diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/66002-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/66002-0.txt | 4903 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 4903 deletions
diff --git a/old/66002-0.txt b/old/66002-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2748716..0000000 --- a/old/66002-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4903 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of An Epic of Women and Other Poems, by Arthur -W. E. O'Shaugnessy - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: An Epic of Women and Other Poems - -Author: Arthur W. E. O'Shaugnessy - -Release Date: August 6, 2021 [eBook #66002] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Tim Lindell, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EPIC OF WOMEN AND OTHER -POEMS *** - - - - - AN EPIC OF WOMEN - AND - OTHER POEMS. - - BY - ARTHUR W. E. O’SHAUGHNESSY. - - LONDON: - JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, PICCADILLY. - 1870. - - - - - I Dedicate this Book - TO MY FRIEND, - JOHN PAYNE. - TENTS. - - - PAGE - -EXILE 9 - -A NEGLECTED HARP 13 - -THREE FLOWERS OF MODERN GREECE - -I. IANOULA 17 - -II. THE FAIR MAID AND THE SUN 20 - -III. THE CYPRESS 23 - -A PRECIOUS URN 25 - -SERAPHITUS 26 - -THE LOVER 34 - -A WHISPER FROM THE GRAVE 46 - -BISCLAVARET 55 - -THOUGHT 65 - -THE STORY OF THE KING 66 - -PALM FLOWERS 71 - -AN EPIC OF WOMEN. - -I. CREATION 81 - -II. THE WIFE OF HEPHÆSTUS 86 - -III. CLEOPATRA, 1 93 - -IV. CLEOPATRA, 2 98 - -V. THE DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS 105 - -VI. HELEN 133 - -VII. A TROTH FOR ETERNITY 141 - -SONNET (1867) 162 - - -DEATH 165 - -THE FOUNTAIN OF TEARS 166 - -LOVE AFTER DEATH 170 - -SOWN SEED 171 - -A DISCORD 174 - -GALANTERIE 175 - -THE GLORIOUS LADY 178 - -LOST BLISSES 190 - -THE SPECTRE OF THE PAST 192 - -A FADING FACE 203 - -THE HEART’S QUESTIONS 204 -(Chopin’s Nocturne, Op. 15, No. 3.) - -BARCAROLLE 207 - -THE MINER: BALLAD 211 - -A WASTED LAND 214 - -CHARMED MOMENTS 217 -(Chopin’s Nocturne, Op. 37, No. 1.) - -A LIFE-TOMB 219 - -THE SLAVE OF APOLLO 221 - -THE POET’S GRAVE 227 - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - -EXILE. - -Des voluptés intérieures - Le sourire mystérieux. - VICTOR HUGO. - - -A common folk I walk among; - I speak dull things in their own tongue: -But all the while within I hear - A song I do not sing for fear-- -How sweet, how different a thing! - And when I come where none are near -I open all my heart and sing. - -I am made one with these indeed, -And give them all the love they need-- - Such love as they would have of me: - But in my heart--ah, let it be!-- -I think of it when none is nigh-- - There is a love they shall not see; -For it I live--for it will die. - -And oft-times, though I share their joys, -And seem to praise them with my voice, - Do I not celebrate my own, - Ay, down in some far inward zone -Of thoughts in which they have no part? - Do I not feel--ah, quite alone -With all the secret of my heart? - -O when the shroud of night is spread -On these, as Death is on the dead, - So that no sight of them shall mar - The blessèd rapture of a star-- -Then I draw forth those thoughts at will; - And like the stars those bright thoughts are; -And boundless seems the heart they fill: - -For every one is as a link; -And I enchain them as I think; - Till present, and remembered bliss, - And better, worlds on after this, -I have--led on from each to each - Athwart the limitless abyss-- -In some surpassing sphere I reach. - -I draw a veil across my face -Before I come back to the place - And dull obscurity of these; - I hide my face, and no man sees; -I learn to smile a lighter smile, - And change, and look just what they please. -It is but for a little while. - -I go with them; and in their sight -I would not scorn their little light, - Nor mock the things they hold divine; - But when I kneel before the shrine -Of some base deity of theirs, - I pray all inwardly to mine, -And send my soul up with my prayers: - -For I--ah, to myself I say-- -I have a heaven though far away; - And there my Love went long ago, - With all the things my heart loves so; -And there my songs fly, every one: - And I shall find them there I know -When this sad pilgrimage is done. - - - - -A NEGLECTED HARP. - - -O hushed and shrouded room! - O silence that enchains! -O me--of many melodies - The cold and voiceless tomb; -What sweet impassioned strains, -What fair unearthly things, -Sealed up in frozen cadences, -Are aching in my strings! - -Each time the setting sun, - At eve when all is still, -Doth reach a pale faint finger in - To touch them one by one; -O what an inward thrill -Of music makes them swell! -The prisoned song-pulse beats within -And almost breaks the spell. - -Each time the ghostly moon - Among the shadows gleams, -And leads them in a mournful dance - To some mysterious tune; -O then, indeed, it seems -Strange muffled tones repeat -The wail within me, and perchance -The measure of the feet. - -But often when the ring - Of some sweet voice is near, -Or past me the light garments brush - Soft as a spirit’s wing,-- -O, more than I can bear, -I feel, intense, the throb -Of some rich inward music gush -That comes out in a sob. - -For am I not--alas, - The quick days come and go-- -A weak and songless instrument - Through which the song-breaths pass? -I would a heart might know, -I would a hand might free -These wondrous melodies up-pent -And languishing in me. - - * * * * * - -A sharp strange music smote - The night.--In yon recess -The shrouded harp from all its strings - Gave forth a piercing note: -With that long bitterness -The stricken air still aches; -’Twas like the one true word that sings -Some poet whose heart breaks. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THREE FLOWERS OF MODERN GREECE. - - -I. - -IANOULA. - -O sisters! fairly have ye to rejoice, - Who of your weakness wed -With lordly might: yea, now I praise your choice. - As the vine clingeth with fair fingers spread -Over some dark tree-stem, - So on your goodly husbands with no dread -Ye cling, and your fair fingers hold on them. - -For godlike stature, and unchanging brow - Broad as the heaven above, -Yea, for fair mighty looks ye chose, I trow; - And prided you to see, in strivings rough, -Dauntless, their strong arms raised; - And little loth were ye to give your love -To husbands such as these whom all men praised. - -But I, indeed, of many wooers, took - None such for boast or stay, -But a pale lover with a sweet sad look: - The smile he wed me with was like some ray -Shining on dust of death; - And Death stood near him on my wedding day, -And blanched his forehead with a fatal breath. - -I loved to feel his weak arm lean on mine, - Yea, and to give him rest, -Bidding his pale and languid face recline - Softly upon my shoulder or my breast,-- -Thinking, alas, how sweet - To hold his spirit in my arms so press’d, -That even Death’s hard omens I might cheat. - -I found his drooping hand the warmest place - Here where my warm heart is; -I said, “Dear love, what thoughts are in thy face? - Has Death as fair a bosom, then, as this?” ---O sisters, do not start! - His cold lips answered with a fainting kiss, -And his hand struck its death chill to my heart. - - -II. - -THE FAIR MAID AND THE SUN. - -O sons of men, that toil, and love with tears! - -Know ye, O sons of men, the maid who dwells -Between the two seas at the Dardanelles? - Her face hath charmed away the change of years, -And all the world is fillèd with her spells. - -No task is hers for ever, but the play -Of setting forth her beauty day by day: - There in your midst, O sons of men that toil, -She laughs the long eternity away. - -The chains about her neck are many-pearled, -Rare gems are those round which her hair is curled; - She hath all flesh for captive, and for spoil, -The fruit of all the labour of the world. - -She getteth up and maketh herself bare, -And letteth down the wonder of her hair - Before the sun; the heavy golden locks -Fall in the hollow of her shoulders fair. - -She taketh from the lands, as she may please, -All jewels, and all corals from the seas; - She layeth them in rows upon the rocks; -Laugheth, and bringeth fairer ones than these. - -Five are the goodly necklaces that deck -The place between her bosom and her neck; - She passeth many a bracelet o’er her hands; -And, seeing she is white without a fleck, - -And, seeing she is fairer than the tide, -And of a beauty no man can abide-- - Proudly she standeth as a goddess stands, -And mocketh at the sun and sea for pride: - -And to the sea she saith: “O silver sea, -Fair art thou, but thou art not fair like me; - Open thy white-toothed dimpled mouths and try; -They laugh not the soft way I laugh at thee.” - -And to the sun she saith: “O golden sun, -Fierce is thy burning till the day is done; - But thou shalt burn mere grass and leaves, while I -Shall burn the hearts of men up everyone.” - -O fair and dreadful is the maid who dwells -Between the two seas at the Dardanelles: - As fair and dread as in the ancient years; -And still the world is fillèd with her spells, - -O sons of men, that toil, and love with tears! - - - - -III. - -THE CYPRESS. - - -O Ivory bird, that shakest thy wan plumes, - And dost forget the sweetness of thy throat - For a most strange and melancholy note-- -That wilt forsake the summer and the blooms - And go to winter in a place remote! - -The country where thou goest, Ivory bird! - It hath no pleasant nesting-place for thee; - There are no skies nor flowers fair to see, -Nor any shade at noon--as I have heard-- - But the black shadow of the Cypress tree. - -Cypress tree, it groweth on a mound; - And sickly are the flowers it hath of May, - Full of a false and subtle spell are they; -For whoso breathes the scent of them around, - He shall not see the happy Summer day. - -In June, it bringeth forth, O Ivory bird! - A winter berry, bitter as the sea; - And whoso eateth of it, woe is he-- -He shall fall pale, and sleep--as I have heard-- - Long in the shadow of the Cypress tree. - - - - -A PRECIOUS URN. - - -The great effulgence of the early days - Of one first summer, whose bright joys, it seems, - Have been to all my songs their golden themes; -The rose leaves gathered from the faded ways -I wandered in when they were all a-blaze - With living flowers and flame of the sunbeams; - And, more than all, that ending of my dreams -Divinely, in a dream-like thing,--the face -Of one belovèd lady once possest - In one long kiss that made my whole life burn: -What of all these remains to me?--At best, - A heap of fragrant ashes now, that turn - My heavy heart into a funeral urn -Which I have buried deep within my breast. - - - - -SERAPHITUS. - - -Alas! that we should not have known, - For all his strange ethereal calm, -And thoughts so little like our own - And presence like a shed-forth balm, -He was some Spirit from a zone - Of light, and ecstasy, and psalm, -Radiant and near about God’s throne: - Now he hath flown! - -The heaven did cleave on him alway; - And for what thing he chose to dwell -In a mere tenement of clay - With mortal seeming--who can tell? -But there in some unearthly way - He wrought, and, with an inner spell, -Miraculously did array - That house of clay. - -The very walls were in some sort - Made beautiful, with many a fresque -Or carven filigree of Thought, - Now seen a clear and statuesque -Accomplishment of dreams--now sought - Through many a lovely arabesque -And metaphor, that seemed to sport - With what it taught. - -Most bright and marvellously fair - Those things did seem to all mankind; -And some indeed, with no cold stare - Beholding them, could lift their mind -Through sweet transfigurement to share - Their inward light: the rest were blind, -And wondered much, yet had small care - Whence such things were. - -And, day by day, he did invent - --As though nought golden were enough, -In manner of an ornament-- - Some high chivalrous deed, above -All price, whereof the element - Was the most stainless ore of Love; -A boundless store of it he spent - With lavishment. - -And when therewith that house became - All in a strange sort glorified; -For through whole beauty, as of flame, - Those things, resplendent far and wide, -Did draw unto them great acclaim; - Lo, many a man there was who tried -With base alloys to do the same, - And gat men’s shame. - -But all about that house he set - A wondrous flowering thing--his speech, -That without ceasing did beget - Such fair unearthly blossoms, each -Seemed from some paradise, and wet - As with an angel’s tears, and each -Gave forth some long perfume to let - No man forget. - -A new delicious music erred - For ever through the devious ways -Tangled with blooming of each word; - As though in that enchanted maze -Some sweet and most celestial bird - Were caught, and, hid from every gaze, -Did there pour forth such song as stirred - All men who heard. - -Before him was perpetual birth - Of flowers whereof, aye, more and more, -The world begetteth a sad dearth; - And those rare balms man searcheth for, -Fair ecstasy, and the soul’s mirth: - Half grudgingly the angels bore -That one should waste on a lost earth - Things of such worth. - -It may be, with a strange delight, - After an age of gazing through -That mirror of things infinite - That well nigh burns the veil of blue -Drawn down between it and our sight-- - It may be, with a joy all new, -He sought the darkness and the light - Of day and night. - -It may be, that, upon some wave - Which through the incense-laden skies -Scarce forced its ripple, there once clave - A thin earth-fragrance--in such wise -It smote his sense and made him crave - For that strange sweet: maybe, likewise, -The leaves their subtle perfume gave - Up from some grave: - -And pleasant did it seem to heap - About the heart dim spells that lull -Profoundly between death and sleep, - To feel mid earthly soothings, dull -And sweet, upon the whole sense creep - The dream--life-long and wonderful, -That hath all souls of men to keep - Lest they should weep. - -But often, when there seemed to fall - Bright shadows of half-blindness, thin, -And like fine films wrought over all - The flashing sights of Heaven within; -While that fair perishable wall - Of flesh so barred and shut him in -That scarce a silver spirit-call - Reached him at all-- - -O then the Earth failed not to bring, - Indeed through many a day and eve-- -The strength of all her flowering - About him; nor forgot to weave, -With soft perpetual murmuring, - Her spells, that such a sweet way grieve, -And hold the heart to each fair thing, - Yea, with a sting: - -And, sometimes, with strange prevalence - He felt those dim enchantments float -Most soothingly upon his sense; - While faint in memory remote, -Brought down the heart knew not from whence, - The thought of heaven within him smote-- -And many a yearning did commence - Vague and intense-- - -Fair part of that unknown disease - Of dull material love, whereby -The luring flower-semblances - Of earthliness and death would try -To bind his heart beyond release - To each fair mortal sympathy, -That Death at length might wholly seize - Him with all these. - -And, surely, on some shining bed - Of flowers in full summer’s gleam; -Or when the autumn time had shed - Its wealth of perfume and its dream -On some rich eve--no thing of dread - To all his spirit did it seem, -To dream on, feeling sweet earth spread - Over his head. - - * * * * * - -But, one long twilight--hushed and dim-- - The blue unfathomable clime -Of heaven seemed wholly to o’erbrim - With presence of the Lord--sublime; -And voices of the Seraphim - Fell through the ether like a chime: -He rose: his past way seemed to him - Like a child’s whim. - - - - -THE LOVER. - - -I was not with the rest at play; - My brothers laughed in joyous mood: -But I--I wandered far away - Into the fair and silent wood; - And with the trees and flowers I stood, -As dumb and full of dreams as they: ---For One it seemed my whole heart knew, - Or One my heart had known long since, -Was peeping at me through the dew; -And with bright laughter seemed to woo - My beauty, like a Fairy prince. - -Oh, what a soft enchantment filled - The lonely paths and places dim! -It was as though the whole wood thrilled, - And a dumb joy, because of him, - Weighed down the lilies tall and slim, -And made the roses blush, and stilled -The great wild voices in half fear: - It was as though his smile did hold - All things in trances manifold; -And in each place as he drew near - The leaves were touched and turned to gold. - -And well I seemed to know, the while, - It was for me and for my sake, -He wrought that magic with his smile, - And set the unseen spells to make - The lonely ways I loved to take -So full of sweetness, to beguile -My heart and keep me there for hours; - And sometimes I was sure he lay -Beside me hid among the flowers, - Or climbed above me, and in play -Shook down the white tree-bloom in showers. - -But more and more he seemed to seek - My heart: till, dreaming of all this, -I thought one day to hear him speak, - Or feel, indeed, his sudden kiss - Bind me to some great unknown bliss: -Then there would stay upon my cheek - Full many a light and honied stain, - That told indeed how I had lain -Deep in the flowery banks all day; - And round me too there would remain -Some strange wood-blossom’s scent alway. - -’Twas not the bright and fond deceit - Of that first summer,--whose great bloom -Quite overcame me with its sweet, - And seemed to fill me and consume - My very brain with its perfume;-- -’Twas no false spell made my heart beat - With such a joy to be alone -With all the bloom and all the scent: - It was a thing I dared not own, - Already whispered there and known, -Already with my whole life blent. - -It was this secret, vast, sublime, - Too full of wonder to be told-- -Whose extreme rapture from that time - Doth ever more and more enfold - My spirit, like a robe of gold, -Or, as it were, the magic clime -Of some fair heaven about me shed-- - Wherein are songs of unseen birds, - And whispers of delicious words -More sweet than any man hath said -Of all the living or the dead. - ---O, the incomparable love - Of him, my Lover!