Alice: An Adultery

THE SEVENTH DAY “ This word ‘ love,’ which greybeards call divine, Be resident in men like one another And not in me : I am myself alone.” 3 Henry VI. Therefore I burnt the wicked pantacle, And cast my love behind me once again. I mused upon the mystery of pain, Where the Gods taught me by another spell Not chosen from the armoury of Hell, But given of Mercury to cleanse the stain Of the old planet : thus I wrote me plain Secrets divine—tremendous, terrible ! Thus I forgot my soul and dwelt alone In the strong fortress of the active mind Whose steady flame burned eager in the night ; Yet was some shadow on the starry throne, Some imperfection playing hoodman-blind So that I saw not perfectly aright. 29