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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Lover's Litanies, by Eric Mackay
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: A Lover's Litanies
+
+Author: Eric Mackay
+
+Release Date: February 3, 2009 [EBook #27971]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A LOVER'S LITANIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, David T. Jones and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at
+http://www.pgdpcanada.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A
+Lover's Litanies
+
+_BY_
+
+Eric Mackay
+
+
+
+
+A
+Lover's Litanies
+
+_BY_
+
+Eric Mackay
+
+_Author of "Love Letters of a Violinist," and
+"Gladys the Singer."_
+
+
+
+1888.
+
+_LONDON:_
+
+_Field & Tuer, The Leadenhall Press, E.C.
+Simpkin, Marshall & Co.; Hamilton, Adams & Co._
+
+_New York: Scribner & Welford, 743 & 745, Broadway._
+
+
+
+[Illustration: logo]
+
+THE LEADENHALL PRESS,
+LONDON, E.C.
+
+T 4,258.
+
+
+[Illustration: Ave Maria!]
+
+
+
+
+Contents.
+
+                                      PAGE
+
+First Litany--Virgo Dulcis              11
+
+Second Litany--Vox Amoris               25
+
+Third Litany--Ad Te Clamavi             39
+
+Fourth Litany--Gratia Plena             53
+
+Fifth Litany--Salve Regina              67
+
+Sixth Litany--Benedicta Tu              81
+
+Seventh Litany--Stella Matutina         95
+
+Eighth Litany--Domina Exaudi           109
+
+Ninth Litany--Lilium inter Spinas      123
+
+Tenth Litany--Gloria in Excelsis       137
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+First Litany.
+
+VIRGO DULCIS.
+
+
+First Litany.
+
+Virgo Dulcis.
+
+
+i.
+
+O thou refulgent essence of all grace!
+  O thou that with the witchery of thy face
+Hast made of me thy servant unto death,
+I pray thee pause, ere, musical of breath,
+And rapt of utterance, thou condemn indeed
+My venturous wooing, and the wanton speed
+  With which I greet thee, dear and tender soul!
+From out the fullness of my passion-creed.
+
+
+ii.
+
+I am so truly thine that nevermore
+  Shall man be found, this side the Stygian shore,
+So meek as I, so patient under blame,
+And yet, withal, so minded to proclaim
+His life-long ardour. For my theme is just:
+A heart enslaved, a smile, a broken trust,
+  A soft mirage, a glimpse of fairyland,
+And then the wreck thereof in tears and dust.
+
+
+iii.
+
+Thou wast not made for murder, yet a glance
+  May murderous prove; and beauty may entrance,
+More than a syren's or a serpent's eye.
+And there are moments when a smother'd sigh
+May hint at comfort and a murmur'd "No"
+Give signs of "Yes," and Misery's overflow
+  Make tears more precious than we care to tell,
+Though, one by one, our hopes we must forego.
+
+
+iv.
+
+I should have shunn'd thee as a man may shun
+  His evil hour. I should have curst the sun
+That made the day so bright and earth so fair
+When first we met, delirium through the air
+Burning like fire! I should have curst the moon
+And all the stars that, dream-like, in a swoon
+  Shut out the day,--the lov'd, the lovely day
+That came too late and left us all too soon.
+
+
+v.
+
+I look'd at thee, and lo! from face to feet,
+  I saw my tyrant, and I felt the beat
+Of my quick pulse. I knew thee for a queen
+And bow'd submissive; and the smile serene
+Of thy sweet face reveal'd the soul of thee.
+For I was wounded as a man may be
+  Whom Eros tricks with words he will not prove;
+And all my peace of mind went out from me.
+
+
+vi.
+
+Oh, why didst cheer me with the thought of bliss,
+  And wouldst not pay me back my luckless kiss?
+I sought thy side. I gave thee of my store
+One wild salute. A flame was at the core
+Of that first kiss; and on my mouth I feel
+The glow thereof, the pressure and the seal,
+  As if thy nature, when the deed was done,
+Had leapt to mine in lightning-like appeal.
+
+
+vii.
+
+If debts were paid in full I might require
+  More than my kiss. I might, in time, aspire
+To some new bond, or re-enact the first.
+For once, thou know'st, the love for which I thirst,
+The love for which I hunger'd in thy sight,
+Was not withheld. I deem'd thee, day and night,
+  Mine own true mate, and sent thee token flowers
+To figure forth the hopes I'd fain indite.
+
+
+viii.
+
+Is this not so? Canst thou detend, in truth,
+  The sunlike smile with which, in flush of youth,
+Thou didst accept my greeting,--though so late,--
+My love-lorn homage when the voice of Fate
+Fell from thy lips, and made me twice a man
+Because half thine, in that betrothal-plan
+  Whereof I spake, not knowing how 'twould be
+When May had marr'd the prospects it began?
+
+
+ix.
+
+Can'st thou deny that, early in the spring,
+  When daisies droop'd, and birds were fain to sing,
+We met, and talk'd, and walk'd, and were content
+In sunlit paths? An hour and more we spent
+In Keats's Grove. We linger'd near the stem
+Of that lone tree on which was seen the gem
+  Of his bright name, there carven by himself;
+And then I stoop'd and kiss'd thy garment's hem.
+
+
+x.
+
+I gave thee all my life. I gave thee there,
+  In that wild hour, the great Creator's share
+Of mine existence; and I turn'd to thee
+As men to idols, madly on my knee;
+And then uplifted by those arms of thine,
+I sat beside thee, warm'd with other wine
+  Than vintage balm; and, mindful of thy blush,
+I guess'd a thought which words will not define.
+
+
+xi.
+
+I told thee stories of the days of joy
+  When earth was young, and love without alloy
+Made all things glad and all the thoughts of things.
+And like a man who wonders when he sings,
+And knows not whence the power that in him lies,
+I made a madrigal of all my sighs
+  And bade thee heed them; and I join'd therewith
+The texts of these my follies that I prize.
+
+
+xii.
+
+I spoke of men, long dead, who wooed in vain
+  And yet were happy,--men whose tender pain
+Was fraught with fervor, as the night with stars.
+And then I spoke of heroes' battle-scars
+And lordly souls who rode from land to land
+To win the love-touch of a lady's hand;
+  And on the strings of thy low-murmuring lute
+I struck the chords that all men understand.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+I sang to thee. I praised thee with my praise,
+  E'en as a bird, conceal'd in sylvan ways,
+May laud the rose, and wish, from hour to hour,
+That he had petals like the empress-flower,
+And there could grow, unwing'd, and be a bud,
+With all his warblings ta'en at singing-flood
+  And turned to vàgaries of the wildest scent
+To undermine the meekness in her blood.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+Ah, those were days! That April should have been
+  My last on earth, and, ere the frondage green
+Had changed to gold, I should have join'd the ranks
+Of dull dead men who lived for little thanks
+And made the most thereof, though penance-bound.
+I should have known that in the daily round
+  Of mine existence, there are griefs to spare,
+But joys, alas! too few on any ground.
+
+
+xv.
+
+And here I stand to-day with bended head,
+  My task undone, my garden overspread
+With baneful weeds. Am I the lord thereof?
+Or mine own slave, without the power to doff
+My misery's badge? Am I so weak withal,
+That I must loiter, though the bugle's call
+  Shrills o'er the moor, the far-off weltering moor,
+Where foemen meet to vanquish or to fall?
+
+
+xvi.
+
+Am I so blurr'd in soul, so out of health,
+  That I must turn to thee, as if by stealth,
+And fear thy censure, fear thy quick rebuff,
+And thou so gentle in a world so rough
+That God's high priest, the morn-apparell'd sun
+Ne'er saw thy like! Am I indeed undone
+  Of life and love and all? and must I weep
+For joys that quit me, and for sands that run?
+
+
+xvii.
+
+To-morrow's dawn will break; but Yesterday,
+  Where is its light? And where the breezes' play
+That sway'd the flowers? A bird will sing again,
+But not so well. The wind upon the plain,
+The wintry wind, will toss the groaning trees;
+But I, what comfort shall I have of these,
+  To know that they, unlov'd, have lost the Spring,
+As I thy favour and my power to please?
+
+
+xviii.
+
+I should have learnt a lesson from the songs
+  Of woodland birds discoursing on the wrongs
+Of madcap moths and bachelor butterflies.
+I should have caught the cadence of the sighs
+Of unwed flowers, and learnt the way to woo,
+Which all things know but I, beneath the blue
+  Of Heaven's great dome; for, undesired of thee,
+I have but jarr'd the notes that seem'd so true.
+
+
+xix.
+
+I should have told thee all I meant to tell,
+  And how, at Lammas-tide, a wedding-bell
+Rang through my sleep, mine own as well as thine;
+And how I led thee, smiling, to a shrine
+And there endow'd thee with the name I bear;
+And how I woke to find the morning-air
+  Flooded with light. I should have told thee this
+And not conceal'd the theme of my long prayer.
+
+
+xx.
+
+But I was timid. Oh, my love was such
+  I scarce could name it! Trembling over-much
+With too much ardour, I was moved at length
+To mere mad utterance. In a blameful strength
+I seiz'd thy hand, to scare thee, as of old
+Dryads were scared; and calm and icy-cold
+  Thine answer came: "I pray thee, vex me not!"
+And all that day 'twas winter on the wold.
+
+
+[Illustration: cherub]
+
+
+
+
+Second Litany.
+
+_VOX AMORIS_.
+
+
+Second Litany.
+
+Vox Amorís.[1]
+
+
+i.
+
+Vouchsafe, my Lady! by the passion-flower,
+  And by the glamour of a moonlit hour,
+And by the cries and sighs of all the birds
+That sing o'nights, to heed again the words
+Of my poor pleading! For I swear to thee
+My love is deeper than the bounding sea,
+  And more conclusive than a wedding-bell,
+And freer-voiced than winds upon the lea.