--O, to tell -Its way and measure were above - The throbbing chords of speech that swell - Within me!--Doth it not excel -All other, sung or written of? -Yea now, O all ye fair mankind-- - Consider well the gracious line -Of those your lovers; call to mind -Their love of you, and ye shall find - Not one among them all like mine. - -It seems as though, from calm to calm, - A whole fair age had passed me by, -Since first this Lover, through a charm - Of flowers, wooed so tenderly, - I had no fear of drawing nigh, -Nor knew, indeed, that--with an arm -Closed round and holding me--he led - My eager way from sight to sight - Of all the summer magic--right -To where himself had surely spread - Some pleasant snare for my delight. - -And now, in an eternal sphere, - Beneath one flooding look of his-- -Wherein, all beautiful and dear, - That endless melting gold that is - His love, with flawless memories -Grows ever richer and more clear-- - My life seems held, as some faint star - Beneath its sun: and through the far -Celestial distances for miles, - To where vast mirage futures are, -I trace the gilding of his smiles. - -And, in the long enthralling dream, - That, ever--through each purer zone -Of love translating me--doth seem - To bring my spirit near his own, - I hear the veiled angelic tone -Of many voices; as I deem, -Assuring me of something sweet, - And strange, and wondrous, and intense; -Which thing they evermore repeat - In fair half parables, from whence - I draw a vague all-blissful sense. - -For, one by one, e’en as I rise, - And feel the pure Ethereal -Refining all before my eyes: - Whole beauteous worlds material - Are seen to enter gradual -The great transparent paradise -Of this my dream; and, all revealed, - To break upon me more and more -Their inward singing souls, and yield -A wondrous secret half concealed - In all their loveliness before. - -And so, when, through unmeasured days, - The far effulgence of the sea -Is holding me in long amaze, - And stealing with strange ecstasy - My heart all opened silently;-- -There reach me, from among the sprays, -Ineffable faint words that sing - Within me,--how, for me alone, -One who is lover--who is King, - Hath dropt, as ’twere a precious stone, - That sea--a symbol of his throne. - -And now, indeed, some precious time - It hath,--all inexpressible! -All rapture!--yea, through many a rhyme - Of wordless speech made fairly well, - And beauteous worlds’ whole visible -Unbosomings of love sublime-- -It hath some blessèd while become - Familiar, how all things take part -For him to whose love I am come, -And in their ways--not weak nor dumb-- - Are ever calling on my heart. - -And, through the long charmed solitude - Of throbbing moments, whose strong link -Is one delicious hope pursued - From trance to trance, the while I think - And know myself upon the brink -Of His eternal kiss,--endued -With part of him, the very wind - Hath power to ravish me in sips -Or long mad wooings that unbind -My hair,--wherein I truly find - The magic of his unseen lips. - -And, so almighty is the thrill - I feel at many a faintest breath -Or stir of sound--as ’twere a rill - Of joy traversing me, or death - Dissolving all that hindereth -My thought from power to fulfil -Some new embodiment of bliss,-- - I do consume with the immense -Delight as of some secret kiss, - And am become like one whose sense - Is used with raptures too intense! - -O like some soft insidious breath, - Whose first invasion winneth quite -To all its madness or its death - The heart, resisting not the might - And poison of its new delight,-- -E’en so is this that entereth - In whispers, or through subtly wrought - Enchantment snaring every thought; -Yea, by the whole mysterious pore - Of life,--this joy surpassing aught -That heart of man hath known before. - -And, though, indeed, a hapless end - Of damning ruin were but sure, -Yet could I none of me defend - From such a sweet and perfect lure; - But must, as long as they endure, -To all these sorceries still lend -My heart; believing how I stand - Nigh some unearthly bliss that lies - Dissembled all before my eyes;-- -Do I not see a radiant Hand - Transmuting earth, and air, and skies? - ---And is not the great language mute - The stars’ deep looks are wont to melt -Upon my soul, the very suit - Of this unearthly wooer--felt - So clearly pleading--I have knelt -Full oft, most dreading to pollute -The holy rapture with a sigh? -And doth not every accent nigh - Consume each Past to a thin shred; -While endless visions glorify - My sight, and haloes touch my head? - -Yea, mystic consummation! yea, - O Wondrous suitor,--whosoe’er -Thou art; that in such mighty way, - In distant realms, athwart the air - And lands and seas, with all things fair, -Hast wooed me even till this day;-- -It seems thou drawest near to me; -Or I, indeed, so nigh to thee, - I catch rare breaths of a delight -From thy most glorious country, see - Its distant glow upon some height. - -At times there is vouchsafed me, e’en - Some sign that certainly foretells -Of thee at hand: so I have seen-- - Caught by no earthly clash of bells-- - A gleam of silver citadels; -Distant, and radiant with such sheen - As only on high virgin snows, - Or from the diamond one knows; -Displayed a moment, without shroud, - Eclipsing all the night’s fair shows -From some dim pinnacle of cloud: - -Or, through a calm hushed interval - Of most charmed thinking, there hath passed, -And with no rumour or footfall, - A troop of blonde ones who surpassed - All tales of loveliness amassed -In my child’s dreamland; costumed all -As for a bridal; who did shine - With such a splendour on each face, -And light upon the garments fine, - I knew them surely of a race -That dwells in that fair realm of thine. - -O thou my Destiny! O thou - My own--my very Love--my Lord! -Whom from the first day until now - My heart, divining, hath adored - So perfectly it hath abhorred -The tie of each frail human vow-- -O I would whisper in thine ear-- - Yea, may I not, once, in the clear -Pure night, when, only, silver shod - The angels walk?--thy name, I fear -And love, and tremble saying--GOD! - -[Illustration] - - - - -A WHISPER FROM THE GRAVE. - -My life points with a radiant hand, - Along a golden ray of sun -That lights some distant promised land, - A fair way for my feet to run: -My Death stands heavily in gloom, -And digs a soft bed in the tomb - Where I may sleep when all is done. - -The flowers take hold upon my feet; - Fair fingers beckon me along; -I find Life’s promises so sweet - Each thought within me turns to song: -But Death stands digging for me--lest -Some day I need a little rest, - And come to think the way too long. - -O seems there not beneath each rose - A face?--the blush comes burning through; -And eyes my heart already knows - Are filling themselves from the blue, -Above the world; and One, whose hair -Holds all my sun, is coming, fair, - And must bring heaven if all be true: - -And now I have face, hair, and eyes; - And lo, the Woman that these make -Is more than flower, and sun, and skies! - Her slender fingers seem to take -My whole fair life, as ’twere a bowl, -Wherein she pours me forth her soul, - And bids me drink it for her sake. - -Methinks the world becomes an isle; - And there--immortal, as it seems-- -I gaze upon her face, whose smile - Flows round the world in golden streams: -Ah, Death is digging for me deep, -Lest some day I should need to sleep - And solace me with other dreams! - -But now I feel as though a kiss - Of hers should ever give me birth -In some new heaven of life-long bliss; - And heedlessly, athwart my mirth, -I see Death digging day by day -A grave; and, very far away, - I hear the falling of the earth. - -Ho there, if thou wilt wait for me - Thou Death!--I say--keep in thy shade; -Crouch down behind the willow tree, - Lest thou shouldst make my love afraid; -If thou hast aught with me, pale friend, -Some flitting leaf its sigh shall lend - To tell me when the grave is made! - -And lo, e’en while I now rejoice, - Encircled by my love’s fair arm, -There cometh up to me a voice, - Yea, through the fragrance and the charm; -Quite like some sigh the forest heaves -Quite soft--a murmur of dead leaves, - And not a voice that bodeth harm: - -O lover, fear not--have thou joy; - For life and love are in thy hands: -I seek in no wise to destroy - The peace thou hast, nor make the sands -Run quicker through thy pleasant span; -Blest art thou above many a man, - And fair is She who with thee stands: - -I only keep for thee out here-- - O far away, as thou hast said, -Among the willow trees--a clear - Soft space for slumber, and a bed; -That after all, if life be vain, -And love turn at the last to pain, - Thou mayst have ease when thou art dead. - -O grieve not: back to thy love’s lips - Let her embrace thee more and more, -Consume that sweet of hers in sips: - I only wait till it is o’er; -For fear thou’lt weary of her kiss, -And come to need a bed like this - Where none shall kiss thee evermore. - -Believe each pleasant muttered vow - She makes to thee, and see with ease -Each promised heaven before thee now; - I only think, if one of these -Should fail thee--O thou wouldst need then -To come away right far from men, - And weep beneath the willow trees. - -And, therefore, have I made this place, - Where thou shouldst come on that hard day, -Full of a sad and weary grace; - For here the drear wind hath its way -With grass, and flowers, and withered tree-- -As sorrow shall that day with thee, - If it should happen as I say. - -And, therefore, have I kept the ground, - As ’twere quite holy, year by year; -The great wind lowers to a sound - Of sighing as it passes near; -And seldom doth a man intrude -Upon the hallowed solitude, - And never but to shed a tear. - -So, if it be thou come, alas, - For sake of sorrow long and deep, -I--Death, the flowers, and leaves, and grass-- - Thy grief-fellows, do mourn and weep: -Or if thou come, with life’s whole need -To rest a life-long space indeed, - I too and they do guard thy sleep. - -Moreover, sometimes, while all we - Have kept the grave with heaviness, -The weary place hath seemed to be - Not barren of all blessedness: -Spent sunbeams rest them here at noon, -And grieving spirits from the moon - Walk here at night in shining dress. - -And there is gazing down on all - Some great and love-like eye of blue, -Wherefrom, at times, there seem to fall - Strange looks that soothe the place quite through; -As though indeed, if all love’s sweet -And all life’s good should prove a cheat, - They knew some heaven that might be true. - ---It is a tender voice like this - That comes to me in accents fair: -Well; and through much of love and bliss, - It seemeth not a thing quite bare -Of comfort, e’en to be possest -Of that one spot of earth for rest, - Among the willow trees down there. - -[Illustration] - - - - -BISCLAVARET. - - -Bisclaveret ad nun en Bretan, -Garwall l’apelent li Norman. -Jadis le poët-hum oïr, -E souvent suleit avenir, -Humes plusurs Garwall devindrent -E es boscages meisun tindrent. - MARIE DE FRANCE: _Lais_. - -_In either mood, to bless or curse,_ - _God bringeth forth the breath of man;_ -_No angel sire, no woman nurse_ - _Shall change the work that God began:_ - -_One spirit shall be like a star,_ - _He shall delight to honour one;_ -_Another spirit he shall mar;_ - _None shall undo what God hath done._ - -The weaker holier season wanes; - Night comes with darkness and with sins; -And, in all forests, hills, and plains, - A keener, fiercer life begins. - -And, sitting by the low hearth fires, - I start and shiver fearfully; -For thoughts all strange and new desires - Of distant things take hold on me; - -And many a feint of touch or sound - Assails me, and my senses leap -As in pursuit of false things found - And lost in some dim path of sleep. - -But, momently, there seems restored - A triple strength of life and pain; -I thrill, as though a wine were poured - Upon the pore of every vein: - -I burn--as though keen wine were shed - On all the sunken flames of sense-- -Yea, till the red flame grows more red, - And all the burning more intense, - -And, sloughing weaker lives grown wan - With needs of sleep and weariness, -I quit the hallowed haunts of man - And seek the mighty wilderness. - ---Now over intervening waste - Of lowland drear, and barren wold, -I scour, and ne’er assuage my haste, - Inflamed with yearnings manifold; - -Drinking a distant sound that seems - To come around me like a flood; -While all the track of moonlight gleams - Before me like a streak of blood; - -And bitter stifling scents are past - A-dying on the night behind, -And sudden piercing stings are cast - Against me in the tainted wind. - -And lo, afar, the gradual stir, - And rising of the stray wild leaves; -The swaying pine, and shivering fir, - And windy sound that moans and heaves - -In first fits, till with utter throes - The whole wild forest lolls about: -And all the fiercer clamour grows, - And all the moan becomes a shout; - -And mountains near and mountains far - Breathe freely: and the mingled roar -Is as of floods beneath some star - Of storms, when shore cries unto shore. - -But soon, from every hidden lair - Beyond the forest tracts, in thick -Wild coverts, or in deserts bare, - Behold They come--renewed and quick-- - -The splendid fearful herds that stray - By midnight, when tempestuous moons -Light them to many a shadowy prey, - And earth beneath the thunder swoons. - ---O who at any time hath seen - Sight all so fearful and so fair, -Unstricken at his heart with keen - Whole envy in that hour to share - -Their unknown curse and all the strength - Of the wild thirsts and lusts they know, -The sharp joys sating them at length, - The new and greater lusts that grow? - -But who of mortals shall rehearse - How fair and dreadfully they stand, -Each marked with an eternal curse, - Alien from every kin and land? - ---Along the bright and blasted heights - Loudly their cloven footsteps ring! -Full on their fronts the lightning smites, - And falls like some dazed baffled thing. - -Now through the mountain clouds they break, - With many a crest high-antlered, reared -Athwart the storm: now they outshake - Fierce locks or manes, glossy and weird, - -That sweep with sharp perpetual sound - The arid heights where the snows drift, -And drag the slain pines to the ground, - And all into the whirlwind lift - -The heavy sinking slopes of shade - From hidden hills of monstrous girth, -Till new unearthly lights have flayed - The draping darkness from the earth. - -Henceforth what hiding-place shall hide - All hallowed spirits that in form -Of mortal stand beneath the wide - And wandering pale eye of the storm? - -The beadsman in his lonely cell - Hath cast one boding timorous look -Toward the heights; then loud and well, ---Kneeling before the open book-- - -All night he prayeth in one breath, - Nor spareth now his sins to own: -And through his prayer he shuddereth - To hear how loud the forests groan. - -For all abroad the lightnings reign, - And rally, with their lurid spell, -The multitudinous campaign - Of hosts not yet made fast in hell: - -And us indeed no common arm, - Nor magic of the dark may smite, -But, through all elements of harm, - Across the strange fields of the night-- - -Enrolled with the whole giant host - Of shadowy, cloud-outstripping things -Whose vengeful spells are uppermost, - And convoyed by unmeasured wings, - -We foil the thin dust of fatigue - With bright-shod phantom feet that dare -All pathless places and the league - Of the light shifting soils of air; - -And loud, mid fearful echoings, - Our throats, aroused with hell’s own thirst, -Outbay the eternal trumpetings; - The while, all impious and accurst, - -Revealed and perfected at length - In whole and dire transfigurement, -With miracle of growing strength - We win upon a keen warm scent. - -Before us each cloud fastness breaks; - And o’er slant inward wastes of light, -And past the moving mirage lakes, - And on within the Lord’s own sight-- - -We hunt the chosen of the Lord; - And cease not, in wild course elate, -Until we see the flaming sword - And Gabriel before His gate! - -O many a fair and noble prey - Falls bitterly beneath our chase; -And no man till the judgment day, - Hath power to give these burial place; - -But down in many a stricken home - About the world, for these they mourn; -And seek them yet through Christendom - In all the lands where they were born. - -And oft, when Hell’s dread prevalence - Is past, and once more to the earth -In chains of narrowed human sense - We turn,--around our place of birth, - -We hear the new and piercing wail; - And, through the haunted day’s long glare, -In fearful lassitudes turn pale - With thought of all the curse we bear. - -But, for long seasons of the moon, - When the whole giant earth, stretched low, -Seems straightening in a silent swoon - Beneath the close grip of the snow, - -We well nigh cheat the hideous spells - That force our souls resistless back, -With languorous torments worse than hell’s - To the frail body’s fleshly rack: - -And with our brotherhood the storms, - Whose mighty revelry unchains -The avalanches, and deforms - The ancient mountains and the plains,-- - -We hold high orgies of the things, - Strange and accursèd of all flesh, -Whereto the quick sense ever brings - The sharp forbidden thrill afresh. - -And far away, among our kin, - Already they account our place -With all the slain ones, and begin - The Masses for our soul’s full grace. - - - - -THOUGHT. - - -There is no place at all by night or day, - Where I--who am of that hard tyrant Thought - The slave--can find security in aught, -But He, almighty, reaching me, doth lay -His hand