Poems and Ballads

MY FRIEND

E D W A R D B U R N E J O N E S

THESE POEMS

A R E A FF E CT I ONAT E LY AN D A D M I RING LY

D E DI CATED

C O N T E N T S

PA G E

PREFAC E NOTES ON POEMS AND REVI E WS

LAU S VENERIS POEMS AND BALLADS .

A BA LL AD OF L IFE A BA L L AD OF DEATH L AUS V ENERIS

PHzE DRA THE TRIUMPH OF TIME L E S NOYADES A L EAV E -TA K ING I TYL US

ANA C TORIA HYMN TO PROSERPINE

I L IC E T HERMAPHRODITUS FRAGO L ETTA R ONDE L SATIA TE SANGUINE A L ITANY A L AMENTATION

IN THE O R C HARD A MAT C H vii C O N T E N T S P A G E FAUSTINE A C AME O S ONG BEFORE DEATH RO C O C O STAGE L O V E THE L EPER A BA L L AD OF BURDENS RONDE L BEFORE THE MIRROR

E RO TIO N I IN MEMORY OF WA L TE R SAVAGE L ANDOR A SONG I N TIME OF O RDER A S ONG IN TIME OF RE V O L UTION TO V I C TOR HUGO BEFORE DA\VN DO L ORES THE GARDEN OF PROS E RPINE HESPE RIA L O V E AT SEA APRI L BEFO RE PARTING T H E SUNDEW FEL ISE A N INTER L UDE HEN DE C ASY L L ABI C S SAPPHI C S A T E L EUSIS AUGUST A C HRISTMAS C ARO L

v iii C O N T E N T S P A G E

T HE M A S O U E O F B E R SA B E \ QUEEN

S T . DOROTHY THE TWO DREAMS AHO L IBAH L O V E AND S L EEP MADONNA M IA

’ T H E K ING S DAUGHTER AFTER DEATH M AY JANET T H E B L OODY S O N T HE S E A -S WA L L OWS T HE YEAR O F L OV E DEDI C ATION

APPENDI X

L V I . NOTE TO AUS ENE RIS

II . NOTE TO THE L EPE R

III . C L E OPATRA

B IB L IO G. RAPHY INDE X TO POEMS

PREFACE

P R E F A C E

H sto rm of whi h 1 8 6 6 A o T E abuse c in greeted lgern n Charles ’ Swinburne s ﬁrst series of Poems and Ball ads has l ong

h of who c o e since died away. T ose us re all the contr v rsy w - a P m a m d o hich raged, hilistinis th t ra pe and raved itself int

a — a b ut o On e Am c m an o f silence at l st, c nnot rej ice over eri an letters who emerged w ith ho nour from this uncritical melee .

‘ ’ ’ T m of R a G a W S e S o he na e ich rd r nt hite, hak speare s ch lar, w ill always rem ain associated with the sane an d just judgment p assed by him upon these poems ; a judgment still to be read w r th f a I ith g atitude after e lapse o three de c de s .

His wh o l e b o ok is an e xp ressi on of b eauty an d Of p assi o n in thi s e ar es l as n n ak e k d n o th ak e o f s o d o : d re e and stro n . a e o t f r e s f l f hi , f g N

nak e dn ess b ut f o r the sak e o f re e do m s tre n t and b eaut . In t s as in , f , g h y hi the dram at c m o t v e o f t e M S inb um e is ver k e the i i h se lyri cs r. w y li gre ates t dram atic po e t the wo rld has se en f o r two c e n turi e s — Ro b e rt

Bro wn n a ure o e r v t r m t c aracte r of alm ost i g . A f il t p cei e he purely d a a i c h all the ero ti c p o em s in thi s vo l um e must l e ad to a ve ry e rro n e o us an d

’ ’ ' un n m zm bm just judgm ent o f the p o e t . Th e y are no t w ri tt e rg ris ue Ye t h n the pu g . t e spi rit th at ani m at e s th e m is no t th at o f A re ti o ; pi ctures th at th e y p resent do n o t b ri ng up th ose t h at Giuli o Ro m ano drew . The m en an d w o m en who sp e ak th ro ught h em are such as Raph ae l p ain ted a t e he had touc e d the the Fo rnar na e t eve man av ert his r s Of . L r f h lip i y V ” e ye s who b eli ev es th at th e re is sin in p assi o n o r p o lluti o n in b e auty . ' ’ r n burn e s r ran t e a re v e r n te d in S e e M . Sw z Poem s b R c a d G t w y i h Whi , i p i b T c alax r l. 66 Vo . G f o D ec emb e r I 1 866 . y , ( I I , pp 5 xiii P R E F A C E

' Be o f all the o o w n e e e — if m a n iﬁ st is p et s d f nc , this g c e nt impe achm ent O f his de tracto rs c an b e rightl y call e d

e e e — the [Vofes o/z Poems a n d Rev iew s n o w at ve d f nc , last gi n its appro pri ate pl ace as an intro duc tio n to Poem s a nd

a llads An a e m to a e e the ro o f c B . y tt pt tr v rs g und su h high argum e nt in f avour o f the Divin e Rights o f Po e try w ould pro ve a futil e l ab our . Fo rtunate ly a narro we r an d less thank l e ss he ld of expo siti o n dem ands an d m ay p ro perly re ceive o ur bri e fer co mm e nt .

’ F to o ur c oi e o f e - a e Laus Ven erzs : Poems a n d irst as h c titl p g ,

ds It m a o r m a n o t e a the o m a B alla . y y be tru th t f r er tr ns “ atl antic publish e rs in 1 8 6 6 l o o k e d to e xc ite a l arger sale by distinctly show ing th at the chief o ff ending p o e m was n o t ” h a f exc lude d fro m t e p ge s o th e ir e diti on . Eve n if so the f ac t

n w I h has b ut w e o . t e w a La us little ight is agre d, ho ever, t t

Ve/zeris w as private ly printed in advance o f the co llected Poems a nd B allads and o me o e w e e o ut the , that s c pi s r sent to revi e wers fo r the expre ss purpo s e o f feeling the critical puls e ;

m a a a in o e e e a it ight f irly ppe r, c ns qu nc , that such title held prio r clai m as against the l e ss signiﬁ c ant o n e cho s e n by its

A e the e in Am e a e a e us autho r . t l ast this is titl ric (r t in d by w the e o o f tw o wo o w e e the o was ith xcisi n rds nly) , h r by b ok

w o e to e o w ﬁ rst kn o w n and ill c ntinu b kn n .

The tw o n o tes purpo rting to b e quo tatio ns fro m Old Fre n c h

’ o c e in re a S w e o w n o m o o w c o ut s ur s ( lity inburn s c p siti n) , hi h

’ the La us Venem s an d T/ze Le er ha e e e e a lin e p , v b n sp ci lly

h e r The e leo t w transl ate d fo r t e pr se nt re p int . in dite d C p a ra e xiv P R E F A C E

e e e w e w o r e e a o o e e w the w o o c b b li v ll th pr s rv ti n, t g th r ith d ut y

F e e r c S a w c le d to in c e ti n I r d i k ndys hi h its p o .

’ Ro sse tti s w ater- co l our draw ing 2 is here repro duced as a fro ntispie c e for the ﬁrst tim e an d m ay b e co nsidere d as v ery

e a o m o a av e e in 1 8 6 1 n rly c nte p r ry, h ing been x cuted .

F o ur o ra ca a a ar aw r m M T e o . om a inally, bibli g phi l d t dr n f r h s

’ e a a e List e in h u it r J. Wis s inv lu bl print d t e s e co nd vo l m e o f L e a ry A n ecdotes of tﬁe jVin eteen l/i Cen tury an d fro m the

’ am e o ce tw o f ac- m of he o M S r t . a a o a e s s ur si iles p et s e ls t k n . Our Obligati o ns ackn ow l e dge d it o nly re mains to expre ss the ho pe that w h at the admi rers of the geni us o f Algerno n Charl e s

S w n a e so o e e e e e e in a inbur e h v l ng d sir d, is at l ngth pr s nt d m anne r b e ﬁtting the subj e ct and in a f orm at th at w ill n o t

a th m e a - dis ppo int e o st x c ting b o o k l over .

I is o e m o r nal rinte d in the Corn /i ill M a azin e f o r Se t em b e r Th p igi ly p g p ,

1 866 w as w r tte n to acco m an an l ustrat o n w ic w e av e re ro du c e d , i p y i l i ( h h h p u s ze drawn n m t ed am e t u o w o o d b Fre de r ck an d s . v er f ll i ) , p y i S y A y li i p phl

e d tio n w as a s s d. cc o r n Mr s a c o had rec e n t o su e d to . e i l i A i g Wi , py ly ’ ( 1 896 ) b e e n o ff e re d f o r sal e at the ph en o m en al pri c e of Fyteen Gn in eas l M s u rt t r. Wi e f h e r state s th at The p o e m has b e en e n ti re ly dro pp e d b y i s au t o r an d is n o t n c u ded in an o f his co e c te d v o um e s n e t e r is t ere h , i l y ll l , i h h an re as o n to y an ti cipate th at it e v e r will b e .

Am o n g the p ro du c ti o n s of Ro sse tti in th e se two y e ars ( 1 860— 6 1 ) “ w as a w ate r-co o u he m o st vi o ro u s r e ad o f Mr. Swin b u rn e su o se t l h , I pp g ” a n d ﬁn i sh e d re co rd Of his y o uth whi c h p o ste ri ty will h av e to ch e ri sh .

D a n te Ga briel Rossetti : H is Fa m il -l etters w it/i a {Mem oir b William y , y

' ll zena el ossetti 1 j R . Vo l. . 2 1 8 . ( 95 ) I , p 4

N O TE S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I EWS

T is by no wish o f my own th at I accept the task now f f proposed to me . To vindicate or de end mysel f C o f fo r rom th e assault or the h arge men whom , but

o f o fiic e their attacks , I might never have he ard , i s a n which I , or any writer who respects his work , cannot without rel uctance stoop to undertake . As long as the

— I fe w attacks on my book have seen a , I am told there are many — were conﬁned within the usual limits o f the anonymous press , I let them pass without the notice to whi ch they appeared to aspire . Sincere or insincere ,

f sa insolent or respect ul , I let my assailants y out their say unheeded . I have now undertaken to write a fe w words on this

’ aﬁ air w a o f o r o f , not by y apology vindication , answer or appeal . I h ave none such to o ff e r. Much o f the

o f criticism I h ave seen is as usu al , i n the words

’ Shak s e are s f p gre atest ollower ,

As if a m an sh ou ld spit agai nst the wind ; ’ ” The lt re turn s in s a ﬁ h f ce .

of f I n recognition his air dealing with me i n this m atter , I am bound by my own sense o f right to accede to the N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

o f o f wish my present publisher , and to th e wishes f if riends wh ose advice I value , th at on hi s accou nt ,

C not on mine , I should make some reply to the h arges

— brought against m e as far as I understand th em .

f f O f O f o f The work is not ruit ul ple asure , honour , or

b ut proﬁt ; , like other such tasks , it m ay be none th e

less use ful and necessary . I am aware th at it cannot be accomplished without some Show o f egotism ; and I am perforce prepared to incur the consequent C h arge f f . f f n LO arrogance The o ﬁ ce o commentator o my o w works h as been forced upon me by circumstances Co n

- n e cte d with the issue and re issue o f my l ast book . I

am compelled to look sharply into it , and inquire what

passage , what allusion , or wh at phrase can have drawn down su ch sudden thunder from th e serene h eavens

o f public virtue . A m ere libeller I h ave no wish to encounter ; I leave it to saints to ﬁght with beasts at f Ephesus or n earer For i n th ese stri es , and on such

’ aﬁ e c t persons , it were as wretch ed to a victory , as it

i s unh appy to be committe d with them .

O f Certain poems mine , it appears , h ave been

n i mpugned by judges , with or without a ame , as

i ndecent or as blasphemous . To me , as I h ave inti

’ a o f in diﬁ e re n c e m ated , their verdi ct is m atter inﬁnite it is o f equ ally small moment to m e wheth er i n such

X X N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

eyes as theirs I appear moral or immoral , Christi an or pagan . But , remembering that science must not scorn V f to investigate animal cules and in usori a , I am ready f r o once to play th e anatomist . With regard to any Opinion implied or expressed th rough out my book , I desire th at on e thing shoul d 7 : -f be remembered the book is dram atic , m any aced ,

f O f multi arious ; and no utterance enjoyment or despair , f f belie or unbelie , can properly be assumed as th e

’ assertion o f its author s personal feeling or faith . Were) e ach poem to be accepted as th e deliberate outcome

’ o f and result th e writer s conviction , not mine alone

’ b ut most other men s verses woul d leave nothing behin d them but a sense o f Cloudy chaos and sui cidal contra diction . Byron an d S helley , speaking in their ow n ff persons , and with wh at sublime e ect we know , openly and insultingly mocked and reviled what th e English . o f their day hel d most sacred . I have not done this .

s a if I C I do not y that , hose , I would not do so to the best Of my power ; I do s ay th at hitherto I h ave seen

ﬁt to do nothing o f the kind . I t rem ains then to inquire what in that book can be reason ably Off ensive to th e English re ader . In order

ﬁ sh of to resolve this problem , I will not up any the if ephemeral scurrilities born only to sting they can ,

xxi N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

and sink as th ey must . I will take the one article that

f O f lies be ore m e ; th e work ( I admit) an enemy , but th e work ( I acknowledge ) o f a gentleman . I cannot accept it as accurate ; but I readily and gl adly allow that it neither contains nor suggests anything f al se or

. f ﬁlthy To hi m there ore , rather than to anoth er , I address my reclamation . Two among my poems , it “ ” appears , are in his Opinion especially horrible . “ Good . Though the ph rase be s o mewh at in e xpre s

. is sive , I am content to meet him on this ground It

— — something n ay , it is much to ﬁnd an antagonist w ho h as a sufﬁcient sense o f honesty and honour to m ark out the lists in which he , the ch allenger , is desirous to encounter the challenged .

Of The ﬁrst , it appears , these especially horrible

A n a eto ria . f poems is I am in ormed , and h ave not f cared to veri y the assertion , th at this poem has

O f excited , among th e ch aste and candid criti cs the day or hour or minute , a more veh ement reprobation , a more vi rtuous horror , a more passionate appeal , th an any other O f my writing . Proud and glad as I must

o f be this distinction , I must yet , however reluctantly , inquire wh at merit or demerit has incurred such u n e x pe cte d honour . I was not ambitious o f it ; I am not

i f ash amed o it ; but I am overcome by it . I h ave XXII N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S n ever lusted after the praise o f reviewers ; I have never feared their abuse ; but I woul d fain know why the vultures should gather here o f all places ; wh at congenial carrion they smell , who can discern

- such ( it is alleged) in any rose bed . And after a i

re ﬂ e ctio n I . littl e do know , or conjecture Virtue , as she appears i ncarn ate i n British journalism and

is voluble through that unsavoury organ , something o f a compound creature

A um n e t er a ve n o r dead l p i h li ,

D o - eaded b o so m -e e d and b rd- o o te d g h , y , i f ; nor h ave any dragon ’s j aws been known to emit on occasion stronger and stranger sounds and odours .

i w ithout s But h aving , not astoni h ment and disgust , f inh aled these odours , I ﬁnd mysel at l ast able to an alyse their component parts . What my poem means , if S any reader houl d want that expl ained , I am ready to expl ain , though perplexed by the hint th at explana tion m ay be required . What certain reviewers h ave? imagined it to imply , I am incompetent to explain , and u nwilling to imagine . I am evidently not virtuous enough to understan d them . I th ank heaven that I am

a o u tion ro u i a it o de ur . not . M c rr p g r do [ ur pu I have not studied in those schools whence that full-ﬂedge d xxiii N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S ‘

“ o o f f ph enix , the virtue pro ession al pressmen , rises f chuckling and crowing rom the dunghill , its birthplace

. o f f Land its deathbed But there are birds alien e ather , if not o f higher ﬂight ; an d these I would now recall

o f into no hencoop or preserve mine , but i nto the Open and general ﬁeld where all may ﬁnd pasture an d sun shine an d fresh air : into pl aces whither the prurient prudery and th e virulent virtue o f pressmen and prosti

tute s cannot follow ; i nto an atmosphere where calumny f cannot speak , and atuity cannot breathe ; i n a word ,

where b ackbiters and i mbeciles become i mpossible . I

hO e neith er p nor wish to ch ange the un ch angeable , to

f . e puri y the impure To concili ate the m , to vindicat f mysel i n their eyes , i s a task which I shoul d not

con descend to attempt , even were I sure to accomplish .

I n this poem I h ave simply expressed , or tried to

o f ff express , th at violence a ection betwee n one and anoth er whi ch h arden s into rage and deepens i nto

- despair . The key note which I h ave here touch ed w as

struck long since by S appho . We i n Engl and are

taught , are compelled under penalties to learn , to

construe , a nd to repe at , as schoolboys , the imperish able and incom parable verses o f that suprem e poet ;

f f r and I at l east am grate ul o th e training . I h ave

wished , and I have even ventured to hope , that I might

N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W' S

no companion and no rival but the Ode to Aphrodite , “ ” h as been twice at least transl ated or traduced . I am not aware th at Mr . Ambrose Phillips , or M . Nicol as

-De s ré aux f Boileau p , was ever impe ached be ore any jury o f moralists fo r his su fﬁ ciently grievou s o ff ence . By any jury o f poets both would assuredly h ave bee n

. . TO convicted Now , wh at th ey did I h ave not done

o f the best ( and bad i s the best) their ability , they have “ done into bad French and b ad English th e very words o f S appho . Feeling th at although I migh t do it better I coul d not do it well , I abandoned th e i de a

— ' “ O f ge m déxo vr l e s u . transl ation y mp I tried , then , to write some paraphrase o f the fragment which th e Fates an d the Christians h ave spared us . I h ave not said , as

Boileau and Phillips h ave , that the spe aker swe ats and swoons at sight o f her favourite by th e si de o f a m an .

f fo r I h ave abstaine d rom touching on such details , this reason : th at I felt mysel f i ncompetent to give adequ ate expression i n English to the literal and absolute words o f S appho ; and would not debase and degrade them i nto a viler form . No one can feel more deeply than “ I do the in adequ acy o f my work . Th at is not ” f S appho , a riend sai d once to me . I could only “ reply , I t i s as near as I can come ; an d no m an can come close to h er ” Her rem ai ning verses are N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R EV I E W S

o f the supreme success , the ﬁnal achievement , the poetic art .

