Alice: An Adultery

THE SEVENTEENTH DAY “ Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant.” Tempest. Last night—but the boy shrieked in’s sleep—then, there I had ended all ! Having ingressed the track That leads from green or white-crowned hours to black, The pleasant portals of the scorpion snare, First gleaming toils of an enchantress’ hair That afterward shall change their fervours slack To strong gripe of a devil-fish : go back ? The hand is put forth to the plough—beware ! I took my shrine down : at the night we lay Four hours debating between fear and sin : Whether our love went deeper than the skin, Or lower than the lips : love won the day. We nestled like young turtles that be twin Close till the morn-star chased the moon away. 48