upon me there, so rough a way - Assaulting me,--however I am caught, - Walking or standing still--that for support -I sometimes lean on anything I may: - Then when he hath me, ease is none from him -Till he do out his strength with me; cold sweat - Comes o’er my body and on every limb; - My arm falls weak as from a fierce embrace; -And, ere he leaveth me, he will have set - A great eternal mark upon my face. - - - - -THE STORY OF THE KING. - - -This is the story of the King: - Was he not great in everything? - -He built him dwelling-places three: -In one of them his Youth should be; - To make it fair for many a feast - He conquered the whole East; -He brought delight from every land, -And gold from many a river’s strand, - And all things precious he could find - In Perse, or utmost Ind. - -There, brazen guarded were the doors; -And o’er the many painted floors - The captive women came and went; - Or, with bright ornament, -Sat in the pillared places gay, -And feasted with him every day, - And fed him with their rosy kiss: - O there he had all bliss! - -Then afterward, when he did hear -There was none like him anywhere, - He would behold the sight so sweet - Of all men at his feet: -And, since he heard that certainly -Not like a man was he to die, - For all his lust that palace vast - It seemed too small at last. - -Therefore, another house he made, -So wide that it might hold arrayed - The thousands peers of his domain - And last his godlike reign; -And here he was a goodly span, -While before him came every man - To kneel and worship in his sight: - O there he had all might! - -And yet, most surely, it befel -He tired of this house as well: - Was it too mighty after all? - Or still perhaps too small? -Strangely in all men’s wonderment, -He left it for a tenement - He had all builded in one year: - Now he is dwelling there. - -He took full little of his gold; -And of his pleasures manifold - He had but a small heed, they say, - That day he went away: ---O, the new dwelling he hath found -Is but a man’s grave in the ground, - And taketh up but one man’s space - In the burial place. - -And now, indeed, that he is dead, -The nations have they no more dread? - Lo, is not this the King they swore - To worship evermore? -Will no one Love of his come near -And kiss him where he lieth there, - And warm his freezing lips again? - --Is this then all his reign? - -He must have longed ere this to rise -And be again in all men’s eyes; - For the place where he dwelleth now - Lonely it is I trow: -But, just to stand in his own hall -And feel the warmth there once for all-- - O would he not give crowns of gold? - For the place is so cold! - -But over him a tomb doth stand, -The costliest in all the land; - And of the glory that he bore - It telleth evermore.-- -So these three dwellings he hath had, -And mighty he hath been and glad, - O hath he not been sad as well? - Perhaps--but who can tell? - -This is the story of the King: -Was he not great in everything? - - - - -PALM FLOWERS. - - -In a land of the sun’s blessing, - Where the passion-flower grows, -My heart keeps all worth possessing; - And the way there no man knows. - ---Unknown wonder of new beauty! - There my Love lives all for me; -To love me is her whole duty, - Just as I would have it be. - -All the perfumes and perfections - Of that clime have met with grace -In her body, and complexions - Of its flowers are on her face. - -All soft tints of flowers most vernal, - Tints that make each other fade: -In her eyes they are eternal, - Set in some mysterious shade. - -Full of dreams are the abysses - Of the night beneath her hair; -But an open dawn of kisses - Is her mouth: O she is fair. - -And she has so sweet a fashion - With her languid loving eyes, -That she stirs my soul with passion, - And renews my breath with sighs. - -Now she twines her hair in tresses - With some long red lustrous vine; -Now she weaves strange glossy dresses - From the leafy fabrics fine: - -And upon her neck there mingle - Corals and quaint serpent charms, -And bright beaded sea-shells jingle - Set in circlets round her arms. - -There--in solitudes sweet smelling, - Where the mighty Banyan stands, -I and she have found a dwelling - Shadowed by its giant hands: - -All around our banyan bowers - Shine the reddening palm-tree ranks, -And the wild rare forest flowers - Crowded on high purple banks. - -Through the long enchanted weather - --Ere the swollen fruits yet fall, -While red love-birds sit together - In thick green, and voices call - -From the hidden forest places, - And are answered with strange shout -By the folk whose myriad faces - All day long are peeping out - -From shy loopholes all above us - In the leafy hollows green, ---While all creatures seem to love us, - And the lofty boughs are seen - -Gilded and for ever haunted - By the far ethereal smiles-- -Through the long bright time enchanted, - In those solitudes for miles, - -I and She--at heart possessing - Rhapsodies of tender thought-- -Wander, till our thoughts too pressing - Into new sweet words are wrought. - -And at length, with full hearts sinking - Back to silence and the maze -Of immeasurable thinking, - In those inward forest ways, - -We recline on mossy couches, - Vanquished by mysterious calms, -All beneath the soothing touches - Of the feather-leaved fan-palms. - -Strangely, with a mighty hushing, - Falls the sudden hour of noon; -When the flowers droop with blushing, - And a deep miraculous swoon - -Seems subduing the whole forest; - Or some distant joyous rite -Draws away each bright-hued chorist: - Then we yield with long delight - -Each to each, our souls deep thirsting; - And no sound at all is nigh, -Save from time to time the bursting - Of some fire-fed fruit on high. - -Then with sudden overshrouding - Of impenetrable wings, -Comes the darkness and the crowding - Mysteries of the unseen things. - -O how happy are we lovers - In weak wanderings hand in hand!-- -Whom the immense palm forest covers - In that strange enchanted land; - -Whom its thousand sights stupendous - Hold in breathless charmed suspense; -Whom its hidden sounds tremendous - And its throbbing hues intense - -And the mystery of each glaring - Flower o’erwhelm with wonder dim;-- -We, who see all things preparing - Some Great Spirit’s world for him! - -Under pomps and splendid glamour - Of the night skies limitless; -Through the weird and growing clamour - Of the swaying wilderness; - -Through each shock of sound that shivers - The serene palms to their height, -By white rolling tongues of rivers - Launched with foam athwart the night; - -Lost and safe amid such wonders, - We prolong our human bliss; -Drown the terrors of the thunders - In the rapture of our kiss. - -By some moon-haunted savanna, - In thick scented mid-air bowers -Draped about with some liana, - O what passionate nights are ours! - -O’er our heads the squadron dances - Of the fire-fly wheel and poise; -And dim phantoms charm our trances, - And link’d dreams prolong our joys-- - -Till around us creeps the early - Sweet discordance of the dawn, -And the moonlight pales, and pearly - Haloes settle round the morn; - -And from remnants of the hoary - Mists, where now the sunshine glows, -Starts at length in crimson glory - Some bright flock of flamingoes. - - * * * * * - -O that land where the suns linger - And the passion-flowers grow -Is the land for me the Singer: - There I made me, years ago, - -Many a golden habitation, - Full of things most fair to see; -And the fond imagination - Of my heart dwells there with me. - -Now, farewell, all shameful sorrow! - Farewell, troublous world of men! -I shall meet you on some morrow, - But forget you quite till then. - - - - -AN EPIC OF WOMEN. - - - - -I. - -CREATION. - -Nam non in hac ærumnosa miseriarum valle, in qua ad -laborem ceteri mortales nascimur, producta est. - BOCCACCIO: DE CLARIS MULIERIBUS. - - -And God said, “Let us make a thing most fair,-- - A Woman with gold hair, and eyes all blue:” -He took from the sun gold and made her hair, - And for her eyes He took His heaven’s own hue. - -He sought in every precious place and store, - And gathered all sweet essences that are -In all the bodies: so He made one more - Her body, the most beautiful by far. - -Pure coral with pure pearl engendering, - Bore Her the fairest flower of the sea; -And for the wonder of that new-made thing - God ceaséd then, and nothing more made He. - -So the beginning of her was this way: - Full of sea savours, beautiful and good, -Made of sun, sky, and sea,--more fair than they-- - On the green margin of the sea she stood. - -The coral colour lasted in her veins, - Made her lips rosy like a sea-shell’s rims; -The purple stained her cheeks with splendid stains, - And the pearl’s colour clung upon her limbs. - -She took her golden hair between her hands; - The faded gold and amber of the seas -Dropped from it in a shower upon the sands; - The crispéd hair enwrapped her like a fleece; - -And through the threads of it the sun lost gold, - And fell all pale upon her throat and breast -With play of lights and tracings manifold: - But the whole heaven shone full upon the rest. - -Her curvéd shapes of shoulder and of limb, - Wrought fairly round or dwindling delicate, -Were carven in some substance made to dim - With whiteness all things carven or create. - -And every sort of fairness that was yet - In work of man or God was perfected -Upon that work her bosom, where were set - In snows two wondrous jewelries of red. - -The sun and sea made haloes of a light - Most soft and glimmering, and wreathed her close -Round all her wondrous shapes, and kept her bright - In a fair mystery of pearl and rose. - -The waves fell fawning all about her there - Down to her ancles; then, with kissing sweet, -Slackened and waned away in love and fear - From the bright presence of her new-formed feet. - -The green-gray mists were gathering away - In distant hollows underneath the sun -Behind the round sea; and upon that day - The work of all the world-making was done. - -The world beheld, and hailed her, form and face; - The ocean spray, the sunlight, the pure blue -Of heaven beheld and wondered at her grace; - And God looked out of heaven and wondered too. - -And ere a man could see her with desire, - Himself looked on her so, and loved her first, -And came upon her in a mist, like fire, - And of her beauty quenched his god-like thirst. - -He touched her wholly with his naked soul, - At once sufficing all the new-made sense -For ever: so the Giver Himself stole - The gift, and left indeed no recompense. - -All lavishly at first He did entreat - His leman; yea, the world of things create -He rolled like any jewel at her feet, - And of her changeful whim He made a fate. - -He feasted her with ease and idle food - Of gods, and taught her lusts to fill the whole -Of life; withal He gave her nothing good, - And left her as He made her--without soul. - -And lo, when he had held her for a season - In His own pleasure-palaces above, -He gave her unto man; this is the reason - She is so fair to see, so false to love. - - - - -II. - -THE WIFE OF HEPHÆSTUS. - - -He was not fair to look on as a god-- - Her husband whom God gave her; for his face, -Not as the golden face of Phœbus glowed; - Nor in his body was there light or grace; - -But he was rugged-seeming; all his brows - Were changed and smeared with the great human toil; -His limbs all gnarled and knotted as the boughs - And limbs of mighty oaks are: many a soil - -Was on his skin, coarse-coloured as a bark; - Yea, he was shorn of beauty from the birth; -But strong, and of a mighty soul to work - With Fate and all the iron of the earth. - -Thereto he had a heart even to love - That woman whom God gave him; and his part -Of fate had been quite blest--ay, sweet enough, - Having her beautiful and whole of heart. - -But when he knew she was quite false and vain, - He slew her not because she was so fair; -Yea, spite of all the rest, had rather slain - Himself, than lost the looking on her hair. - -For then the labouring days had seemed to last - Longer than ever: all had been too sore, -Not to be borne as erst,--the world so vast-- - Vaster than ever it had seemed before! - -But, when he knew it, heavily the ire-- - Darkly the sorrow of it wrought on him; -The hollows of his eyes were filled with fire; - The fruitless sweat was dried upon each limb: - -Raging he went, and full of lust to kill: - O he was fillèd with a great despair; -But added labour unto labour still, - And slew her not because she was so fair. - -In all of life was nothing that atoned - For that hard fate: in hearing of all heaven, -About the iron mountain world he groaned; - But no return of pitying was given. - -The iron echoes in a mighty blast - Flung up his voice toward the sweet abodes -In the blue heaven: his pain was known at last - In every palace of the painless gods. - -He had no part but wholly to upbraid - Them,--meters of his evil measured fate, -Who first made fair, then spoiled the thing they made, - And mingled all their gifts with love and hate. - -Yet he was moved at length some way to win - Vengeance, and all at once, on her and Him-- -That god with whom she rather chose to sin - Than with a man to love: when earth was dim-- - -Full of unearthly shadows in the night, - He came upon those lovers unaware; -And fairly caught them locked in their delight: - Limb over limb he bound them in a snare. - -For first with all his craft he did invent - A curious toil of meshes, strongly set -With supple fibrous thread and branches bent: - Full tightly they were bounden in that net. - -Yet, not until with many a growing gray - And change that wrought among the shifting shade, -Day--softly changing all things--warned away - Their loves and sins, knew they the fate they had. - -And when they were but striving to undo - Delicious bonds of love that needs no chain, -Then were they held:--though love had let them go - A stronger bond than love’s bade them remain. - -And, spite of many a throe of sudden strength, - And all their tortuous striving to be free; -Yea, they were held:--till the sun came at length, - And all the gods came out of heaven to see. - -For there they saw and knew Him from afar, - Vanquished and in no honourable plight, -No less a god than Ares god of war, - Ares the red and royal in all fight; - -But now quite shorn indeed of arms and fame, - Spoiled of his helm and harness of each limb; -Yea, quite inglorious and brought to shame - For a mere love, with such rude stratagem! - -The golden peals of god-like laughter brake - And rang down beautiful beneath the sun; -For well they saw, indeed, for whose fair sake - Their brother was so fallen and undone. - -Phœbus himself, with many a secret pride - Of love--unshamed in any of his loves-- -Leant on his golden bow, and laughed aside, - And made some fair light saying that still moves - -From lips to lips at all the mirthful feasts - Of them above who have eternal rights -To joys and loves, and wine that never wastes, - And life never to end their days or nights. - -And well they knew Hephæstus where, hard by, - He stood, inglorious, daring all their eyes: -The gods all beautiful--they laughed on high - At him, his woes and all his blasphemies. - -But surely never was there such a play - For mirth of idle gods!--Nor such a shame -Ever become of love, as on that day - In sight of all the gods their love became! - -Who were betrayed so,--in whatever sin - Lips could with lips, face could with face commit, -Yea lips or limbs of lovers could begin,-- - That they were bound and kept quite close in it: - -For vainly in the meshes of that snare - They strove, with shuddering limbs and starting cries, -Entangled more with many a mesh of hair - Caught in the manifold intricacies! - -So She was found indeed most beautiful, - Yet full of shame and false in all she was; -So before gods who make and gods who rule, - And him her husband, she was found, alas! - -Yet, after all, Hephæstus--he, her lord-- - For all that sin, her death he would not have; -But, for his love’s sake and great Phœbus’ word, - Loosed her, and made her free, and all forgave. - - - - -III. - -CLEOPATRA. - -1. - -Cleopatra Egyptia femina fuit, totius orbis fabula. - - -She made a feast for great Marc Antony: - Her galley was arrayed in gold and light; -That evening, in the purple sea and sky, - It shone green-golden like a chrysolite. - -She was reclined upon a Tyrian couch - Of crimson wools: out of her loosened vest -Set on one shoulder with a serpent brooch - Fell one arm white and half her foamy breast. - -And, with the breath of many a fanning plume, - That wonder of her hair that was like wine-- -Of mingled fires and purples that consume, - Moved all its mystery of threads most fine-- - -Moved like some threaded instrument that thrills, - Played on with unseen kisses in the air -Weaving a music from it, working spells - We feel and know not of--so moved her hair: - -And under saffron canopies all bright - With clash of lights, e’en to the amber prow, -Crept like enchantments subtle passing sight, - Fragrance and siren music soft and slow. - -Amid the thousand viands of the feast, - And Nile fruits piled in panniers, where they vied -With palm-tree dates and melons of the East, - She waited for Marc Antony and sighed. - ---Where tarries he?--What gift doth he invent - For costly greeting?