But this , it m ay be , i s not to the point . I will try to draw thither ; though th e des cent is immeasurable from

’ ’ S appho s verse to mine , or to any m an s . I h ave

o f striven to cast my Spirit into the moul d hers , to express an d represent not the poem but the poet . I did n ot think it requisite to disﬁgure the page with a foot-note wherever I h ad fallen back upon the origin al text . Here and there , I need not say , I h ave rendered into English th e very words o f S appho . I have tried also to work i nto words o f my own some expression o f ff : their e ect to be ar witness how , more th an any

’ other s , her verses strike and sting the memory i n f lonely places , or at sea , among all lo tier sights and

— sounds how they seem akin to ﬁre and air , being “ ’3 themselves all air and ﬁre ; other element there is none i n them . As to the angry appeal against th e

o f supreme mystery oppressive heaven , which I have ventured to put into her mouth at th at point only where ff pleasure culminates i n p ain , a ection in anger , and

” desire in despair — as to the “ bl asphemies ! against

“ ” A s s a n o t re turn to t s c ar e of b as em w ere c te a I h ll hi h g l ph y , I ill h i n otab l e i nstan ce of w h at do es s e em p e rmissib l e in t h at lin e to the En gli s h h t o ris reader. ne e d no t sa t at do no t uest on t e r w c c ( I y h I q i igh , hi h hyp y

XXVII N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S ‘

God or Gods o f which h ere and elsewhere I stand

— O accused , they are to be taken as the ﬁrst utcome / o f f f v or outburst oiled and ruitless passion recoiling on f f . itsel A ter this , the spirit ﬁnds ti me to breathe and

o f repose above all vexed senses the weary body , all

’ bitter l abours O f the revolted soul ; th e poet s pride o f

f o f pl ace is r esumed , the lo ty conscie nce invincible

immortality i n the memories and the mouth s O f men . What is th ere now o f horrible in this ? the expre s

O f f o f sions ﬁerce ondness , the ardours passionate ? ‘ despair Are these SO u nn atural as to aﬁ right or disgust ? Where is there an unclean detail ? where an ( Obscen e allusion ? A writer as impure as my critics

o f might course h ave written , on this or on any subj ect ,

an i mpure poem ; I have not . And if to translate or ff paraphrase S appho be an O ence , indict th e heavier

and s e rv t w o u d de n Of aut o r an d ub s e r to e re ss and ro uc e ili y l y , h p li h xp p d

w at t e e as e . do n o t de re c ate b ut de m an d f o r all m e n re e do m to h h y pl I p , f he n e O f m ar s e ak and re e do m to e ar. It is t de cat o n w c adm ts p f h li i hi h i , if O e nc e t e re b e the re ate r O e n de r an d re e c ts the e ss — it is t s t at ff h , g ff j l hi h I

do n o t u n de rs tan d. te r m an a te rn ate cu rse s an d de n a s o f Go d a ) Af y l i l , “ ” “ re at o e t ta ks o f C r s t v e n his o rr b e G o d e ad Of his m a n ant g p l h i ili g h i l h , lig ” “ ” s o u his G o dl k e m a c e . e e o ut ved all t s and m uc m o re b u t l , i li Sh ll y li hi h ;

Sh e ll e y w ro te all thi s an d m uc h m o re . Will no S o ci e ty f o r the Su pp ressi o n o f C o m m o n S e nse — n o C o m m i tte e f o r the Pro p agati o n o f C ant — s e e to ? it a li ttl e o r h ave th e y n o t al re ady tri e d th e i r h an ds at it and b ro k e n do wn ? Fo r the po e m w hi ch co n tai ns the wo rds ab o ve quo te d co n ti nu e s

at t s da to b rin c re d t an d ro t to its ub s e r — M Mo hi y g i p ﬁ p li h s es srs . x o n

an d C O .

xxv hi N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

Offenders who h ave h andled an d reh andled this m atter

o f O de . o e m i n their wretched versions the Is my p J ? more passionate in detail , more u nmistakable in subject

I afﬁ rm th at it is less and wh at I afﬁ r m I have proved .

' Next on th e list o f accusation stan ds the po e m ﬁ

D o lores . The gist and bearing O f this I should h ave

V o f thought evident enough , iewed by th e light others which precede and follow it . I have striven here to express th at transient state o f spirit through which a f m an may be supposed to pass , oiled in love and weary o f o f f loving , but not yet i n sight rest ; seeki ng re uge

” ” i n those violent delights which have violent ends , i n ﬁerce and frank sensu alities whi ch at least profess to be no more th an they are . This poem , like

F a ustin e so f f , is distin ctly symboli c and anci ul that it cannot justly be amenable to judgment as a study \/

f . i n the school o realism The spirit , bowed and discoloured by suffering an d by passion ( which are

fo r indeed th e same thing and the sam e word) , pl ays

its an its awhile with pleasures d pains , mixes and distorts them with a sense h al f- hu morous and h al f f f mourn ul , exults in bitter and doubt ul emotions

” Mo o ds o f antast c s adn e ss n o thn w o rt . f i , i g h

f It sports with sorrow , and j ests against itsel ; cries out xxix N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S ‘

fo r freedom and confesses the chain ; decorates with the

O f C o t tto n ame goddess , crown s anew as the mystical y ,

o f if some woman , real or ideal , i n whom th e pride l e h ’ with its companion lusts is i ncarnate . I n e r lover s

f- is tran sﬁ h al shut eyes , her ﬁerce u nch aste beauty g

ure d , h er cruel sensual eyes h ave a meaning an d a m essage ; th ere are memories an d secrets in th e kisses f o f . is e d her lips S he th e d arker Venus , with burnt

’ Off ering and blood - sac riﬁ c e ; th e veiled image o f th at pleasure which m en i mpelled by satiety an d perverted by power h ave sough t through ways as strange as

’ Nero s before and si nce his ti me ; th e daughter o f lust

o f and death , and holding both her parents ; Our Lady

o f o f : Pain , antagonist alike trivial sins and Virtues no

o f o f Virgin , and unblessed men ; no mother the Gods

or God ; no Cybel e , served by sexless priests or m onks , adored o f Origen or o f Atys ; no likeness o f her i n

‘Dindymus or Loreto . The next act i n this lyrical monodrame O f passion f represents a new stage and scene . The worship O desire has ceased ; the mad commotion o f sense h as

f o f Old stormed itsel out ; the spirit , clear th e regret th at

fo r o f drove it upon such violent ways a respite , healed the fever th at w asted it i n the search fo r relief among f ﬁerce an cies and tempestuous pleasures , dreams n ow

X X X N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

O f truth discovered and repose attained . Not the m ar

’ Of tyr s ardour selfless love , an unprofitable flame th at burnt out and did no servi ce — not th e rapid rage o f

fo r pleasure that seemed a little to make the ﬂesh divine , to clothe th e naked senses with the fiery raiment o f

f . aith but a stingless love , an innocuous desire Hes

” O f o f peri a , the tenderest type wom an or dream , born “ o f in the westward isl ands the bl est , where the shadows o f all happy and holy thi ngs live beyond the

f U su nset a sacred and a sl eepless li e , dawns pon his

o f eyes a western dawn , risen as the ﬁery day passion goes down , and risen where it sank . Here , between m oonrise and sunset , lives th e love that is gentl e and f f tOO — a aith ul , neither giving much nor asking bride rather than a mistress , a sister rather than a bride .

fo r But not at once , or not ever , can the past be killed and buried ; hither also th e huntress follows her ﬂying f f f prey , wounded and weakened , still resh rom the angs o f passion ; th e cruel h ands , the amorous eyes , still glitter and allure Qgi i a b u b o ira : the feet are drawn f back towards th e ancient ways . Only by li elong

ﬂight , side by si de with the goddess that redeems , sh all her sl ave o f ol d escape from the goddess that consu mes if even thus one m ay be saved , even thus distance the bloodhounds . N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S r This is the myth or fable o f my poem ; and it is not

without design that I h ave slipped i n , between the ﬁrst

T/i e Ga rden and second part , the verses called of

Pros e r in e as o f p , expressive , I me ant they shoul d be ,

f o f o f that brie total pause passion and thought , whe n

f o f th e spirit , without ear or hope good things or evil ,

hu n e rs f f . L g and thirsts only a ter the per ect sleep Now , what there is in all this unﬁt to be written — wh at there

i s here indecent i n m anner or repulsive in matter — I at f least do not yet see ; and be ore I can see it , my eyes must be pu rged with the euphrasy and rue which keep f clear the purer eyes o f pro essional Virtue . The insight

o f into evil chaste and criti cal pressmen , their sh arp

fo r scent possible or impossible impurities , their delicate ear fo r a sound or a whisper o f wrong — all this knowl “ edge i s too wonderful an d excellent fo r me ; I cannot

” attain unto it . I n one thing , indeed , it seems I h ave erred : I h ave forgotten to preﬁx to my work the timely warning o f a great poet and humourist

’ e n ré v e n s le s m ere s de s am es J p i f ill , ’ ’ C e que jé c ris n e s t pas p o u r le s p e ti te s ﬁlle s D o n t o n co upe le p ai n e n tarti n es ; m e s v e rs ” t rs So n des ve de jeun e h o mm e .

I h ave overlooked th e evidence which every d ay m akes

fo r clearer , th at our time h as room only such as are XXXII

N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

construe ari ght those somewhat misty and ch angeable

terms . These poems thus disposed o f are ( I am told ) those which h ave given most Offence and scandal to the venal

f A s virtue o journalism . I have not to review my f reviewers , I need not be at pains to re ute at length every wil ful error or u nconscious lie which a workm an

. as that way inclined might drag into light To me , to

e all others who may read wh at I writ , the whole m atter must co n tinue to seem too piti able and trivial to waste a

word or thought on it which we can h elp wasting . But

tw o O f h aving begun this task , I will add yet a word or

annotation . I h ave heard th at even th e little poem o f F a n slin e h as been to some readers a thing to m ake th e f scalp creep and the blood reeze . It was issued with no

’ such intent . Nor do I remember th at any man s voice

w as f or h eel li ted against it when it ﬁrst appeared , a

- S e cta to r n new born and virgin poem , i n the p ewspaper

fo r 1 86 2 . Virtue , it would seem , h as sh ot up surpris ing ly in th e space o f four years or less — a rank an d

O f . rapid growth , barren blossom and rotten at root rF a nstin e is the reverie O f a m an gazing on the bitter and vicious loveliness o f a face as com mon and as che ap

o f f as the morality reviewers , and dreaming O past lives in which this fair face may h ave held a nobler or ﬁtter

xxxiv N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

’ station ; the imperial proﬁle m ay h ave been Faustina s ,

’ ae she the thirsty lips a M nad s , when ﬁrst learnt to drink

lOv e s O f blood or wine , to waste th e and ruin the lives men ; through Greece and again through Rome she m ay h ave passed with the same face whi ch now comes be fore us dishonoured and discrowned . Whatever o f merit or demerit there m ay b e i n the verses , th e idea that gives them such li fe as th ey have is simple enoug h

o f the transmigration a singl e soul , doomed as though f by accident rom th e ﬁrst to all evil and no good , through f m any ages and orms , but clad always i n the same type o f ﬂ e shly beauty . The chance which suggested to me this poem was one which m ay h appen any day to any m an — the sudden sight of a livi ng face which recalled the well -known likeness Of another dead fo r centuries

f o f in this instance , the noble and aultless type the elder

. o f Faustin a , as seen in coin and bust Out th at casual glimpse and sudden recollection these verses sprang and grew . A O f the poem in which I have attempted once more to

Of i sa embody the legen d Ve nus and her kn ght , I need y only th at my ﬁrst ai m w as to reh andle the Old story in a new fashion . To me it seemed that the tragedy

’ began with the knight s return to Venus — began at the point where hitherto it had seemed to leave Off . The XXXV N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S i mmortal agony o f a m an lost a fter all repentance cast down from fearful hope i nto fearless despair believing i n Christ and bound to Venus — desirous o f

— penitenti al pain , and damned to joyless pleasure this ,

w as O f i n my eyes , the kernel and nucleus a myth comparable only to th at o f the foolish virgins and bear f ing the same burden . The tragic touch o th e story i s this that the knight w ho h as renounced Christ believes i n hi m ; th e lover who h as embraced Venus disbelieves i n her . Vainly and in despair woul d he m ake the be st o f th at which is the worst — vainly remonstrate with

f . God , and argue on the side he woul d ai n desert O nce

o f accept or admit the l east admixture pagan worship ,

o f or modern thought , and the whole story collapses i nto froth and smoke . I t w as not till my poem was completed that I received from th e h ands o f its author the admirable pamphlet o f Charles B audelaire on Wag

’

Ta n n lza iise r . If ner s any one desires to see , expresse d

o f i n better words than I can comm and , the conception the medi aeval Ve nus whi ch it w as my aim to put into verse , let hi m turn to the m agniﬁcent passage i n which

. f M Baudel ai re describes the allen goddess , grown diaboli c among ages that would not accept her as divine . f I n another point , as I th en ound , I concur with th e great musician and his great panegyrist . I h ave m ade xxxvi N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E WS

’ o n e o f f Venus the love her knight s whole li e , as Mary

’ o f Chastelard s S tuart ; I have sent him , poet and sol - 1 f . dier , resh to her ﬁerce embrace Thus only both l egend and symbol appear to me noble and signiﬁcant . Light loves and h armless errors must not touch the

o f o f . o f elect heaven or hell The queen evil , the lady o f lust , will endure no rival but God ; and when th e

o f vicar God rejects him , to her only can he return to abide the day o f his judgment i n weariness and sorrow an d fe ar .

These poems do not seem to me condemnable , unless it be on the ground o f bad verse ; and to any ch arge o f that ki nd I should o f course be as un able as reluctant to reply . But I certainly was even less prepared to hear the batteries o f Virtue Open ﬁre i n another quarter .

S culpture I knew was a dead art ; buried centuries deep

o f out sight , with no angel keeping watch over the sep ulchre ; its very grave -clothes divided by wran gling and impotent sectaries , and no chance anywhere visible

f as O a resurrection . I knew that belie f in the body w I

o f o f the secret sculpture , and th at a past age ascetics could no more attempt or attai n it than the present age o f hypocrites ; I knew th at modern moralities and.) if recent religions were , possible , more averse and alien to this purely physical and pagan art th an to the others ;

xxxv ﬁ N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

but how far averse I did not know . There is nothing f lovelier , as there is nothi ng more amous , i n l ater

o f . NO Helleni c art , than the statue Hermaphroditus one woul d compare it with th e greatest works o f Greek f sculpture . No on e would li t Ke ats on a level with

S hak s pe are . But the Fates have allowed us to possess

He rm a h at once Othello an d Hyperion , Theseus and p

ro ditus . At Paris , at Florence , at Naples , the delicate divinity o f this work h as always drawn towards it th e ” eyes o f artists and poets . A cre ature at once foul and

f s o f dull enough to extract rom a sight lovely , rom a

S O f of thing noble , the ai ntest , the most ﬂeeting idea

’ Wi tn ess Sh e ll e y s ve rsi o n

s e e ss t n it w as an d in its ro wt A xl hi g , g h It s e e m e d to h av e de v e l o p e d n o de fe c t Of e t e r s e x e t all the rac e o f b o t i h , y g h ; In g e n tl en e ss an d s tre n g th its lim b s w e re de ck e d

The b o so m t sw e e d w t its u o ut ligh ly ll i h f ll y h , The co un te nanc e w as such as m igh t s e l e c t

So m e art st t at his ski s o u d n e v er die i , h ll h l , ” m a I gin g fo rth suc h p e rfe ct puri ty .

Wile/z o Atla s st . v f , xxx i .

But S e e had no t s tudie d u r t in the c o o O f re v e e rs It is e h ll y p i y s h l i w . w ll f o r us t at w e av e t e ac e rs ab e to e n te n o ur dark ne ss o r e ave n h h h l ligh , H k n o w into w at e rro r su c as he s o r suc as I m t no t a . We m t h h , h , igh f ll igh e v e n in t m e co m e to t ink it o s s b e to en o the n ak e d b e aut of a , i , h p i l j y y statu e o r a picture wi th o u t any vi rtuo us v isi o n b e hind it of a ﬁl thy fancy ; whi ch w o ul d b e i m m o ral . xxxviii N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

impurity , must be , and must remain , below compre he n sio n and below rem ark . It is incredible that the meanest Of men should derive from it any other than the sense o f high and grateful pleasure . O dour and colour and music are not more tender or more pure . HOWE favourite and frequent a Vision among the Greeks w as

o f Of o f f this the union sexes i n one body per ect beauty , none need be told . In Plato the legen d has fallen into

f o f a orm coarse , h ard , and absurd . The th eory God splitting i n two th e double archetype o f man and woman , the origin al herm aphrodite which had to get f f itsel bisecte d into em ale and m ale , i s repul sive and

ridic ulOiI s . enough But the idea thu s i ncarnate , literal h f . w o or symbolic , i s merely beauti ul I am not the ﬁrst __j h as translated i nto written verse this sculpture d poem

f as another be ore me , he says , h as more th an once “ ’ . is caressed it with a sculptor s love It , indeed , among statues as a lyric among tragedies ; it sta n ds

ZEsch lus below the Niobe as S imonides below y , as

Correggio beneath Titi an . The sad and subtle m o raﬂ

O f this myth , which I have desired to indicate i n verse , i s th at perfection once attained on all sides i s a th ing thenceforward barren o f use or fruit ; whereas th e) divided beauty o f separate woman and m an — a thing

— in ferior and i mperfect can serve all turns o f li fe . xxxi x N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

as I deal be auty , like ideal genius , dwells apart , though

by compul sion ; supremacy i s solitude . But l eavin g

O f se e w h this symbolic Side th e m atter , I cannot y this

statue shoul d not be the text fo r yet another poem . Treated in the grave and ch aste manner as a serious

’3 o f fo r thing beauty , to be ever appl auded and ff e njoyed , it can give no O ence but to the purbli nd and f the prurient . For neither o these cl asses h ave I ever

written or will I ever write . Loathsome and abomina ble and full O f u nspeakable foulnesses must be th at r ’ m an s mind who could here discern evil ; unclean and i nhu man the anim al whi ch coul d suck from this mystical rose o f ancient loveli ness the foul and ranci d juices o f

’

n f . ﬂi La Obscene ancy I t were a scavenger s o ce to descen d with torch or spade i nto such depths Of mental

sewerage , to plunge or peer into subterranean sloughs

o f mind impossibl e alike to enlighte n or to Cl eanse .