+
+[Footnote 1: This Litany was introduced in the Author's "Gladys the
+Singer," published by Messrs. Reeves & Turner, London, 1887.]
+
+
+ii.
+
+In all the world, from east unto the west,
+  There is no vantage-ground, and little rest,
+And no content for me from dawn to dark,
+From set of sun to song-time of the lark,
+And yet, withal, there is no man alive
+Who for a goodly cause to make it thrive,
+  Would do such deeds as I would gird me to
+Could I but win the pearl for which I dive.
+
+
+iii.
+
+It is thy love which, downward in the deep
+  Of far-off visions, I behold in sleep,--
+It is thy pearl of love which in the night
+Doth tempt my soul to hopes I dare not write,--
+It is this gem for which, had I a crown,
+I'd barter peace and pomp, and ermined gown;
+  It is thy troth, thou paragon of maids!
+For which I'd sell the joys of all renown.
+
+
+iv.
+
+I would attack a panther in its den
+  To do thee service as thy man of men,
+Or front the Fates, or, like a ghoul, confer
+With staring ghosts outside a sepulchre.
+I would forego a limb to give thee life,
+Or yield my soul itself in any strife,
+  In any coil of doubt, in any spot
+When Death and Danger meet as man and wife.
+
+
+v.
+
+It is my solace, all my nights and days,
+  To pray for thee and dote on thee always,
+And evermore to count myself a king
+Because I earn'd thy favour in the spring.
+Oh, smile on me and call me to thy side,
+And I will kneel to thee, as to a bride,
+  And yet adore thee as a saint in Heaven
+By God ordained, by good men glorified!
+
+
+vi.
+
+I will acquaint thee with mine inmost thought
+  And teach thee all I know, though unbesought,
+And make thee prouder of a poet's dream
+Than wealthy men are proud of what they seem.
+If thou have trust therein, if thou require
+Service of me, or song, or penance dire,
+  I will obey thee as thy belted knight,
+Or die to satisfy thy heart's desire.
+
+
+vii.
+
+Ah! thou hast that in store which none can give,
+  None but thyself, and I am fain to live
+To watch the outcome of so fair a gift,--
+To see the bright good morrow loom and lift,
+And know that thou,--unpeer'd beneath the moon,--
+Untamed of men,--untutor'd to the tune
+  Of lip with lip,--wilt cease thy coy disdain
+And learn the languors of the loves of June.
+
+
+viii.
+
+All that I am, and all I hope to be,
+  Is thine till death; and though I die for thee
+Each day I live; and though I throb and thrill
+At thoughts that seem to burn me, and to chill,
+In my dark hours, I revel in the same;
+Yet I am free of hope, as thou of blame,
+  And all around me, wakeful and in sleep,
+I weave a blessing for thy soul to claim.
+
+
+ix.
+
+Oh, by thy radiant hair and by the glow
+  Of thy full eyes,--and by thy breast of snow,--
+And by the buds thereof that have the flush
+Of infant roses when they strive to blush,--
+And by thy voice, melodious as a bell
+That rings for prayer in God's high citadel,--
+  By all these things, and more than I can urge,
+I charge thee, Sweet! to let me out of hell!
+
+
+x.
+
+Is it not Hell to live so far away
+  And not to touch thee,--not by night or day
+To be partaker of one smile of thine,
+Or one commingling of thy breath and mine,
+Or one encounter of thine amorous mouth?
+I dwell apart from thee, as north from south,
+  As east from western ways I dwell apart,
+And taste the tears that quench not any drouth.
+
+
+xi.
+
+Why wouldst thou take the memory of a wrong
+  To be thy shadow all the summer long,
+A thing to chide thee at the dead of night,
+A thing to wake thee with the morning light
+For self-upbraiding, while the wanton bird
+Invests the welkin? Ah, by joy deferr'd,
+  By peace withheld from me,--do thou relent
+And dower my life to-day with one love-word!
+
+
+xii.
+
+Wouldst thou, Cassandra-wise, oppress my soul
+  With more unrest, and Hebè-like, the bowl
+Of festal comfort for a moment raise
+To my poor lips, and then avert thy gaze?
+Wouldst make me mad beyond the daily curse
+Of thy displeasure, and in wrath disperse
+  That halcyon draught, that nectar of the mind,
+Which is the theme I yearn to in my verse?
+
+
+xiii.
+
+Oh, by thy pity when so slight a thing
+  As some small bird is wounded in the wing,
+Avert thy scorn, and grant me, from afar,
+At least the right to love thee as a star,--
+The right to turn to thee, the right to bow
+To thy pure name and evermore, as now,
+  To own thy thraldom and to sing thereon,
+In proud allegiance to mine earliest vow.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+It were abuse of power to frown again
+  When, all day long, I gloat upon the pain
+Of pent-up hope, my joy and my distress,--
+While the remembrance of a mute caress
+Given to a rose,--a rose I pluck'd for thee,--
+Seems as the withering of the world to me,
+  Because I am unlov'd of thee to-day
+And undesired as sea-weeds in the sea.
+
+
+xv.
+
+I'll not believe that eyes so bright as thine
+  Were meant for malice in the summer-shine,
+Or that a glance thereof, though changed to fire,
+Could injure one whose spirit, like a lyre,
+Has throbb'd to music of remember'd joys,--
+The pride thereof, and all the tender poise
+  Of trust with trust,--the symphonies of grief
+Made all mine own,--and Faith which never cloys.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+How can it be that one so fair as thou
+  Should wear contention on a whiter brow
+Than May-day Dian's in her hunting gear?
+I'll not believe that eyes so holy-clear
+And mouth so constant to its morning prayer
+Could mock the mischief of a man's despair
+  And all the misery of a moment's hope
+Seen far away, as mists are seen in air.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+How can a woman's heart be made of stone
+  And she not know it? Mine is overthrown.
+I have no heart to-day, no perfect one,
+Only a thing that sighs at set of sun
+And beats its cage, as if the thrall thereof
+Were freedom's prison or the tomb of love;
+  As if, God help me! there were shame in truth
+And no salvation left in realms above.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+I once could laugh, I once was deem'd a man
+  Fit for the frenzies of the dead god Pan,
+And now, by Heaven! the birds that sing so well
+Move me to tears; and all the leafy dell,
+And all the sun-down glories of the West,
+And all the moorland which the moon has blest,
+  Make me a dreamer, aye! a coward, too,
+In all the weird expanse of mine unrest.
+
+
+xix.
+
+It is my curse to see thee and to learn
+  That I must shun thee, though I blaze and burn
+With all this longing, all this fierce delight
+Fear-fraught and famish'd for a suitor's right;
+A right conceded for a moment's space
+And then withdrawn as, amorous face to face,
+  I dared to clasp thee and to urge a troth
+Too sovereign-sweet for one of Adam's race.
+
+
+xx.
+
+I am a doom-entangled mirthless soul,
+  Without the power to rid me of the dole
+Which, day by day, and nightly evermore
+Corrodes my peace! Oh, smile, as once before,
+At each wild thought and each discarded plea,
+And let thy sentence, let thy suffrance be
+  That I be reckon'd till the day I die
+The sad-eyed Singer of thy fame and thee!
+
+
+[Illustration: cherub]
+
+
+
+
+Third Litany.
+
+_AD TE CLAMAVI._
+
+
+Third Litany.
+
+Ad Te Clamavi.
+
+
+i.
+
+Again, O Love! again I make lament,
+  And, Arab-like, I pitch my summer-tent
+Outside the gateways of the Lord of Song.
+I weep and wait, contented all day long
+To be the proud possessor of a grief.
+It comforts me. It gives me more relief
+  Than pleasures give; and, spirit-like in air,
+It re-invokes the peace that was so brief.
+
+
+ii.
+
+It speaks of thee. It keeps me from the lake
+  Which else might tempt me; and for thy sweet sake
+I shun all evil. I am calmer now
+Than when I wooed thee, calmer than the vow
+Which made me thine, and yet so fond withal
+I start and tremble at the wind's footfall.
+  Is it the wind? Or is it mine own past
+Come back to life to lure me to its thrall?
+
+
+iii.
+
+I long to rise and seek thee where thou art
+  And draw thee amorous to my wakeful heart
+That beats for thee alone, in vague unrest.
+I long to front thee when thou'rt lily-dress'd
+In white attire,--e'en like the flowers of old
+That Jesus praised; and, though the thought be bold,
+  I'm fain to kiss thee, Sweetheart! through thy hair
+And hide my face awhile in all that gold.
+
+
+iv.
+
+I will not say what more might then be done,
+  And how, by moonlight or beneath the sun,
+We might be happy. In a reckless mood
+I've talk'd of this; and dreams and many a brood
+Of tongue-tied fancies have my soul beset.
+I will not hint at fealty or the fret
+  Of lips untrue, or anger thee therein,
+Or call to mind one word thou wouldst forget.
+
+
+v.
+
+I should withhold my raptures were I wise,
+  I should not vex thee with my many sighs,
+Or claim one tear from thee, though 'tis my due.
+I should be silent. I should cease to sue!
+Sorrow should teach me what I fail'd to learn
+In days gone by; and cross'd at every turn
+  By some new doubt, new-born of my desires,
+I should suppress the pangs with which I burn.
+
+
+vi.
+
+I am an outcast from the land of love
+  And thou the Queen thereof, as white as dove
+New-sped from Heaven, and fine and fair to see
+As coy Queen Mab when, out upon the lea,
+She met her master and was lov'd of him.
+Thou art allied to long-hair'd cherubim,
+  And I a something undesired of these,
+With woesome lips and eyes for ever dim.
+
+
+vii.
+
+I was ordain'd thy minstrel, but alas!
+  I dare not greet thee when I see thee pass;
+I scarce, indeed, may hope at any time,
+To work my will, or triumph in a rhyme
+To do thee honour; no, nor make amends
+For unsought fervor, in the tangled ends
+  Of my despair. How sad, how dark to me
+All things have grown since thou and I were friends!