--How with look or smile, -Out of love treasures not already spent - Prepares he now her fondness to beguile? - ---But lo, he came between the whiles she sighed; - Scarce the wave murmurs troubling,--lo, most dear, -His galley, with the oars all softly plied, - Warned her with music distant, and drew near. - -And on that night--for present,--he did bring - A pearl; and gave it her with kissing sweet: -“Would half the Roman empires were this thing,” - He said, “that I might lay them at your feet.” - -Fairly then moved the magic all arrayed - About that fragrant feast; in every part -The soft Egyptian spells did lend their aid - To work some strange enamouring of the heart. - -It was her whim to show him on that night - All she was queen of; like a perfect dream, -Wherein there should be gathered in one sight - The gold of many lives, as it might seem - -Spent and lived through at once,--so she made pass - A splendid pageantry of all her East -Beauteous and captive,--so she did amass - The richness of each land in that one feast. - -More jewelries than one could name or know, - Set in a thousand trinkets or in crowns -Each one a sovereignty, in glittering row - Numbered the suppliant lands and all her thrones. - -And fairest handmaidens in gracious rank, - Their captive arms enchained with links of gold, -Knelt and poured forth the purple wine she drank, - Or served her there in postures manifold. - -And beaded women of a yellow Ind - Stood at the couch, with bended hand to ply -Great silver feathered fans wherein the wind - Gat all the choicest fumes of Araby. - -There in the midst, of shape uncouth and hard, - Juggled his arts some Ethiopian churl; -Changing fierce natures of the spotted pard - Or serpents of the Nile that creep and curl. - -And many a minstrelsy of voice and string, - Twining sweet sounds like tendrils delicate, -Seemed to ensnare the moments--seemed to cling - Upon their pleasure all interminate. - -But now at length she made them serve her wine - In the most precious goblet,--wine that shed -Great fragrance, in a goblet fair with shine - Of jewels: so they poured the wine out red: - -And lo, to mark that more than any feast - And honour Antony,--or for mere pride -To do so proud a vanity, at least - The proudest, vainest, woman ever tried-- - -She took the unmatched pearl, and, taking, laughed; - And when they served her now that wine of worth -She cast it gleaming in; then with the draught - Mingling she drank it in their midst with mirth. - -And all that while upon the ocean high, - The golden galley, heavy in its light, -Ruled the hoarse sea-sounds with its revelry-- - Changing afar the purples of the night! - - - - -IV. - -CLEOPATRA. - -2. - - -When Cleopatra saw ’twas time to yield - Even that love, to smite nor be afraid, -Since love shared loss,--yea, when the thing was sealed, - And all the trust of Antony betrayed; - -And when, before his eyes and in full sight - Of the still striving ships, that gleaming line -Of galleys decked for no rude field of fight - Fled fair and unashamed in the sunshine; - -Then, surely, he fell down as one but blind - Through sudden fallen darkness, even to grope -If haply some least broken he might find - Of all the broken ends of life and hope. - -Well, out of all his fates now was there none - But Death, the utter end; and for no sake, -Save for some last love-look beneath the sun, - Had he delayed that end of all to take! - -But now, because love--armed indeed of him - With utter rule of all his destinies-- -Had chosen even to slay him for a whim, - And the mere remnant was none else than his, - -And since, for sure, the sorest way of death - Were but to die not falling at the feet -Of that one woman who with look or breath - Could change it if she would and make it sweet; - -He chose before all fame he might have caught - With death in foremost fighting, now to cling -Upon her steps who at this last had wrought - His death-wound shameful with a lover’s sting. - -O how the memories seemed to throb and start - Welling from out the unstanched past!--seemed nigh -Already opening there in all his heart - The canker wound wherewith he was to die! - -And so, though she were quite estranged, and now - He held no costlier gift to win her with; -Yet, following, he would find her, and, somehow, - Lay in her hands that latest gift--his death: - -For now all piteously his heart relied - On a mere hope of love dwindled to this-- -To fall some fair waste moment at her side - And feel perhaps a tear or even a kiss; - -Since surely, in some waste of day or night, - He thought, the face of love out of the Past, -With look of his, should rise up in her sight - And make some kind of pleading at the last. - -Therefore, when all the heavy heated day - Of rowing on the waters was nigh done, -And like a track of sweetness past away - Waned on the wave the last track of the sun, - -At length with scarce a sound or warning cry, - Save of the rowers ceasing from the oar, -He reached her side and prayed her pass not by; - Yea, prayed her bear him yet a little more. - -But truly this well-nigh availed to move - Her--Cleopatra--with remorse for all: -She knew not of such pardon, e’en from love; - Nor craved to look upon his utter fall. - -And, first, when it was told her how he came - And sought to reach the galley where she was, -She faltered for a while with fear and shame, - And bade them scarce give way to let him pass: - -Only at length he showed them the plain sight - How he was broken and so soon to die; -Then they fell back all grieved and gave him right, - And scarce believed the man was Antony. - -And yet he could not speak; but lay forlorn - Crouched up about the gilded quivering prow, -Three days, from morn to night and night to morn, - As one whom a sore burden boweth low. - -Harshly the sea-sounds taunted him at will, - And seemed in mocking choruses combined; -Each bitter inward thought was uttered shrill - On shrieking tongues of many a thwart-blown wind. - -And where with onward beak the galley clave - Full many a silver mouth in the blue mere, -The turned up whitened lips of every wave - Rang out a bitter cadence on his ear. - -But first awhile his thoughts were taking leave - Sadly of Rome, and all the pageant days; -For now at length he saw and would believe - The end of triumphs and the end of praise. - -And now he did survey, apart from wrath, - The various fates of men both great and small; -How little reign or glory any hath; - And how one end comes quickly upon all; - -And thought if love had been--had been quite love, - One little thing in each man’s life for bliss, -Then had the grief been paid with sweet enough - And a lost crown forgotten for a kiss; - -While now, as though men played with fall and rise - Of mere base monies of the common mart, -To-day they strove for love as for a prize, - To-morrow compassed fame with every art; - -And one who should but half trust any face - Of seeming fame, or follow love too well, -To set his heart a moment in love’s place-- - That man should fall,--yea, even as he fell. - -And he thought how, since the first fate began, - The lot of every one hath been so cast: -One woman bears and brings him up a man, - Another woman slays him at the last; - -While all so hardly leaguered are men’s ways - And love so sharp a snare for them contrives, -The fleeting span of one fair woman’s days - Sufficeth many heroes’ loves and lives! - ---But now, when he had thought all this and more, - He lay there and yet moved not from his place; -The love of her was in him like a sore, - And he lived waiting to behold her face. - -At length they drew nigh to a land by name - Tænarus; and the third day, at its eve, -In guise of one who mourneth the Queen came - Weeping, and prayed him rise up and forgive. - - - - -V. - -THE DAUGHTER OF HERODIAS. - - -My heart is heavy for each goodly man - Whom crownéd woman or sweet courtezan - Hath slain or brought to greater shames than death. -But now, O Daughter of Herodias! - I weep for him, of whom the story saith, -Thou didst procure his bitter fate:--Alas, -He seems so fair!--May thy curse never pass! - -Where art thou writhing? Herod’s palace-floor -Has fallen through: there shalt thou dance no more; - And Herod is a worm now. In thy place, ---Salome, Viper!--do thy coils yet keep - That woman’s flesh they bore with such a grace? -Have thine eyes still the love-lure hidden deep, -The ornament of tears, they could not weep? - -Thou wast quite perfect in the splendid guile -Of woman’s beauty; thou hadst the whole smile - That can dishonour heroes, and recal -Fair saints prepared for heaven back to hell: - And He, whose unlived glory thou mad’st fall -All beautiful and spotless, at thy spell, -Was great and fit for thee by whom he fell. - -O, is it now sufficing sweet to thee-- -Through all the long uncounted years that see - The undistinguished lost ones waste away-- -To twine thee, biting, on those locks that bleed, - As bled they through thy fingers on that day? -Or hast thou, all unhallowed, some fierce need -Thy soul on his anointed grace to feed? - -Or hast thou, rather, for that serpent’s task -Thou didst accomplish in thy woman-mask, - Some perfect inconceivable reward -Of serpent’s slimy pleasure?--all the thing - Thou didst beseech thy master, who is Lord -Of those accursèd hosts that creep and sting, -To give thee for the spoil thou shouldest bring? - -He was a goodly spoil for thee to win! ---Men’s souls and lives were wholly dark with sin; - And so God’s world was changed with wars and gold, -No part of it was holy; save, maybe, - The desert and the ocean as of old:-- -But such a spotless way of life had he, -His soul was as the desert or the sea. - -I think he had not heard of the far towns; -Nor of the deeds of men, nor of kings’ crowns; - Before the thought of God took hold of him, -As he was sitting dreaming in the calm - Of one first noon, upon the desert’s rim, -Beneath the tall fair shadows of the palm, -All overcome with some strange inward balm. - -But then, so wonderful and lovely seemed -That thought, he straight became as though he dreamed - A vast thing false and fair, which day and night -Absorbed him in some rapture--very high - Above the common swayings of delight -And general yearnings, that quite occupy -Men’s passions, and suffice them till they die: - -Yea, soon as it had entered him--that thought -Of God--he felt that he was being wrought - All holy: more and more it filled his heart; -And seemed, indeed, a spirit of pure flame - Set burning in his soul’s most inward part. -And from the Lord’s great wilderness there came -A mighty voice calling on him by name. - -He numbered not the changes of the year, -The days, the nights, and he forgot all fear - Of death: each day he thought there should have been -A shining ladder set for him to climb - Athwart some opening in the heavens, e’en -To God’s eternity, and see, sublime-- -His face whose shadow passing fills all time. - -But he walked through the ancient wilderness. -O, there the prints of feet were numberless - And holy all about him! And quite plain -He saw each spot an angel silvershod - Had lit upon; where Jacob too had lain -The place seemed fresh,--and, bright and lately trod, -A long track showed where Enoch walked with God. - -And often, while the sacred darkness trailed -Along the mountains smitten and unveiled - By rending lightnings,--over all the noise -Of thunders and the earth that quaked and bowed - From its foundations--he could hear the voice -Of great Elias prophesying loud -To Him whose face was covered by a cloud. - -Already he was shown so perfectly -The awful mystic grace and sanctity - Of all the earth, there was no part his feet -With sandal covering might dare to tread; - Because that in it he was sure to meet -The fair sword-bearing angels, or some dread -Eternal prophet numbered with the dead. - -So he believed that he should purify -His body, till the sin of it should die, - And the unfailing spirit and great word -Of One--who is too bright to be beheld, - And in his speech too fearful to be heard -By mortal man--should come down and be held -In him as in those holy ones of eld. - -And to believe in this was rapture more -Than any that the thought of living bore - To tempt him: so the pleasant days of youth -Were but the days of striving and of prayer; - And all the beauty of those days, forsooth, -He counted as an evil or a snare, -And would have left it in the desert there. - -Ah, spite of all the scourges that had bit -So fiercely his fair body, branding it - With many a painful over-written vow -Of perfect sanctity--what man shall say - How often, weak with groanings, he would bow -Before the angels of the place, and pray -That all his body might consume away? - -For through whole bitter days it seemed in vain -That all the mighty desert had no stain - Of sin around him; that the burning breaths -Went forth from the eternal One, and rolled - For ever through it, filling it with deaths, -And plagues, and fires; that he did behold -The earthquakes and the wonders manifold: - -It seemed in vain that all the place was bright -Ineffably with that unfading light - No man who worketh evil can abide; -That he could see too with his open eyes - Fair troops of deathless ones, and those that died -In martyrdoms, or went up to the skies -In fiery cars--walk there with no disguise;-- - -It seemed in vain that he was there alone -With no man’s sin to tempt him but his own;-- - Since in his body he did bear about -A seeming endless sin he could not quell - With the most sharp coercement, nor cast out -Through any might of prayer. O, who can tell-- -Save God--how often in despair he fell? -The very stones seemed purer far than he; -And every naked rock and every tree - Looked great and calm, composed in one long thought -Of holiness; each bird and creeping thing - Rejoiced in bearing some bright sign that taught -The legend of an ancient minist’ring -To some fair saint of old there sojourning. - -Yea, all the dumb things and the creatures there -Were grand, and some way sanctified; most fair - The very lions stood, and had no shame -Before the angels; and what time were poured - The floods of the Lord’s anger forth, they came -Quite nigh the lightnings of the Mount and roared -Among the roaring thunders of the Lord: - -Yet He--while in him day by day, divine, -The clear inspirèd thought went on to shine, - And heaven was opening every radiant door -Upon his spirit--He, in that fair dress - Of weak humanity his senses bore, -Did feel scarce worthy to be there, and less -Than any dweller in the wilderness. - -Wherefore his limbs were galled with many a stone; -And often he had wrestled all alone - With their fair beauty, conquering the pride -And various pleasure of them with some quick - And hard inflicted pain that might abide,-- -Assailing all the sense with constant prick -Until the lust or pride fell faint and sick. - -Natheless there grew and stayed upon his face -The wonderful unconquerable grace - Of a young man made beautiful with love; -Because the thought of God was wholly spread - Like love upon it; and still fair above -All crownèd heads of kings remained his head -Whereon the halo of the Lord was shed. - -Ah, how long was it, since the first red rush -Of that surpassing thought made his cheek blush - With pleasure, as he sat--a tender child-- -And wondered at the desert, and the long - Rough prickly paths that led out to the wild -Where all the men of God, holy and strong, -Had dwelt and purified themselves--how long?-- - -Before he rose up from his knees one day, -And felt that he was purified as they; - That he had trodden out the sin at last, -And that the light was filling him within? - How many of the months and years had past -Uncounted?--But the place he was born in -No longer knew him: no man was his kin. - -O then it was a most sweet, holy will -That came upon him, making his soul thrill - With joy indeed, and with a perfect trust,-- -For he soon thought of men and of the king - All tempted in the world, with gold and lust, -And women there, and every fatal thing, -And none to save their souls from perishing-- - -And so he vowed that he would go forth straight -From God there in the desert, with the great - Unearthliness upon him, and adjure -The nations of the whole world with his voice; - Until they should resist each pleasant lure -Of gold and woman, and make such a choice -As his, that they might evermore rejoice. - -Thus beautiful and good was He, at length, -Who came before King Herod in his strength, - And shouted to him with a great command -To purify himself, and put away - That unclean woman set at his right hand; -And after all to bow himself and pray, -And be in terror of the Judgment Day! - -He never had seen houses like to that -Fair-columned, cedar-builded one where sat - King Herod. Flawless cedar was each beam, -Wrought o’er with flaming brass: along the wall - Great brazen images of beasts did gleam, -With wondrous flower-works and palm trees tall; -And folded purples hung about it all. - -He never had beheld so many thrones, -As those of ivory and precious stones - Whereon the noble company was raised -About the king:--he never had seen gems - So costly, nor so wonderful as blazed -Upon their many crowns and diadems, -And trailed upon their garments’ trodden hems: - -But he had seen in mighty Lebanon -The cedars no man’s axe hath lit upon; - And he had often worshipped, falling down -In dazzling temples opened straight to him, - Where One who had great lightnings for His crown -Was suddenly made present, vast and dim -Through crowded pinions of the Cherubim! - -Wherefore he had no fear to stand and shout -To all men in the place, and there to flout - Those fair and fearful women who were seen -Quite triumphing in that work of their smile - To shame a goodly king. And he cast, e’en -A sudden awe that undid for a while -The made-up shameless visages of guile. - -And when Herodias--that many times -Polluted one, assured now in all crimes - Past fear or turning--when she, her fierce tongue -Thrice forked with indignation, hotly spoke - Quick wild beseeching words, wherewith she clung -To Herod, praying him by some death-stroke -To do her vengeance there before all folk-- - -Ah, spite of every urging that her hate -Did put into her lips,--so fair and great - Seemed that accuser standing weaponless, -Yet wholly terrible with his bright speech - As ’twere some sword of flaming holiness, -That no man dared to join her and beseech -His death; but dread came somehow upon each. - -For he was surely terrible to see -So plainly sinless, so divinely free - To judge them; being