UNDER THE PALMS
75
Hating the earth, the sea, the witchery
Of all the universe : my breast I bared
And cursed God, hoping lightning; and
I dared
Not ask my love ‘‘In very truth—you |"
die !”
I could not bear it longer; then she
spake:
‘“‘T lied indeed, love, for mine honour’s
sake,”
And I reproached her for her love’s dis-
| trust, -
Saying ‘‘I would not so in any wise
Have lowered love unto the level of lust
But now—” I hid my thought in tears
and sighs.
THE TWENTY-FIFTH DAY.
‘‘T am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.”’
Richard Il,
ALIGE was desperately ill at morn.
Hour by sweet hour I watched her
sorrowing,
While the strong fever fought uncon-
quering
With native coolness of her life, o’er-
worm
Or poisoned ; thus I fought the long forlorn
Battle all day, until the evening
Brought back sweet health on sleep
and noiseless wing :
Strong love of the long battle was re-
born.
The child slept elsewhere that she might
sleep well.
Therefore, not fearing anything, I came ;
_ Lit my love’s candle at her body’s flame,
And fought not with the fevers now that
swell
Our burning lips and bosoms, until
shame
Nearly surrendered the sweet citadel.
THE TWENTY-SIXTH DAY.
‘*T think the devil will not have me damned
. . he would never else cross me thus.”
Merry Wives of Windsor.
Tus time she set her will against mywill ;
Swore that she would not come: in my
despair
I half believed her an enchantress fair
Cruel as hell and dowered with subtle
skill
To strain my life out with her love, and kill
My soul with misery : suddenly a rare
Swift smile set shimmering all the am-
bient air,
And then I knew she was my true love
still.
She would not come? Why, were Hell’s
portals fast
Shut, as to Orpheus on Eurydice,
Their brass would break before love’s
gold and steel,
The sharpness inlaid with sweet tracery
Of talismans of virtue: she is leal
To come and live and be my love at
last.
UNDER THE PALMS.
THE woodland hollows know us,
enchanted,
Likewise the spaces of the ghostly sea,
The lake’s abundant lilies, the pale slanted
Moonlight on flowers, the wind’s low
minstrelsy;
For all the tropic greenery is haunted
By youandme........
bird-
The tall palms bend and catch love’s tender
ditty
To learn a sweeter song to lure their
mate.
The soft wind sighs in amorous self-pity,
Having no love wherein to laugh elate,
And turns to the cold harbour and the city,
Wailing
its fate