+
+
+viii.
+
+It is the fault of thy despotic glance,
+  It is the memory of a day's romance
+When, true to thee, though taunted for my truth,
+I dared to solemnise the joys of youth
+In one wild chant. It is thy fault, I say!
+Thy piteous fault that, on the verge of May,
+  I lost the right to live, as heretofore,
+Untouched by doubt from day to brightening day.
+
+
+ix.
+
+O Summer's Pride! I loved thee from the first,
+  And, like a martyr, I was blest and curst,
+And saved and slain, and crown'd and made anew,
+A grief-glad man, with yearnings not a few,
+But no just hope to win so fair a troth.
+I should have known how one may weep for both
+  When lovers part, poor souls! beneath the moon,
+And how Remembrance may outlive an oath.
+
+
+x.
+
+The nymphs, I think, were like thee in the glade
+  Of that Greek valley where the wine was made
+For feasts of Bacchus; for I dream at night
+Of those creations, kind and calm and bright;
+And in my thought, unhallow'd though it be,
+The sun-born Muses turn their gaze on me,
+  And seem to know me as a friend of theirs,
+Though all unfit to serve them on my knee.
+
+
+xi.
+
+They lived and sang. They died as visions die,
+  Supreme, eternal, offshoots of the sky,
+Made and re-made, undraped and draped afresh,
+To glad the earth like phantoms made of flesh,
+And yet as mistlike as delusions are!
+They stood beside Achilles in his car;
+  They knew the gods and all their joysome deeds,
+And all the chants that sprang from star to star.
+
+
+xii.
+
+The myths of Greece, the maidens of the grove,
+  The dear dead fancies of the days of Jove,
+Why were they bann'd? Oh, why in Reason's name,
+Were they abolished? They were good to claim,
+And good to dream of, and to crown with bays,
+Far-seen of men, far-shining in the haze
+  Of withering doubts. They were the world's elect,
+As thou art mine, to bow to and to praise.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+Night after night I see thee, in my dreams,
+  As fair as Daphne, with the morning beams
+Of thy bright locks about thee like a cloak,--
+Fair as the young Aurora when she woke
+At Phæthon's call, athwart the mountain-heights.
+I see thee radiant in the summer nights,
+  And, bosom-pack'd with frenzies unrepress'd,
+I thrill to thee in Slumber's soft delights.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+I see thee pout. I see thee in disdain
+  Look out, reluctant, through the falling rain
+Of thy long hair. I feel thee close at hand.
+I note thy breathing as I loose the band
+That binds thy waist, and then to waking life
+I backward start! Despair is Sorrow's wife;
+  And I am Sorrow, and Despair's mine own,
+To lure me on to madness or to strife.
+
+
+xv.
+
+My sex offends thee, or the thought of this;
+  For I did fright thee when I fleck'd a kiss
+With too much heat. I should have bow'd to thee,
+And left unsaid the word, deception-free,
+Which, like a flash, illumed the love within,
+My wilfulness was much to blame therein;
+  But thou wilt shrive me, Sweet! of mine offence
+If passion-pangs be deem'd so dark a sin.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+Oh, give me back my soul that with the same
+  I may achieve a deed of poet-fame,
+Or die belauded on the battle-field!
+There's much to seek. My hand is strong to wield
+Weapon or pen. If thou consent thereto
+Deeds may be done. If not, thine eyes are blue
+  And Heaven is there,--a two-fold tender shrine
+Whose wrath I fear, whose judgment still I rue!
+
+
+xvii.
+
+I am but half myself. The life in me
+  Is nigh crush'd out; and, though I seem to see
+Glory, and grace, and joy, as in the past,
+They are but shadows on the cozening blast,
+And dreams of devils and distorted things,
+And snakes coiled up that look like wedding rings,
+  And faded flowers that once were fit for wreaths
+In bygone summers and in perish'd springs.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+There is a curse in every garden place,
+  And when, at night, the lily's holy face
+Looks up to God, it seems to chide me there.
+The very sun with all his golden hair
+Is ill at ease, and birth and death of day
+Bring no relief; and darkly on my way
+  My memory comes,--the ghost of my Delight,--
+To fret and fume at woes it cannot slay.
+
+
+xix.
+
+Oh, bid me smile again, as in the time
+  When all the breezes seem'd to make a chime,
+And all the birds on all the woodland slopes
+Had trills for me, and seem'd to guess the hopes
+That warm'd my heart. O thou whom I adore!
+How proud were I,--though wounded bitter-sore
+  By shafts of doubt,--if, in default of love
+I could but win thy friendship as of yore.
+
+
+xx.
+
+Then were I blest indeed, and crown'd of fate
+  As kings are crowned, as bards in their estate
+Are rapture-fraught, re-risen above the dust.
+Then were I torture-proof, and on the crust
+Of one kind word, though as a pittance thrown,
+I'd live for weeks! My tears I would disown
+  And pray, contented with my discontent,
+As hermits pray when storms are overblown.
+
+
+[Illustration: cherub]
+
+
+
+
+Fourth Litany.
+
+_GRATIA PLENA_.
+
+
+Fourth Litany.
+
+Gratia Plena.
+
+
+i.
+
+Oh, smile on me, thou syren of my soul!
+  That I may curb my thoughts to some control
+And not offend thee, as in truth I do,
+Morning, and noon and night, when I pursue
+My vagrant fancies, unallow'd of thee,
+But fraught with such consolement unto me
+  As may be felt in homeward-sailing ships
+When wind and wave contend upon the sea.
+
+
+ii.
+
+Dower me with patience and imbue me still
+  With some reminder, when the night is chill,
+Of thy dear presence, as, in winter-time,
+The maiden moon, that tenderly doth climb
+The lofty heavens, hath yet a beam to spare
+For doleful wretches in their dungeon-lair;
+  E'en thus endow me in my chamber dim
+With some reminder of thy face so fair!
+
+
+iii.
+
+Quit thou thy body while thou sleepest well
+  And visit mine at midnight, by the spell
+That knows not shame. For in the House of Sleep
+All things are pure; and in the silence deep
+I'll wait for thee, and thou, contrition-wise,
+Wilt seek my couch and this that on it lies,
+  This frame of mine that lives for thee alone
+As palmers live for peace that never dies.
+
+
+iv.
+
+It were a goodly thing to spare a foe
+  And kill his hate. And I would e'en do so!
+For I would kill the coyness of thy face.
+I would enfold thee in my spurn'd embrace
+And kiss the kiss that gladdens as with wine.
+Yea, I would wrestle with those arms of thine,
+  And, like a victor, I would vanquish thee,
+And, tyrant-like, I'd teach thee to be mine.
+
+
+v.
+
+For, what is peace that we should cling thereto
+  If war be wisest? If the death we woo
+Be fraught with fervor there's delight in death!
+There is persuasion in the tempest's breath
+Not known in calm; and raptures round us flow
+When, like an arrow through the bended bow
+  Of two fond lips, the quivering dart of love
+Brings down the kiss which saints shall not bestow.
+
+
+vi.
+
+The soldier dies for country and for kin;
+  He dies for fame that is so sweet to win;
+And, part for duty, part for battle-doom,
+He wends his way to where the myrtles bloom;
+He gains a grave, perchance a recompense
+Beyond his seeking, and a restful sense
+  Of soul-completion, far from any strife,
+And far from memory of his land's defence.
+
+
+vii.
+
+Be this my meed,--to die for love of thee,
+  As when the sun goes down upon the sea
+And finds no mate in all the realms of earth.
+I, too, have look'd on Nature in its worth
+And found no resting-place in all the spheres,
+And no relief beyond my sonnet-tears,--
+  The soul-fed shudderings of my lonely harp
+That knows the gamut now of all my fears.
+
+
+viii.
+
+I wear thy colours till the day I die:
+  A glove, a ribbon, and a rose thereby,
+All join'd in one. I revel in these things;
+For, once an angel, unarray'd in wings,
+Came to my side, and beam'd on me, and said:
+"I love thee, friend!" and then, with lifted head,
+  Gave me a rose on which the dew had fallen;
+And, like the flower, she blush'd a virgin-red.
+
+
+ix.
+
+I found the glove down yonder in the dale.
+  I knew 'twas thine; its color, creamy-pale,
+Fill'd me with joy. "A prize!" I cried aloud,
+And snatch'd it up, as zealous then, and proud,
+As one who wins a knighthood in his youth;
+And I was moved thereat, in very sooth,
+  And kiss'd it oft, and call'd on kindly Heaven
+To be the sponsor of mine amorous truth.
+
+
+x.
+
+I Earn'd the ribbon as we earn a smile
+  For service done. I help'd thee at the stile;
+And so 'twas mine, my trophy, as of right.
+Oh, never yet was ribbon half so bright!
+It seem'd of sky-descent,--a strip of morn
+Thrown on the sod,--a something summer-worn
+  To be my guerdon; and, enriched therewith,
+I follow'd thee, thy suitor, through the corn.
+
+
+xi.
+
+I trod on air. I seem'd to hear the sound
+  Of fifes and trumpets and the quick rebound
+Of bells unseen,--the storming of a tower
+By imps audacious, and the sovereign power
+Of some arch-fairy, thine acquaintance sure
+In days gone by; for, all the land was pure,
+  As if new-blest,--the land and all the sea
+And all the welkin where the stars endure.
+
+
+xii.
+
+We journey'd on through fields that were a-glow
+  With cowslip buds and daisies white as snow;
+And, hand in hand, we stood beside a shrine
+At which a bard whom lovers deem divine,
+Laid down his life; and, as we gazed at this,
+There seem'd to issue from the wood's abyss
+  A sound of trills, as if, in its wild way,
+A nightingale were pondering on a kiss.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+A lane was reached that led I know not where,
+  Unless to Heaven,--for Heaven was surely there
+And thou so near it! And within a nook
+A-down whose covertness a noisy brook
+Did talk of peace, I learnt of thee my fate;
+The word of pity that was kin to hate,--
+  The voice of reason that was reason's foe
+Because it spurn'd the love that was so great!