I h ave now gone over the poems wh ich , as I hear ,

h ave incurred most bl ame ; whether deservedly or not ,

I have shown . For the term s i n which certain critics h ave clothed their senti ments I bear the m no ill -will

fo r they are welcome me to write unmolested , as long

as they keep to simple ribaldry . I hope it gives them amusement ; I presume it brings them proﬁt ; I know it

ff . f if does not a ect me Absolute alsehood m ay , it be xl

N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

th at cannot be li sped in the nursery or ﬁngered i n the school room i s th ere fore to be cast out o f th e library ; whether o r not th e domesti c circle is to be fo r all men and writers the outer limit and extreme h orizon o f thei r

world o f work . For to thi s we h ave come ; and all

stu dents o f art must face the m atter as it stands . Who

has not heard it asked , i n a ﬁ nal and triumph ant tone , whether this book or th at can be read alou d by her mother to a young girl ? whether such and such a

i picture can properly be exposed to the eyes Of youn g

? If is persons you reply that this nothing to the point ,

you fall at on ce into the ranks o f the i mmoral . Never

till now , and nowh ere but in Engl and , could so mon f y strou s an absurdity rear o r one moment its deformed

and eyeless head . I n no past centu ry were artists ever

hidde n to work on th ese terms nor are they now , except

u s . o f afﬁ ic ts a mong Th e disease , course , the meanest f m embers o th e body with most virulence . Nowhere is cant at once so foul -mouthed and so tight-l aced as i n

th e penny , twopenny , threepenny , or sixpenny press . Nothing is so favourabl e to the undergrowth O f re al

f O f indecency as this overshadowing oliage ﬁctions , thi s

’ o f . L Arioste rit a n soleil artiﬁcial network proprieties ,

‘ ’ ’ é in r a n a y l A r t ic e l o m ore . Th e wh iter the sepulchre

without , the ranker the rottenness within . Every touch xlii N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

o f plaster is a sign o f advancing decay . The virtue o f our critical journals is a dowager o f somewhat dubiou s antecedents : every day that thins an d shrivels her ch eek thickens and hardens th e paint o n it ; she con sumes more chalk and ceruse than would serve a whole ” c ourtf ul o f . crones It is to b e presumed , certainly “ th at in her case all i s not sweet , all i s not sound . Th e taint on her ﬂy -blown reputation i s h ard to over

f . come by patches and per umery Literature , to b e

o f worthy men , must be large , liberal , sincere ; and cannot be chaste if it be prudish . Purity and prudery cannot keep house together . Where free speech and f f air pl ay are interdicted , oul hints and evil suggestions are h atched into fetid li fe . And if literature in de e d i not to deal with the full li fe o f m an and the whole n ature o f o f things , let it be cast aside with the rods and rattles ff childhood . Whether it a ect to teach or to amuse , it is equally trivial and contemptible to us ; only less so than f the ch arge o immorality . Against how f e w really great names h as not this sm all and dirt-encrusted pebble been thrown ! A reputation seems i mperfect without this tribute also one jewel is wanting to the crown . It is good to be praised by those whom all men shoul d praise ; it is better to be reviled by those whom all men should scorn . xliii N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W' S

Various ch ances and causes must h ave combined to produce a state o f faith or feeling which woul d turn all “ ” art and literature into th e line o f children . One among others m ay be this : where th e h eaven o f in v e n f tion holds m any stars at once , there is no ear th at the highest and l argest will either e ff ace or draw aside into its orbi t all lesser ligh ts . Each o f these takes its own w ay and sh eds its proper lustre . But where one alone

d ro c e s is domin ant in heaven , it i s encircle by a pale p

o f w sion satellite moons , ﬁlled with sh allo and stolen

. v e rsiﬁ e rs radiance Thus , with English now , the idyllic form is alone i n fashion . The one great and prosperou s

o f poet the time has given out the tune , and the hoarser choir takes it up . His highest lyri cal work rem ain s u nimitated , being in the m ain i nimitable . But the trick o f t o ne which suits an idyl i s easier to assume ; and the note h as been struck s o often that the sh rillest songsters

ff . can a ect to catch it up We h ave idyls good and bad , ugly and pretty ; idyl s o f the farm and the mill ; i dyls o f th e dining -room and the deanery ; i dyls o f the gutter

If the f and the gibbet . Muse o the minute will not feast

- she with gi g men and their wives , must mourn with costermongers and their trulls . I fear the more ancient

Muses are guests at neither house o f mourning nor h ouse o f feasting . xliv N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

f his suc For mysel , I begrudge no man his taste or , cess ; I can enjoy and applaud all good work , an d w would al ays , when possible , h ave the workman pai d i n full . There is much excellent and som e admirable verse among the poems of the day ; to none h as it f given more pleasure th an to me , and rom none , had I been a m an o f letters to whom the ways were open woul d it h ave won heartier applause . I h ave neve been able to se e wh at should attract men to the pro fe s sion o f criticism but the nobl e ple asure o f praising . Bu I h ave no right to cl aim a place i n the silver ﬂock o f

. fo r i dyllic swans I h ave never worked praise or pay , f but Simply by impulse , and to please mysel ; I must

f is f there ore , it to be eared , rem ain where I am , shut

f o f . out rom the communion these At all events , I

’ shall not be hounded into emul ation o f other men s work by the baying o f unleashed beagles . There are those with whom I do not wish to share th e praise o f their praisers . I am content to abide a far different judgment

“ I wri te as o th e rs w ro te ’ ” On Sunium s h e ight .

I need not be over-careful to justi fy my ways in other

’ men s eyes ; it is enough fo r m e that they also work xlv N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

f ff a ter th eir kind , and earn the su rage , as th ey labour

f o f ow n . f a ter the l aw , their people The idylli c orm is best fo r domesti c and pastoral poetry . I t is naturally o n a lower level th an that o f tragic o r lyric verse . Its gentle and m aidenly lips are somewh at n arrow fo r the strea m and somewhat cold fo r the fire o f song . It is very fit fo r th e sole diet o f girls not very fit fo r th e sol e sustenance o f men .

o o f Wh en England has again such a scho l poetry , so

f has h e aded an d so ollowed , as she h ad at least twice f f be ore , or as France h as now ; when all higher orms o f the v arious art are included within th e l arger limits o f if a stronger race ; then , su ch a day should ever rise or return upon us , it will be once more remembered

f o f f that the o ﬁ ce adult art is neither puerile nor eminine , but virile ; th at its purity is not th at o f th e Cloister or

its o f the hare m ; that all things are good in sight , out which good work m ay be produced . Then the press will be as impotent as the pulpit to dictate th e l aws and remove the l andm arks o f art ; and those will be l aughed at w ho demand from one thing th e qualities o f another who seek fo r sermons in sonnets and morality i n Then all accepted work will be noble and ch aste in the wider m asculine sense , not truncated and

f - curtailed , but outspoken and ull grown ; art will be xlvi N O T E S O N P O E M S A N D R E V I E W S

i n i , no clipped and g ' w W w / ﬂ g forced growth o f unhealthy heat and unn atural air ; all

f o ff f baseness and all triviality will all rom it , and be f orgotten ; and no one will then need to assert , in

’ f o f fo r de ence work done th e work s sake , the simple l aws o f his art which no one will then be permitted to impugn .

A . C . SWINBURNE .

A B A L L A D O F L I F E

FOUND in dreams a place o f wind and ﬂowers )

o f an d o f Full sweet trees colour glad grass , I n m idst wh ereof there was

A l ady clothed like su mmer with sweet hours ,

f as H er beauty , ervent a ﬁery moon , Made my blood burn an d sw oon

Like a ﬂame rained upon . ’ S orrow h ad ﬁlled her shake n eyelids blue , ’ And her mouth s s ad red heavy rose all through

S eemed sad with gl ad things gone .

S h e held a little cithern by the strings ,

S haped heartwise , strung with W 3, Of som e dead lute pl ayer

That in dead years h ad done delicious things . Th e seven strings were named accordingly ; The ﬁrst string charity

The second tenderness ,

The rest were pleasure , sorrow , sleep , and sin , ’ And loving kindness , th at is pity s ki n

An d is most pitiless . A B A L L A D O F L I F E

There were three men with h er , each garmented With gol d and shod with gol d upon th e feet ;

And with plucked ears o f whe at . The ﬁrst m an ’s h air was woun d upon his he ad

f w as s a His ace red , and his m outh curled and d All his gold garment h ad

Pal e stains o f dust and rust . A riven hood was pulled across his eyes ; The token o f hi m being upon this wi se

M ade fo r a sign o f Lust .

f The n ext was S h ame , with hollow he avy ace

Coloured like green wood whe n ﬂ ame kindles it . H e h ath such feeble feet

Th ey m ay not well endure in any place . f f o f H is ace was ull grey old miseries , ’ And all his blood s incre ase

Was even increase o f pain .

w as The l ast Fe ar , that i s akin to Death ’ f H e i s S h ame s riend , and always as S h ame saith

Fear answers hi m agai n .

‘ I M i n y soul said me ; This i s m arvellous , ’ S eeing th e air s face i s not so delicate ’ s o Nor the sun s grace great ,

U . L sin an d sh e be kin or amorou s

And seeing wh ere m aidens served her on knees , I bade on e crave o f these

To know the cause thereo f .

4 A B A L L A D O F L I F E

Then Fear said : I am Pity that was dead .

: f And Sh ame sai d I am S orrow com orted .

And Lust said : I am Love .

Th ereat her h ands began a lute -pl aying And her sweet mouth a song i n a strange tongue ; And all the while sh e sung There w as no sound but long tears following ’ f Long tears upon men s aces , waxen white

With extreme sad delight . But those three following men Became as men raised up among th e dead ; f Great glad mouths open , and air cheeks m ade red ’ With child s blood come again .

Th en I said : Now assuredly I see

f tran sﬁ ure th My l ady is per ect , and g All sin and sorrow and death f M aking them air as her own eyelids be , Or lips wherei n my whole soul ’s lif e abides Or as her sweet white sides

An d bosom carved to kiss . f if f Now there ore , her pity urther me , Doubtless fo r her sake all my days shall be

As righteous as she is . J

Forth , ballad , and take roses in both arm s , Even till the top rose touch thee i n th e throat Where the least tho rnprick h arms - V And girdled in thy golden singing coat , A B A L L A D O F L I F E

Come thou be fore my l ady and say this ;

’ Borgia , thy gold h air s colour burns in m e , Thy mouth m akes beat my blood i n feverish rhymes ;

f as There ore so m any th ese roses be ,

Kiss me so many ti mes .

Th en it m ay be . seeing how sweet she is , Th at sh e will stoop hersel f none otherwise

- Th an a blown vine branch doth , f And kiss th ee with so t lau ghter on thine eyes ,

I Ball ad , an d on thy mouth . A B A L L A D O F D E A T H

f f NEEL down , air Love , and ﬁll thysel with tears , Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth

o f Upon the sides mirth , l Cover thy lips an d eye ids , let thi ne ears Be ﬁlled with rumour o f people sorrowing ; Make thee soft rai ment out o f woven sighs

Upon the ﬂesh to cleave , h S et pains therein and m any a grievous t ing , An d m any sorrows after each his wise

For armlet and fo r gorget and fo r sleeve .

’ 0 Love s lute h eard about the lands o f death Left h anged upon the trees th at were therein 0 J Love and Time and Sin , Three singing mouths th at mourn now under breath

o f Three lovers , each on e evil spoken ; O smitten lips wherethrough this voice o f mine C ame softer with her praise ; ’ Abide a little for our lady s love . The kisses o f her mouth were more than

An d more th an peace the passage o f her days .

7 A B A L L A D O F D E A T H

0 if she se e . Love , thou knowest were good to 0 Ti me , thou sh alt not ﬁnd in any land

o f Till , cast out thine h and , f f The sunlight an d th e moonlight ail rom thee ,

Anoth er woman fashioned like as this . 0 Sin , thou knowest th at all thy sh ame i n h er Was m ade a goodly thing ; a Yea , sh e caught S h ame and sh amed him with her kiss , f With h er air kiss , and lips much lovelier

Th an lips o f amorous roses in l ate spring .

( By night there stood over agai n st my bed O y e e n Venus with a hood striped gol d and bl ack Both sides drawn fully back

f o f From brows wh erein th e s ad blood ailed red ,

And templ es drained o f purpl e and full o f death . H er curled h air h ad the wave o f sea - water ’ An d th e se a s gol d i n it . ’ H er eyes were as a dove s th at sick e n e th. o f S trewn dust gold she h ad sh ed over her ,

é n d pe arl and purple and amber on her feet .

Upon her raiment o f dyed se n dalin e Were painted all the secret ways o f love f And covered thin gs thereo , Th at h ol d delight as grape -ﬂo w e rs hol d th eir wine ;

o f f o f Red mouths m aidens and red eet doves , An d brides th at kept withi n the bride - ch amber o f f Their garment so t shame ,

A B A L L A D O F D E A T H

Was the shut mouth whereby m en lived and died .

’ o f And sweet , but em ptied the blood s blue sh ade ,

The great curled eyelids th at withheld h er eyes .

An d sweet , but like spoilt gold ,

The weight o f colour i n h er tresses weighed .

n e w And sweet , but as a vesture with dyes ,

The body th at was cloth ed with love o f old . Y Ah th at my tears ﬁlled all h er woven hair

An d all th e hollow bosom o f h er gowns Ah th at my te ars ran down

Even to the pl ace where m any ki sses were ,

-fl o w e rs Even wh ere her parted breast have pl ace , Even wh ere th ey are cloven apart — who knows not Ah th e flowers cle ave apart And th eir sweet fills th e tender i nterspace ; Ah the leaves grown thereof were things to kis s

Er L e their ﬁne gol d was tarnished at th e h eart .

Ah in the days wh en God di d good to me , Each part about her was a righteous thing ;

H er mouth an almsgiving ,

o f The glory h er garments ch arity , o f Th e beauty h er bosom a good deed , I n the good days wh e n God kept sigh t o f u s ;

Love l ay upon her eyes , And on th at h air whereof the world takes heed An d all he r body w as more virtuous f Th an souls o women fashioned otherwise . I O A B A L L A D O F D E A T H

Now , ballad , gather poppies i n thine hands And sheaves of brier and m any rusted sheaves

- Rain rotten i n rank l ands , Waste m arigold and l ate u nh appy le aves And grass that fades ere any o f it be mown And when thy bosom i s ﬁlled full thereof ’ f S eek out Death s ace ere th e light altereth , An d s ay My master th at was thrall to Love ” I s become thrall to Death . f Bow down be ore hi m , ballad , sigh an d groan , But m ake no sojourn in thy outgoing For h aply it m ay be Th at when thy feet return at evening

Death shall com e i n with thee .

I I L A U S V E N E R I S

? fo r S LEEP or waking is it her n eck ,

Kissed over close , wears yet a purple speck Wherein the pained blood f alters and goes out ;

— f an d f f f o r . S o t , stung so tly airer a ﬂeck

But though my lips shut suckin g on th e pl ace , Th ere is no vein at work upon h er face ;

H er eyelids are so peaceable , no doubt

Deep sleep h as warmed her blood through all its ways .

’ is Lo , this sh e th at was the world s delight ; Th e ol d grey years were parcels o f her might ; The strewi ngs o f the w ays wherein she trod f Were the twai n seasons o the day an d night .

she w as Lo , thus when her clear limbs enticed

s ad All lips th at now grow with kissing Christ ,

f f f o f S tained with blood allen rom the eet God , f The eet and hands where at our souls were priced .

f . Al as , Lord , surely thou art great and ai r But lo her won derfully woven hair l And thou didst heal us with thy piteous kiss ;

is . But see now , Lord ; her mouth lovelier

I 2 L A U S V E N E R I S

S he i s right fair ; wh at h ath she done to thee ? f f Nay , air Lord Christ , li t up thine eyes and see ; H ad now thy mother such a lip — like this ? i Thou knowest how sweet a thing it s to me .

I nside th e Horsel here the air i s hot ;

b athfo r Right little peace one it , God wot ;

The scented dusty daylight burns the air ,

An d my heart ch okes me till I h ear it not .

’ Behold , my Venus , my soul s body , lies

- With my love l ai d upon h er garment wise , Feeling my love i n all her li mbs and h air

And sh ed between her eyelids through her eyes .

S h e holds my heart i n her sweet open h ands

H anging asleep ; hard by her head there stands , Crowned with gilt thorns an d clothed with ﬂesh like f Love , wan as oam blown up the salt burnt sands

Hot as the brackish wai fs o f yellow spu me M hf — f f W That s i t and steam loose clots o arid um e Wet/ ’ From the sea s panti ng mouth o f dry desire ;

Th ere stands he , like one labouring at a loom .

The warp holds fast across and every thread Th at m akes the woof up h as dry specks o f red ; u Always the shuttle cle aves clean thro gh , and h e

Weaves with the hair o f m any a ruined h ead .

1 3 L A U S V E N E R I S

Love i s not gl ad nor sorry , as I dee m ; d Labouring he reams , and labou rs i n the dream ,

10 s e e Till whe n the spool is ﬁnish ed , I

’

o ﬂ . His web , reeled , curls and goes out like steam

f Night alls like ﬁre ; the heavy lights run low ,

so And as they drop , my blood and body

f o f S hake as the ﬂame Shakes , ull days an d hours

Th at sleep not neither weep they as they go .

Ah yet would God this ﬂesh o f mine might be

Where air might wash and long leaves cover me ,

o f f o f Where tides grass bre ak into oam ﬂowers , ’ Or where the wind s feet shine along the se a .

