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… maidenly Kiss, stooping from thy sky Of peace and power ! Thine only be the embrace !— I move not from my place, Feel the exultant face Mine for an hour ! Mine, and for ever mine ; Dim glory in the shrine Of Artemis Endymion-lured to wine, And dove-looks Erycine, Flower-scented bliss ! O sweet ! O saint ! I swoon Beneath the guiding moon ; In thine embrace, the tune Of that one kiss. 40
…ist to the sad and wild Crying of the lonely child Who asks a kiss. One kiss, like snow, to slip, Cool fragrance from thy lip To melt on mine ; One kiss, a white-sail ship To laugh and leap and dip Her brows divine ; One kiss, a starbeam faint With love of a sweet saint, Stolen like a sacrament In the night’s shrine ! 38
THE FIFTH DAY “ Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.” Richard III. All thought of work is almost cast aside. I followed like a dog the way she went, Speaking but seldom, very well content To day-dream, oft imagining a bride, A wife, a lover, even a sister, tied By some soft bond of twinning : thus I blent A real joy with a brighter element Of fancy free to wander far and wide. For as I followed by the shore and bended Over her footsteps in the wood, my will Rose to high strength assertive and transcended The petty forms of the seducer’s …
THE FORTY-NINTH DAY “ Let me twine Mine arms about that body.” Coriolanus. I stole her money, even then to prove She had no wings to fly with : but I knew What to her hateful duty there was due, And how the hateful system stank thereof : I let her go, both weeping, both enough Heart-broken : no farewell went ever through— Words came not : only ever : “ I love you ! ” With broken kisses and stained cheeks of love. So all day long and half the night we wandered Down deep lanes and in gardens, like lost souls. Strong kisses that had surfeited a sc…
…me : I did shun The onyx eyes that saw me not as one Possible even for a moment’s play. Thus I was tangled in some house of hell, Giving mine own soul’s beauty up to lust, Hoping to build some fort impregnable Against my love : instead the deep disgust Of my own beasthood crushed it into dust, And left my manhood twisted in her spell. 23
…y my tristful Queen, For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.” King Henry IV. Bitter reproaches passed between us twain, Hers real, mine with sneering logic sewn Proving my trespass hardly half her own, Its cause ; I proved her how she made me fain And left me mad, and led through joy and pain To that unthinkable thing : I might atone No whit in this way : then that stubborn stone My heart grew tears : we were good friends again. Therefore at night I added nothing new : Only a little while I lay with her And with mere kisses sucked her sou…
…s of misery had held her fast, And made her curse her own lock’s cruelty. So by her beauty and my love we swore, And by the light within mine eyes, by her Sweet shame : that never so we sunder again. But she : “ You swear ‘ by thy bright face ’ in vain ; ‘ By thy sweet self ’ you grow a perjurer ; Who have shamed my face and made me but an whore.” 73
…anguage in his tears.” K. Hen. VIII My comedy has changed its blithe aspect To bitterest face of tragedy ; she said : “ Alas ! O soul of mine ! I am surely dead, Seeing my life is by a serpent wrecked Of sore disease : but spare me, and reflect That in few months I die : but were I wed— O lover ! O desire discomfited ! I die at once : consider, and elect.” How could I otherwise than spare my wife ? With tender lips and fingers one strong kiss Swooned slave-wise even before the gate of bliss, No more : for I rose up and cursed my life, Hating th…
…rue love. Out from the flame of heart she plucks One flower of fiery light, and sucks Its essence up within her lips, And flings it into mine, and dips And bends her body, writhes and swims To link the velvet of our limbs, My drouthy passion worn and keen, And lusty life of Messaline. The heart’s blood in her boiling over She sucked from many a dying lover : The purple of her racing veins Leapt from some soul’s despairing pains ; She drinks up life as from a cup ; 10
…ack demoniac hymns As the frail cords of honour strain and slip. For in the midst of that tremendous tide The mighty vigour of a god was mine ! Drunk with desire, her lamentations died. The dove gave place a moment to the swine ! Rapturous draughts of madness ! Out she sighed Uttermost life’s love, and became a bride. Beneath the sonnet, in pencil, and feebler hand, are scrawled faintly the words : Alice ! Alice ! 68
…htning ; and I dared Not ask my love “ In very truth—you die ?” I could not bear it longer ; then she spake : “ I lied indeed, love, for mine honour’s sake,” And I reproached her for her love’s distrust, 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. 59