+
+
+xiv.
+
+But I must pause. I must, from day to day,
+  Keep back my tears, and seek a surer way
+Than Memory's track. I must, with lifted eyes,
+Re-shape my life, and heed the battle-cries
+Of prompt ambition, and be braced at call
+To do such deeds as haply may befall,
+  If, freed of thee, and charter'd to myself,
+I may undo the bonds that now enthrall.
+
+
+xv.
+
+Shall I do this? I shall; and thou shalt see
+  Signs of rebellion. I will turn to thee
+And claim obedience. I will make it plain
+How many a link may go to form a chain,
+And each a circlet, each a ring to wear.
+I will extract the sting from my despair
+  And toy therewith, as with a charmèd snake,
+That, Lamia-like, uprears itself in air.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+Or is my boast a vain, an empty one,
+  And shall I rue it ere the day is done?
+Will hope revive betimes? Or must I stand
+For evermore outside the fairyland
+Of thy good will? Alas! my place is here,
+To muse and moan and sigh and shed my tear,
+  My paltry tear for one who loves me not,
+And would not mourn for me on my death-bier.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+Oh, get thee hence, thou harbinger of light!
+  That, like a dream, dost come to me at night
+To haunt my sleep, and rob me of content,
+So true-untrue, so deaf to my lament,
+I must forego the pride I felt therein.
+Aye, get thee hence! And I will crush the sin,
+  If sin it be, that prompts me, night and day,
+To seek in thee the bliss I cannot win.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+Or, if thou needs must haunt me after dark,
+  Come when I wake. The oriole and the lark
+Are friends of thine; and oft, I know, the thrush
+Has trill'd of thee at morn and even-blush.
+And flowers have made confessions unto me
+At which I marvel; for they rail at thee
+  And call thee heartless in thy seemlihood,
+Though queen-elect of all the flowers that be.
+
+
+xix.
+
+Nay, heed me not! I rave; I am possess'd
+  By utmost longing. I am sore oppress'd
+By thoughts of woe; and in my heart I feel
+A something keener than the touch of steel,
+As if, to-day, a danger unforeseen
+Had track'd thy path,--as if my prayers had been
+  Misjudged in Heaven, or drown'd in demon-shouts
+Beyond the boundaries of the coasts terrene.
+
+
+xx.
+
+But this is clear; this much at least is true:
+  I am thine own! I doat upon the blue
+Of thy kind eyes, well knowing that in these
+Are proofs of God; and down upon my knees
+I fall subservient, as a man in shame
+May own a fault; albeit, as with a flame,
+  I burn all day, abash'd and unforgiven,
+And all unfit to touch the hand I claim!
+
+
+[Illustration: cherub]
+
+
+
+
+Fifth Litany.
+
+_SALVE REGINA_.
+
+
+Fifth Litany.
+
+Salve Regina.
+
+
+i.
+
+Glory to thee, my Queen! whom far away
+  My thoughts aspire to,--as the birds of May
+Aspire o' mornings,--as in lonely nooks
+The gurgling murmurs of neglected brooks
+Aspire to moonlight,--aye! as earth aspires
+When through the East, alert with wild desires,
+  The rapturous sun surveys the welkin's height,
+And flecks the world with witcheries of his fires.
+
+
+ii.
+
+Oh, I should curb my grief. I should entone
+  No plaint to thee; no loss should I bemoan!
+I should be patient, I, though full of care,
+And not attempt, by bias of a prayer,
+To sway thy spirit, or to urge anew
+A claim contested. For my days are few;
+  My days, I think, are few upon the earth
+Since I must shun the joys I would pursue.
+
+
+iii.
+
+I am not worthy of the Heaven I name
+  When I name thee; and yet to win the same
+Is still my dream. I strive as best I can
+To live uprightly on the vaunted plan
+Of old-world sages. But I strive not well;
+And thoughts conflicting which I cannot quell
+  Make me despondent; and I quake thereat,
+As at the shuddering of a doomsday bell.
+
+
+iv.
+
+To die for thee were more than my desert;
+  To live for thee to keep thee out of hurt
+And, like a slave, to wait upon thy will
+Were more than fame. And lo! I nourish still
+A sense of calm to feel that thou, at least,
+Art sorrow-free and honor'd at the feast
+  Which Nature spreads for all contented minds;
+And that for thee its splendours have increased.
+
+
+v.
+
+I stand alone. I stand beneath the trees,
+  I guess their thoughts; I hear them to the breeze
+Say tender nothings; and I dream the while
+Of thy white arms, and thy remember'd smile,
+When, in a spot like this, a year a-gone,
+I saw thee stoop to pluck from off the lawn
+  A wounded bird that peer'd into thy face
+As if it took thee for the nymph of dawn!
+
+
+vi.
+
+Oh, can it be, as friends of thine affirm
+  That thou'rt a fairy,--that, from term to term,
+Month after month, belov'd of all good things,
+Thou'rt seen in forests and in meadow rings
+Girt for the dance? or like an Oread queen
+Array'd for council? For the woods convene
+  Their dryad forces when the nights are clear,
+And nymphs and fawns carouse upon the green.
+
+
+vii.
+
+The crescent moon, the Argosy of heaven,
+  Veers for the west across the Pleïads seven,
+And, out beyond the ridge of Charles's Wain,
+It seems to come to mooring on the main
+Of that deep sky, as if awaiting there
+An angel-guest with sunlight in her hair,
+  A seraph's cousin, or the foster-child
+Of some centurion of the upper air.
+
+
+viii.
+
+Is it thy soul? Has Cynthia call'd for thee
+  In her white boat, to take thee o'er the sea
+Where suns and stars and constellations bright
+Are isles of glory,--where a seraph's right
+Surpasses mine, and makes me seem indeed
+A base intruder, with a coward's creed
+  And not an angel's, though a Christian born
+And pledged alwàys to serve thee at thy need?
+
+
+ix.
+
+Thou'rt sleeping now; and in thy snowy rest,--
+  In that seclusion which is like a nest
+For blameless human maids beheld of those
+Who come from God,--thou hast in thy repose
+No thought of me,--no thought of pairing-time.
+For thou'rt the sworn opponent of the rhyme
+  That lovers make in kissing; and anon
+My very love will vex thee like a crime.
+
+
+x.
+
+But day and night, and winter-tide and spring,
+  Change at thy voice; and when I hear thee sing
+I know 'tis May; and when I see thy face
+I know 'tis Summer. Thou'rt the youngest Grace,
+And all the Muses praise thee evermore.
+And there are birds who name thee as they soar;
+  And some of these,--the best and brightest ones,--
+Have guess'd the pangs that pierce me to the core.
+
+
+xi.
+
+Thou art the month of May with all its nights
+  And all its days transfigured in the lights
+Of love-lit smiles and glances multiform;
+And, like a lark that sings above a storm,
+Thy voice o'er-rides the tumult of my mind.
+Oh, give me back the peace I strove to find
+  In my last prayer, and I'll believe that Hope
+Will dry anon the tears that make it blind.
+
+
+xii.
+
+There's none like thee, not one in all the world;
+  No face so fair, no smile so sweet-impearl'd,
+And no such music on the hills and plains
+As thy young voice whereof the thrill remains
+For hours and hours,--belike to keep alive
+The sense of beauty that the flowers may thrive.
+  Or is't thy wish that birds should fly to thee
+Before the days of April's quest arrive?
+
+
+xiii.
+
+Thou'rt noble-natured; and there's none to stand
+  So meek as thou, or with so dear a hand
+To ward off wrong. For Psyche of the Greeks
+Is dead and gone; and Eros with his freaks
+Has bow'd to thee, and turn'd aside, for shame,
+His useless shaft, not daring to proclaim
+  His amorous laws, and thou so maiden-coy
+Beneath the halo of thy spotless name!
+
+
+xiv.
+
+But dreams are idle, and I must forget
+  All that they tend to. I must cease to fret,
+Moth as I am, for stars beyond the reach
+Of mine up-soaring; and in milder speech
+I must invoke thy blessing on the road
+That lies before me,--far from thine abode,
+  And far from all persuasion that again
+Thou wilt accept the terms of my love-code.
+
+
+xv.
+
+O Sweet! forgive me that from day to day
+  I dream such dreams, and teach me how to sway
+My fluttering self, that, in forsaken hours,
+I may be valiant, and eschew the powers
+Of death and doubt! I need the certitude
+Of thine esteem that I may check the feud
+  Of mine own thoughts that rend and anger me
+Because denied the boon for which I sued.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+Teach me to wait with patience for a word,
+  And be the sight of thee no more deferr'd
+Than one up-rising of the vesper star
+That waits on Dian when, supreme, afar,
+She eyes the sunset. And of this be sure,
+As I'm a man and thou a maid demure,
+  Thou shalt be ta'en aside and wonder'd at,
+Before the gloaming leaves the land obscure.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+Thou shalt be bow'd to as we bow to saints
+  In window'd shrines; and, far from all attaints
+Of ribald passion, thou, as seemeth good,
+Wilt smile serenely in thy virginhood.
+Nor shall I know, of mine own poor accord,
+Which thing in all the world is best to hoard,
+  Or which is worst of all the things that slay:
+A woman's beauty or a soldier's sword.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+I grieve in sleep. I pine away at night.
+  I wake, uncared for, in the morning light;
+And, hour by hour, I marvel that for me
+The wandering wind should make its minstrelsy
+So sweet and calm. I marvel that the sun,
+So round and red, with all his hair undone,
+  Should smile at me and yet begrudge me still
+The sight of thee that art my worshipp'd one!
+
+
+xix.