Ah yet would God th at stem s and roots were bred V o f Out my weary body and my h e ad ,

That sleep were sealed upon me with a seal ,

And I were as the least o f all his de ad .

f Would God my blood were dew to eed th e grass , f Mine ears made dea and mine eyes blind as gl ass ,

My body broken as a turning wheel , And my mouth stricke n ere it saith Al as l

Ah God , th at love were as a ﬂower or ﬂame ,

f o f Th at li e were as the n aming a n ame , f Th at death were not more piti ul th an desire , Th at these things were not one thing and the s ame 1

I 4 L A U S V E N E R I S

is Behold now , surely somewh ere there death

o f v For each m an h ath some Space years , he saith , f A little space o time ere time expire ,

Of . A little day , a little way breath

10 sun daw n sun And , between the and th e , ’ ’ His day s work and his night s work are undone ; f An d lo , between the night all and the light ,

o f . H e is not , and none knoweth such an one

Ah God , th at I were as all souls th at be ,

f o f As any herb or lea any tree , o f As men th at toil through hours l abouring night ,

As bones o f men under the deep sh arp se a .

Outsi de it must be wi nter among men ; For at the gold bars o f th e gates again

o f I heard all night and all th e hours it , ’ The Wind s w e t wings an d ﬁngers drip with rain .

fo r Knights gather , riding sh arp col d ; I know Th e ways and woods are strangled with the snow And with short song the m aidens spin and sit ’ - Until Christ s birthnight , lily like , arow .

The scent an d sh adow shed about me make Th e very soul i n all my senses ache ;

fe d The hot h ard night is upon my breath , f f And sleep beholds me rom a ar awake .

1 5 L A U S V E N E R I S

Al as , but su rely where th e hills grow deep ,

o f O r where th e wild ways th e sea are steep , w Or i n strange pl aces some here there is death , ’ And on death s face the scattered h air o f sleep .

Th ere lover-like with lips and limb s th at meet

f o f f They lie , they pluck sweet ruit li e and eat ;

But me the hot and hungry days devour ,

And i n my mouth no fruit o f th eirs i s sweet .

f o f f o f No ruit theirs , but ruit my desire ,

’ For h er love s sake whose lips through mi ne respire ;

H er eyeli ds on her eyes like ﬂower on ﬂower ,

Mine eyelids on mi ne eyes like ﬁre on ﬁre .

w e n o t S o lie , as sleep th at lies by death , With h e avy kisses an d with happy breath

as b Not m an lies y woman , when th e bride ’ Laugh s low fo r love s sake and the words h e saith

For sh e lies , l aughing low with love ; sh e lies

An d turns his ki sses on her lips to sigh s , To sighing sound o f lips unsati sﬁed

And the sweet tears are tender with her eyes .

Ah , not as they , but as the souls th at were f f S lai n i n the old time , h aving ound h er air ;

Wh o , sleeping with her lips upon their eyes ,

H eard sudden serpents hiss across her h air .

1 6

L A U S V E N E R I S

Their blood runs round th e roots o f time like rai n She casts them forth and gathers th em again ; With nerve and bone she weaves and multiplies

Exceeding pleasure out o f extreme pain .

ﬂ o w e r- Her little chambers drip with like red ,

C o f Her girdles , and the h aplets her head , H er armlets and he r anklets ; with h er feet V She tramples all that winepress of th e dead .

f o f Her gateways smoke with ume ﬂowers and ﬁres , With loves burnt out and unassuaged desires ;

o f is Between her lips the steam them sweet ,

The languor in her e ars o f m any lyres .

f o f f Her beds are ull per ume and sad sound ,

Her doors are m ade with music , and b arred round

With sighing and with laughter and with tears ,

With tears whereby strong souls o f men are bound .

w as There is the knight Adonis that sl ai n , With ﬂesh and blood Sh e ch ains him f o r a ch ain ; The body an d the Spirit in h er ears

fo r . Cry , her lips divide hi m vein by vein

V Yea , all she sl ayeth ; yea , every m an save m e ;

Me , lov e , thy lover th at must cle ave to thee

o f o f Till the ending the days and ways earth ,

The sh aking o f the sources o f th e se a .

I 7 L A U S V E N E R I S

f o f all f Me , most orsaken soul s th at ell ;

Me , satiated with things in sati able

f o r Me , whose sak e the extreme h ell m akes mirth ,

o f . Yea , l aughter ki ndles at th e h eart hell

’ Al as thy beauty I fo r thy mouth s sweet sake t My soul i s bi ter to me , my li mbs quake

o f As water , as the ﬂesh men that weep , ’ As their h eart s vein whose heart goes nigh to break .

ﬂo w e r- ﬁ n e r- Ah God , th at sleep with sweet g tips Would cru sh the fruit o f death upon my lips ‘1 o f Ah God , th at death would tread th e grapes sleep

And wri ng their juice upon me as it drips .

o f fo r There i s no ch ange cheer m any days ,

o f But ch ange chi mes high u p in th e air , th at sways Rung by th e running ﬁn gers o f the Wind ;

And sin ging sorrows heard on hidden ways .

su n de re th Day smiteth d ay i n twai n , night ni ght , And on mine eyes th e dark sits as the light ;

Yea , Lord , th ou knowest I know not , h aving sinned

If heaven be cl ean or unclean i n thy sight .

if Ye a , as e arth were sprinkled over m e ,

f as S e a Such ch a ed h arsh earth ch okes a sandy , f Each pore doth ye arn , and th e dried blood th ereo

Gasps by sick ﬁts , my heart swi ms heavily ,

I 8 L A U S V E N E R I S

There is a feverish famine in my Veins ;

Below her bosom , where a crushed grape stains

The white and blue , there my lips caught and clove o f ? An hour Sin ce , and what m ark me remains

I dare not always touch h er , lest the kiss

. Ye a Lo rd Leave my lips charred , , , a littl e bliss

- ' f n e fo r— a - re at sin Brie bitter bliss , o hath g h Nathless thou knowest o w sweet a thing it is .

’ sin m Sin , i s it whereby en s souls are thrust I nto the pit ? yet h ad I a good trust f To save my soul be ore it slipped therein ,

- Trod under by the ﬁ re shod feet o f lust .

if f For mine eyes ail and my soul takes breath , I look between the iron sides o f death

I nto sad hell where all sweet love h ath end ,

All but the pain that never ﬁ n ishe th.

f o f There are th e naked aces great kings , The singing folk with all their lute -playings ; There when one cometh h e sh all h ave to friend “ The grave th at covets and th e worm th at clings .

There sit the knights th at were so great of h an d

o f f Th e ladies that were queens air green l and , 4

Grown grey and black now , brought unto the dust ,

S oiled , without rai ment , clad about with sand .

I 9 L A U S V E N E R I S

There is o n e end fo r all o f them ; th ey sit

o f it Naked and sad , they drink the dregs ,

- o f Trodden as grapes in th e wine press lust ,

Trampled and trodden by the ﬁery feet .

I s e e th e m arvellous mouth whereby there fell

Cities and people whom the gods loved well ,

fo r Yet h er sake on them th e ﬁre gat hold , f And f o r th eir sakes on her the ﬁre O hell .

f - f And so ter than the Egyptian lote lea is , f The queen whose ace was worth the world to kiss , I' Wearing at breast a suckling sn ake o f gold ; f And l arge pale lips o strong S emiramis .

’ Curled like a tiger s th at curl back to feed ; ‘ Red only where the l ast kiss made the m bleed ;

Her h air most thick with m any a carven gem ,

- De e . L p i n the m ane , great chested , like a steed

f o f Yea , with red sin the aces th em shi ne ; But in all these there was no sin like mine ;

o f No , not in all the strange great sins the m - f f Th at m ade the wine press roth and oam with wine .

’ ’ o f For I was Christ s ch oosing , I God s knight , No blink ard h eath en stu mbling fo r scant light ; fo r I can well see , all the dusty days f o . Gone past , th e clean great time goodly ﬁght

2 0 L A U S V E N E R I S

‘ I smell the breathing battle sh arp with blows , With shriek o f shafts and snapping short o f bows ; f Th e air pure sword smites out i n subtle ways , S ounds and long lights are shed between the rows

O f f beauti ul m ailed men ; the edged light slips , ﬁ l Most like a snake that takes short breath and dips f f S harp rom the beauti ully bending head , With all its gracious body lithe as lips

Th at curl in touching you ; right i n this wise)

My sword doth , seeming ﬁre i n mine own eyes , Le aving all colours in them brown and re d

ﬂ e ck e d And with death ; th en th e keen bre aths like sighs ,

-u f The caught p choke d dry l aughters ollowing them , When all the ﬁgh ti ng face i s grown a ﬂam e t For pleasure , and th e pulse th at s uns the ears , ’ And the h eart s gladness o f the goodly game .

Let me think yet a little ; I do know

These things were sweet , but sweet such years ago , Their savour is all turned now i nto tears

Yea , ten years since , where the blue ripples blow ,

of The blue curled eddies the blowing Rhine , I felt th e sharp Wind sh aking grass and Vine

Touch my blood too , and sting me with delight Through all thi s waste and weary body o f mine

2 1 L AgU S V E N E R I S

That never feels clear air ; right gl adly then

w a O ff I rode alone , a great y my men ,

And h eard the chi ming bridle smite and smite , f And gave e ach rhyme thereo some rhyme agai n ,

Till my song shif ted to that i ron one ; S eeing th ere rode up between me and the sun ’ O f f fo r his Some certain my oe s men , three

White wolves across their painted coats di d run .

- — Th e ﬁrst red bearded , with square cheeks alack , ’ I m ade my knave s blood turn his beard to black Th e sl ayi ng o f hi m was a joy to see

Perch ance too , when at night he came not back ,

f a- f S ome wom an ell weeping , wh om this thie Would beat when h e h ad drunken ; yet small grief H ath any fo r the ridding o f such knaves ; if f . Ye a , one wept , I doubt her teen was brie

is Thi s bitter love sorrow i n all lands ,

o f o f Draining eyelids , wringing drenched h ands , Sighing o f he arts and ﬁlling up o f graves ;

o f A sign across the h e ad the world he stands ,

As one th at h ath a pl ague -m ark on his bro w s ; Dust and spilt blood do track hi m to his house Down under e arth ; sweet s mells o f lip and cheek ( 4 Like a sweet snake ’s breath m ade more poisonous

2 2

L A U S V E N E R I S

t The broken li tle l augh th at spoil s a kiss ,

o f Th e ach e purple pulses , and the bliss O f blinded eyelids th at expand agai n o f Love draws them open with those lips his ,

Lips th at cling h ard till th e kissed face h as grown O f one sam e ﬁre an d colour with their o w n

e re The n one sleep , appease d with sacriﬁce , ” Wh ere hi s lips wounded , there his lips atone .

I I s ang these things long since and knew them not ;

is Lo , here is love , or there love , God wot , f This man and th at ﬁnds avour i n hi s eyes , ? I said , but I , wh at guerdon h ave I got

Th e dust o f praise th at is blown everywhere ’ I n all men s faces with the com mon air ; The b ay -le af that wants ch aﬁng to be sweet ’ Be fore they wi nd it i n a singer s h air .

S o th at one dawn I rode forth sorrowing ;

o f I had no hope but some evil thing ,

And so rode slowly past the windy wheat ,

- And past the vineyard and the water spring ,

- Up to the Horsel . A gre at elder tree Held bac k its he aps o f ﬂowers to let me see

Th e ripe tall grass , and one th at w alked therein ,

N aked , with h air shed over to th e knee .

2 4 L A U S V E N E R I S

S he walked between the blossom an d the grass ; o f I knew the beauty her , wh at she was , o f The beauty her body and her sin , of ! And in my ﬂesh the sin hers , al as

Al as fo r sorrow is all the en d o f this .

0 s ad f l kissed mouth , how sorrow ul it is O breast whereat some suckling sorrow cling Red with th e bitter blossom o f a kiss

f fo r f Ah , with blind lips I elt you , and ound A bout my neck your h ands and h air enwound ,

The h ands th at stiﬂe and th e h air th at stings ,

I felt them fasten sh arply without soun d.

fo r sin of s Yea , my I h ad great store bli s fo r Rise up , m ake answer m e , let thy kiss

f o f S e al my lips h ard rom speaking my si n ,

Lest one go m ad to hear how sweet it is .

f f o f Yet I waxed aint with ume barren bowers , And murmuring o f the h eavy -h eaded hours ; And let the dove ’s be ak fret and peck within f My lips i n vain , and Love shed ruitless ﬂowers

S o th at God looked upon me when your h ands

Were hot about me ; yea , God brake my bands f To save my soul alive , an d I cam e orth Like a m an blind and naked in strange l ands

2 5 L A U S V E N E R I S

Th at hears men laugh and weep , and knows not whence

f his Nor wh ere ore , but is broken i n sense ; Howbeit I met folk riding from th e north ’ o f ff Towards Rome , to purge them th eir souls O ence ,

An d rode with th em , and spake to none ; th e day

Stunned m e like lights upon some wizard way , And ate like ﬁre mine eyes and mine eyesight ;

S o rode I , h earing all th ese ch ant an d pray ,

I And m arvelled ; till before u s rose an d fell

o f White cursed hills , like outer skirts h ell ’ S een where m en s eyes look th rough th e day to night , ’ Like a j agged sh ell s lips , h arsh , untun abl e ,

’ Blown i n between by devils wrangling breath ;

l w e w o n Nath ess well past th at h ell and death ,

Down to th e sweet l and where all airs are good , ’ Even unto Rome where God s grace tarrieth .

Then cam e each m an and worshipped at hi s knees Who in th e Lord God ’s likeness bears th e keys ’ To bin d or loose , and called on Ch rist s sh ed blood ,

- And so the sweet souled f ather gave him ease .

e f his f But wh n I came I ell down at eet , ’ S aying , Fath er , though th e Lord s blood be right sweet , ’ o ff The spot it takes not the panther s skin , ’ Nor sh all an Ethiop s stai n be bleach ed with it .

2 6 L A U S V E N E R I S

Lo , I h ave sinned and h ave spat out at God , Wherefore his hand is heavier and his rod

o f More sh arp because mine exceeding si n , And all his rai ment redder th an bright blood

f fo r Be ore mine eyes ; ye a , my sake I wot The h eat o f h ell is waxen seven times hot ” Through my great sin . Then spake b e some sweet Givi ng me cheer ; which thing availed m e not ;

if Yea , scarce I wist such i ndeed were said ;

— as For when I ceased lo , one newly dead

o f e Who hears a great cry out hell , I h ard

Th e crying o f his voice across my head .

ff Until this dry shred sta , that h ath no whit Of f lea nor b ark , bear blossom and smell sweet , S eek thou not any mercy i n God ’s sight

For so long sh alt thou be cast out from it .

if -u w ax Yea , wh at dried p stem s red and green , S h all th at thing be which i s not nor h as been ? h if Yea , w at sapless bark wax green and white , S h all any good fruit grow upon m y sin ?

f o f Nay , though sweet ruit were plucked a dry tree ,

o f se a And though men drew sweet waters the ,

There shoul d not grow sweet leaves on this dead stem , f This waste wan body and sh aken soul o me .

2 7 L A U S V E N E R I S

Yea , though God search it warily enough , There is not one sound thing in all th ereo f ;

Though h e search all my vei ns through , searching

H e shall ﬁnd w ing whol e therein but love .

For I came home righ t h e avy , with sm all cheer , ’ 10 ow n An d my l ove , mine soul s h eart , more de ar

o w n f Th an mine soul , more be auti ul th an God , Who h ath my being between th e h ands o f h er

f fo r Fair still , but air no m an s aving me , As when she came out o f the n aked s e a f M aking the oam as fire wh ereon sh e trod , f And as the inner flower o fire was sh e .

Yea , she laid hold upon m e , and her mouth Cl ove unto mine as soul to body doth

i And , l aughing , m ade her lips luxur ous ;

o f Her h air h ad smells all the sunburnt south ,

o f f S trange spice and ﬂower , strange savour crushed ruit , And perfume the swart kings tread u nderfoot

For pleasure when their minds wax amorous ,

- Ch arred frankincense and grated sandal root .

f f And I orgot ear an d all weary things ,

All ended prayers and perished th anksgivings , Feeling her f ace with all her e ager h air

Cle ave to me , clinging as a ﬁre th at clings

2 8 L A U S V E N E R I S

To the body and to the raiment , burning them ; A s a fter death I know that such - like ﬂame

fo r S h all cleave to m e ever ; yea , wh at care ,

hav m f ? Albeit I burn then , g elt the same

f Ah love , there is no better li e th an this ;

is To h ave known love , how bitter a thing it , ’ And a fterward be cast out o f God s sight ;

Yea , these that know not , sh all they h ave such bliss

High up in barren heaven before his face

w e - As twain i n th e heavy hearted place ,

Remembering love and all the dead delight , And all th at time was sweet with fo r a space ?

For till the thunder in the trumpet be , f S oul m ay divide rom body , but not we O ne from another ; I hol d thee with m y

i o f I let mine eyes h ave all th e r will thee ,

f I seal mysel upon thee with my might , ’ Abiding alway out o f all men s sight Until God loosen over se a and l and f f The thu nder o the trumpets o the night .

E XP L I C IT L AUS VENERIS P H /E D R A

HIPP O L YT U S ;

PH zE D R A ;

C H O R U S O F TRCE Z EN I AN W O M EN .

HIPPO LYTUS .

AY not thine h and upon m e ; let me go ; T ake o ff thi ne eyes th at put the gods to Sh ame ; ? Wh at , wilt thou turn my loathi ng to thy death

PH zE DRA .

Nay , I will never loose n hol d nor breathe Till thou h ave Sl ain me ; godlike fo r gre at brows

as Th ou art , and thewed gods are , with clear h air

as Draw now thy sword and smite me thou art god ,

o f For verily I am smitten other gods , Why not o f thee ?

C HORUS .

o f O queen , take h eed words ; ? Why wilt thou e at the husk o f evil speech We ar wi sdom fo r th at veil about thy head f And goodness o r the bindi ng o f thy brows .

3 0

P H EE D R A

HIPPO LYTUS .

Let not th is woman wail and cl eave to me ,

’ Th at am no part o f th e gods wrath with h er ;

Loose ye her h ands from me lest She take hurt .

C HO RUS .

Lady , this speech and majesty are twain ;

Pure shame is O f one counsel with the gods .

HIPPO LYTUS .

Man is as beast when Shame stands Off from him . I

PH E DRA .

( ? Man , wh at have I to do with sh ame or thee

I am not o f one counsel with the gods .