in a perfect youth, -Yet walking like an angel in a man - Reproving all men with inspired truth. -And Herod himself spoke not, but began -To tremble: through his soul the warning ran. - ---Then _that Salome_ did put off the shame -Of her mere virgin girlhood, and became - A woman! Then she did at once essay -Her beauty’s magic, and unfold the wings - Of her enchanted feet,--to have men say -She slew _him_--born indeed for wondrous things. -Her dance was fit to ruin saints or kings. - -O, her new beauty was above all praise! -She came with dancing in shy devious ways, - And while she danced she sang. -The virgin bandlet of her forehead brake, -Her hair came round her like a shining snake; -To loving her men’s hearts within them sprang - The while she danced and sang. - -Her long black hair danced round her like a snake -Allured to each charmed movement she did make; - Her voice came strangely sweet; -She sang, “O, Herod, wilt thou look on me-- -Have I no beauty thy heart cares to see?” -And what her voice did sing her dancing feet - Seemed ever to repeat. - -She sang, “O, Herod, wilt thou look on me? -What sweet I have, I have it all for thee;” - And through the dance and song -She freed and floated on the air her arms -Above dim veils that hid her bosom’s charms: -The passion of her singing was so strong - It drew all hearts along. - -Her sweet arms were unfolded on the air, -They seemed like floating flowers the most fair-- - White lilies the most choice; -And in the gradual bending of her hand -There lurked a grace that no man could withstand; -Yea, none knew whether hands, or feet, or voice, - Most made his heart rejoice. - -The veils fell round her like thin coiling mists -Shot through by topaz suns, and amethysts, - And rubies she had on; -And out of them her jewelled body came, -And seemed to all quite like a slender flame -That curled and glided, and that burnt and shone - Most fair to look upon. - -Then she began, on that well-polished floor, -Whose stones seemed taking radiance more and more - From steps too bright to see, -A certain measure that was like some spell -Of winding magic, wherein heaven and hell -Were joined to lull men’s souls eternally - In some mid ecstasy: - -For it was so inexplicably wrought -Of soft alternate motions, that she taught - Each sweeping supple limb, -And in such intricate and wondrous ways -With bendings of her body, that the praise -Lost breath upon men’s lips, and all grew dim - Save her so bright and slim. - -And through the swift mesh’d serpents of her hair -That lash’d and leapt on each place white and fair - Of bosom or of arm, -And through the blazing of the numberless -And whirling jewelled fires of her dress, -Her perfect face no passion could disarm - Of its reposeful charm. - -Her head oft drooped as in some languid death -Beneath brim tastes of joy, and her rich breath - Heaved faintly from her breast; -Her long eyes, opened fervently and wide, -Did seem with endless rapture to abide -In some fair trance through which the soul possest - Love, ecstasy, and rest. - -But lo--while each man fixed his eyes on her, -And was himself quite fillèd with the stir - His heart did make within-- -The place was full of devils everywhere: -They came in from the desert and the air; -They came from all the palaces of sin, - And each heart they were in: - -They lurked beneath the purples, and did crawl -Or crouch in unseen corners of the hall, - Among the brass and gold; -They climbed the brazen pillars till they lined -The chamber fair; and one went up behind -The throne of Herod--fearful to behold-- - The Serpent king of old. - -Yea, too, before those blinded men there went -Some even to Salome; and they lent - Strange charms she did not shun. -She stretched her hand forth, and inclined her ear; -She knew those men would neither see nor hear: -A devil did support her head, and one - Her steps’ light fabric spun. - -O, then her voice with singing all unveiled, -In no trained timid accents, straight assailed - King Herod’s open heart: -The amorous supplication wove and wound -Soft deadly sins about it; the words found -Fair traitor thoughts there,--singing snakes did dart - Their poison in each part. - -She sang, “O look on me, and look on Love: -We three are here together, and above-- - What heaven may there be? -None for thine heart without this spell of mine, -Yea, this my beauty, yea, these limbs that shine -And make thy senses shudder; and for me, - No heaven without thee! - -“O, all the passion in me on this day -Rises into one song to sweep away - The breakers of Love’s bond; -For is it not a pleasant bond indeed, -And made of all the flowers in life’s mead? -And is not Love a master fair and fond? - And is not Death beyond? - -“O, who are these that will adjure thee, King, -To put away this tender flower-thing, - This love that is thy bliss? -Dost thou think thou canst live indeed, and dare -The joyless remnant of pale days, the bare -Hard tomb, and feed through cold eternities - Thy heart without one kiss? - -“Dost thou think empty prayers shall glad thy lips -Kept red and living with perpetual sips - Of Love’s rich cup of wine? -That thy fair body shall not fall away, -And waste among the worms that bitter day -Thou hast no lover round thy neck to twine - Fond arms like these of mine? - -“I say they are no prophets,--very deaths, -And plagues, and rottenness, do use their breaths - Who speak against delight; -Pale distant slayers of humanity -Have tainted them, and sent them forth to try -Weak lures to make man give up joyous right - Of days for empty night. - -“I tell thee, in their wilderness shall be -No herbs enough for food for them and thee, - No rock to give thee drink; -I tell thee, all their heavens are a cheat, -Or but a mirage to betray thy feet, -And draw thee quicker to some grave’s dread brink - Where thou shalt fall and sink. - -“Turn rather unto me, and hear my voice -Against these desert howlings, and rejoice: - Now surely do I crave -To treble this my beauty, and embalm -My words with deathless thrill, singing the psalm -Of pleasure to thee, King,--so I may save - Thy fair days from this grave. - -“Yea, now of all my beauty will I strive -With these mad prophesiers till I drive - Their ravings from thine ear: -Against their rudeness I will set my grace, -My softness, and the magic of my face; -And spite of all their curses thou shalt hear - And let my voice draw near: - -“Against their loud revilings I will try -The long low-speaking pleadings of my sigh, - All my heart’s tender way; -Against their deserts--here, before thine eyes -My love shall open thee a paradise, -Where, if thou comest, thou shalt surely stay - And seek no better way: - -“And rather than these haters of thy joy -Should anyhow allure thee to destroy - Thy heart’s prosperity,-- -O, I will throw my woman’s arms entwined -About thy body; ere thy lips can find -One word of yielding, I will kiss them dry: - --And failing, let me die! - -“But look on me, for it is in my soul -To make the measure of thy glory whole-- - With many goodly things -To crown thee, yea, with pleasure and with love, -Till there shall scarcely be a name above -King Herod’s, in the mouth of one who sings - The fame of mighty kings: - -“For see how great and fair a realm is this-- -My untried love--the never conquered bliss - All hoarded in my breast; -My beauty and my love were jewels meet -To make the glory of a king complete, -And I,--O thou of kingship half-possest-- - Can crown thee with the rest! - -“I stand before thee--on my head the crown -Of all thou lackest yet in thy renown-- - Ah, King, take this of me! -And in my hand I bear a brimming cup -That sparkles; to thine eyes I hold it up: -A royal draught of life-long pleasure--see, - The wine is fit for thee! - -“Ah, wilt thou pass me? Wilt thou let me give -Thy fair life to some meaner man to live? - Nay, here--if I am sweet-- -Thou shalt not. I will save thee with the sight -Of all my sweetness, save thee with the might -And charm of all my singing lips’ deceit, - Or with my dancing feet. - -“I have indeed some power. A lure lies -Within my tender lips--behind my eyes-- - Concealed in all my way; -And while I seem entreating, I compel, -Yea, while I do but plead, I use a spell-- -Ah secretly--but surely. Who are they - That ever turn away? - -“Now, thou hast barely seen bright glittering -The gilded cup of pleasures that I swung - Before thy reeling gaze,-- -The deep beginnings of sweet drunkenness -Are in thy heart already, more or less, -And on thy soul deliciously there preys - A thirst no joy allays. - -“Dost thou not feel, each time my long hair sweeps -The glowing floor, how through thy being creeps - A vague yet sweet desire?-- -How writhes in every sense a tiny snake -Of pleasure biting till it seems to wake -A fever of sharp lusts that never tire, - Unquenchable as fire? - -“Is there not wrought a madness in thy brain -Each time my thin veils part and close again-- - Each time their flying ring -Is seen a moment’s space encircling me -With filmy changes--each time, rapidly -Rolled down, their cloud-like gauzes billowing - About my limbs they fling? - -“Ah, seek not in this moment some cold will; -Attend to no false pratings that would kill - Thy heart, and make thee fall: -But now a little lean to me, and fear -My charming. Ah, thy fame to me is dear! -Some wound of mine, when me thou couldst not call, - Might slay thee after all. - -“For even while I sing, the unseen grace -Of Love descending hath filled all this place - With most strong prevalence; -His miracle is raging in the breasts -Of all these men, and mightily he rests -On me and thee. His power is too intense, - No curse shall drive him hence. - -“--O, Love, invisible, eternal God, -In whose delicious ways all men have trod, - This day Thou truly hast -My heart: thy inspiration fills my tongue -With great angelic madness; I have sung -Set words that in my bosom thou hast cast-- - Thine am I to the last! - -“My feet are like two liquid flames that leap -For joy at thee; I feel thy spirit sweep-- - Yea, like a southern wind-- -Through all the enchanted fibres of my soul; -I am a harp o’er which thy vast breaths roll, -And one day thou shalt break me: none shall find - A wreck of me behind. - -“And now all palpitating, O I pray -Thy utmost passion while I cry--away - With all Love’s enemies! -A man--borne up between the closing wings -Of two eternities of unknown things, -May catch this seraph charmer as he flies, - And hold him till he dies; - -“And yet some bitter ones, whom coming night -Hath wholly entered, grudge man this small right - Of joy, and seek to fill -His rushing moment with the monstrous hiss -Of shapeless terrors, poisoning the bliss -Brief nestled in his bosom--merely till - Forced out by its death chill! - -“What voice is this the envious wilderness -Hath sent among us foully to distress - And haunt our lives with fear? -What vulture, shrieking on the scent of death-- -What yelping jackal--what insidious breath -Of pestilence hath ventured to draw near, - And enter even here? - -“No kindred flesh of fair humanity -Yon fiend hath, seeking through lives doomed to die - Death’s foretaste to infuse: -His body is but raised up from the slain -Unburied thousands that long years have lain -About the desert: Death himself doth choose - His pale disguise to use. - -“But, even though he be from some new God, -He shall not turn us who love’s ways have trod, - Nor make us break love’s vow. -Nay, rather, if a single beauty dwells -In me, if in that beauty there be spells -To win my will of any man--O thou, - King Herod, hear me now!-- - -“Let _it_ be for his ruin! Ah, let me, -With all in me thou countest fair to see, - Procure this and no more! -If yet, with tender prevalence, my voice -May ask a thing of thee--this is my choice, -Though thou wouldst buy my sweets with all thy store-- - This all I sell them for. - -“Yea, are there lures of softness in my eyes? -My eyes are--for his death. Is my heart’s prize - A seeming fair reward? -My virgin heart is--for his blood here shed; -Its passion--for the falling of his head; -And on that man my kiss shall be outpoured - Who slays him with the sword!” - -Invisible--in supernatural haze, -Of shapes that seem not shapes to human gaze-- - The devils were half awed as they did stand -Around her; each one in his separate hell -All inwardly was forced to praise her well: - And every man was fain to lose his hand - Or do all that sweet woman might command. - -There was a tumult.--Cloven foot and scale -Of fiend with iron heel and coat of mail - Were rolled and hustled in the rage to slay -That fair young Saviour: when they murdered him -And brought his head, still beautiful--though dim - And drenched with blood--the aureole did play - Above it, slowly vanishing away. - -I weep to think of him and his fair light -So quenched--of him thrust into some long night - Of unaccomplishment so soon, alas! -And Thou, who on that ancient palace floor -Didst dance, where dost thou writhe now evermore-- - Salome, Daughter of Herodias? - O woman-viper--may thy curse ne’er pass! - - - - -VI - -HELEN. - - -After long years of all that too sweet sin - That held her ever in the far strange land, -She felt her heart was stricken, felt begin - Great strokes of sorrow smiting like a hand. - -She turned away from all the long delight - Which had so filled and blinded all the past; -The sweet sin rose up bitter in the night - And turned the love to sickness at the last. - -She and her lover in their goodly halls - Gazed on each other no more the old way; -About the face of each clung shadowy palls - Of sadness all unchanged through many a day. - -And now, along the fair courts marble-floored, - Each met the looks of other all aghast -With rueful thoughts unstanched yet ne’er outpoured; - And their trailed robes touched mournful as they passed. - -Into the lonely paths of Ida sweet - For sorrow, dark and very sweet with leaves, -Came Helen: weary at her bosom beat - The sad thoughts all the summer noons and eves. - -Strange: as her eyes sought where the sea was held - Gathered into dim distances of blue, -Down in her heart a dim Past she beheld, - Wherein were memories like an ocean too. - -And strange, there, long up-pent, the memories stirred - Like waves long rolling: in her heart at length -All the fair time from which her years had erred - Came up against her now with all its strength. - -Back from the earliest love-time there was sent - A tide of all the long untasted sweet -Of days forgotten, summers that were spent, - And eves when love and lover used to meet; - -And heavy wafts of perfume that was known - E’en from those dark familiar laurel trees -That hid where love and lover were alone - Rolled back upon the heart with sore disease: - -And from the early home there came no less - Than the reproach of each remembered gaze -Of friends, and want of all the happiness - They gave her in their simple Spartan ways. - -And now her heart strove, longing, to divine - The several thoughts of her they had devised -In separate years that passed by with no sign; - Yea, to have known their pain she would have prized: - -For now when toward them her heart was wrought - Quite weak, and from no tenderness forbore, -They seemed all strong against her, with hard thought - And faces turning from her evermore. - -And with the vision of them so deceived - Came piteous memories of the waning face -Of the Old man who sat all shamed and grieved - Lonely beside the hearth’s familiar place. - -Before her soon in very semblance gleamed - The Spartan homestead there unaltered, plain, -With all the household things; yea, till she dreamed - All were yet to begin that way again, - -And Menelaus the next golden morn - Were still to come for her with wedlock blest, -As though not all deserted and forlorn - He strayed--the lone man without love or rest. - -But most she yearned between her fear and love, - To see him now--divining what was due -To wrath and sorrowing to change and move - His features from the fashion that she knew: - -For now the first time after all those years - The face seemed anyhow her way to seek; ---But turned upon her now with all its tears - And vengeance of reproach at length to wreak; - ---And seemed to hold her through her love come back, - Unforeseen, and how come, she could not tell; -So that the wrath of it, the grief could rack - Her heart,--yet her heart craved therewith to dwell. - -He was her husband--it should ever seem; - And that home, surely it was still her home; -And years since some long voyage or a dream; - And now no more the heart was fain to roam: - -Nay, but was true to where it felt begin - Love and the rosy ecstasies so brief; -And that was surely love and the rest sin, - That all delight and all the other grief. - -And now though none should render her heart’s right - In any fair place where she used to sit, -She would have prayed for a mere alien’s sight - Of all it was so little pain to quit: - -Just to draw near, some silent hour, alone, - Unheralded, unwelcomed, and behold -Her husband and remember him her own, - And be quite near him only as of old: - -And perchance, for some grief that was exprest - Plainly upon his face, she might have dared -To enter in, and after all been blest - Some remnant of his pity to have shared. - ---Alas, too surely, for long years, all thought - And love of her had perished from his heart; -Until on all her memory were wrought - Dishonour, and with him she had no part; - ---And this the while, so held of alien joys, - She spared no thought for him and for his pain, -Nor fancied the least echo of his voice - Sent forth a thousand times to her in vain; - -When, might-be many a time, his earnest grief - Sent it so truly seeking her quite near, -Vainly it fell on some dumb flower or leaf - Beside her, never cherished in her ear. - -And she thought how one day--she heeding nought-- - The last voice on the fruitless air was borne -And died almost a taunt, and the last thought - Of