Yon oaken chest,
Carven with figures and embossed with gold,
Is wonderful to look upon!
Carven with figures and embossed with gold,
Is wonderful to look upon!
Longfellow
Ah, I have been waiting long.
PANDORA.
How beautiful is this house! The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
EPIMETHEUS.
They not only seem,
But truly are. This dwelling and its master
Belong to thee.
PANDORA.
Here let me stay forever!
There is a spell upon me.
EPIMETHEUS.
Thou thyself
Art the enchantress, and I feel thy power
Envelop me, and wrap my soul and sense
In an Elysian dream.
PANDORA,
O, let me stay.
How beautiful are all things round about me,
Multiplied by the mirrors on the walls!
What treasures hast thou here!
Yon oaken chest,
Carven with figures and embossed with gold,
Is wonderful to look upon! What choice
And precious things dost thou keep hidden in it?
EPIMETHEUS.
I know not. 'T is a mystery.
PANDORA.
Hast thou never
Lifted the lid?
EPIMETHEUS.
The oracle forbids.
Safely concealed there from all mortal eyes
Forever sleeps the secret of the Gods.
Seek not to know what they have hidden from thee,
Till they themselves reveal it.
PANDORA.
As thou wilt.
EPIMETHEUS.
Let us go forth from this mysterious place.
The garden walks are pleasant at this hour;
The nightingales among the sheltering boughs
Of populous and many-nested trees
Shall teach me how to woo thee, and shall tell me
By what resistless charms or incantations
They won their mates.
PANDORA.
How beautiful is this house! The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort, and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
EPIMETHEUS.
They not only seem,
But truly are. This dwelling and its master
Belong to thee.
PANDORA.
Here let me stay forever!
There is a spell upon me.
EPIMETHEUS.
Thou thyself
Art the enchantress, and I feel thy power
Envelop me, and wrap my soul and sense
In an Elysian dream.
PANDORA,
O, let me stay.
How beautiful are all things round about me,
Multiplied by the mirrors on the walls!
What treasures hast thou here!
Yon oaken chest,
Carven with figures and embossed with gold,
Is wonderful to look upon! What choice
And precious things dost thou keep hidden in it?
EPIMETHEUS.
I know not. 'T is a mystery.
PANDORA.
Hast thou never
Lifted the lid?
EPIMETHEUS.
The oracle forbids.
Safely concealed there from all mortal eyes
Forever sleeps the secret of the Gods.
Seek not to know what they have hidden from thee,
Till they themselves reveal it.
PANDORA.
As thou wilt.
EPIMETHEUS.
Let us go forth from this mysterious place.
The garden walks are pleasant at this hour;
The nightingales among the sheltering boughs
Of populous and many-nested trees
Shall teach me how to woo thee, and shall tell me
By what resistless charms or incantations
They won their mates.