I am th eir ki n , I h ave stran ge blood i n me , I am not o f their likeness nor o f thine f My vei ns are mi xed , and there ore am I mad ,

f f o w n Yea th ere ore ch a e and turn on mine ﬂesh ,

LHalf a woman m ade with h al f a god . But thou wast hewn out o f an iron womb

- And fe d with molten moth er snow fo r milk .

o f A sword was nurse thine ; Hippolyta , f Th at h ad the spear to ather , an d th e axe

o f - To bridesm an , an d wet blood sword sl ain m en - o f For wedding water out a nobl e well ,

n o f Even she di d bear thee , thinki g a sword ,

And thou wast m ade a man m istakingly .

3 2 P H /E D R A

fo r Nay , I love thee , I will h ave thy h ands , f o r Nay , I will not loose thee , thou art sweet , f ’ w if Thou art my son , I am thy ather s

I ache toward thee with a bridal blood ,

The pulse i s heavy in all my m arried veins ,

f f f o f My whole ace beats , I will eed ull thee ,

o f fe d My body i s empty ease , I will be ,

I am burnt to the bone with love , thou sh alt not go ,

I am heartsick , and mine eyelids prick mine eyes , Thou shalt not Sleep nor eat nor say a word

Till thou h ast slain me . I a m not good to live .

C HORUS .

This is an evil born with all its teeth ,

When love is cast out o f the bound o f love .

HIPPO L YTUS .

There is no h ate th at is so h ateworthy .

PH zE D RA .

o f w a I pray thee turn that h ate th ine my y ,

I hate not it nor anything o f thine .

Lo , m aidens , how he burns about the brow ,

- And draws the ch aﬁng sword strap down his hand . Wh at wilt thou do ? wilt thou be worse than death ?

as is Be but as sweet the bitterest ,

o f The most dispiteous out all th e gods , ? . LO so I am well pleased , do I crave much

3 3 P H / E D R A

f I do but bid th ee be u nmerci ul ,

Even th e on e thing thou art . Pity me not f Thou wert not qui ck to pity . Think o m e As o f a thin g thy houn ds are keen upon

I n th e wet woods between th e win dy ways , f And sl ay m e fo r a spoil . This body o mine ’ f f I s worth a wil d beast s ell or hide o h air , ’ And spotted deeper th an a panth er s g rain . I were but dead if thou wert pure indeed ;

I pray thee by thy col d green holy cro,wn

- An d by the ﬁlle t leaves o f Artemis .

Nay , but thou wilt not . Death is not like thee ,

Albeit m en hol d him worst o f all th e gods . ! o f f For all gods Death only loves not gi ts , Nor with burnt-off ering nor blood -s ac riﬁc e S h alt thou do aught to get thee grace o f hi m ;

o f — H e will h ave nought altar and altar song , And from him only o f all th e lords i n h e aven

Persuasion turns a sweet averted m o n th. But thou art worse f rom th ee with b aﬂie d breath f Ba ck on my lips my prayer alls like a blow ,

s a ? And beats upon th em , dumb . Wh at sh all I y There is no word I can compel thee with

To do me good and slay m e . But take heed ; s a e f I y , be w ary ; look betw en thy eet ,

Lest a snare take them th ough th e grou nd be good .

ZEs c h. Fr. Ni o b e

' “ ' é uo s 06 6 11 a Oar/ a rc s o z) Orb wv c K . 7 h. u y p p pd,

3 4 P H ZE D R A

HIPPO LYTUS . S h ame may do most where f ear is found most weak ’ f or That which sh ame s sake yet I h ave not done , S h all it be done fo r fears ? Take thine ow n way

Better the foot Slip th an the whole soul swerve .

PH E DRA .

Th e man is choi ce and exquisite o f mouth ;

Yet in the end a curse Sh all curdle it .

C HORUS .

H e goes with cloak upgathered to th e lip ,

Holding his eye as with some ill i n sight .

/E PH DRA . ’ f A bitter ill he h ath i the way thereo ,

And it sh all burn th e sight out as with ﬁre .

C HORUS . e Speak no such word wher to mischance i s kin .

PH /E DRA .

’ f f ' Out o my he art and by ate s leave I speak .

C HO RUS . f f S et not thy heart to ollo w a ter fate .

PH AEDRA .

0 m o f wo en , O sweet people this l and ,

a f O goodly city and pleasant w ys th ereo ,

- And woods with pasturing grass and great well heads , i And hills with l ght and night between your leaves ,

3 5 P H AED R A

An d winds with sound an d Silence i n you r lips ,

And earth and water an d all i mmortal things ,

I take you to my witness wh at I am .

is There a god about me like as ﬁre ,

w ho w ho h ? S prung whe nce , knoweth , or h at h eart to say

A god more strong th an who m sl ai n beasts can sooth e , o f - Or honey , or any spilth blood like win e , Nor Sh all one ple ase hi m with a whitened brow f f Nor wh eat nor wool nor aught o pl aited lea . a For like my mother am I stung an d Sl in , An d rou nd my c he ck s h ave such red m al ady

And on my lips su ch ﬁre and foam as h ers . This is th at Ate o ut o f Am athus n f Th at breeds up death an d gives it o e o r love . ’ fo r S he h ath sl ai n mercy , a nd dead mercy s sake ( Being frighted with this Sister th at w as slai n) Flees from before her fe arful - footed sh ame An d will not bear th e bendin g o f h er brows And long so ft arrows ﬂown from u nder the m

As f rom bows bent . Desire ﬂows out o f her As out o f lips doth speech and over her

S hines ﬁre , and round h er and bene ath her ﬁre .

an d S he h ath sown pai n plague i n all our house ,

o f Love loathed love , and m ates unm atch able ,

Wil d wedlock , an d the lusts that ble at or low , - f ff o f . -And m arriage odder snu ed about kine l LO how th e hei fer runs with leaping ﬂank t Sleek under sh aggy and speckled lies air ,

An d chews a horrible lip , and with h arsh ton gue

3 6 P H XE D R A’

La s f . L p alien roth and licks a loathlier mouth f o f Al as , a oul ﬁrst stream trodden tares ,

And fouler o f these l ate grapes underfoot . A bitter way o f w aves and clean -cut foam Over the sad road o f sonorous se a

fo r The high gods gave king Theseus no love ,

fo r n o . Nay , but love , yet to loving en d f Alas the long thwarts and the ervent oars , And blown hard sails th at straightened th e scant rope There were no stron g pools in the hollo w sea

To drag at them and suck down side and beak ,

No wind to catch them i n the teeth an d hair , f No shoal , no shallow among the roaring ree s , f t No gul whereout the straining ides throw spars , f No sur where white bones twist like whirled white ﬁre .

But like to death h e came with death , and sought

And slew and spoiled and gat him th at he would . fo r for - For death , m arri age , and chil d getting , I se t my curse against hi m as a sword ; f f Ye a , and th e severed hal thereo I leave f Pittheus , because h e slew not ( when th at ace f f Was tender , and the li e still so t i n it)

fo r f . The small swathed child , but bred him my ate I woul d I h ad been the ﬁ rst th at took her d Out from between w e t h oofs an d reddened tee

f o f Splashed horns , ﬁerce etlocks th e brother bull

For now sh all I take death a deadlier way , Gath ering it up between the feet o f love

Or Off the knees o f murder re aching it .

3 7 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

FO RE fo r E our lives divide ever , u s f While time i s with and h ands are ree , f f f ( Time , swi t to asten and swi t to sever f H and rom h and , as we stand by the sea) I word th at a m an might say ’ Whose whol e l i fe s lo ve goes down i n a day ;

For thi s coul d n ever h ave been ; and ne ver ,

o . Th ugh the gods and the ye ars rel ent , sh all be

Is is it worth a tear , it worth an h our , ? To think o f things th at are well outworn O f f f ruitless husk and ugitive ﬂower , Th e dream foregone an d th e deed forborne ? f Though joy be done with and grie be vain , Time Sh all not sever us wholly i n twain ; Earth is not spoilt fo r a single shower '

But th e rain has ruined the ungrown corn .

f o f It will grow not again , thi s ruit my h eart ,

S mitten with sunbeams , ruined with rain .

The singing seasons divide and depart ,

Wi nter and summer depart in twai n .

I t will grow not again , i t i s ruined at root , f The bloodlike blossom , the dull red ruit ;

3 8

T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

o f I h ave put my days and dre ams out mind ,

r . Days th at are ove , dreams th at are done

w e f Though seek li e th rough , we sh all surely ﬁnd

o f . There is none them clear to us now , not one

But clear are th ese things ; the grass and the s and ,

as Where , sure th e eyes reach , ever at h an d , f With lips wide open an d ace burnt blind , - The strong sea daisies feast on th e s un .

The low downs lean to th e se a ; the stream ,

O ne loose thin pulseless tremulous vei n ,

Rapid an d vivid an d dumb as a dream ,

o f the un Works downward , sick s and th e rain ; No wi nd is rough with th e rank rare ﬂowers ;

se a o f lov e s Th e sweet , mother and hours ,

S hudders an d shines as th e grey winds gle am ,

Turning her s mile to a fugitive pai n .

o f f f Mother loves that are swi t to ade ,

Moth er o f mutable wi nds an d hours .

- A barren mother , a moth er m aid ,

Col d and cle an as her faint s alt ﬂowers .

she I woul d we twai n were eve n as ,

o f Lost i n th e nigh t and the light the se a , f f Where aint soun ds alter and wan be am s wade ,

B reak , and are broke n , an d shed into Showers .

O f f o f The loves and hours th e li e a man ,

f f . They are swi t and sad , being born o the sea

40 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

fo r Hours th at rejoice and regret a span , ’ as Born with a man s breath , mortal he ;

Loves th at are lost ere th ey come to birth ,

O f f . Weeds the wave , without ruit upon earth

fo r I lose wh at I long , save wh at I can ,

fo r My love , my love , and no love me

It is not mu ch th at a m an can save

o f f o f On th e sands li e , in the straits time , Wh o swi ms in sight o f th e great third wave

Th at never a swimmer Sh all cross or cli mb . S ome wai f washed up with the strays an d spars A Th at ebb-tide Shows to the shore and the stars ; f f Weed rom the water , grass rom a grave ,

A broken blossom , a ruined rhyme .

fo r There will no m an do your sake , I think ,

Wh at I would h ave done fo r th e least word said .

f fo r I h ad wrung li e dry your lips to drink , Broken it up f or your daily bread Body for body and blood fo r blood As the ﬂow o f th e full se a risen to ﬂood b f Th at ye arns and trem les be ore it Sink ,

fo r . I h ad given , and l ai n down you , gl ad and dead

f Yea , hope at highest an d all h er ruit ,

f his And time at ullest and all dower , f I h ad given you surely , and li e to boot , Were w e once m ade one fo r a single h

4 1 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

ou But now , you are twain , y are cloven apart ,

o f his of Flesh ﬂesh , but h e art my heart ;

o n e the And deep i n i s bitter root ,

And sweet fo r o n e i s th e lifelong ﬂower .

if d fo r To h ave died you cared I shoul die you , clung f if To my li e you b ade me , pl ayed my part As it pl e ased you — th ese were the thoughts th at stung Th e dreams th at smote with a keener dart Th an sh afts o f love or arrows Of death; o r Th ese were but as ﬁre i s , dust , bre ath , Or poi sonous foam o n th e tender tongue

O f th e littl e snakes th at e at my heart .

w e - I wish were dead togeth er to day , o f o f Lost Sight , hidden away out sight

' Clas e d an d p cloth ed i n th e cloven cl ay , ’ o f the w a o f Out worl d s y , out the light ,

o f o f O ut th e ages worldly weather ,

o f Forgotten all m en altogether , ’ t k As the world s ﬁrst dead , a en wholly away ,

f o f the . Made one with death , ﬁlled ull night

‘. w e How shoul d Slumber , how we should sleep , Far i n th e d ark with th e dreams and th e dews

And dre aming , grow to e ach other , and weep , f Laugh low , live so tly , murmur and muse ;

Ye a , and it m ay be , struck through by the dream ,

Feel the dust qui cken and quiver , and seem

4 2 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

o f Alive as ol d to the lips , and leap t use Spirit o spirit as lovers u

Sick dreams and sad Of a dull delight ; For wh at shall it proﬁt when men are dead ’ to To h ave dreamed , have loved with the wh ole soul s might , To h ave looked f or day when the day was ﬂed ?

o n e Let come wh at will , there is thing worth To h ave h ad fair love i n the life upon earth To h ave hel d love safe till the day grew nigh

While skies h ad colour and lips were red .

? h Would I lose you now would I take you t en , If I lose you now that my heart h as need ? f An d come wh at m ay a ter death to m en , What thing worth this will th e dead y ears breed ? f Lose li e , lose all ; but at least I know , ’ f o u O sweet li e s love , h aving loved y so , o n H ad I re ached you earth , I shoul d lose not again , f n or I n death nor li e , in dream or deed .

: m i Yea , I know this well were you on ce sealed n e f‘ ’ m Mine in the blood s beat , ine i n the breath ,

i n i Mixed into m e as honey W ne ,

sa e th ain s a e th Not time that y and g y , Nor all strong things h ad severed us th en ; o f o f Not wrath gods , nor wisdom men ,

Nor all things earthly , nor all divine , w f Nor joy nor sorro , nor li e nor death .)

43 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

I h ad grown pure as the dawn an d th e dew ,

You o r h ad grown strong as th e su n th e se a . But none sh all triumph a whole life th rou gh n f o e . For death is , and th e ates are three

o f f o f At the door li e , by th e gate breath , There are worse thing s waiting f or men th an death ;

Death coul d not sever my soul and you ,

AS these h ave severed your soul f rom m e .

to n You h ave chosen and clung the ch a ce they sent you , f Lif e sweet as per ume an d pure as prayer . ” But will it not o n e d ay i n he aven repent you ?

Will they sol ace you wholly , th e days th at were ? f Will you li t up your eyes between sadness and bliss ,

is Meet mine , and see wh ere the great love , An d trembl e and turn an d be ch anged ? Content you ; n t Th e gate i s strait ; I sh all o b e there .

h had ou But you , h ad you c osen , y stretched hand , ou H ad y see n good such a thing were done , I too might h ave stood with the soul s that stand ’ o f n I n the sun s sight , cloth ed with th e light the su ut w ho now o n earth nee d care how I live ? h f H ave th e hig gods anything le t to give , S ave dust and l aurels and gol d and s and ? f Which gi ts are goodly ; but I will none .

f i O f all air lovers about th e world , of ou f There i s none y , non e , th at sh all com ort me .

44 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

as My thoughts are dead things , wrecked and whirled Round and round in a gul f o f the se a ;

And still , through th e soun d and the strai ning stream , f Through the coil and cha e , they gleam i n a dream ,

so Th e bright ﬁne lips cruelly curl ed ,

An d strange swi ft eyes where th e soul sits f ree .

f Free , without pity , withh el d rom woe ,

I g norant ; fair as th e eyes are fair .

Woul d I h ave you ch ange now , ch ange at a blow , ? Startled and stri cken , awake and aware

if I s e e Ye a , could , would I h ave you

o f My very love you ﬁlling me ,

An d know my soul to the quick , as I know The likeness and look o f your throat and hair

I Sh all not ch ange you . Nay , though I might , Would I ch ange my sweet one love with a word ?

I h ad rather your h air Shoul d ch ange in a night , Clear now as the plu me o f a bl ack bright bird f f Your ace ail suddenly , cease , turn grey ,

Die as a l eaf that dies in a day . LwilLk e e m p y soul pl a—cL e' out

4 f f t is n t l e r , ? f ‘ o , ud v g gl na Far where the pulse g j v n 3

off Far it walks , in a bleak blown Space ,

Full o f the sound o f th e sorrow o f years .

f o r f I h ave woven a veil th e weeping ace , Whose lips h ave drunken the wine o f tears ;

4S T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

f fo r f f I h ave ound a way th e ailing eet , A pl ace f o r slumber and sorrow to meet ;

is There no rumour about the pla ce ,

Nor light , nor any th at sees or h ears .

o f I h ave hidden my soul out sight , and said

Let none take pity upon thee , none

f : fo r Com ort thy crying lo , thou art dead f f f o o . Lie still now , sa e out sight th e su n

H ave I not built th ee a grave , an d wrought

- o f Thy grave clothes o n thee grievous th ought , f With so t spun verses and tears unsh ed , And sweet light visions o f thin gs undone ?

I h ave given th ee garments and b al m and myrrh ,

f . And gold , and beauti ul burial things

But th ou , be at peace now , m ake no stir ; I s not thy grave as a royal king ’s ? Fret not thysel f though th e end were sore ;

v e x . S leep , be p atient , m e no more Sleep ; wh at h ast thou to do with h er ? ? ” The eyes th at weep , with the mouth th at si ngs

o f Where the dead re d l eaves the years lie rotten ,

Old Th e col d cri mes an d th e deeds thrown by ,

The misconceived and th e misbegotten ,

s in I would ﬁnd a to do ere I die ,

to dissolve an d destroy m e all th rou g h ,

s e t would you h igher i n h eaven , serve you

T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

I will go back to th e gre at sweet mother ,

o f . Mother and lover men , th e sea

I will go down to her , I an d none other ,

Close with her , kiss her and mix her with f Cling to her , strive with h er , hold her ast ; f O air white mother , i n days long past

Born with out sister , born with out brother , f S et ree my soul as thy soul is f ree .

0 f - o f air green girdled mother mine , I sun S ea , th at art clothed with the and th e rain ,

Thy sweet h ard ki sses are strong like wi ne ,

Thy l arge embraces are keen like pain .

S ave me and hide m e with all thy waves ,

o f Find me one grave thy thousand graves ,

o f Those pure cold populous graves thine ,

Wrought without h and i n a world without stain .

I sh all sleep , and move with th e moving ships ,

as Ch ange the winds ch ange , veer in the ti de

f f o f My lips will east on the oam thy li ps ,

I sh all ri se with thy rising , with thee subside ;

if if s he S leep , an d not know sh e be , were , f f Filled ull with li e to th e eyes and hair , As a rose is fulﬁlled to th e ro s e le af tips

With spl endi d summer and perfume and pride .

o f This woven raiment nights and days , ff f Were it once cast O and unwou nd rom me ,

48 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

Naked and glad woul d I walk in thy ways , Alive and aware o f thy w ays and thee ; f Clear o the whole world , hidden at home f Clothed with the green and crowned with the oam ,

o f f o f A pulse the li e thy straits and bays ,

A vein in the he art o f the streams o f the se a .

fe d o f Fair mother , with the lives men ,

o f Thou art subtle and cruel heart , men say

Thou hast taken , and sh alt not render agai n ;

f o f . J Thou art ull thy dead , and col d as they But death is the worst th at comes o f thee ;

fe d 0 s e a Thou art with our dead , O mother , ,

fe d ? But when h ast thou on our hearts or when , ? H aving given us love , h ast thou taken away

0 - f tender hearted , O per ect lover ,

Thy lips are bitter , and sweet thine h eart .