+
+I count my moments as a cloister'd man
+  May count his beads; and through the weary span
+Of each long day I peer into my heart
+For hints of comfort; and I find, in part,
+A self-committal, and a glimpse withal
+Of some new menace in the rise and fall
+  Of days and nights that are the test of Time
+Though Fate would make a mockery of them all.
+
+
+xx.
+
+There's a disaster worse than loss of gold,
+  Worse than remorse, and worse a thousand-fold,
+Than pangs of hunger. 'Tis the thirst of love,
+The rage and rapture of the ravening dove
+We name Desire. Ah, pardon! I offend;
+My fervor blinds me to the withering end
+  Of all good council, and, accurst thereby,
+I vaunt anew the faults I cannot mend.
+
+
+[Illustration: cherubs]
+
+
+
+
+Sixth Litany.
+
+_BENEDICTA TU_.
+
+
+Sixth Litany.
+
+Benedicta Tu.
+
+
+i.
+
+I tell thee Sweet! there lives not on the earth
+  A love like mine in all the height and girth
+And all the vast completion of the sphere.
+I should be proud, to-day, to shed a tear
+If I could weep. But tears are most denied
+When most besought; and joys are sanctified
+  By joys' undoing in this world of ours
+From dusk to dawn and dawn to eventide.
+
+
+ii.
+
+Wert thou a marble maid and I endow'd
+  With power to move thee from thy seeming shroud
+Of frozen splendour,--all thy whiteness mine
+And all the glamour, all the tender shine
+Of thy glad eyes,--ah God! if this were so,
+And I the loosener, in the summer-glow,
+  Of thy long tresses! I were licensed then
+To gaze, unchidden, on thy limbs of snow.
+
+
+iii.
+
+I would prepare for thee a holy niche
+  In some new temple, and with draperies rich,
+And flowers and lamps and incense of the best,
+I would with something of mine own unrest
+Imbue thy blood and prompt thee to be just.
+I would endow thee with a fairer trust
+  Than mere contentment, and a dearer joy
+Than mere revulsion from the sins of dust.
+
+
+iv.
+
+A band of boys, with psaltery and with lyre,
+  And Cyprian girls, the slaves of thy desire,
+Would chant and pray and raise so wild a storm
+Of golden notes around thy sculptured form
+That saints would hear the chorus up in Heaven,
+And intermingle with their holy steven
+  The sighs of earth, and long for other cares
+Than those ordain'd them by the Lord's Eleven.
+
+
+v.
+
+I would approach thee with a master's tread
+  And claim thy hand and have the service read
+By youthful priests resplendent every one;
+And in thy frame the blood of thee would run
+As warm and sound as wine of Syracuse.
+And all that day the birds would bear the news
+  In far directions, and the meadow-flowers
+Would dream thereof, love-laden, in the dews.
+
+
+vi.
+
+Then, by magnetic force,--the greatest known
+  This side the tomb,--I would athwart the stone
+Of thy white body, in a trice of time,
+Call forth thy soul, and woo thee to the chime
+Of tinkling bells, and make thee half afraid,
+And half aggrieved, to find thyself array'd
+  In such enthralment, and in such attire,
+In sight of one whose will should not be stay'd.
+
+
+vii.
+
+And, like Pygmalion, I would claim anon
+  A bride's submission; and my talk thereon
+Would not perplex thee; for the sense of life
+Would warm thy heart, and urge thee to the strife
+Of lip with lip, and kiss with pulsing kiss,
+Which gives the clue to all we know of bliss,
+  And all we know of heights we long to climb
+Beyond the boundaries of the grave's abyss.
+
+
+viii.
+
+The dear old deeds chivàlrous once again
+  Would find fulfilment; and the curse of Cain
+Which fell on woman, as on men it fell,
+Would fly from us, as at a sorcerer's spell,
+And leave us wiser than the sophists are
+Who love not folly. Night should not debar,
+  Nor day dissuade us, from those ecstacies
+That have Anacreon's fame for guiding-star.
+
+
+ix.
+
+Aye! thou wouldst kneel and seek in me apace
+  A transient shelter for thine amorous face
+Which then I'd screen; and thou to me wouldst turn
+With awe-struck eyes, and cling to me and yearn,
+With sighs full tender and a touch of fear.
+And, like a bird which knows that spring is near,
+  And, after spring, the summer of sweet days,
+Thou wouldst attune thy love-notes in mine ear.
+
+
+x.
+
+Or, fraught with feelings near akin to hate,
+  Thou wouldst denounce me; and, like one elate,
+Thou wouldst entwine me in thine arms so white,
+As soldier-nymphs, with rapt and raging sight,
+Made war with spearsmen in the vales of song,
+The vales of Sparta where, for right or wrong,
+  The gods were potent, and, for beauty's sake,
+Upheld the tourneys of the fair and strong.
+
+
+xi.
+
+I would not seem too wilful in the heat
+  Of our encounter, or with sighs repeat
+Too fierce a vow. I would throughout confess
+Thy murderous mirth, thy conquering loveliness,
+And then subdue thee! Tears would not avail
+Nor prayer, nor praise; and, flush'd the while or pale,
+  Thou shouldst be mine, my hostage in the night,
+Without the option of a moment's bail.
+
+
+xii.
+
+Thou shouldst be mine! My hopes, from first to last,
+  Would win their way; and, lithe and love-aghast,
+And all unnerv'd, thou wouldst, as in a dream
+Entreat my pardon! I would callous seem
+To thine out-yearning. I would cast on thee
+A questioning look, and then, upon my knee,
+I would surrender to that face of thine
+Which is the great world's wonder unto me.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+O Heaven! could this be done, and I fulfil
+  One half my wish, and curb thee to my will,
+I were a prompter and a prouder man
+Than earth has known since light-foot lovers ran
+For Atalanta, lov'd of men and boys.
+I were a kaiser then, a king of joys,
+  And fit to play with high-begotten pomps
+As children play with pebbles or with toys.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+O Golden Hair! O Gladness of an Hour
+  Made flesh and blood! O beauteous Human Flower
+Too sweet to pluck, and yet, though seeming-cold,
+Ordain'd to love! I pray thee, as of old,
+Be kind to me. I saw thee yesternight,
+And for an instant I was urged to plight
+  My troth again; for in thy face I saw
+What seem'd a smile evoked for my delight.
+
+
+xv.
+
+Re-grant thy favour! Take me by the hand
+  And lead me back again to thine own land,
+The nook supreme, the sanctum in the glen
+Where pixies walk,--unknown to peevish men
+And shrew-like women whom no faith uplifts!
+Show me the place where Nature keeps the gifts
+  She most approves, and where the song-birds dwell,
+And I'll forego the land of little thrifts.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+The moon is mother and the sun is sire
+  Of those young planets which, with infant fire,
+Have late been found in regions too remote
+For quicklier search; and these, in time, will dote
+And whirl and wanton in the realms of space.
+For there are comets in the nightly chase
+  Who see strange things untalk'd of by the bards;
+And earth herself has found a trysting-place.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+And so 'tis clear that sun and moon and stars
+  Are link'd by love! The marriage-feast of Mars
+Was fixt long since. 'Tis Venus whom he weds.
+'Tis she alone for whom he gaily treads
+His path of splendour; and of Saturn's ring
+He knows the symbol, and will have, in spring,
+  A night-betrothal, near the Southern Cross;
+And all the stars will pause thereat and sing.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+What wonder, then, what wonder if to-day
+  I, too, assert my right, in roundelay,
+To talk of rings and posies and the vows
+That wait on marriage? 'Tis the wild carouse
+Of soul with soul athwart the sense of touch.
+'Tis this uplifts us when, with fever-clutch,
+  The world would claim us; and our hopes revive
+In spite of fears that daunt us over-much.
+
+
+xix.
+
+Lips may be coy; but eyes are quick, at times,
+  To note the throbbings that are hot as crimes,
+And fond as flutterings of the wings of doves.
+For he is blind indeed who, when he loves,
+Doubts all he sees:--the flickering of a smile,
+The Parthian glance, the nod that, for a while,
+  Outbids Elysium, and is half a jest,
+And half a truth, to tempt us and beguile.
+
+
+xx.
+
+Thine eyes have told me things I dare not speak;
+  And I will trust the track they bid me seek,
+Yea, though it lead me to the gates of death!
+The wind is labouring:--it is out of breath;
+Belike for scampering up the hill so fast
+To say all's well with thee; and, down the blast,
+  I seem to hear the sounds of serenades
+That swell from out the song-fields of the past.
+
+
+[Illustration: cherubs]
+
+
+
+
+Seventh Litany.
+
+STELLA MATUTINA.
+
+
+Seventh Litany.
+
+Stella Matutina.
+
+
+i.
+
+Arise, fair Phoebus! and with looks serene
+  Survey the world which late the orbèd Queen
+Did pave with pearl to please enamour'd swains.
+Arise! Arise! The Dark is bound in chains,
+And thou'rt immortal, and thy throne is here
+To sway the seasons, and to make it clear
+  How much we need thee, O thou silent god!
+That art the crown'd controller of the year.
+
+
+ii.
+
+And while the breezes re-construct for thee
+  The shimmering clouds; and while, from lea to lea,
+The great earth reddens with a maid's delight,
+Behold! I bring to thee, as yesternight,
+My subject song. Do thou protect apace
+My peerless one, my Peri with the face
+  That is a marvel to the minds of men,
+And like a flower for humbleness of grace.
+
+
+iii.
+
+The earth which loves thee, or I much have err'd,
+  The glad, green earth which waits, as for a word,
+The sound of thee, up-shuddering through the morn,
+The restive earth is pleased when Day is born,
+And soon will take each separate silent beam
+As proof of sex,--exulting in the dream
+  Of joys to come, and quicken'd and convuls'd,
+Year after year, by love's triumphant theme.
+
+
+iv.
+
+A thousand times the flowers in all the fields
+  Will bow to thee; and with their little shields
+The daisy-folk will muster on the plain.
