;
But he would kiss each line wherein he sees
His spirit live again, true-born and whole.
'Tis in such lines as these he lives and moves.
He strives for immortality—but mark!
'Tis for his writings, never for himself;