Th e hopes that hurt an d the dreams th at hover , S hall they not vanish away and apart ?

But thou , thou art sure , thou art Older th an earth ; Thou art strong fo r death and fruitful o f birth Thy depths conceal and thy gulfs discover ; From the ﬁrst thou wert ; i n the end thou art

f f o r . And grie sh all endure not ever , I know A S things th at are not sh all these things be ;

o f sun o f We sh all live through seasons an d snow ,

And none be grievous as this to me .

49 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

o n e We Sh all h ear , as i n a trance th at hears ,

The o f o f soun d time , th e rhym e th e ye ars ; Wrecked hope an d passionate pai n will grow - e a As tender things o f a sprin g tide s .

-f the S e a ruit th at Swings i n w aves th at hiss ,

Drowned gol d an d purple and royal ri ngs .

w as for ? And all time past , it all this f o f ? Ti mes u n orgotten , and tre asures things f f S wi t y ears o liking and sweet lon g laughter , Th at wist not well o f th e years th ereafter

Till love woke , smitten at h eart by a kiss , Withlips that tre mbl ed and trailing wings ?

Th ere lived a singer i n Fran ce o f old

By th e tidel ess dolorous mi dl an d sea . I n a l and o f san d and rui n an d gold

There shone one wom an , an d none but She . ’ A n d f f r f ﬁndin g li e o h er love s s ake ail , f B ein g ain to see her , h e b ade set Sail , f Touched l and , and saw her as li e grew cold ,

so . An d praised God , seeing ; an d died he

d fo r f Die , praising God his gi t an d grace

she For bowed down to him weeping , and s aid Live an d her tears were sh ed o n his face

Or ever the li fe i n his face w as shed . f an d The sharp tears ell through h er h air , stung

Once , and her close lips tou ched hi m and clu ng

T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

o f o f Th e pulse war and passion wonder ,

The h eavens th at murmur , th e sounds th at shine ,

Th e stars th at sing and th e loves th at thunder ,

The music burning at h eart like wi ne , An arm ed arch angel whose h ands raise up All senses mixed in the Spirit ’s cup Till ﬂesh and Spirit are molten i n sunder

These things are over , and no more mine .

These were a part O f th e pl aying I heard f Once , ere my love and my he art were at stri e ; as Love that sings and h ath wings a bird , f f f B alm o f th e w ound and he t o th e kni e .

is s e a Fairer than earth the , and sleep

o f Th an overwatching eyes th at weep , Now time has done with his one sweet word

Th e wine and leaven o f lovely li fe .

o ut I sh all go my ways , tread my measure , Fill the days o f my daily breath f OOd With ugitive thi ngs not g to treasure ,

s a oth , y as it saith

if w e — O h ad loved each other sweet ,

f O f f you elt , lying u nder the palms your eet ,

o f h e heart my h e art , beating harder with pleasure To feel you tre ad it to dust an d death

had f Ah , I not taken my li e up and given f All that li e gives and the years let go ,

52 T H E T R I U M P H O F T I M E

The wine and honey , th e bal m and leaven , The dreams reared high and the hopes brough t f Come li e , come death , not a word be said ; ? S hould I lose you livi ng , and vex you dead

I never sh all tell you on earth ; and in heaven , If I ? cry to you then , will you hear or know

53 L E S N O Y A D E S

HATEVER a m an o f th e sons o f men

o f S hall s ay to his heart th e lords above ,

They h ave shown man verily , once and again ,

Marvellous mercies and i nﬁnite love .

f o f o f I n th e wild ﬁ th year th e ch ange things , - f When France was glorious and blood red , air

o f o f With dust battle an d death s kings ,

o f A queen m en , with hel meted h air ;

Carrier cam e down to th e Loire and sl ew , Till all the ways an d the w aves waxed red

Bound and drowned , slaying two by two ,

Maidens and young men , n aked and wed .

Th ey brought on a day to his judgment-pl ace

One rough with l abour and red with ﬁght , f And a l ady nobl e by n ame an d ace ,

f . Faultless , a m aiden , wonder ul , white

’ fo r Sh e knew not , being sh ame s sake bli nd , If f his eyes were hot o n her ace h ard by .

an d And the judge bade strip an d Ship them , bind

Bosom to bosom , to drown and die .

L E S N O Y A D E S

I h ave loved this wom an my whole li fe long ’ And even fo r love s sake when h ave I sai d ‘ ’ ? I love you when h ave I done you wrong , ? Livin g but now I sh all h ave you dead .

? Yea , now , do I bid you love me , love

Love m e or loathe , we are on e not twai n . But God be praised i n his heaven above For this my pleasure an d that my pai n I I

For never a m an , being m ean like m e ,

S h all di e like m e till the whole world dies .

fo r I sh all drown with h er , l aughing love ; and

Mix with me , touching me , lips and eyes .

S h all Sh e not know me and s e e me all through

she ? Me , on whose heart as a worm trod

You h ave given me , God requite it you ,

Wh at m an yet never w as given o f God .

0 f ’ O sweet one love , my li e s delight ,

Dear , though the days h ave divided us ,

far o f Lost beyon d hope , taken out sight ,

Not twice i n the world sh all the gods do thu s .

fo r ? H ad it been so hard my love but I ,

Though th e gods gave all th at a god can give , f I had chose n rather th e gi t to die ,

Cease , and be gl ad above all th at live .

56 L E S N O Y AD E S

For th e Loire woul d h ave driven us down to th e sea , And th e se a woul d h ave pitch ed us from shoal to shoal ;

An d I should h ave held you , and you hel d m e ,

As ﬂesh holds ﬂesh , and th e soul th e soul .

Could I ch ange you , help you to love me , sweet ,

Could I give you th e love th at woul d sweeten death , f We shoul d yield , go down , locked h ands and eet ,

Die , drown togeth er , and breath catch breath

f But you would h ave elt my soul in a kiss , And known th at once if I loved y o u well And I would h ave given my soul fo r this

To burn fo r ever i n burning hell .

57 A L E A V E - T A K I N G

ET us go hence , my songs ; she will not hear . Let us go hence together without fe ar ;

f o r - Keep silence now , singing time i s over ,

And over all ol d things and all things dear .

S he loves not you nor m e as all w e love h er .

Ye a , though we sang as angels i n her e ar ,

S he would not h e ar .

Let u s rise up and part ; she will not know .

Let u s go seaward as the gre at winds go , Full o f blown sand and foam ; wh at help i s there ?

fo r There is no h elp , all th ese things are so ,

And all th e worl d is bitter as a tear .

And how th ese things are , though ye strove to show

S h e woul d not know .

Let us go home and hen ce ; she will not weep .

We gave love m any dreams and days to keep , f Flowers without sce nt , and ruits th at would not grow , ‘ ’ If tho u . S aying , wilt , thrust i n thy si ckle and reap All is reaped now ; no grass is le ft to mow ; f And we that sowed , though all we ell on sleep ,

S h e would not weep .

I T Y L U S

VVALLOW 0 , my sister , Sister swallow , H ow can thi ne heart be full o f the spring ?

A thousa nd su mmers are over and dead . Wh at h ast thou fou nd in th e spring to follow ? Wh at h ast thou fou nd i n thi ne h eart to Sing ? Wh at wilt thou do when the sum mer is shed ?

0 f f O swallow , Sister , air swi t swallow , f Why wilt thou ﬂy a ter Spring to the south , The soft south whither thin e he art is set ? S h all not the grie f o f th e Old time follow ? S h all not th e song thereof cle ave to thy mouth ? H ast th ou forgotten ere I forget ?

0 S ister , my sister , ﬂeet sweet swallow , Thy w ay i s long to th e su n and th e south ; ’ f o f But I , ulﬁlled my heart s desire ,

S heddin g my song upon height , upon hollow , From tawny body and sweet sm all mouth

Feed th e h eart o f th e nigh t with ﬁre .

6 0 I T Y L U S

I the nightingale all spring through , 0 swallow , Sister , O changing swallow ,

All spring through till th e spring be done ,

o f Clothed with the light the night on the dew , f S ing , while the hours and the wil d birds ollow , f Take ﬂight an d ollow and ﬁnd the su n .

0 f S ister , my sister , so t light swallow , ’ f - Though all things e ast in the spring s guest ch amber , How h ast thou heart to be gl ad thereof yet ?

ﬂie st f For where thou I shall not ollow , f f Till li e orget and death re member ,

Till thou remember and I forget .

0 Swallow , my sister , singing swallow ,

I know not how thou hast heart to sing . H ast thou the heart ? is it all past over ?

the u m m e r f Thy lord s is good to ollow , And fair the feet o f thy lover th e spring But wh at wilt thou s ay to the spring thy lover ?

O swallow , sister , O ﬂeeting swallow , My heart in me i s a molten ember

And over my head the w aves h ave m et . f But thou woul dst tarry or I woul d ollow , f Could I orget or thou remember ,

Couldst thou remember and I forget .

6 1 I T Y L U S

0 f sweet stray sister , O Shi ting swallow , ’ Th e heart s division divideth us . Thy he art is light as a l ea f o f a tree ; But mine goes forth among s e a-gul fs hollow

o f o f To the pl ace th e Sl aying Itylus , f D li f o au s s e a . The east , the Thracian

0 swallow , sister , O rapid swallow ,

I pray thee sing not a little space . Are not the roof s and th e lintels we t ? f Th e woven web th at was pl ain to ollow , - f Th e sm all slain body , the ﬂower like ace , Can I remember if thou forget ?

ﬁ rst- ! O sister , Sister , thy begotten f f The hands th at cling and the eet th at ollow , ’ The vo rce o f th e child s blood crying yet W/zo [l a t/i rem e m b ere d m e ? w /zo b a t/i f o rg otten f Thou h ast orgotten , O summer swallow ,

But th e world sh all end when I forget .

A N A C T O R I A

fo r c Lest I too lure , a swallow a love ,

Ero tio n or Erinna to my love . I would my love coul d kill th ee ; I am sati ated

f . seeing thee live , and ain woul d h ave thee dead uld f earth h ad thy body as ruit to eat ,

’ no mouth but some serpent s found thee sweet . uld ﬁnd grievous ways to h ave th ee slain ,

su e rﬂ u x o f device , and p pai n ;

thee with amorous agonies , and sh ake to ac he at thy lips , and leave it there , ; f Strai n out thy soul with pangs too so t to kill ,

Intolerable i nterludes , and inﬁnite ill ;

o f Rel apse and reluctation the breath ,

Dumb tunes and shuddering semitones o f death .

o f th f I am weary all y words and so t strange ways , Of ’ all love s ﬁery nights and all his days , And all the broken kisses salt as brine

Th at shuddering lips make moist with waterish wine , And eyes th e bluer fo r all those hidden hours f f Th at pleasu re fills with tears and eeds rom flowers , f Fierce at the h eart with fire that h al comes th rough , But all the flower- like white stai n ed round with blue ; f The ervent underlid , and th at above Li fted with l aughter or abash ed with love ;

f o f f Thine amorous girdle , ull th ee and air ,

And l eavings o f the lilies i n thine hair .

o f Yea , al l sweet words thine and all thy ways ,

f o f o f And all the ruit nights and ﬂower days , And stinging lips wh erei n the h ot sweet bri ne

6 4 A N A C T O R I A

w as o f f That Love born burns and oams like wine , o f And eyes i nsati able amorous hours ,

as Fervent ﬁre and delicate as ﬂowers ,

Coloured like nigh t at heart , but cloven through

Like night with ﬂame , dyed round like night with blue , Clothed with deep eyelids under and above V Yea , all thy beauty sickens me with love ;

o f n o w f Thy girdle empty thee and not air ,

And ruinous lilies i n thy languid hair . ’ for Ah , take no thought Love s sake ; shall this be ,

“ ? And s he who loves thy lover not love thee O f S weet soul , sweet mouth all that laughs and lives ,

is she f . Mine She , very mine ; and orgives i For I beheld in sleep the light that s A" We” I n h er high place i n Paphos , h eard th e kiss Of body and soul th at mix with eager tears An d l aughter stinging through th e eyes and e ars ; f f S aw Love , as burning ﬂame rom crown to eet ,

I mperishable , upon her storied seat ; f Clear eyelids li ted toward the north and south ,

o f A mind m any colours , and a mouth O f m any tunes and kisses ; and she bowed , W f ith all her subtle ace laughing aloud ,

Bowed down u pon me , s aying , Who doth thee wrong , ? ” m f ” — s o e S appho but thou thy body is th e song , Thy mouth th e music ; thou art more th an I Though my voice die not till the whole world die ;

Thou g h men th at hear it m adden ; though love weep ,

Though nature change , though sham e be ch armed to sleep .

65 A N A C T O R I A

? Ah , wilt thou sl ay m e lest I kiss thee dead Yet the queen laughed from h er Sweet heart and said

she f fo r Even th at ﬂies sh al l ollow thy sake , f An d Sh e Sh all give thee gi ts th at would not take , ” S h all ki ss th at would not kiss thee ( yea , kiss m e) When thou wouldst not — wh en I woul d not kiss thee

as Ah , more to m e th an all m en thou art , S h all not my songs assuage h er at th e h eart ?

f a Ah , sweet to me as li e seem s sweet to de th , f f ? Why should her wrath ﬁll thee with, ear ul breath

fo r ? Nay , sweet , i s she God alone h ath She

o f Made e arth and all th e centuries the se a ,

the Tau ght sun ways to travel , woven most ﬁne

starb e am s f The moonbeam s , shed the orth as wine ,

Bound with h er myrtl es , beaten with her rods Th e youn g m en an d th e m ai dens and the gods ?

fo r H ave we not lips to love with , eyes tears , An d sum mer and ﬂower o f women and Of ye ars ?

f o r f o f fo r S tars the oot morning , and noon

o f Sunlight , and exaltation the moon ;

Waters th at answer w aters , ﬁelds th at wear

o f ? Lilies , and l anguor the Lesbi an air

f o f Beyond th ose ﬂying eet ﬂuttered doves , Are there not other gods fo r oth er loves ?

fo r Yea , though she scourge thee , sweetest , my s ake ,

Blossom not thorns , and ﬂowers not blood Should break .

Ah th at my lips were tunel ess li ps , but presse d TO th e brui sed blossom o f thy scourged w hite breast ! ’ Ah th at my mouth fo r Muses milk were fe d

6 6

A N A C T O R I A

f as is f S trike pang ro m pan g note struck rom note ,

’ Catch the sob s middle musi c i n thy throat , n e w - Take thy li mbs living , an d moul d with these “ A lyre o f m any faultless agonies ? Feed thee with fever and famine and ﬁne drouth f f With per ect pangs convulse thy per ect mouth , f f Make thy li e shudder i n thee and burn a resh , An d wring thy very spirit th rough th e ﬂesh ? Cruel ? but love m akes all th at love hi m well

As wise as h e aven and crueller th an, hell . Me h ath l ove m ade m ore bitter toward th ee Th an death toward m an ; but were I m ade as h e

Who h ath m ade all thi ngs to break them one by one , If my feet trod upon th e stars an d su n

o f as And souls m en his h ave alway trod ,

God knows I might be crueller th an God . who sh all ch ange with prayers or th anksgivi ngs e mystery o f the cruelty o f things ?

s a Or y wh at God above all gods and ye ars ,

ff -s ac riﬁ c e o f With o ering and blood tears , f f With l amentation rom strange l ands , rom graves

f o f Where the snake pastures , rom scarred mouths sl aves ,

f o f From prison , an d rom pl unging prows ships ’ Th rough ﬂ am e lik e foam o f the sea s closing lips

o f - With thwartings strange signs , and wind blown hair O f com ets , desol ating th e dim air , f s Wh en d arkness i s m ade ast with eal s an d b ars ,

o f And ﬁerce reluctance disastrous stars ,

o f Eclipse , and soun d sh aken hill s , and wings

6 8 A N A C T O R I A

Darkening , and blind i nexpi able things

o f With sorrow labouring moons , and altering light

o f o f And travail the pl anets the night ,

o f And weeping the weary Pleiads seven , Feeds th e mute melancholy lust o f heaven ?

Is his 7 not this incense bitterness , meat Murder ? his hidden face and iron feet f H ath not m an known , and elt th em on their way Thre aten and trampl e all things and every day ? H ath he not sent us hunger ? w ho h ath cursed Spirit and ﬂesh with longing ? ﬁlled with thirst Their lips who cried unto him ? who bade exceed f f f The ervid will , all short the eeble deed ,

B ade Sink the Spirit and the ﬂesh aspire ,

o f Pain anim ate the dust dead desire , And life yield up her ﬂower to Violent fate ?

H im woul d I reach , hi m smite , him desecrate ,

C o f Pierce the ol d lips God with hum an breath ,

An d m ix his i mmortality with death . A Why h ath he made us ? what had all we done

Th at we shoul d live and loathe th e sterile sun ,

w ax An d with the moon paler as She wanes , And pulse by pulse feel time grow through our veins ? Thee too th e years shall cover ; thou sh alt be

A S of the rose born one same blood with thee , f As a song sung , as a word said , and all

— Flower wise , and be not any more at all , Nor any memory o f thee anywhere ; For never Muse has bound above thine h air

6 9 A N A C T O R I A

The high Pierian ﬂower whose graft outgro w s All summer kinshi p o f th e mortal rose

o f And colour deciduous days , nor sh ed

o f Reflex and flush h eaven about thine head , Nor reddened brows m ade pale by floral grie f

With splendid sh adow from th at lordlier leaf . f Ye a , thou sh alt be orgotten like spilt wine , Except these kisses o f my lips on thine Brand the m with im mortality ; but me

he a : se a Men sh all not see bright ﬁre nor t the , m ix Nor their h earts with music , nor beh old Cast forth o f heaven with feet o f awful gol d And plumeless wings th at m ake the bright air blind

fo r b o u n d Lightning , with thunder a behind Hunting th rough ﬁelds un furrowed and u nsown

But i n the light and l aughter , i n th e moan

o f li And music , and i n grasp p and h an d An d shudder o f water th at m akes felt on land

o f se a The i m measurable tremor all th e ,

Memories sh all mix and metaphors o f m e .

o f Like m e sh all be th e shuddering cal m ni ght , When all the winds o f the worl d f o r pure deli ght Close lips th at quiver and f old up wings that ach e ;

’ fo r When nightingales are louder love s sake , And l eaves tremble like l ute -strings or like ﬁre ; Like me th e on e star swooning with desire

o f Even at the col d lips the sleepless moon ,

As I at thine ; like m e th e waste white noon , Burnt through with barre n sunlight ; and like me

7 0

A N A C T O R I A

o f Nor sl ay nor sati ate , like those h erds his

Who l au gh and live a little , an d th eir kiss f Contents th em , an d th eir loves are swi t and sweet , f And sure death grasps and gai ns them with slow eet ,

Love they or h ate th ey , strive or bow their knees

And all th ese end ; h e h ath his will o f th ese .