+A thousand songs the birds will sing again,
+As sweet to hear as quiverings of a lute;
+And she I love will sing, for thy repute,
+  Full many a song. She sings when she but speaks;
+And when she's near the birds should all be mute.
+
+
+v.
+
+O my Belovèd! from thy curtain'd bed
+  Arise, rejoice, uplift thy golden head,
+And be an instant, while I muse on this,
+As nude as statues, and as good to kiss
+As dear St. Agnes when she met her death,
+Unclad and pure and patient of her breath,
+  And with the grace of God for wedding-gown,
+As many an ancient story witnesseth.
+
+
+vi.
+
+The bath, the plunge, the combing of the hair,
+  All this I view,--a sight beyond compare
+Since Daphne died in all the varied charms
+Of her chaste body,--rounded regal arms,
+And shape supreme, too fair for human gaze,
+But not too fair to win the mirror's praise
+  That throbs to see thee in thy déshabille
+And loves thee well through all the nights and days.
+
+
+vii.
+
+I see thee thus in fancy, as in books
+  A man may see the naïads of the brooks;--
+As one entranced by potions aptly given
+May see the angels where they walk in Heaven,
+And may not greet them in their high estate.
+For who shall guess the riddle wrought of Fate
+  Till he be dead? And who that lives a span
+Shall thwart the Future where it lies in wait?
+
+
+viii.
+
+And now to-day a word I dare not write
+  Starts to my lips, as when a baffled knight
+Witholds a song which fain he would repeat;
+For lo! the sense thereof is passing sweet.
+And, like a cup that's full, my heart is fill'd
+With new desires and quiverings new-distill'd
+  From old delights; and all my pulses throb
+As at the touch of dreams divinely-will'd.
+
+
+ix.
+
+Who talks of comfort when he sees thee not
+  And feels no fragrance of the happy lot
+Which violets feel, when call'd upon to lie
+On thy white breast? And who with amorous eye
+Looks at the dear tomb of the shuddering flowers,
+The two-fold tomb where daintily for hours
+  They droop and muse,--who looks, I say, at these
+And will not own the witchery of thy powers?
+
+
+x.
+
+Who speaks of glory and the force of love,
+  And thou not near, my maiden-minded dove!
+With all the coyness, all the beauty-sheen,
+Of thy rapt face? A fearless virgin-queen,--
+A queen of peace art thou,--and on thy head
+The golden light of all thy hair is shed
+  Most nimbus-like and most suggestive, too,
+Of youthful saints enshrined and garlanded.
+
+
+xi.
+
+Thou'rt Nature's own; and when a word of thine
+  Rings on the air, and when the Voice Divine
+We call the lark upfloats amid the blue,
+I know not which is which, for both are true,
+Both meant for Heaven, though foster'd here below.
+And when the silences around me flow,
+  I think of lilies and the face of thee
+Which hath compell'd my manhood's overthrow.
+
+
+xii.
+
+O blue-eyed Rapture with the radiant locks!
+  O thou for whom, athwart the fever-shocks
+Of life and death and misery and much sin,
+I'd sell salvation! There's a prize to win
+And thou'rt its voucher; there's a wonder-prize,
+Unknown till now beneath the vaulted skies,
+  And thou'rt its symbol; thou'rt its essence fair,
+Its full completion form'd adoring-wise!
+
+
+xiii.
+
+Yes, I will tell thee how I love thee best,
+  And all my thoughts of thee shall be confess'd
+And none withheld, not e'en the witless one
+Which late I harbor'd when the mounting sun
+Burst from a cloud,--the moon a mile away,
+As if in hiding from the lord of day,--
+  As if, at times, the moon were like thyself,
+And fear'd the semblance of a master's sway.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+I love thee dearly when thine eyes are dim
+  With unshed tears; for then they seem to swim
+In liquid blessedness, and unto me
+There comes the memory of a god's decree
+Which said of old:--"Be all men evermore,
+All men and maids whose hearts are passion-sore,
+  Acclaim'd in Heaven!" and all day long I muse
+On hope's divine and deathless prophet-lore.
+
+
+xv.
+
+I love thee when the soft endearing flush
+  Invades thy face, and dimples in the blush
+Bespeak attention,--as a rose's pout
+Absorbs the stillness when the sun is out,
+And all the air retains the glow thereof.
+In all the world there is not light enough
+  Nor sheen enough, all day, nor any warmth,
+Till thou be near me, arm'd with some rebuff!
+
+
+xvi.
+
+And how I love thee when thy startled eyes
+  Look out at me, enrapt in that surprise
+Which marks an epoch in the life I lead,--
+As if they guess'd the scope of Eros' creed
+And all the mirth and malice of his wiles.
+For it is wondrous when my Lady smiles,
+  And all the ground is holy where she treads,
+And all the air is thrill'd for many miles!
+
+
+xvii.
+
+In every mood of thine thou art my joy,
+  And, day by day, to shield thee from annoy,
+I'd do the deeds that slaves were bound unto
+With stabs for payment,--shuddering through and through
+With their much labour; and I'd deem it grand
+To die for thee if, after touch of hand,
+  I might but kiss thee as a lover doth;
+For I should then be king of all the land.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+But Father Time, old Time with Janus-face
+  Looks o'er the sphere, and sees no fitting place
+For thine acceptance; for the thrones of earth
+Are much too mean, and in thy maiden worth
+Thou'rt crown'd enough, and throned in very sooth
+More than the queens who lord it in their youth
+  O'er men's convictions; and He names thy name
+As one belov'd of Nature and of Truth.
+
+
+xix.
+
+He sees the nights, he sees the veering days,
+  The sweet spring season with its hymn of praise,
+The summer, frondage-proud, the autumn pale,
+The winter worn with withering of the gale,--
+All this he sees; and now, to-day, in June,
+He, too, recalls that rapturous afternoon
+  When all the fields and flowers were like a dream,
+And all the winds the offshoot of a tune.
+
+
+xx.
+
+So I will cease to clamour for the past,
+  And seek suspension of my doubts at last,
+In some new way till Fate becomes my friend.
+I will re-gain the right to re-defend
+The love I bear to thee, for good or ill.
+For though, 'tis said, our griefs have power to kill,
+  Mine let me live, in mine unworthiness,
+That, spurn'd of thee, my lips may praise thee still!
+
+
+[Illustration: cherubs]
+
+
+
+
+Eighth Litany.
+
+DOMINA EXAUDI.
+
+
+Eighth Litany.
+
+Domina Exaudi.
+
+
+i.
+
+It seems a year, and more, since last we met,
+  Since roseate spring repaid, in part, its debt
+To thy bright eyes, and o'er the lowlands fair
+Made daffodils so like thy golden hair
+That I, poor wretch, have kiss'd them on my knees!
+Forget-Me-Nots peep out beneath the trees
+  So like thine eyes that I have question'd them,
+And thought thee near, though viewless on the breeze.
+
+
+ii.
+
+It seems a year; and yet, when all is told,
+  'Tis but a week since I was re-enroll'd
+Among thy friends. How fairy-like the scene!
+How gay with lamps! How fraught with tender sheen
+Of life and languor! I was thine alone:--
+Alert for thee,--intent to catch the tone
+  Of thy sweet voice,--and proud to be alive
+To call to heart a peace for ever flown.
+
+
+iii.
+
+Had I not vext thee, as a monk in prayer
+  May vex a saint by musing, unaware,
+On evil things? A saint is hard to move,
+And quick to chide, and slow,--as I can prove,--
+To do what's just; and yet, in thy despite,
+We met again, we too, at dead of night;
+  And I was hopeful in my love of thee,
+And thou superb, and matchless, in the light.
+
+
+iv.
+
+I felt distraught from gazing over-much
+  At thy great beauty; and I fear'd to touch
+The dainty hand which Envy's self hath praised.
+I fear'd to greet thee; and my soul was dazed
+And self-convicted in its new design;
+For I was mad to hope to call thee mine,
+  Aye! mad as he who claims a Virgin's love
+Because his lips have praised her at a shrine.
+
+
+v.
+
+I saw thee there in all the proud array
+  Of thy young charms,--as if a summer's day
+Had leapt to life and made itself a queen,--
+As if the sylphs, remembering what had been,
+Had mission'd thee, from out the world's romance,
+To stir my pulse, and thrill me with a glance:
+  And once again, allow'd, though undesired,
+I did become thy partner in the dance.
+
+
+vi.
+
+I bow'd to thee. I drew thee to my side,
+  As one may seize a wrestler in his pride
+To try conclusions,--and I felt the rush
+Of my heart's blood suffuse me in a blush
+That told its tale. But what my tongue would tell
+Was spent in sighs, as o'er my spirit fell
+  The silvery cadence of thy lips' assent;
+And every look o'er-ruled me like a spell.
+
+
+vii.
+
+O devil's joy of dancing, when a tune
+  Speeds us to Heaven, and night is at the noon
+Of all its frolic, all its wild desire!
+O thrall of rapt illusions when we tire
+Of coy reserve, and all the moments pass
+As pass the visions in a magic glass,
+  And every step is shod with ecstacy,
+And every smile is fleck'd with some Alas!
+
+
+viii.
+
+Was it a moment or a merry span
+  Of years uncounted when convulsion ran
+Right through the veins of me, to make me blest,
+And yet accurst, in that revolving quest
+Known as a waltz,--if waltz indeed it were
+And not a fluttering dream of gauze and vair
+  And languorous eyes? I scarce can muse thereon
+Without a pang too sweet for me to bear!
+
+
+ix.
+
+By right of music, for a fleeting term,
+  Mine arms enwound thee and I held thee firm
+There on my breast,--so near, yet so remote,
+So close about me that I seem'd to float
+In sunlit rapture,--touch'd I know not how
+By some suggestion of a deeper vow
+  Than men are 'ware of when, on Glory's track,
+They kneel to angels with uplifted brow.