her was changed to hate or utter scorn. - -And she thought how since that time, day by day, - The man had learnt to live without her need, -And been quite happy perhaps many a way, - All without loving her or taking heed. - -And that which was the great woe had scarce grown - In any gradual way; but with a burst -Her life was torn apart from peace, and thrown - Far from the love that seemed its own at first - -All for a mere girl’s fancy too--a whim - For foreign faces and some ruddier south, -And no real choice to die away from him - Who won the truest troth in love and youth. - -Now it was bitter to be quite outcast, - And bitter--when this thought of dying crost -Her heart--to reach him no more at the last - Than in mere rumour, as of one long lost. - -She looked upon the great sea rolled between - Herself and Lacedæmon: but the Past, -The sins and all the falseness that had been - Seemed like an ocean deeper and more vast. - - - - -VII. - -A TROTH FOR ETERNITY. - - ---So, Woman! I possess you. Yes, at length. - Once wholly and for ever you are mine! - -That cursèd burden on my memory, -Your whole past life’s betrayal--let it go: -Ay, let it perish, and, for me at least, -Let life begin this moment, though we die -But three hours hence! - - Is this your little voice -My Love, enthralling, winning my whole faith -With mere increasing sweetness in its tones, -Dissolving, exorcising, as it used, -Ah too infallibly, the phantom thing, -The doubt, the dread within me? ah, my Sweet, -Is this once more your voice assuring me-- -With some rare music rather than one word -Of those fair whispered oaths of constancy; -Yea, till, as ever, I am come to smile -And glory in you, and believe you pure-- -All mine, for ever, past a change in thought? - -But no! _It is the little voice of the Steel -Here safe against my breast and fairly hid: -The Steel is singing to me, very low, -A tender song entrancing me_;--O joy! -The Steel says you will ne’er escape me more; -You will be true to me; you will be mine; -No man shall touch you after me; no face, -However strangely fair, shall have the art -To draw one look from you, to charm and rouse -That wondrous little snake of treachery -That was for ever lurking for me--sure -To spring upon me out of the least look -Or promise, safe to be curled up beneath -The simplest seeming offering in your hand. - -Yes, ’tis a thing at length as good as this -The steel is singing to me: did you hear, -You should but love it--since it pleads so well -It makes me put whole faith in you once more. -For now three days and nights indeed--while I, -Contending for you with the love I gave -Against the curse I owed you, raged and thought -It was my madness--O this little voice -Was striving with me, singing all the time, -Upon a low sweet soothing tune, strange words -Of promise that seemed like the distant taunts -Of all my past beliefs, and that I sought -To cover with my curses; till, last night, -My soul grew faint with hearing them--how sweet, -How full of good they were. Then I fell still, -Yea, stunned, and with my head upon the ground; -And through the shut bleared darkness of my eyes, -I seemed to see the room about me lit -And fearful, and the Sword from off the wall -Unscabbarded before me in the midst, -Most terrible and living, and in light-- -Just like a great archangel with the glare -Of burning expiations full on him. - -O then my soul did call upon the Steel; -And the Steel heard and swore to me. My soul -Tore forth the hidden-rooted love of thee, -Thy treasured words--each one a cruel worm -That gnaws me through for ever, thy fair face -From the first inmost shrine, thy early kiss, -Thy separate falsenesses, all my despair, -My utter helplessness--and flung them down, -The very writhing entrails of my life -Become one inward horror to be borne -No longer. And there came about me, loud, -The mocking of a thousand impious tongues, -That seemed to clash and rattle hideously -From ancient hollow sepulchres of men -Long buried and forgotten; for my love -Their gibe was, for my faith, for my despair, -For my long blindness: and at last I knew, -And, understanding, called with a great voice -Upon the Steel: and the Steel heard me there, -And swore to me--for you and me and God! - -_Sing on, O little voice: She cannot hear;_ -_There is a pact between us._ - - Now I stand -And feel her eyes’ soft element within, -Upon, around me, melting away life -Into these few full throbbing moments.--Lo! -Her tears again--her disavowal clean -Of any thought of falseness. Lo! her words-- -I might have lived beside her all these days -In perfect joy; words, blandishments and tears -Already staggering me with their old might -Of coiling fascinations; and one tear -A drop that, falling straight into my heart, -Fills it too full for speaking a long time -The ready thing of pardon and of love. - -See! am I Lord here?--This fair sight of Her, -Working the whole impassioned prodigy -As ’twere of all her beauty, just to win -_Me_ this time and, at any cost, be queen -Of this one present, as of many pasts-- -Hath ever it been fairer, more complete? - -Who else hath had her more and called her his -Than here I have her calling herself mine? -I would indeed he might draw near just now, -Yea, void of feigning, in some wonted way, -And feel a cold look from her plant him there -Outside the circle where this molten love -Of her whole smile is showered upon me, -And know her no more his now than mine then. - -But what do I here with a thought like this? -Those men I deemed my rivals--what are they -To me now? Why I could put them to shame -And taunt them now myself for insolent -Pretenders who have never known what ’tis -To conquer love.--Ay, what compared with me -Seem all the famous lovers of great queens -Or splendid cruel mistresses, whose woes-- -Deceived, betrayed, reviled--have made them shine -With some bright share of every age’s tears? -What but mere fools? weak sufferers of wrong -From creatures whom they held in their own hands? -Or passionless, or lacking any strength -To seize their fair worlds passing them so nigh -Rather than linger in some sickly trail -Of sweetness left behind and die of shame? -O all ye Messalinas of old time-- -Ye Helens, Cleopatras, ye Dalilahs, -Ye Maries, ye Lucrezias, Catharines-- -Fair crowned or uncrowned--courtezans alike -Who played with men a calculated game-- -Your moves their heart-wounds, deaths and ruins--sure -Of your inconstancy and their soft loves, -Had I been lover in the stead of them, -Methinks the histories of you had been changed, -And some of your worst falsenesses redeemed -By flawless faithfulness to one last love. - -But now I am content, I have love here; -And I thank God for love--yea, is it sweet? -Yea, is it best of all his gifts to man? ---I see her splendid smile there--feel her arms -Already coming round me!--Who but I -Can answer? Who but I have had it whole -Like this? _(The Steel is singing to me now, -Still hidden in my breast--a low sweet song.)_ - -Ah, this time there is no doubt! ’tis all true: -Her arms may fold me--fondle me, and I -May wholly yield myself to their caress -Quite sure it leaves no atom in reserve -For any other after me. And lo, -She is right worthy of a greater one -Than all the lovers that have ever loved -And, trembling, lost their women and themselves: -For splendour--such as stains for me and turns -My eyes disgusted from the vaunted white -Of many a bosom impudently bared-- -Is in that bosom closely veiled, whose veils -I may undo--yea now, and with these hands; -It is my right. And then, O joy, to know -That this, so much more wonderful than those, -Shall ne’er be seen by anyone but me! -(Ah, sing on little voice!) But, as I said, ---Yes, she is worthy!--Come to me, my Sweet: -You have the greatest beauty God has made. -I think that. Let me kiss your forehead once, -Twice, thrice, and say it is diviner white, -And hallowed with a brighter radiant grace -Than Cleopatra’s was, and swear therewith -I kiss it with a passion greater far -Than Antony’s was: yea, let me write there -This thing in kisses that none can efface. -“Ah, you believe me now, dear love?” she says: -Yes: I say yes. _(Sing on! ’Twas you sang: yes; -You bade me answer so. I trust you most.)_ - -“Dear Love, let us go lie upon that bed. -I should delight to know it just the grave, -So I might keep this faith and happiness, -That yours--this mine--both safe for evermore, -So I might lie down sure that no mischance, -No doubt, no calumny, could come to change -Me--yours, you--mine, and peace for evermore.” - -She says this, and she leads me by the hand. - -Her head is like a lily drooping down. - ---My passion! Yea I will not baulk thee now: -I need not: for I feel that what I am -Is something more than man, that conquers man. -What is it? I know not: a flame, a thought; -But cold, but calm, unalterable, pure, -As far above the fume of the base lust -That dulls and levels all men, as, perhaps, -Was that strange flame or thought that made Man first -And Woman then to bring the man to nought, -Which fate I, who indeed am not a god, -Who am not Hercules, nor Samson, no, -Nor Antony--which fate I yet will change. -Nay, passion, rather I will urge thee on; -For I shall be above thee all the time -A cold impartial watcher, hard to foil, -Attentive that thou gettest all thine own -Not tampered with--lest, in some little thing, -Thou art betrayed, or with a semblance served, -Yea, for a blind fool as thou ever wert. - ---O take thy fill of looking on this snow -In which thy heart finds such delicious death; -Do out thine utmost revel on the bloom -Of this rare flower’s beauty, now at full; -Whose summer is just perfected to-night -And laid before thee, heightened with the tint -Of first mysterious sadness, like a touch -Of far-off autumns. Do not shun that mouth: -For there, indeed, a thing most dainty-sweet-- -The last kiss that was sown a precious seed -By Love at the beginning--waits for thee, -The fullest, the most perfect of them all. -The earth will never fashion forth, and Love -Will never with his summer paint again -So beautiful a flower. - - I am clasped -With such arms as I would might hold me so -For evermore in heaven. All around, -The strange unearthly fragrance of her hair -Is coming up, and, with an element -Divine as some transparent rosy cloud, -Enwrapping both of us; ay, and, as though-- -A very cloud of magic--it had borne -Us, lifted far away from thought, and life, -And days, and earthliness--we seem to voyage -Through most ethereal atmospheres, and seas -Upon whose soft sustaining waves we drift, -And draw no sound from either distant shore -Of ending or beginning: and the bliss, -Unspeakable and perfect, that we feel -Seems making and remaking evermore -Our souls through this eternity. - - Alas! -One little thread--I strive in vain to break-- -Is holding me: a memory, a thought, -The pricking of a half-numbed wound through sleep, -The constant teazing of a wingéd thing, -The bitterness wherewith some ceaseless fang -Of life gnaws through, and breaks our dream of it-- -Some such pursues and racks me. But ’tis well: -I know the dream is mine to make my own; -I know what dragon guards this paradise, -And with what paltry lies he fools mankind. -Ah, how the universe must jeer to see -All men so smoothly cheated of their own!-- -And when I slay this dragon, I have all. - -I cannot stir now. Many a knotted tress -Is on me, like a thousand-threaded chain -Twined many times about my limbs. I dream -No more: I feel her small and gliding hands -Seek mine; and while the burning rapid words -Her full heart furnishes hiss in mine ear, -My sight is peering blindly through the dark -Of her vast hair--a cavernous abyss -Of blackness traversed by mad shooting sparks -Or fearful gleams of blood.--What things she says! -“--Let this be as it were my bridal night, -If you doubt all the Past. I am yours now; -Take this for the beginning, and trust me; -I will be yours for ever,--not a look, -A word, a thought shall e’er dishonour you.”-- -And, if I had not heard this very thing -Before, once, twice, innumerable times, -I should not plunge as I do now, my head -Still deeper in the fathomless dark hair, -And see tears falling from me--as it seems-- -To fall on through a drear eternity. - -But, hark, another voice! Whence comes it?--Whence? -From here, beneath the pillow; yes, ’tis harsh -And not like hers; but speaks a sweet thing--this: -_I swear for Her it shall be so: trust Me!_ - -Ah, yes--my Love, my own, I answer you; -I part with all the Past, forgive, deny, -Refuse to see it. All my soul is yours; -I never loved a moment in this world, -But what was love was wholly meant for you. -Yea, even before I saw you as you are, -Or knew your name, the vaguest breaths of love -Were but sent forward to me from the days -When you should come, preparing me for you. -I know in truth there never was a time -Wherein I saw no part of you--nor sign -To love you by; for all my sun, my light, -My flowers, my world would be the saddest blank, -The day you were not; you have these in you, -And are yourself in them; and, on the day -You go, you take them all away with you; -And so ’twas you I saw when I saw them -And said:--“_That Lady mine_ shall have a head -Like yonder drooping lily on whose white -The summer’s breath may never set a stain; -And She shall have a heaven for her hair -As deep, and dark, and splendid, as the one -I dream beneath; and She shall have such eyes -As ever seem to me those still blue lakes -I come on in the twilight of the woods -And find wide open under the thick fringe -Of violets--that fascinate me so -With gazing on me; yes, and, for her smile, -She shall but use that magic of the sun -That so transfigures all the day with light, -And gives my heart already such a thrill -As if She smiled at me:”--my Love, ’twas you -I saw then, dreamed of, waited for; ’twas you; -My heart attests it, looking on you now.-- -So this of mine is such a perfect love -You see, it could not change nor turn away;-- -It is the only love God made for you, -As you He made for me and from the first -Revealed to me. Therefore it cannot be -That you are false to me,--that I no way -Can save and keep you mine--you whom He gave -To me for ever, to be brought as mine -Before Him at the last. My precious one, -You are all worthy of me--are my crown -Untarnished, perfect, for you have not sinned; -’Tis I have sinned,--not being strong at once -To save both pure in you. Did not your lips -Completely make you mine of your own will? -Did you not swear yourself to me at first, -Yea, in God’s name, before him? So that I-- -Yes, I, have let you, all against your heart, -Be brought to do sad things you would have shunned; -Because I had the way, and used it not, -To keep you from them.--Ah, I curse myself! ---My own, my Love!--those gentle words of yours, -Those promises--repeat them; yes, once more: - -You will be mine; you are mine; yes, my Love, -I do believe you now; I may, I can-- -(For _that_ sings under the pillow; believe Me!--) -I bless and kiss you for them all. - - She sleeps. - -_The Steel is singing to me now; its voice_ -_Creeps through and through;_--go on, she cannot hear-- -_The things it sings are death and love; ay, love_ -_That death keeps true;_--She sleeps, she cannot hear. - -There is no sort of madness in my brain; -But rather a great strength, a calm, as though -A more than human spirit dwelt with mine. -And yet I do perceive that, since last night, -My eyes have been bewildered with the glare -Of mighty blades and swords that seem to whirl -And strike around me, and transform the world -With an exceeding splendour cold and bare; -A thousand films are as it were cut through; -And all the beauty, supernatural -And real of things seems only to endure. -The Steel is an immense magician: yes-- -Love, Beauty, Life--a touch can change them all -And make them wholly fit for me and great. -See now where _it_ is gleaming through her hair! -’Tis like a fair barbaric ornament -Ablaze with glancing points of diamonds -Stuck in and out between the writhing black. -Or, rather, ’tis as fearful and as bright -As some fierce snake of azure lightning curled -Sinister under the dark mass of night, -That ever, with his sudden forkéd flash -Piercing some crevice, doth illumine it. - -I could be gazing on this sight for hours. - -O, Woman!--you are greatest in the world: -You have all fairest things; all joy is yours -To give and take away; you have all love; -Your beauty is to man’s heart as the sun -That doles out day and night to the whole earth; -You have strange gifts of passion and sweet words: -In truth you are right splendid,--and well fit, -I think, to be the leman of a god; -But all too fair, and yet not good enough, -To be the spouse and helpmate of one man. ---For this: there is a serpent in you hid; -It dwells in the invisible of thought, -Or crouches in some corner of your heart, -Or is engendered in the ardent flame -Of your quick passions,--where, it matters not; -But never doth it cease so to distil -Its wily poison into all you are -Or do or feel, it makes you turn and stab -Where most you thought to love,--it sets your lips -In league with falsehood to betray your heart, -Puts plotting in your heart against your lips. - -You cannot will your heart to any man -But you must seek, for very wantonness-- -As tempts the snake within you--just the straight -Betrayal of that man--his love, his faith, -As though you had not willed yourself at first: -And if you did not this somehow, your life -Would seem to you a nipped and withered thing, -Your beauty good for nought. You are made so. ---Therefore, my Love, I will not let you wake. -Nay--though you are so pure now and have sworn-- -Lest you betray me as you did last time, -And times before that, having sworn as now. -But you are mine--my beautiful, my own! -And your lips said it while your heart beat here -Against mine--thrilling with a thought of me; -Your looks were almost piteous with a prayer -That I--that God would save you. Shall your mouth, -The chaste, the holy one that I have kissed -Be desecrate once more? Shall your own arms -Embrace and hug the very shame of you? -Shall this, your heart that made you mine, be false ---Go once more seeking out adulteries? - -Not so: I strike the holy steel in it. - ---It was the only way to keep her mine. - -[Illustration] - - - - -(1867.) - - -O woman whose familiar face I hold - In my most sacred thought as in a shrine, - Who in my memories art become divine-- -Dost thou remember now those years of old -When out of all thine own life thou didst mould - This life and breathe thy heart in this of mine, - Winning, for faith in that fair work of thine, -To rest and be in heaven?