Yea , but albeit h e sl ay m e , h ating m e Albeit h e hide m e i n th e deep dear sea f And cover me with cool wan oam , an d e ase

o f of This soul mine as any soul thes e ,

An d give m e water and great sweet waves , and m ake ’ fo r The very se a s n ame lordlier my sake , Th e wh ol e se a sweeter — albeit I die i ndee d f And hide mysel an d sleep and no m an heed ,

O f m e the high God h ath not all his will .

o f Blossom bran ch es , and on e ach high hill

Clear air an d wind , and under i n clamorous vales

o f Fierce noises the ﬁery ni ghtingales , Buds burning in th e sudden spring like ﬁre ’ The wan washed sand and the waves vai n desire ,

S ail s seen like blown white ﬂowers at Sea , and words f o f Th at bring tears swi test , and long notes birds Violently singing till the whol e worl d sings

I S appho sh all be one with all these thi ngs , With all hi gh thi ngs f o r ever ; an d m y face

S een once , my songs once heard i n a strange pl ace , ’ f Cle ave to me n s lives , and waste th e days thereo

With gl adness and much sadness and long love . ’ Yea , th ey Sh all say , earth s womb h as borne i n vai n A N A C T O R I A

New things , and never this best thing again ; f Borne days and men , borne ruits and wars an d wine ,

S easons and songs , but no song more like mine . h And t ey shall know me as ye who h ave known me here ,

Atthis t Last year when I love d , and his year

s a When I love thee ; and th ey sh all praise me , and y “ S he h ath all time as all we have our day , S h all she not live and h ave h er will — even I ?

s a h . Yea , thoug h thou diest , I y I s all not die

o f For these sh all give m e their souls , sh all give f Li e , and the days and loves wh erewith I live ,

Sh all quicken me with loving , ﬁll with breath ,

t for . S ave me and serve me , s rive m e with death

Al as , th at neither moon nor snow nor dew

Nor all col d things can purge me Wholly through ,

Assuage me nor allay me nor appease , Till supreme Sleep sh all bring m e bloodless ease ; Till ti me wax faint in all his periods ;

f o f Till ate undo the bondage the gods , m e An d lay , to Slake an d satiate all through ,

Lotus and Lethe on my lips like dew , And shed around and over and under me

Thick d arkness and the insuperabl e sea .

7 3 H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

(A FTE R TH E PRO C LA MATION IN R O M E O F T H E CH RI STIAN FA IT H)

V C L L / E I ISTI , GA I E

HAVE lived long enough , h aving seen one thing , th at love h ath an end ;

Goddess an d m aiden and queen , be near m e now and

befriend .

Thou art more th an the day or th e morrow , the seasons th at l augh or th at weep ;

For these give joy and sorrow ; but thou , Proserpina ,

Sleep .

o f f o f Sweet is th e treading wine , and sweet the eet th e dove ; But a goodlier gi ft is thi ne th an foam O f the grapes

or l ove .

har strin o f Yea , i s not even Apollo , with h ai r and p g

gold , f w f ? A bitter God to ollo , a be auti ul God to beh old I am si ck o f singing : th e bays burn deep and ch a fe : I am fain To rest a little from praise and grievous pl easure and

pai n .

7 4

H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

o f f An d all th e wings th e Loves , and all the j oy be ore de ath

f o f All th e eet the hours th at soun d as a single lyre ,

Droppe d and deep i n th e ﬂowers , with strings th at

ﬂicker like ﬁre . f More th an th ese wilt th ou give , things airer th an all these things ?

fo r w e f . Nay , a little live , and li e h ath mutable wings A littl e while an d we die ; shall li fe not thrive as it m a

his For no m an u nder th e sky lives twice , outliving day

f o f And grie i s a grievou s thing , and a m an h ath enough his tears f f Why should he labour , and brin g resh grie to bl acken his years ?

has Thou h ast conquered , O p al e Galilean ; th e worl d grown grey fro m thy breath

o f fe d We h ave drunken things Lethean , and on the

fulness o f de ath .

fo r fo r Laurel is green a season , and love is sweet a day

But love grows bitter with treason , and laurel outlives

not M ay .

f ? fo r Sleep , sh all we sleep a ter all the world i s not sweet in th e end ; f f For th e ol d aiths loosen and all , th e new years rui n

and rend .

76 H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

is e a Fate a s without shore , and the soul is a rock th at abides ; But her e ars are vexed with the roar an d her face with

the foam o f the tides .

f o f O lips th at the live blood aints in , the leavings racks and rods

of o f O gh astly glories saints , dead limbs gibbeted Gods f Though all men abase them be ore you i n Spirit , and

all knees bend ,

I kneel not neither adore you , but standing , look to

the end .

All delicate days and pleasant , all spirits and sorrows are cast Far out with the foam o f th e present th at sweeps to the surf o f th e past

- Where beyond the extreme Sea wall , and between th e

- remote sea gates , f Waste water washes , and tall ships ounder , and deep death waits

Where , mighty with deepening sides , cl ad about with

the seas as with wings ,

o f f o f And impelled i nvisible tides , and ul ﬁlled unspeak

able things ,

- -ﬁ n n e d - White eyed and poisonous , sh ark toothed and

- serpenti ne curled ,

of f Roll s , under the whitening wind the uture , the wave

o f the world .

7 7 H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

Th e depths stand n aked i n sunder behind it , th e storms ﬂee away ° I n the hollow before it th e thu nder is tak en and snared as a prey ; I n its sides is th e north -wi nd boun d ; an d its salt i s o f

’ all men s tears ;

o f o f With ligh t ruin , and sound ch anges , and pulse o f years

\ o f f o f Vith travail day a ter day , and with troubl e hour upon hour ; And bitter as blood is the spr ay ; and the crests are as fangs that devour And its vapour and storm o f its ste am as th e sighing o f spirits to be ; And its noise as th e noise in a dream ; and its depth as th e roots o f the se a An d the h eigh t o f its heads as th e h eight o f the utmost stars o f the air

o f f An d the ends th e earth at the might thereo tremble ,

and time is m ade b are .

s e a Will ye bridle the deep with reins , will ye ch asten th e high se a with rods ?

w ho is Will ye take her to ch ain her with chains , older than all ye Gods ?

All ye as a win d Shall go by , as a ﬁre shall ye pass and be past ;

Ye are Gods , and behold , ye sh all die , and th e waves

be upon you at last .

7 8

H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

o f - White rose th e rose white w ater , a silver splendour ,

a ﬂame ,

Bent down unto us th at besou ght h er , and earth grew

sweet with her n ame . , For thi ne cam e weeping , a sl ave among sl aves , an d rej ecte d ; but she

f f -ﬂ ushe d Came ﬂushed rom the ull wave , and imperial ,

h er foot on th e se a . L. f w And th e wonder ul waters kne h er , th e winds and th e

viewless ways ,

- And th e roses grew rosier , and bluer th e sea blue

stream o f the bays . f ? Ye are allen , ou r lords , by wh at token we wi st th at

ye shoul d not fall . Ye were all s o fair th at are broke n ; and one more fair

th an ye all .

t she But I urn to h er still , h aving seen Sh all surely abide in th e end ;

Goddess and m aiden and queen , be near me now and

be friend .

o f o f O daughter earth , my moth er , her crown and

o f blossom birth , I am al so , I also , thy brother ; I go as I came unto

e arth . r In th e nigh t wh ere thine eyes are as moon s are in

h e aven , th e ni g ht wh ere thou art ,

t u Where th e silence is m ore th a n all nes , wh ere sleep f overﬂows rom th e heart ,

8 0 H Y M N T O P R O S E R P I N E

Where the poppies are sweet as the rose i n our world ,

and th e red rose is white , And the wind falls faint as it blows with the fume o f

o f the ﬂowers the night , And the murmur o f spirits th at Sleep i n the sh adow o f Gods from afar Grows dim in thine ears and deep as the deep di m soul

o f a star ,

of f I n the sweet low light thy ace , u nder heavens untrod

sun by th e , f Let my soul with their souls ﬁnd pl ace , and orget wh at

is done and undone . Thou art more th an the Gods w ho number th e days o f our temporal breath

For these give l abour and slumber ; but thou , Proser

pin a , death . J Th erefore now at thy feet I abide fo r a season in

silence . I know

as f I sh all die my ath ers died , and sleep as they sleep ;

even so . For the gl ass o f the years is brittle wherein w e gaze f o r a span ; ! A littl e soul for a little bears up this corpse which is man .

S O long I endure , no longer ; and l augh not ag ain ,

neither weep . For there is no God found stronger than death ; and

death is a sleep .

9“ ’ x . x/ vxdptov e?Baar dfo v y ep u EPICTET US . I L I C E T

HERE is an end o f jo y and sorrow ;

Pe ace all day long , all night , all morrow ,

But never a ti me to l augh or weep .

o f The end is come pleasant pl aces ,

o f f The end tender words and aces , v

o f the . Th e end all , poppied sleep

fo r No place sound withi n their hearing ,

fo r f No room to hope , no time earing ,

fo r . No lips to l augh , no lids tears The old years h ave run out all th eir measure

o f o f No ch ance pain , no ch an ce pleasure ,

No fragment o f the b roken years .

o f Outside all the worlds and ages ,

f as is There wh ere the ool is the sage ,

O f There wh ere the sl ayer is cl ean blood ,

No end , no passage , no begi nning ,

o ff There where th e Sin ner leaves Sinning ,

There wh ere the good m an is not good . r The re i s not one thing with another ,

to : But Evil s aith Good My brother ,

8 2

I L I C E T

is ? Nay , there h elp i n heaven it m ay be

All things and lords o f things sh all cease .

Th e stooped urn , ﬁlling , dips and ﬂashes Th e bronzed brim s are deep in ashes ;

The pale ol d lips o f death are fe d . S h all this dust gath er ﬂesh hereafter ? f S hall one sh ed tears or all to l aughter , At sight o f all these poor ol d dead ? I

O f Nay , as th ou wilt ; th ese know not it ; ’ Thine eyes strong weeping sh all not proﬁt , Thy l augh ter sh all not give thee ease ;

Cry aloud , spare not , ce ase not crying ,

Si gh , till thou cleave thy sides with si ghi ng

Th ou sh alt not raise up one o f these .

Burnt spices ﬂash , and burnt wine hisses , ’ Th e breathi n g ﬂ am e s mouth curl s and ki sse s Th e small dried rows o f frankincense ;

All round th e sad red blossom s smoul der ,

Flowers coloured like the ﬁre , but colder , I n sign o f sweet things taken hence ;

’ fo r f Yea , their sake and i n death s avour Things o f sweet sh ape and o f sweet savour

We yield th em , spice and ﬂower an d wi ne ;

Yea , costlier things th an wi ne or Spices ,

f n Whereo no e knoweth h ow great th e price i s ,

And fruit th at comes not o f the vine .

84 I L I C E T

From boy ’s pierced throat and girl ’s pierced bosom

- Drips , reddening round the blood red blossom , f Th e slow delicious bright so t blood ,

Bathing the spi ces and th e pyre , f Bathing the ﬂowers a nd allen ﬁre ,

Bathing the blossom by the bud .

Roses whose lips the ﬂame has deadened Drink till the lapping leaves are reddened And warm wet inner petals weep ; f The ﬂower whereo sick sleep gets leisure ,

o f B arren bal m and purple pleasure ,

Fumes w ith no native steam o f sleep .

Why will ye weep ? wh at do ye weeping ? f For waking olk and people sleepi ng , f And san ds that ﬁll an d s ands th at all ,

- The days rose red , th e poppied hours ,

Blood , wine , and spice and ﬁre and ﬂowers ,

There i s one en d o f one an d all .

Sh all such an one lend love or borrow ? S h all these be sorry fo r thy sorrow ? S hall these give th anks f o r words or breath ? I. Their h ate is as th eir loving -kindness

f o f Th e rontlet th eir brows i s blindness , f The armlet o their arms is death .

LO fo r o f , no noise or light thunder

- S h all these grave clothes be rent i n sunder ,

8 5 I L I C E T

? H e that h ath taken , sh all h e give He hath rent the m : sh all h e bi nd togeth er ? H e h ath bound th em shall h e bre ak the teth er ? H e h ath sl ain them : sh all he bid th em live ?

r A little sor ow , a little pleasure , Fate metes us from th e dusty m easure Th at holds th e date Of all o f us ; We are born with travail and strong crying And from the birth — day to th e dy ipg

Th e likeness o f our li fe is thus .

him se lf to O ne girds serve another ,

f w as Whose ather th e dust , whose m oth er The littl e dead red worm therei n ; They ﬁnd no fruit o f things th ey cherish

o f Th e goodness a m an sh all peri sh ,

I t sh all be one thing with his sin .

I n deep wet w ays by grey ol d garde ns Fed with sh arp spring the sweet fruit h ardens ; They know not wh at fruits wan e or grow ; Red sum mer burns to th e utmost ember ;

They know not , neith er can remember ,

The old years and ﬂowers they used to know .

fo r Ah , th eir sakes , so trapped and taken , f f For th eirs , orgotten and orsaken ,

f . Watch , sleep not , gird thysel with prayer

o f Nay , where the h eart wrath i s broken ,

8 6

H E R M A P H R O D I T U S

IFT fo r up thy lips , turn round , look back love , Blind love th at comes by night and casts out rest ; Of a all things tired thy lips look we riest ,

S ave th e long smile that th ey are wearied o f .

Ah sweet , albeit no love be sweet enough Choose o f two loves and cleave unto the best ; Two loves at either blosso m o f thy bre ast

S trive u ntil one be u nder and one above .

Their breath is ﬁre upon the amorous air , Fire i n thine eyes an d where thy lips suspire

so f And whosoever h ath seen th ee , being air , Two things turn all his li fe an d blood to ﬁ re ;

A strong desire begot on gre at despair ,

A great despair cast out by strong desire .

f f Where between sleep and li e some brie space is ,

Wi th love like gold bound round about the head ,

w e d S ex to Sweet sex with lips a nd limbs is ,

8 8 H E R M A P H R O D I T U S

Turning the fruitful feud o f hers and his To the waste wedlock o f a sterile kiss ; Yet from them something like as ﬁre is shed Th at sh all not be assuaged till death be dead

Though neither li fe nor sleep can ﬁnd out this . Love m ade himsel f Of ﬂesh that peri sh eth A pleasure -house fo r all the loves his kin ;

s at But on the one side a m an like death ,

And on the other a woman s at like sin . S o with veiled eyes and sobs between his breath

Love turned him sel f and would not enter in .

Love , is it love or sleep or Sh adow or light Th at lies betw een thine eyelids and thine eyes ?

Like a flower l ai d upon a flower it lies , ’ Or like the night s dew l aid upon the night . f Love stands upon thy le t h and and thy right , Yet by no sunset and by no moonrise ’ S h all make thee m an and ease a woman s sighs , ’ Or m ake thee woman fo r a m an s delight . To what strange end hath som e strange god made fair The double blossom o f two fruitless flowers ?

f o f Hid love in all the olds all thy hair ,

Fed thee on summers , watered thee with showers , Given all th e gol d that all the seasons wear To thee th at art a thing o f barren hours ?

8 9 H E R M A P H R O D I T U S

se e is f . Yea , love , I ; it not love but ear f Nay , sweet , it is not ear but love , I know ; Or wherefore shoul d thy body ’s blossom blow

S o sweetly , or thine eyelids l eave so clear Thy gracious eyes th at never m ade a tear

fo r b lo o d should Though their love our tears like ﬂow , f l Though love and li e and death shou d come and go ,

f so ? S o dread ul , so desirable , de ar

s aw f Yea , sweet , I know ; I i n wh at swi t wise Beneath the woman ’s and the water ’s kiss

Thy moist li mbs melted into S al m acis ,

And th e large light turned tender in thi ne eyes , ’ An d all thy boy s breath so ftened i nto sighs ;

o f ? But Love being blind , how should he know this

All Mus o dzi Lou re ars 1 . e v , M 863

9 0

F R A G O L E T T A

0 sole desire o f my delight ! O sol e delight o f my desire ! Mine eyelids and eyesight Feed on thee day and night

Like lips o f ﬁre .

Lean back thy throat o f carven Let thy mouth murmur like the

S ay , Venus h ath no girl ,

f o f f No ront emale curl ,

Among h er Loves .

Thy sweet low bosom , thy close h air , f f Thy strait so t ﬂanks and Slenderer eet ,

Thy virgin al strange air , Are these not over fair For Love to greet ?

? How should h e greet thee wh at new n am e , ’ Fit to move all men s he arts , could move f Thee , dea to love or sh ame , ’ Love s sister , by the same Mother as Love ?

’ is Ah sweet , the m aiden s mouth col d ,

— H er breast blossoms are simply red ,

Her hair m ere brown or gol d , Fold ov e r Sim ple fold

Binding her h ead .

9 2 F R A G O L E T T A

o f Thy mouth is m ade ﬁre and wine , Thy barren bosom takes my kiss And turns my soul to thine

And turns thy lip to mine ,

And mine it is .

Thou hast a serpent in thine h air , I n all the curls that close and cling

-ﬂo w e ! And ah , thy breast r f Ah love , thy mouth too air To kiss and sting !

m e . Cleave to , love me , kiss mine eyes S atiate thy lips with loving me ;

for Nay , thou Shalt not rise Lie still as Love th at die s f For love O thee .