+
+
+x.
+
+And lo! abash'd, I do recall to mind
+  All that is past:--the yearning undefined,--
+The baulk'd confession that was like a sob--
+The sound of singing and the gurgling throb
+Of lute and viol,--meant for many things
+But most for misery; and a something clings
+  Close to my heart that is not wantonness,
+Though, wanton-like, it warms me while it stings.
+
+
+xi.
+
+The night returns,--that night of all the nights!
+  And I am dower'd anew with such delights
+As memory feeds on; for I walk'd with thee
+In moonlit gardens, and there flew to me
+A flower-like moth, a pinion'd daffodil,
+From Nature's hand; and, out beyond the hill,
+  There rose a star I joy'd to look upon
+Because it seem'd the star of thy good will.
+
+
+xii.
+
+We sat beneath the trees, as well thou know'st,
+  Within an arbour which a summer's boast
+Had made ambrosial; and we loiter'd there
+Some little space, the while upon the air
+Uprose the fragrance of uncounted flowers.
+Ah me! how weird a tryste was that of ours!
+  And how the moon look'd down, so lurid-warm,
+Athwart the stillness of the frondage-towers!
+
+
+xiii.
+
+I seem'd to feel thy breath upon my cheek;
+  I vainly searched for words I long'd to speak,
+But could not utter lest the sound thereof
+Should scare away the elves that wait on love.
+And when I spoke to thee 'twas of the spot
+Where we were seated,--things that matter'd not,--
+  Uncared for things,--the weather,--the new laws!
+And, sudden-loud, the wind assail'd the grot.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+A little bird was warbling overhead
+  As if to twit me with the word unsaid
+Which he, more daring, when the sun was high,
+Trill'd to his mate! He knew the tender "why"
+Of many a pleading, and he knew, meseems,
+The very key-note to the lyric dreams
+  Of all true poets when, by love impell'd,
+They search the secrets of the woods and streams.
+
+
+xv.
+
+'Tis sure that summer, when she rear'd the bower
+  And arched the roof and gave it all the dower
+Of all its leaves, and all the crannies small
+Where wrens look through,--'tis sure that, after all,
+Summer was kind, and meant to make for me
+A shriving-place,--a lighthouse on the sea
+  Of all that verdure,--that, beneath the stars,
+I might receive one quickening glance from thee.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+Oh! had I dared to whisper in thine ear
+  My heart-full wish, undaunted by the fear
+Of some rebuke:--a flush of thy fair face,
+A lifted hand to tell me that the place
+Was fairy-fenced, and guarded as by flame,--
+Oh! had I dared to court the word of blame
+  That's good for me, no doubt! at every turn,
+My life to-day were chasten'd by the same.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+But I was conscious of a sudden ban
+  Hurl'd from the zenith. I was like the man
+Who scaled Olympus, with intent to bring
+New fire therefrom, and dared not face the King
+Of thought and thunder. I was full prepared
+For thy displeasure,--for the past was bared
+  To mine on-looking; and, with faltering tongue,
+I left my languorous meanings undeclared.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+O lost Occasion! what a thing art thou:--
+  A three-fold key,--the when, the where, the how,--
+The past, the present and the future tense,--
+All thrown aside. For what? A witless sense
+Of some compunction! When the hour is bold
+Reason is shy, and rapture, seeming-cold,
+  Makes mute surrender of its dearest chance,
+And all for fear of doubts that might be told.
+
+
+xix.
+
+But could we meet, oh! could we meet again
+  On some such night, unseen upon the plain,
+I'd rob thee, Lady! of a tardy smile.
+I would do this; and, for a breathing-while,
+I would assert a sinner's right to pray,
+A sinner's right to choose, as best he may,
+  His patron-saint; and I would kneel to thee,
+And call thee mine, and dote on thee for aye!
+
+
+xx.
+
+And then in summer, when the hours are mad,
+  And all the flow'rets in the fields are glad,
+And all the breezes, like demented things
+Outspeed the birds with sunlight on their wings,
+In summer, aye! in summer's gracious time,
+I might perchance be pardon'd for the crime
+  Of my much love, and win thy benison
+Ere yet the year has reached its golden prime!
+
+
+[Illustration: CHERUB]
+
+
+
+
+Ninth Litany.
+
+LILIUM INTER SPINAS.
+
+
+Ninth Litany.
+
+Lilium inter Spinas.
+
+
+i.
+
+Dearest and best of maidens, whom the Fates
+  have dower'd with beauty, whom the glory-gates
+Have shown so splendid in my waking sight,
+Is't well, thou syren! thus to haunt the night
+And grant no mercy, none from week to week
+All through the year? Is't well my soul to seek
+  And shun my body? Is't throughout ordain'd
+That thou shouldst spurn a love so tender-meek?
+
+
+ii.
+
+It is my joy to serve thee, 'tis my pride
+  To own my follies, though anew denied
+The chance of wisdom, and for this, who knows?
+I shall be counted, ere the season's close,
+A time-perverter. Yes! I shall be shamed,
+And frown'd upon, and day by day proclaim'd
+  A foe to virtue, though, in seeking thee
+I seek the goal that Virtue's self hath named.
+
+
+iii.
+
+O Lily mine! O Lily tipp'd with gold
+  And welkin-eyed for angels to behold
+When down on earth! Is't well to stand apart
+And gaze at me and gently break my heart
+Without one word? Is't well to seem alwày
+So grieved to see me, when, at fall of day,
+  Thou dost accept the reverence of mine eyes,
+But not the homage that my lips would pay?
+
+
+iv.
+
+Oh, give me back again, at midnight hour,
+  As in the circuit of that starlit bower,
+The right to talk with thee, and be thy friend,--
+The right, in some wild way, to make an end
+Of my submission, or to re-bestow
+My troth on thee,--despite the overthrow
+  Of all my dreams, that were my constant care,
+Though less to thee than flakes of alien snow.
+
+
+v.
+
+I will unveil my meanings one by one,
+  And tell thee why the bird that loves the sun
+Loves not the moon, though conscious of her fame.
+For he's the soul of truth, in his acclaim,
+And knows not treason! And of like intent
+Are all my yearnings, too, when I lament.
+  And, though I say it, there's no troubadour
+Has lov'd as I, since Cupid's bow was bent.
+
+
+vi.
+
+I have been wed in sleep, and thou hast been
+  Mine own true bride,--the swooning summer-queen
+Of my heart-throbs. I have been wed in jest!
+I have been taken wildly to thy breast,
+And then repell'd, and made to feel the ire
+Of eager eyes that have the strange desire
+  To rack my soul, a-tremble in the dark,
+But not the will to aid me to aspire.
+
+
+vii.
+
+I should have died the instant that I heard
+  Thy whisper'd vow in slumber,--when a word
+Made me thy master, for I did receive
+Thy full surrender, and I'll not believe
+That all was false; or that my dreaming-power
+Was given for nought. The Future may devour
+  The facts of earth, but not its phantasies,
+And not the dreams we dream from hour to hour.
+
+
+viii.
+
+Oh, thou'lt confess that love from man to maid
+  Is more than kingdoms,--more than light and shade
+In sky-built gardens where the minstrels dwell,
+And more than ransom from the bonds of Hell.
+Thou wilt, I say, admit the truth of this,
+And half relent that, shrinking from a kiss,
+  Thou didst consign me to mine own disdain,
+Athwart the raptures of a vision'd bliss.
+
+
+ix.
+
+I'll seek no joy that is not link'd with thine,
+  No touch of hope, no taste of holy wine,
+And, after death, no home in any star
+That is not shared by thee, supreme, afar,
+As here thou'rt first and foremost of all things!
+Glory is thine and gladness and the wings
+  That wait on thought when, in thy spirit-sway,
+Thou dost invest a realm unknown to kings.
+
+
+x.
+
+I will accept of thee a poison-bowl
+  And drink the dregs thereof,--aye! to the soul,--
+And sound thy praises with my latest breath!
+I was a pilgrim bound for Nazareth,
+But when I knew thee, when I touched thy hand,
+I changed my purpose; and to-day I stand
+  Thine amorous vassal, though denounced afresh
+And warn'd away, unkiss'd, from Edenland.
+
+
+xi.
+
+O flower unequall'd here from morn to morn,
+  Is't well, bethink thee, with a rose's thorn
+To deck thyself, thou lily! and to seem
+So irresponsive to my passion-dream?
+Is't a caprice of thine to look so proud,
+And so severe, athwart the shining cloud
+  Of thy long hair? And shall I never learn
+How least to grieve thee when my vows are vow'd?
+
+
+xii.
+
+The full perfection of thy face is such
+  That, like a child's, it seems to know the touch
+Of some glad hour that God has smiled upon.
+There is a whiteness whiter than the swan,
+A singing sweeter than the linnet's note.
+But there is nothing whiter than thy throat,
+  And nothing sweeter than thy tender voice
+When, love-attuned, it skyward seems to float.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+Lily and rose in one! To find thy peer
+  Exceeds belief, all through the varying year,
+For chance thereof, and hope thereof, is none.
+There comes no rival to the rising sun,
+And none to thee!--no rival to the moon
+That sets in Venice on the far lagoon,
+  And none to thee, thou marvel of the months,
+That art the cynosure of night and noon!
+
+
+xiv.
+
+Yes, I will hope. I will not cease to turn
+  My thoughts to thee, and cry to thee, and yearn
+As one in Hell may lift enamour'd eyes
+To some sweet soul beyond the central skies
+Whose face has slain him! For 'tis true, I swear:
+I have been murder'd by thy golden hair,
+  And by the brightness of those fringèd orbs
+That are at once my joy and my despair.
+
+
+xv.
+
+Winter is wild; but spring will come again;
+  For there's compunction in the fever-pain
+That earth endures when, clamorous down the steep,
+The wind out-blows the curse it cannot keep.