--Alas, behold!-- -Another woman coming after thee - Hath had small pity,--with a wanton kiss - Hath quite consumed my heart and ruined this -The life that was thy work: O, Mother, see; - Thou hast lived all in vain, done all amiss; -Come down from heaven again, and die with me! - - - - -DEATH. - - -I close my eyes and see the inward things: - The strange averted spectre of my soul - Is sitting undivulged, angelic, whole, -Beside the dim internal flood that brings -Mysterious thought or dreams or murmurings, - From the immense Unknown: beneath him roll - The urging formless waves beyond control -And darkened by the vague foreshadowings - As heretofore; yea, for He hath not stirred. - Too weak was that my life, too poor each word -To lure my soul from all it waiteth for: - --I am with God who holds His purpose still -And maketh and remaketh evermore; - I am with God and waiting for His will. - - - - -THE FOUNTAIN OF TEARS. - - -If you go over desert and mountain, - Far into the country of sorrow, - To-day and to-night and to-morrow, -And maybe for months and for years; - You shall come, with a heart that is bursting - For trouble and toiling and thirsting, -You shall certainly come to the fountain -At length,--to the Fountain of Tears. - -Very peaceful the place is, and solely - For piteous lamenting and sighing, - And those who come living or dying -Alike from their hopes and their fears; - Full of cypress-like shadows the place is, - And statues that cover their faces: -But out of the gloom springs the holy -And beautiful Fountain of Tears. - -And it flows and it flows with a motion - So gentle and lovely and listless, - And murmurs a tune so resistless -To him who hath suffered and hears-- - You shall surely--without a word spoken, - Kneel down there and know your heart broken, -And yield to the long curb’d emotion -That day by the Fountain of Tears. - -For it grows and it grows, as though leaping - Up higher the more one is thinking; - And ever its tunes go on sinking -More poignantly into the ears: - Yea, so blesséd and good seems that fountain, - Reached after dry desert and mountain, -You shall fall down at length in your weeping -And bathe your sad face in the tears. - -Then, alas! while you lie there a season, - And sob between living and dying, - And give up the land you were trying -To find mid your hopes and your fears; - --O the world shall come up and pass o’er you; - Strong men shall not stay to care for you, -Nor wonder indeed for what reason -Your way should seem harder than theirs. - -But perhaps, while you lie, never lifting - Your cheek from the wet leaves it presses, - Nor caring to raise your wet tresses. -And look how the cold world appears,-- - O perhaps the mere silences round you-- - All things in that place grief hath found you, -Yea, e’en to the clouds o’er you drifting, -May soothe you somewhat through your tears. - -You may feel, when a falling leaf brushes - Your face, as though some one had kissed you; - Or think at least some one who missed you -Hath sent you a thought,--if that cheers; - Or a bird’s little song, faint and broken, - May pass for a tender word spoken: ---Enough, while around you there rushes -That life-drowning torrent of tears. - -And the tears shall flow faster and faster, - Brim over, and baffle resistance, - And roll down bleared roads to each distance -Of past desolation and years; - Till they cover the place of each sorrow, - And leave you no Past and no morrow: -For what man is able to master -And stem the great Fountain of Tears? - -But the floods of the tears meet and gather; - The sound of them all grows like thunder: - --O into what bosom, I wonder, -Is poured the whole sorrow of years? - For Eternity only seems keeping - Account of the great human weeping: -May God then, the Maker and Father-- -May He find a place for the tears! - - - - -LOVE AFTER DEATH. - - -There is an earthly glimmer in the Tomb: - And, healed in their own tears and with long sleep, - My eyes unclose and feel no need to weep; -But, in the corner of the narrow room, -Behold Love’s spirit standeth, with the bloom - That things made deathless by Death’s self may keep. - O what a change! for now his looks are deep, -And a long patient smile he can assume: -While Memory, in some soft low monotone, - Is pouring like an oil into mine ear - The tale of a most short and hollow bliss, -That I once throbbed indeed to call my own, - Holding it hardly between joy and fear,-- - And how that broke, and how it came to this. - - - - -SOWN SEED. - - -I wandered dreaming through a mead; - And it was sowing-season there; -As one who sows and takes no heed - I cast my dreams upon the air: -And each dream was a golden seed - That in my life some flower should bear. - ---O sowing-season bright and gay, - To have you back I am most fain! -O sowing season find some way - To bring me here each golden grain -I cast upon the air that day, - That I may sow them all again. - -For some, that fairest should have been, - About the world they have been tost -And borne no flowers that I have seen; - And some have taken wing and crost -The sea, or through the blue serene - Gone up to heaven and been lost. - -O, sowing season, come once more, - Bring back each golden seed to me! -For one, indeed, grew up and bore - No flower of gladness, good to see-- -A thing to look upon right sore - --A grief that in my life should be. - -One other truly did beget - Some blossom of the June that fell -In May; and one, a violet - Whose death upon my heart doth dwell; -The last seed hath not blossomed yet: - Come back and bring this one as well. - ---What! the whole sudden summer? Yea; - The last one hath come up a rose! -O sowing season, you may stay; - It is in my Love’s heart it grows; -And she hath shown it me to-day: - I keep this one and give up those. - - - - -A DISCORD. - - -It came to pass upon a summer’s day, - When from the flowers indeed my soul had caught - Fresh bloom, and turned their richness into thought, -That--having made my footsteps free to stray-- -They brought me wandering by some sudden way - Back to the bloomless city, and athwart - The doleful streets and many a closed-up court -That prisoned here and there a spent noon-ray. -O how most bitterly upon me broke -The sight of all the summerless lost folk!-- - For verily their music and their gladness - Could only seem to me like so much sadness, -Beside the inward rhapsody of art -And flowers and _Chopin_-echoes at my heart. - - - - -GALANTERIE. - - -O angel, that in some unmeasured region - Keepest the store of beauteous things unsaid! -Once more do thou take even from their legion - Verse of the sweetest, verse no man hath read; -And go with that--saying thou art from me-- -Unto my Love wherever she may be; - And speak therewith all tender things and fair - Touching the beauty of her eyes and hair, -Her hands, her feet--all of Her thou may’st see, - E’en to the jewels she shall chance to wear. - -As to her eyes, I think thou shalt have reason - Setting the azure of them far above -God’s blue of heaven; yea, who shall know thy treason - But I who teach it thee and She my love? -And therefore, fear thou nowise to express, -Touching her hair, how much its every tress - Doth shine above all gold that the sun yields - And the fair colour of the harvest fields: -But scarce shalt thou be slow to praise, I guess, - Soon as thou know’st what spell her beauty wields. - -And, if so be she cease that she is doing, - And give thee welcome for thy verses’ sake, -Do thou with some most tender sort of wooing - Engage her hand, and cause it to forsake -Its silken task or pastime on the lute; -For of its beauty thou shouldst not be mute, - But celebrate it soon in such a strain - Thenceforward it shall be no longer fain -To do its lightest toil: so for thy suit - My Lady’s whole attendance thou shalt gain. - -Then, howsoe’er thou dost behold that wonder, - The rare imperial foot of Her my queen; ---Yea, if thou may’st but glimpse it nestled under - The broidered border of her robe, or e’en -If haply, some unguarded hour of rest, -Thou hast such bliss as I have never possest, - To see that spotless Lady all reclined - And through dim tumbled veils with thine eye find -Her spirit-slender foot,--then do thy best, - And be thou neither faint of heart nor blind! - -But so with every spell of piteous pleading, - And the full magic that was wont of old -To fill my verse and charm all men to heeding, - Frame thou thy praise of that thou dost behold-- -That her most matchless foot shall even start -Out of its languishment and take my part, - To bring my Love not otherwhere than here, - To me, and to the place where she is dear: -Go now and do this, if thou still hast art; - And I shall wait the while in love and fear. - - - - -THE GLORIOUS LADY. - -“La gloriosa donna della mia mente.” - DANTE. - - -I. - -I see You in the time that’s fled, - Long dead; -I see you in the years to be - After me; -And for all solace I am given, - Night or day, -To dream or think of you in heaven - Far away. - -I have the colour of your hair - Everywhere; -I have your beauty all by heart, - Cannot part -From aught of you--I love you so-- - Though I try, -I know I shall not find you though - Till I die. - -When I have darkened all the day, - Put away -The world and the world’s sights and sweets - --Mere deceits, -The blinding blaze of the false lights - That arise -Between my spirit and the heights - And the skies-- - -When I have turned from the pale face, - Sickly grace, -Faint hair and hue of heart, thin smiles - That cover wiles -Of looks that fail and lips that chill, - --All the drear -And pallid cheats of love that kill - The heart here-- - -Then do I dream--oh far away-- - Another day; -Another light where truer hues, - Reds and blues, -Live as in living eyes and cheeks; - Where love lives, -And all my spirit loves and seeks - Love gives. - -Nay, your true heart is not this pale - Thing to fail -Short of such promised love as dies - In such eyes: -I build up all the world anew,-- - Nay, above, -I make another world--where You - Build up Love; - -Behold your eyes are in the stead - Of these dead,-- -Pure seas of looks, with many a shore - Of worlds more; -Behold, instead of these poor moulds, - These mere casts -In some first clay--no stuff that holds - Love that lasts-- - -Why! life--_that_ love; and then its fresh - Robe of flesh, -With--O what chords of sense that thrill - With love’s will, -Unchecked by death or weariness, - Those dull foes -Of every feeling, more or less, - The world knows! - -In place of all the glassy cheats-- - Your true sweets, ---Of all the lives with which Death plays, - All the days -Left dim and void when Hope’s own sun - Dare not shine-- -In place of all and every one, - You divine! - -I know the splendour that you were-- - --You shall be; -I see that nothing is so fair - As you there; -I know that you--the thing I crave-- - Men shall see -Again, when I am in the grave, - --After me. - -O, whose shall be the barren years? - Whose the tears? -God, who of all this world of ours - Gathers flowers ---Taketh and maketh heaven, and faileth - Not at all, -Maketh a heaven that prevaileth - Out of all-- - -Shall God have care for this and this - --Flowers that miss -The love that gathers and that saves? - For these graves, -Shall love to be, or love that’s past, - Safe above, -Be less than perfected at last, - Less than Love? - -O, who shall have the barren years? - Who the tears? -You, World that gave me a false kiss, - Shall have this: -But I--I know that Love hath been, - And shall be -Again, when I am no more seen, - --After me. - - -II. - -I see You with the face they paint - For some saint -Born and saved in some sublime - Olden time, -Crowned with the gorgeous golden-waved - Aureole; -Just such a saint as should have saved - My own soul. - -Yes; for you have the human grace - In your face -Painted upon the panel there, - And what hair! -‘Fra’--who was he? I forget-- - Who could paint -Such a woman wholly, and yet - Such a saint? - -From the dim cathedral height - Falls the light; -I could think it for a while - Christ’s smile -From the great window-scene above - Strangely shed -Toward you, resting like Christ’s love - On your head. - -O the splendid purple niche - Deep and rich, -Stained of the colour of your soul - Strong and whole, -Full of the prevalence of prayers - And piteous plaint -You made for men and sins all theirs - --You a saint! - -The niche a little narrow: well, - As the cell -Your world, your body--all things seen-- - Must have been -About the soul that day by day - Groped and felt -To God’s own house and found the way - As you knelt: - -In an attitude of prayer - O how fair! -All the body crouched, constrained - As if pained -With the spirit’s inward groan - To entreat -For a sin you could not own, - O how sweet! - -Hands God making must have praised; - Clasped and raised -Holy mediæval way - Used to pray; -Sky all wrapped about your head - Blue and sweet, -Earth all golden from the tread - Of your feet. - -God, who of all this world of ours - Gathers flowers, -Gathered you in the old sublime - Flower time: -If God had left some flowers like you-- - Who can tell?-- -He might have had yet one or two - Flowers that fell. - -O then there were great sins of course; - Men were worse -Some ways no doubt; at any rate - Men were great: -We cannot bear their mail, much less - Lose or win -Their heavens, through their great holiness - Or great sin. - -There were high things for men to see, - Do, or be; -Fair struggles after every throne: - And to atone -Fair crowns and kingdoms for the best; - All men strove, -And, loss or gain, for each man’s rest - There was love. - -And men and women bore their part - Heart to heart, -For oh! the women and the men - Loved then; -And love from love you could not break, - Half to save; -If one sinned, for the other’s sake - God forgave. - -Would thou wert yet, thou great and old - Time of gold! -Wert thou with me, or could I flee - Back to thee, -God might have had one other flower - Nigh to fall, -And I known love at least one hour - --Once for all. - -O who shall have the barren years? - Who the tears? -One with false bosom and cold kiss - May have this: -But somewhere, unless love forget - His old way, -There shall be something better yet - --Ay, some day. - - - - -LOST BLISSES. - - -Think, O Heart, what sweet--had you waited - A moment, on such a day-- - Had yet been to do or to say -That shall never be said now or done! - -Think what beautiful worlds uncreated - The clouds then bore back to the sun; -What blisses were all frustrated; - What loves, that were almost begun! - -Think, O Life,--had your stream but drifted - To this or that holier Past, - Or Future that must come at last-- -Think, O sorrowful Life, and repent-- - -How the sorrowful days had been gifted - With solace and ravishment, -And year after year slowly lifted - To heavens of golden content! - - - - -THE SPECTRE OF THE PAST. - - -On the great day of my life-- - On the memorable day-- -Just as the long inward strife - Of the echoes died away, - Just as on my couch I lay - Thinking thought away; -Came a Man into my room, -Bringing with him gloom. - -Midnight stood upon the clock, - And the street sound ceased to rise; -Suddenly, and with no knock, - Came that Man before my eyes: - Yet he seemed not anywise - My heart to surprise, -And he sat down to abide -At my fireside. - -But he stirred within my heart - Memories of the ancient days; -And strange visions seemed to start - Vividly before my gaze, - Yea, from the most distant haze - Of forgotten ways: -And he looked on me the while -With a most strange smile. - -But my heart seemed well to know - That his face the semblance had -Of my own face long ago - Ere the years had made it sad, - When my youthful looks were clad - In a smile half glad; -To my heart he seemed in truth -All my vanished youth. - -Then he named me by a name - Long since unfamiliar grown, -But remembered for the same - That my childhood’s ears had known; - And his voice was like my own - In a sadder tone -Coming from the happy years -Choked, alas, with tears. - -And, as though he nothing knew - Of that day’s fair triumphing, -Or the Present were not true, - Or not worth remembering, - All the Past he seemed to bring - As a piteous thing -Back upon my heart again, -Yea, with a great pain: - -“Do you still remember the winding street - In the grey old village?” He seemed to say; -“And the long school days that the sun made sweet - And the thought of the flowers from far away? -And the faces of friends whom you used to meet - In that village day by day, ---Ay, the face of this one or of that?” he said, -And the names he named were names of the dead - Who all in the churchyard lay. - -“Do you still remember your brother’s face, - And his soft light hair, and his eyes’ deep blue, -And the child’s pet name that in every place - Was once so familiar to him and to you? -And the innocent sports and the butterfly chase - That lasted the bright day through?” ---O this time, I thought of the churchyard and sighed, -For I thought of the dead lying side by side, - And my brother who lay there too. - -“And do you remember the far green hills; - Or the long straight path by the side of the stream; -Or the road that led to the farm and the mills, - And the fields where you oft used to wander or dream -Or follow each change of your childish wills - Like the dance of some gay sunbeam?”