Clarel — Part 3 — Canto 20

"Seedsmen of old Saturn's land,Love and peace went hand in hand,And sowed the Era Golden!

"Golden time for man and mead:Title none, nor title-deed, 5Nor any slave, nor Soldan.

"Venus burned both large and bright,Honey-moon from night to night,Nor bride, nor groom waxed olden.

"Big the tears, but ruddy ones, 10Crushed from grapes in vats and tunsOf vineyards green and golden!

"Sweet to sour did never sue,None repented ardor true--Those years did so embolden. 15

"Glum Don Graveairs slunk in den:Frankly roved the gods with menIn gracious talk and golden.

"Thrill it, cymbals of my rhyme,Power was love, and love in prime, 20Nor revel to toil beholden.

"Back, come back, good age, and reign,Goodly age, and long remain--Saturnian Age, the Golden!"

The masquer gone, by stairs that climb, 25

In seemly sort, the friars withdrew;And, waiting that, the Islesman threwHis couplets of the Arcadian time,Then turning on the pilgrims: "Hoo!

"The bird of Paradise don't like owls: 30A handful of acorns after the cowls!"

But Clarel, bantered by the song,Sad questioned, if in frames of thoughtAnd feeling, there be right and wrong;Whether the lessonJoel taught 35Confute what from the marble's caughtIn sylvan sculpture--Bacchant, Faun,Or shapes more lax by Titian drawn.Such counter natures in mankind--Mole, bird, not more unlike we find: 40Instincts adverse, nor less how trueEach to itself. What clew, what clew?