+And so, belike, thy scorn of me may change
+To something fairer than the fated range
+  Of dole, and doubt, and pity, and reproof;
+And then my sighs may cease to seem so strange.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+For thou and I will meet and not be foes,
+  E'en as the rue may stand beside the rose
+And not affront it,--as a lonely tree
+May guard a shrine and not upon the lea
+Be deem'd obtrusive,--as an errant knight
+May serve the sovereign of his soul's delight
+  And not, thereby, be deem'd of less account
+Than he who keeps her daily in his sight.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+Reject me not that in the world of men,
+  Among the wielders of the sword and pen
+I have, as 'twere, detractors by the score,--
+Reject me not for faults that I deplore
+And fain would alter,--though, if I were wise,
+I'd blunt the edge thereof in some disguise
+  Approved of thee! For I've a kind of hope
+That we'll be friends again ere summer dies.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+If this be true I'll greet thee with such fire
+  That thou wilt throb thereat, as throbs a lyre,
+And give thine answer, too, without restraint,
+And neither frown at me nor fear a taint
+In my much zeal, that knows not any pause
+But, night and day, is constant to the laws
+  Of its own making, and is fain to prove
+How leagued it is throughout to Honor's cause.
+
+
+xix.
+
+I will conceal from thee no thought of mine.
+  All will be clear as signing of a sign
+On marriage-scrips; and, though I tell thee so,
+The seas and streams of earth shall cease to flow
+Ere thou shalt find, in this world or the next,
+A love so proud, a faith so firmly sex'd,
+  As this of mine. For thou'rt the polar star
+To which I turn as minstrel to his text.
+
+
+xx.
+
+But woe's the hour! My heart is wounded sore,
+  And soon may cease to take, as heretofore,
+Such keen delight in tears that comfort not,
+But evermore do seem to leave a blot
+On sorrow's teaching! Shall I muse thereon
+One season more, till hope and faith be gone?
+  Or must I look for comfort up in Heaven
+And then be slain by thee as night by dawn?
+
+
+[Illustration: cherubs]
+
+
+
+
+Tenth Litany.
+
+GLORIA IN EXCELSIS.
+
+
+Tenth Litany.
+
+Gloria in Excelsis.
+
+
+i.
+
+O Love! O Lustre of the sunlit earth
+  That knows thy step and revels in the worth
+Of thy much beauty! Is't thy will anew,
+Famed as thou art, to marvel that I sue
+With such persistence, and in such unrest
+Amid the frenzies of my passion-quest?
+  Wilt look ungently, and without a tear,
+On all the pangs I bear at thy behest?
+
+
+ii.
+
+Morning and eve I cease not, when I kneel
+  To my Redeemer for my spirit's weal
+And for my body's,--as becomes a man,--
+Morning and eve I cease not in the span
+Of all my days, O thou Unconquer'd One!
+To pray for thee, and do what may be done
+  To re-acquire the friendship I have lost,
+Which is the holiest thing beneath the sun.
+
+
+iii.
+
+For what is fame that with so loud a voice
+  O'ersways the nations? What the random choice
+Of sight and sound which makes the place we fill
+So fraught with good, so redolent of ill?
+Where is the thunderstorm of yesternight
+That shook the clouds? And where the levin's blight
+  That spake of chaos and the Judgment Day?
+And where the wisdom of a king's delight?
+
+
+iv.
+
+Could I be kiss'd of thee, or crown'd of men,
+  I'd choose the kiss. I'd be ordainèd then
+Lord of myself, and not the slave I seem
+To each new doubt. Our tryste was like a dream
+And yet 'twas true. For oft, by wonder-chance,
+We find the path to many a bright romance,
+  And many a tilt and tourney of dear love
+In which the brave are vanquish'd by a glance.
+
+
+v.
+
+To lie alone with thee one little hour,
+  And cling to thee as flower may cling to flower,
+With no rough thought beyond the peace thereof,--
+To be thy comrade, and to don and doff
+The little chain that hangs about thy neck,--
+To do all this, my Fair One! and to fleck
+  Thine eyes with kisses, were a righteous deed,
+And not a thing for Love to hold in check.
+
+
+vi.
+
+Nay, there are dimples which I long to taste,
+  And there's a girdle fit for Phoebe's waist
+Which I would loosen; for I have the skill
+To handle lilies; and, by Venus' will,
+I'd handle thee, and comfort thee therein.
+For love's a sacrament I'd die to win,
+  And not a toy nor yet a subterfuge;
+And not a pitfall for the feet of sin.
+
+
+vii.
+
+The searching suddenness of thy blue eyes,
+  The flash thereof, the fire that in them lies,--
+All this I yearn to,--all the soul of thee
+Shown in thy looks, as though to solace me
+In some disaster portion'd out as mine.
+Where thou abidest, where thy limbs recline,
+  Where thou'rt absorb'd in silence or in prayer,
+There stands a throne, there gleams a fairy shrine.
+
+
+viii.
+
+I am, indeed, more subject to thy sway
+  Than trees are subject, in their tender way,
+To earth's great king revolving round the sphere.
+I am thy suffering servant all the year;
+And when I wake thy name is on my lips,
+And when I sleep I feel thy finger-tips
+  Press'd on mine eyes, as if thy wraith were there,
+To save my soul from night's entire eclipse.
+
+
+ix.
+
+Till I have heard from thee my doom of death
+  I shall be proud to serve thee with my breath,
+And with my labour, and be thine withal
+As Man is God's,--content with any thrall
+That's bound in thee; content with any lot
+That's link'd with thine, in some secluded spot
+  Which thou hast lov'd, O Lady! in the past,
+And where remorse and wrong will find us not.
+
+
+x.
+
+To know thee fair, ah God! how sweet is this;
+  To find thee wavering, and to grasp in bliss
+Only the dream of thee, how sad the while!
+And yet, by reason of a moment's smile,
+How grand to hope, how gracious to forget!
+Thou false to me? Thou heedless of a debt
+  Of love's incurring? Nay, by Juno's crown,
+Thy snow-white hand shall be my guerdon yet!
+
+
+xi.
+
+The spirit-love that leads us to the soul
+  Athwart the body as its fairest goal,--
+The love that lives in languor undefined
+And yet is strong,--the love that can be kind
+And yet aggressive as a soldier's blade,
+Keen to the hilt, entranced and not afraid,--
+  This is the love that will survive the death
+Of all endowments which the years have made.
+
+
+xii.
+
+Wilt frown at this? Wilt chide me? Wilt appeal,
+  As some are wont, when lovers, out of zeal,
+O'erstep the bounds of wisdom which hath ceased
+To win men's praise? The Matins of the East
+Sung by the lark,--the Credo of the Cloud
+Which oft he sings in confirmation proud
+  Of his great love,--all this were mine excuse
+If I could sing as he, so dawn-endow'd.
+
+
+xiii.
+
+For I'd be welcome, then, where'er thou art,
+  And gladden thee, and play as prompt a part
+As Romeo play'd with Juliet at his breast.
+Who loves not love, who hates to be caress'd,
+Is Nature's bane; and I'll denounce him, too.
+For he's a foe to all that's just and true
+  In earth and Heaven; and when he seeks a joy,
+His quest shall fail,--his hand shall miss the clue.
+
+
+xiv.
+
+We know these things. We know how dark a word
+  May let in light, and how the smallest bird
+May mix the morn with music till we think
+The fire-lit air is wine for us to drink,--
+And every drop salvation,--every sound
+A Muse's whisper,--all the flower-full ground
+  A fancy-carpet fit for knights to tread
+When on their way to Arthur's Table Round.
+
+
+xv.
+
+A peevish fool is he who will not raise
+  His hands in prayer, among the danger-days
+That come to all; for he, when waxen old,
+Will search the past and find it callous-cold;
+And all the future, too, will freeze for him.
+Nor shall he weep aright when tears bedim
+  His desperate, doleful eyes that know not faith;
+And he shall hear no chants of cherubim.
+
+
+xvi.
+
+I was bewitch'd of late! My soul had met
+  Some fearful doom; and there had dropt a threat,--
+A curse belike,--from lips of Atropos.
+There had been done a deed of spirit-loss
+Which did o'erwhelm me as I paused thereat.
+But now 'tis shunn'd; and where a Tremor sat
+  Now sits a Hope; and where a gulf was seen
+Now stands a mount as blest as Ararat.
+
+
+xvii.
+
+The rose is silent, and the lily dumb
+  For Man alone. He sees them when they come
+Glad from the soil; but what they mean thereby,
+And what they dream of, when they front the sky,
+Eludes his learning. But the birds can tell.
+Moths talk to flowers; and breezes in the dell
+  Hear more confessions than we men reveal;
+And oaks and cedars love each other well.
+
+
+xviii.
+
+In woodland places where the grass is lit
+  With lamp-like flowers, I seem to see thee flit
+On azure wings, as if to bless the glade;
+For, everywhere, thy form in shine and shade
+Doth come and go, conversant, as I deem,
+With Nature's whims; for thou'rt of great esteem
+  In fairy haunts; and elves and fays confess
+How sweet thou art, my Love! and how supreme.
+
+
+xix.
+
+Diana's self was not more virgin-proud.
+  The maiden-moon, new-seated on a cloud
+That seems her throne where she receives the stars,--
+The moon who holds her court beyond the jars
+Of land and sea,--the moon, the vestal moon,
+Has kept thee cold since the transcendant noon
+  Of that wild day when I thy hand did claim,
+And when thy lips refusèd me their boon.
+
+
+xx.
+
+But thoughts are free; and mine have found at last
+  Their apt solution; and, from out the past,
+There seems to shine as 'twere a beacon-fire;
+And all the land is lit with large desire
+Of lambent glory; all the quivering sea
+Is big with waves that wait the Morn's decree,
+  As I, thy vassal, wait thy beckoning smile
+Athwart the splendors of my dreams of Thee!
+
+
+Amen!
+
+
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