-- -Then, alas, from right weeping I could not refrain, -For indeed all those things I remembered again,-- - As of yesterday they did seem. - -And I thought of a day in a far lost Spring, - When the sun with a kiss set the wild flowers free; -When my heart felt the kiss and the shadowy wing - Of some beautiful spirit of things to be, -Who breathed in the song that the wild birds sing - Some deep tender meaning for me,-- -Who undid a strange spell in the world as it were, -Who set wide sweet whispers abroad in the air,-- - Made a presence I could not see. - -O that whisper my heart seemed to understand! - O that spell it took hold on right willing feet! -To that beautiful spirit I gave my hand, - And he led me that day up the village street, -And out through the fields and the fragrant land, - And on through the pathways sweet; -Yea, still on, with a semblance of some new bliss, -Through the world he has led me from that day to this - With a tender and fair deceit. - -“O for what have you wandered so far--so long?” - Said the voice that was e’en as my voice of old: -“O for what have you done to the Past such wrong? - Was there no fair dream on your own threshold? -In your childhood’s home was there no fresh song? - --Was your heart then all so cold? - Why, at length, are you weary and lone and sad, -But for casting away all the good that you had - With the peace that was yours of old? - -“Have you wholly forgotten the words you said, - When you stood by a certain mound of earth, -When you vowed with your heart that that place you made - The last burial place for your love and your mirth, -For the pure past blisses you therein laid - Were surely your whole life’s worth?-- -O, the angels who deck the lone graves with their tears -Have cared for this, morning and evening, for years, - But of yours there has been long dearth: - -“In the pure pale sheen of a hallowed night, - When the graves are looking their holiest, -You may see it more glistering and more bright - And holier-looking than all the rest; -You may see that the dews and the stars’ strange light - Are loving that grave the best; -But, perhaps, if you went in the clear noon-day, -After so many years you might scarce find the way - Ere you tired indeed of the quest: - -“For the path that leads to it is almost lost; - And quite tall grass-flowers of sickly blue -Have grown up there and gathered for years, and tost - Bitter germs all around them to grow up too; -For indeed all these years not a man has crost - That pathway--not even You!”-- -But alas! for these words to my heart he sent, -For I knew it was Marguérite’s grave that he meant, - And I felt that the words were true. - -Then the dim sweet faces of them of yore - Seemed to start from the mist where the memory lies; -And each one was as sweet and as dear as before; - But a piteous look was in all their eyes-- -Yea, the long smile of sadness; and each one bore - A reproach in some tender wise: -Till my bosom was troubled and sorely thrilled -With the thought of them all, and my ears were filled - With a sound of the mingling of sighs. - -And my heart, where the memories of them were cast - And as buried and choked in the dust of the years, -Became peopled, it seemed, with the shapes of the Past; - And the voice of my brother grew fresh in my ears: -So my dried up eyes were softened at last - To weeping some few sweet tears; -But the Man who was sitting at my fireside-- -He covered his face with his hands and cried - As I did in those earlier years. - -Then I faltered,--“O Spectre of my lost Youth! - All too well at thy pleading the sad thoughts wake, -With the bitter regret of the Past, and in truth - The whole love of the fair things that all men forsake; -And for this thy reproach I am filléd with ruth-- - My heart seemeth nigh to break: -Ah! right gladly would I now return with thee -To those loves and those lovers, if that might be, - And be happy for their sweet sake. - -“And, O Spectre that wearest my look--my face, - And art ever with them as the thought they keep -To remind them of me in the changeless place - In the changeless Past where the memories sleep,-- -Do thou tell them I am not all barren of grace, - Nor have buried their love so deep, -But that now after so long toward them I yearn, -And that often the thought of them all may return, - And that often it makes me weep.” - -Then, alas! I was troubled and filled with shame, - As I looked on His face and beheld him fair; -For his locks were as gold, and his eyes as a flame; - And I knew that one winter had blanched my hair, -And that surely my looks were no longer the same - As in earlier days they were: -For I feared he should mock me and tell them of this, -And that even my tears were but scant beside his. - O, this thought was a hard one to bear! - -But at length I fell dreaming beneath the might - Of each spell of the Past whence I cared not to start; -And I saw Him some time by the flickering light, - As the one in my dream who was playing my part; -Till his semblance grew dim and was gone from my sight - As a dream of the Past will depart. -Then the Spirit whose beauty has led me till now, -Came and breathed a sweet breath on my feverish brow, - And the strain of this verse in my heart. - - - - -A FADING FACE. - - -Out of a dim and slowly fading place - In the deep dwelling mem’ries,--as it seems, - Mingled of purple mem’ries and of dreams-- -The perfect marble features of Your face -Shine and are seen: each brow is like the space - Pearly in heaven after the sun-beams; - And all the curving of the mouth still gleams -Where many a gracious smile hath left a grace; - But the eyes are within, or all too far, -Or changed now to some element of heaven - Purer and subtler than the blue they were; - They meet me not. I know not where you are; -With God most--wholly in the grave,--or even - In the remembrance of you that is here. - - - - -THE HEART’S QUESTIONS. - -_Chopin’s Nocturne, Op. 15, no. 3._ - - -When the heaven is blue, -Or the stars look down, -Or the golden crown -Glows upon the hills,-- - -When the sky of tears -Lets the sunlight through, -And the heart a moment thrills, -Yea, and utters too,-- - -Who discerns? who hears? -Who but I--and perhaps You? - -When some thin thought-wave -From the shadow shore -Brings the Voice once more -From beyond the grave; - -When some pain is prest -Deep into the breast, -And the inward thoughts are swords -Killing one with sadness; - -Most when love is strong, -And the anguish long -Rolls up in a haste of words -Ending all in madness-- - -Who is he that soothes or cheers? -Who believes? who hears? - -Ay, when the Heart grieves, -Pants, prays--who believes?-- - -Ay, when the Heart cries, -When it breaks, when it dies,-- -(Ah, why was the Heart born!--) -Who shall save? who shall mourn? - - - - -BARCAROLLE. - - -The stars are dimly seen among the shadows of the bay, -And lights that win are seen in strife with lights that die away: - -The wave is very still--the rudder loosens in our hand, -The zephyr will not fill our sail and waft us to the land; -O precious is the pause between the winds that come and go, -And sweet the silence of the shores between the ebb and flow. - -No sound but sound of rest is on the bosom of the deep, -Soft as the breathing of a breast serenely hushed with sleep: -Lay by the oar; there is a voice at heart to sing or sigh-- -O what shall be the choice of barcarolle or lullaby? - -Say shall we sing of day or night, fair land or mighty ocean, -Of any rapturous delight or any dear emotion, -Of any joy that is on Earth, or hope that is above-- -The holy country of our birth, or any song of love? - -Our heart in all our life is like the hand of one who steers -A bark upon an ocean rife with dangers and with fears; -The joys, the hopes, like waves or wings, bear up this life of ours-- -Short as a song of all these things that make up all its hours. - -Spread sail! for it is Hope to-day that like a wind new-risen -Doth waft us on a golden wing towards a new horizon, -That is the sun before our sight, the beacon for us burning, -That is the star in all our night of watching and of yearning. - -Love is this thing that we pursue to-day, to-night, for ever, -We care not whither, know not who shall be at length the giver: -For Love,--our life and all our years are cast upon the waves; -Our heart is as the hand that steers;--but who is He that saves? - -We ply with oars, we strive with every sail upon our mast-- -We never tire, never fail--and Love is seen at last: -A low and purple mirage like a coast where day is breaking-- -Sink sail!--for such a dream as Love is lost before the waking. - - - - -THE MINER. - -BALLAD. - - -Ho, I sing and I sing! -Digging jewels for the King;-- - Till I tire of the measure -I sing and I sing: -Here’s a diamond true bright; - Here’s a ruby worth a treasure: -So I labour, and my sight -Surely fails, and I get gray - Digging jewels for the King: -I have toiled so many a day, - I have found so many a treasure, -Yet,--ah’s me!--I dare to say -That I could not earn my way - To the palace of the King. - -I was a miner--doomed - With a fate branded at birth -To serve the King entombed - In this dungeon of the Earth: -They gave me a thing called _Hope_, - A word written in gold - On a talent--precious I’m told; -But, if I am to grope -All my life long in a mine, - What were the use at best -Of a bauble just to shine - And dangle at my breast? - -So I sing, so I sing -Here’s a jewel for the King!-- - Let me clear it of the rust; - Wrap the gold thing in gold dust: -’Tis a perfect bauble--see, - A truly precious thing, - Far fitter for a king -Than a prisoner like me. - - - - -A WASTED LAND. - - -Alas, for a sound is heard - Of a bitterly broken song; -Grievous is every word; - And the burden is weary and long -Like the waves between ebb and flow; -And it comes when the winds are low, - Or whenever the night is nigh, - And the world hath space for a sigh. - -It was in the time of fruit; -When the peach began to pout, - And the purple grape to shine, -And the leaves were a threadbare suit - For the blushing blood of the vine, -And the spoilers were about -And the viper glode at the root: - ---She came, and with her hand, - With her mouth, yea, and her eyes -She hath ravaged all the land; - Its beauty shall no more rise: -She hath drawn the wine to her lip. -For a mere wanton sip: - Lo, where the vine-branch lies; -Lo, where the drained grapes drip. - -Her feet left many a stain; - And her lips left many a sting; -She will never come again, - And the fruit of everything -Is a canker or a pain: -And a memory doth crouch - Like an asp,--yea, in each part -Where she hath left her touch,-- - Lying in wait for the heart. - - - - -CHARMED MOMENTS. - -_Chopin’s Nocturne, Op. 37, no. 1._ - - -The sky is a brilliant enamel; - The sea is a beautiful gem; -The hours are beautiful flowers - That pass, and we keep none of them; -They bear not the thing we would cherish, - Those beautiful fruitless flowers; -Each comes up to blossom and perish; - We wait, and another is ours: - -We wait till the heavens above us, - The flowering earth, or the seas -Shall bring us the soul meant to love us, - And hours much sweeter than these. - -How thrill we, when heavenly hushes - Come over the sea and the land!-- -Soft kissings of waves among rushes, - Footfalls of a bird on the sand, -Or least little stirs in the bushes - Take hold on the heart like a hand -Arresting--we know not for what-- - But little we care to withstand: - -How thrill we!--We think that some Spirit - Is speaking each moment like that;-- -O faint not, strained ear, till you hear it,-- - Heart, break not till you understand! - - - - -A LIFE-TOMB. - - -The house is haunted and rife - With Her touch behind panel and door -And her footfalls under the floor; - O the house is filled with gloom: ---Is She here dead in my life? - Am I here alive in her tomb?-- - -Ah fain am I still to track - And to walk along the ways -Sown with flowers by her feet; -And to gather, following back, - All the purple nights and days - She slew passing; or, half sweet, -To sit with dull eyes cast - On slowly dying embers - Of things the heart remembers -Right fair in the heart’s past, ---Till tones, that seem to start - From the shadows in the room, -Move round about the heart, - And a love-glow fills the gloom; - And her soul seems to look out -As from dim and distant eyes, - And a shade of lips to pout -With some remnant of her sighs. - -And often too, in the night, - The flame in famished eyes -Re-kindles an old delight -At some dream-sight of her; -The heart with tremulous stir - Lives a moment and then dies. - - - - -THE SLAVE OF APOLLO. - - -“How shall I rid myself from thee, -Apollo? Give me leave to be - No more than flower, or wind, or thought, - --Only a fragrant memory, nought, -Or anything that’s free: - -“Give me--O pitying--some power -To cease; make me a gentle shower; - A hidden fount that murmureth -In some sweet glimmer all apart - From sounds of living: give me death! -Or loose me for your love of me; -My bosom faileth and my heart -No more a prisoner will be ---Will be free! - -Shall I not cry to ye aloud -O clouds! My spirit was a cloud - Like one of you,--was free, I say, -To loiter o’er the tremulous lakes -Loving, to cling upon the wane -Of every fair thing that forsakes - The light and luxury of day; -To bear me over hill and plain - Upon the winds’ unfooted way: - -Ah, I was fearless then and pure; -And my sight touched all things obscure - Beneath dim masks of change or sleep: -And read the tender meanings writ - For full new heavens down in deep -Horizons, over which stood knit -The storms’ dark brows; I saw what cleaves - In the far corners of sun-smiles, - And I could send my breath for miles -Among the flowers and the leaves. - -O bosom of my mother Heaven, - Was not I purer than the dew? -Was not my spirit of the leaven - Of your own high eternal blue -Unspotted by one part of earth? - O, wherefore this dull flesh that wraps -My sense in shame,--O, why this birth -Among hard human sights and mirth! - Hear now, and draw me back to you. -Call to me through the silent gaps - In some great tempest cloud above, -Steal me when, gasping in the laps - Of these that sicken me of love, -I lie and think of my lost bliss: -O can you not in one long kiss - Absorb my spirit back to you? - -But thou, Apollo, who prevailest! - Hast thou made me thine envy? choosing, -Out of all creatures, me the frailest; - Me the most piteous, for the loosing -Of thy swift amorous looks like hounds - That hunt my soul--heavy and rife -With bodiless delights and sounds, - And knowledge of a goodlier life? - ---O, not until some fate shall darken - This soul with death, shall any scorn - Or hate of heaven make me mute: -Rather, through hot days, will I hearken - For quick breaths panting in pursuit, - And the swift feet of some sweet fawn -Crashing among the fallen fruit: -And him--making my whole blood blush-- - I will all languishing beseech,-- -Crush me, O God, as thou wouldst crush - Some fire-fed fruit, some fallen peach, -Some swollen skin of purple wine; - Care not to spare me,--nor refuse me; - Take me, to use me or abuse me, -And slay me taking me for thine!-- -So--till he seize me with a shout, - Tear me, and sear me with his breath; -Yea, till he tread my heart quite out, - And give me Death! - - And if not Death!-- -O all the night I shall be free -To steep me and to stifle me - In dew, and cool dew-dropping hair, - In every shadowy haunt and lair -Where most forgetfulness may be; -And, all on flame, my soul shall flare - Into the chillest of the dark, - And there be quenchéd, spark by spark. -To the last faintest spark of me. - -I will be wasted as a spoil - On all things of the woods and winds; -Earned with no eagerness or toil - I will be for the first who finds-- -A revel for mad zephyr lips, -A soft eternity of sips: -I will no sweet of mine detain; - But wholly be to them a prey, - Used lavishly or cast away -For the whole rout of them to drain. -Or I will give myself to make -Sport for the green gods of the lake; - --All fierce are they with foamy breath, - And rainbow eyes, and watery souls, -Quaint things, half deity, half snake; - --O, I shall lay me in the shoals - Of waves: or any way get Death!-- - -So I shall rid myself from thee, -Apollo!--So at length be free! - - - - -THE POET’S GRAVE. - - -In a lonely spot that was filled with leaves, - And the wild waste plants without scent or name, - Where never a mourner came,-- -That was far from the ground where the false world grieves, -And far from the shade of the church’s eaves-- -They buried the Poet with thoughts of shame, - And not as one who _believes_. - -Then the tall grass flower with lolling head, - Who is king of all flowers that twine or creep - On graves where few come to weep, -To the briar, and bindweed, and vetch, he said, -“Lo, here is a grave of the lonely dead; -Let us go up and haste while his soul may sleep, - To make the fresh earth our bed.” - -Then the rootless briar and bindweed mean, - And the grovelling vetch, with the pale trefoil - That cumbers the fruitless soil, -Yea, the whole strange rout of the earth’s unclean -Went up to the grave that was fresh and green; -And together they wrought there so dense a coil - The grave was no longer seen. - -But the tall mad flower whose head is crowned - With the long lax petals that fall and flap - Like the ears of a fool’s bell-cap, -He stood higher than all on the fameless mound; -And nodded his head to each passing sound, -Darting this way and that, as in sport to trap - Each laugh of the winds around. - -[Illustration] - - -JOHN CAMDEN HOTTEN, 74 & 75, PICCADILLY, LONDON. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EPIC OF WOMEN AND OTHER POEMS *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |