Collected Works (Vol. I)

116 MYSTERIES: LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC To other hells, thou damned of God here- after, "Mid men’s contempt and hate and pitiless laughter. IT. Lust, impotence, and knowledge of thy soul, And that foreknowledge, fill the fiery lake Of lava where thy lazar corpse shall break The burning surface to seek out a goal More horrible, unspeakable. ‘The scroll Opens, and ‘‘ coward, liar, monster ” shake Those other names of ‘‘goat and ‘‘swine”’ and ‘‘snake”’ Wherewith Hell’s worms caress thee and control. Nay, but alone, intolerably alone, Alone, as here, thy carrion soul shall swelter, Yearning in vain for sleep, or death, or shelter; No release possible, no respite known ! Self-damned, without a friend, thy eternal place Sweats through the painting of thy harlot’s face. At the hour of the eclipse, Wednesday, Dec. 28. BESIDE THE RIVER. RAIN, rain in May. The river sadly flows, A sullen silver crossed with sable bars, Damp, gleomy, shivering, while reluctant stars, Between swart masses of thick clouds that close, Drive with drooped plumes their wingéd cars Toward sleep, the scythe of woes. Woes, woes in Ere deepeneth The pink of roses to a purpler tint ; Ere ripening corn shafts back the sudden glint Spring. summer Of sunshine that brings healing with the breath Of western winds that sigh, they hint Of sleep, twin soul with death. Death, death ere dawn. dark ; Trees are grown terrible; the shadows wan Make shudder all the tense desires of man ; | No gleam of moonlight bears the golden mark Of sunny lips, nor shines upon Our sleep—Love’s birchen bark. The night is over Love, love to-night. To-night is all we know, Is all our care; lips joined to lips we lie, Tender hands touching, hearts in tune to die, With willing kiss reluctant to let go; So sweet love’s last enduring sigh For sleep, so sure, so slow. Sleep, sleep to-night. Our arms are inter- twined; Breath desires breath and hand imprisons hand ; Breezes cool faces, rosy with the brand Of long sweet kisses; sun shall dawn and find Two lovers who have passed the land Of sleep—-and found Death kind. MAN’S HOPE. Ere fades the last red glimmer of the sun ; Ere day is night, when on the glittering bar The waves are foaming rubies, and afar Streaks of red water, gold on the horizon, On summer ripples rhythmically run ; Ere dusk is weaned, there sails on silver car From the expectant East, the evening Star ; And all the threads of sorrow are unspun.