ASSUMPTA CANIDIA 
93 
 
No shadow in my mind to prove a sun ; 
No sorrow to declare that joy exists ; 
A cycle of dim spectres in the mists 
Moves just a little ; lastly there is One, 
One central Being, one elusive shape, 
Not to aspire to, not to love ; alas ! 
Only a memory in the agèd mass 
Of chained ones bound to me without escape ! 
Oh, doom of God !  Oh, brand how worse than Cain’s ! 
Divided being, undivided pains ! 
 
What is this life ?  (To call it life that grows 
No inch throughout all time.)  This bitterness 
Too weak and hateful to be called distress ? 
Slow memory working backward only knows 
There was some horror grown to it for kin ; 
Some final leprous growth that took my brain, 
Weaving a labyrinth of dullest pain 
From the sweet scarlet threat I thought was sin. 
I cannot sin !  Alas, one sin were sweet ! 
But sin is living—and we cannot meet ! 
 
So long ago, so miserably long ! 
I was a maiden—oh how rich and rare 
Seemed the soft sunshine woven in my hair ! 
How keen the music of my body’s song ! 
How white the blossom of my body’s light ! 
How red the lips, how languorous the eyes, 
How made for pleasure, for the sleepy sighs 
Softer than sleep ; amorous dew-dreams of night