Mine arms are close about thine f f My lips are ervent on thy ace , An d where my kiss h ath fe d Thy ﬂ o w e r-like blood l eaps red

To the kissed pl ace .

0 bitterness o f things too sweet 0 broken singing Of the dove ’ Love s wings are over ﬂeet , And like the panth er ’s feet

The feet o f Love .

9 3 R O N D E L

HES E m any years since we began to be , ? What h ave the gods done with u s wh at with me , ? f f Wh at with my love they h ave shown me ates an d ears ,

f s e a H arsh spri ngs , and ountai ns bitterer th an th e , f t Grie a ﬁxed star , and j oy a v ane th a veers ,

These m any years .

? With her , my love , with h er h ave th ey done well But w ho sh all answer fo r h er ? wh o sh all tell

s ad ? S weet things or , such thi ngs as no m an hears f if f May no tears all , no tears ever ell , From eyes more dear to m e th an starriest spheres These m any years

if fo r f But tears ever touched , any grie , f - f Those ey elids olded like a white rose lea ,

-ﬂ o w e r Deep double sh ell s wherethrough the eye peers , f Let th em weep once more only , sweet and brie ,

f fo r Brie tears and bright , one who gave her tears

Th ese m any years .

9 4

S A T I A T E S A N G U I N E

Wh ere , wh en the gods woul d be cruel , ? Do they go fo r a torture wh ere ? Pl ant thorns , set pai n like a j ewel ! Ah , not i n the ﬂesh , not th ere

The racks o f earth and the rods Are weak as foam on th e sands ;

fo r I n th e h e art is th e prey gods ,

f . Who cruci y h earts , not h ands

Mere pangs corrode and consume , Dead when life dies i n th e brain I n the i nﬁnite spirit is room

For the pulse o f an i nﬁnite pai n .

I wish you were dead , my dear ;

I would give you , h ad I to give , S ome death too bitter to fear ;

It is better to die th an live .

I wish you were stricken o f thu nder

And burnt with a bright ﬂame th rough ,

Consumed and cloven in sunder ,

I dead at your feet like you .

If I f coul d but know a ter all ,

I migh t cease to hunger and ach e ,

Though your heart were ever so sm all , f i I t were not a stone or a sn ake .

9 6 S A T I A T E S A N G U I N E

w e You are crueller , you th at love , o r Than hatred , hunger , death ;

You have eyes and breasts like a dove , ’ And you kill men s hearts with a breath .

As pl ague in a poisonous city

I nsults and exults on her dead ,

fo r S o you , when pallid pity

f fe d. Comes love , and awns to be

As a tame beast writhes and wheedles , H e fawns to be f e d with wiles ;

o f You carve hi m a cross needles ,

And whet them sh arp as your smiles .

o f He is patient thorn and whip , H e i s dumb u nder axe or dart ; You su ck with a sleepy red lip

The wet re d wounds in his heart .

You thrill as his pulses dwindle ,

You brighten and warm as he bleeds , With ins atiable eyes th at ki ndle f And insatiable mouth th at eeds .

Your h ands nailed love to the tree ,

You stript him , scourged him with rods , And drowned him deep i n the s e a

Th at hides the dead and their gods .

9 7 S A N T I A T E S A N G U I N E

f o r An d all this , die will he not ; There is no man sees him but I You came and went and forgot ;

I hope he will some day die .

A L I T A N Y

T H IRD ANTIPHONE

As th e tresses and wings o f the wind

Are scattered and Sh aken ,

I will scatter all them th at h ave sinned , There sh all none be taken ;

As a sower th at scattereth seed , S o will I scatter them

shatte re th As on e breaketh and a reed ,

I will bre ak an d Sh atter them . I FOURTH ANTIPHONE

As th e wings and th e locks o f the wind

Are scattered and sh aken , Thou hast scattered all th em that h ave sinned

w as There no m an taken ,

As a sower that scattereth seed , S o h ast thou scattered u s ;

shatte re th As one breaketh an d a reed ,

Thou h ast broken and shattered u s .

FIFTH ANTIPHONE . From all thy lovers th at love thee I God will sunder thee k I will m a e darkness above thee , An d thick darkness under thee ; f Be ore me goeth a light , Behi nd me a Sword ; S h all a rem nant ﬁnd grace in my sight ?

I a m th e Lord .

I 00 A L I T A N Y

SIX TH ANTIPHONE

From all our lovers th at love us Thou God didst sunder us k Thou m adest dar ness above us , An d thick darkness under us

fo r Thou h ast kindled thy wrath a light , And m ade ready thy sword

Let a remn ant ﬁnd grace in thy sight ,

0 . We beseech th ee , Lord

SEVENTH ANTIPHONE .

Wilt thou bring ﬁne gol d fo r a payment For sins on this wise ? For the glittering o f raim e n t

o f And th e shining eyes , For the painting o f faces o f And the sundering trust , For the sins o f thine high places An d delight o f thy lust ?

For your high things ye sh all h ave lowly Lamentation fo r song ;

For , behold , I God am holy , I th e Lord am strong ; Ye sh all seek me and shall not reach m e Till the wi ne -press be trod t In th at hour ye sh all urn and beseech me ,

S aith the Lord God .

1 0 1 A L I T A N Y

EIGHTH ANTIPHONE .

fo r Not with ﬁne gold a payment ,

o f But with coi n sigh s , But with rending o f raiment

o f And with weeping eyes , But with sh ame o f stri cken faces And with strewing o f dust For the sin o f stately pl aces And lordship o f lust ;

o f With voi ces men m ade lowly ,

o f M ade empty song , 0 Lord God most holy , O God most strong We reach out h ands to reach th ee Ere th e wine - press be trod ;

We beseech thee , O Lord , we beseech

O Lord our God .

NINTH ANTIPHONE

In th at hour thou sh alt say to the night Com e down an d cover us ; f To the cloud on thy le t and thy right , Be thou spread over us ;

A snare sh all be as thy mother , And a cu rse thy bride ;

Thou Sh alt put her away , and another

S hall lie by thy side .

I O 2

A L I T A N Y

We could not arise by day , Nor lie down by night ;

w a Thy sword was sh arp i n our y , Thy word i n our sight ; Th e deligh t o f our eyelids was m ade AS o f th e burning ﬁre , And our souls became sorely afraid ’ For our soul s desire .

! the We whom world loved well ,

Laying silver and gold on us , The kingdom o f death and o f hell Riseth up to take hol d on us ; a Our gold i s turned to token , Our sta ff to a rod ;

Yet sh alt thou bind them u p th at were broken ,

0 Lord our God .

1 04 A L A M E N TA T I O N

H0 hath known the ways o f time Or trodden behind his f eet ?

There is no such m an among men .

For ch ance overcomes him , or crime Changes ; f o r all things sweet

I n time wax bitter again .

Who sh all give sorrow enough , ? Or w ho the abun dance o f te ars Mine eyes are heavy with love

And a sword gone through mine ears ,

A sound like a sword and ﬁre ,

fo r For pity , great desire ; f Who sh all ensure me thereo ,

f o f f ? Lest I die , being ull my ears

Who hath known the ways and the wrath ,

The sleepless Spirit , the root

o f v An d blossom e il will , Th e divine device o f a god ?

1 0 5 A L A M E N T A T I O N

Wh o sh all behol d it or h ath ?

— The twice tongued prophets are mute , The m any speakers are still ;

f has No oot travelled or trod ,

his . No h and h as meted , path ’ f is - f Man s ate a blood red ruit , And the mighty gods h ave their ﬁll

An d relax not the rein , or the rod .

f m of old Ye were mi ghty i n h eart ro ,

an d . Ye slew with th e Spear , are sl ain f Keen a ter heat is the cold , f S ore a ter summer i s rain ,

And melteth m an to the bone . As water h e weareth away

As a ﬂower , as an hour i n a day ,

Fallen from laughter to moan . But my spirit is Sh aken with fe ar

Lest an evil thing begin ,

Ne w - fo r born , a spear a Spear ,

An d one fo r another sin .

Or ever our tears began , It was known from o f old and sai d ;

f o r On e l aw a living m an ,

And another l aw f o r th e dead . f f For these are e ar ul an d sad ,

Vain , and things without breath ;

While h e lives let a m an be glad ,

For none h ath joy o f his death .

I o 6

A L A M E N T A T I O N

A S a gre ave i s cleft with an arrow

o f At th e joint the knee , I h ave cle ft through th e sea-straits narrow

To th e h eart o f the se a . Whe n air was smitten i n sunder I have watched on high The ways o f the stars and the thu nder I n th e night o f the sk y ; f Where th e dark brings orth light as a ﬂower , A s from lips th at dissever ; 1

o f O ne abideth the space an hour ,

O ne endureth fo r ever .

Lo , what h ath h e seen or known O f the way and the wave

-o u Unbeholden , unsailed , unsown , From the breast to th e grave ?

Or ever th e stars were m ade , or skies , f Grie was born , and the kinless night ,

Mother o f gods without form or n ame .

is o f an d And light born out heaven dies , ’ And one day knows not another s ligh t ,

But night i s one , and her sh ape th e same . But dumb the goddesses underground

a w e if f W it , an d hear not on earth th ei r eet

Ri se , and the night wax loud with their wings ;

o f Dumb , without word or sh adow sound ; And si ft i n scales and wi nnow a s wheat

’

o f f . Men s soul s , and sorrow m ani ol d things

1 0 8 A L A M E N T A T I O N

III .

Nor less o f grief th an ours Th e gods wrought long ago To bruise men one by on e ; But with the incessant hours Fresh grie f and greener woe

the sun Spring , as sudden Year after year m akes ﬂowers ;

And these die down and grow ,

And the next year l acks none .

As th ese men sleep , h ave slept

Th e ol d h eroes in ti me ﬂed , No dream-divided sleep ; And holier eyes have wept

Th an ours , when on her dead

Gods h ave seen Thetis weep , With heavenly h air far-swept

Back , heavenly h ands outspread

Round wh at she could not keep ,

Could not one day withhold , One nigh t ; and like as these

o f White ashes no weight , H el d not his urn the cold Ash es o f Heracles ? For all things born o n e gate

o f Opens , no gate gold ; Opens ; and no m an sees

Beyond the gods and fate .

1 09 X A N I M A A N C E P S

ILL de ath h ave broken f ’ - S weet li e s love token , Till all be Spoken

Th at sh all be said ,

Wh at dost th ou praying ,

0 n Soul , and pl ayi g

With song and saying , Things flown and fled For this we know not Th at fresh springs flow not And fresh griefs grow not When m en are dead ; Wh en strange years cover

Lover and lover , And joys are over

An d tears are shed .

If one day ’s sorrow Mar th e day ’s morrow If m an ’s li fe borrow And m an ’s death pay

1 1 0

I N T H E O R C H A R D

J ( PROVENQAL BURDEN) I

EAVE go my hands , let me catch breath and Let th e dew -f all drench eith er side o f me ; Clear apple -leaves are soft upon th at moon S een sidelong like a blossom i n th e tree ;

d so . Ah God , ah God , th at day shoul be soon

The grass is thick and cool , it lets us lie .

Kissed upon either ch eek and either eye , I turn to thee as some green a fternoon

Turns toward sunset , and is loth to die

so . Ah God , ah God , th at day shoul d be soon

f Lie closer , le an your ace upon my side ,

f has Feel where th e dew ell that h ardly dried , Hear how th e blood beats th at went nigh to swoon ; Th e pleasure lives there whe n the sense has died ;

Ah God , ah God , th at d ay sh ould be so soon .

1 1 2 I N T H E OR C H A R D

f O my air lord , I charge you leave me this Is it not sweeter than a foolish kiss ?

Nay take it then , my ﬂower , my ﬁrst in June ,

so My rose , like a tender mouth it is

so . Ah God , ah God , th at day should be soon

f Love , till dawn sunder night rom day with ﬁre ,

Dividing my delight and my desire , f The crescent li e and love the plenilune , Love me though dusk begin and dark retire ;

Ah God , ah God , that day should be so soon .

f w w Ah , my h eart ails , my blood dra s back ; I kno , f f When li e runs over , li e is near to go ; ’ An d o f with th e Sl ain love love s ways are strewn ,

if so And with their blood , love will h ave it ;

Ah God , ah God , th at day shoul d be so soon .

Ah if , do thy will now ; sl ay me thou wilt ;

is There no building now the walls are built ,

- No quarrying now the corner stone is hewn , ’ No drinking now the vine s whole blood is spilt ;

S O . Ah God , ah God , th at day should b e soon

fo r Nay , sl ay me now ; nay , I will be sl ai n ; f o f Pluck thy red pleasure rom the teeth pain ,

- Break down thy vine ere yet grape gatherers prune , S lay me ere day can sl ay desire again ;

Ah God , ah God , that day shoul d be so soon .

1 1 3 I N T H E O R C H A R D

Yea , with thy Sweet lips , with thy sweet sword ;

f fo r s a Take li e and all , I will die , I y ; f ? Love , I gave love , i s li e a better boon ’ For sweet night s sake I will not live till day ;

Ah God , ah God , that d ay should be so soon .

Nay , I will sleep then only ; n ay , but go .

Ah sweet , too sweet to me , my sweet , I know

Love , sleep , and death go to th e sweet same tune

f so . old my h air ast , and kiss me through it

Ah God , ah God , th at day should be so soon .

1 1 4

A M A T C H

If f you were li e , my darli ng ,

And I your love were death .

If you were thrall to sorrow ,

An d I were page to joy , ’ We d play fo r lives an d season s With loving looks and tre asons And tears o f night an d morrow And l aughs o f m ai d and boy ; If you were thrall to sorrow ;

And I were page to joy .

If ’ you were April s lady ,

And I were l ord in M ay ,

’ We d throw with l eaves fo r h ours

fo r And draw days with ﬂowers , Till day like night were sh ady An d night were bright like day ; If ’ you were April s l ady ,

And I were lord in May .

If o f you were queen pleasure ,

o f And I were king pain ,

’ We d hunt down love together ,

-f Pluck out his ﬂying eather , f And teach his eet a measure , And ﬁnd his mouth a rei n ;

If o f you were queen ple asure , f And I were king o pain .

1 1 6 " F A U S T I N E

A v e F a us tina I m e ra t ri m orituri t e sa luta n t p x ,

’ EAN back , and get some minutes peace ; Let your head lean B ack to the Shoulder with its ﬂeece

O f . locks , Faustine

The shapely silver shoulder stoops , Weighed over clean With state o f splendid h air th at droops

Each side , Faustine .

Let me go over your good gifts That crown you queen A queen whose k in gdo rn ebbs and

Each week , Faustine .

Bright heavy brows well gathered up White gloss and sheen ; Carved lips that m ake my lips a cup

To drink , Faustine .

1 1 7 F A U S T I N E

ine and rank poison , milk and blood , Being mi xed th erei n ince ﬁrst the devil threw dice with God

For you , Faustine .

- Your naked new born soul , their stake , Stood blind between God s aid “ let hi m th at wins her take ” An d keep Faustine .

But this time S atan throve , no doubt ;

Long since , I ween ,

’ God s part i n you w as battered out ;

Long since , Faustine .

f Th e die rang si deways as it ell ,

Rang cracked and thin , Like a m an ’s l aughter h eard in hell

Far down , Faustine .

o f A sh adow laughter like a sigh , ’ Dead sorrow s kin ; ’ S o rang , thrown down , th e devil s die

n That w o Faustine .

o f his A suckling breed you were , One h ard to wean ; f f But God , who lost you , le t you air ,

We see , Faustine .

1 1 8

F A U S T I N E

S he loved the games men pl ayed with death , Where death must w in ; As though the Sl ain m an ’s blood and bre ath

Revived Fausti ne .

Nets caught th e pike , pikes tore the net ; Lithe limbs and lean From drained -out pores dripped thick red sweat

To soothe Faustine .

Sh e drank the steaming dri ft an ddust Blown o ff the scene ; Blood coul d not e ase the bitter lust

Th at galled Faustine .

f f at f All round the oul urrows reeked , Where blood sank i n ; The circus spl ashed and seethed and shrieked

All round Faustine .

But th ese are gone n o w ye ars entomb The dust and din ; ’ f Yea , eve n the bath s ﬁerce reek and um e

That sle w Faustine .

Was life worth living th en ? and now J I s li fe worth s in ? Where are th e imperial years ? and how ? Are you , Faustine

1 2 0 F A U S T IN E

f f Your soul orgot her joys , orgot Her times o f teen f Yea , this li e likewise will you not i ? Forget , Faust ne

For i n the time we know not o f Did fate begin Weaving the web o f days that wove

u . Your doom , Fa stine

The threads were wet with wine , an d all Were smooth to spin ;

They wove you like a Bacch an al ,

The ﬁrst Faustine .

And B acchus cast your m ates and you Wild grapes to glean ; Your ﬂ o w e r-like lips were dashed with dew

From his , Faustine .

Your drenched loose hands were stretched to hold ’ The Vine s wet green , Long ere they coined in Roman gold f Your ace , Faustine .

Then after ch ange o f soari ng feather

And winnowing ﬁn ,

o f f You woke i n weeks everish weather ,

A new Faustine .

I Z I F A U S T I N E

A star upon your birthd ay burned , Wh ose ﬁerce serene Red pul seless pl anet n eve r yearned

In h eaven , Faustine .

S tray breaths o f S apphic son g th at ble w J Th rough Mityl ene S hook th e ﬁerce qu iver i ng blood in y ou

By night , Faustine .

Th e sh ameless n ameless love th at m akes ’ X H ell s iron gi n S hut on you like a trap th at breaks

The soul , Faustine .

And wh en your veins were void and dead , it Wh at ghosts u nclean S warmed round the straitened barre n bed That hid Faustine ?

Wh at sterile growth s O f sexless root ? in Or epicene Wh at ﬂower o f kisses without f ruit O f ? love , Faustine

Wh at adders came to shed their coats ?

d Wh at coiled obscene S mall serpents with so ft stretchin g th roats Caressed Faustine ?

1 2 2

F A U S T I N E

a f Curled lips , long since h l kissed away , S till sweet and keen ; ’ You d give him — poison sh all w e ? Or wh at , Faustine

1 2 4 A C A M E O

HERE was a graven i mage o f Desire Painted with red blood on a ground o f gol d Passing between the young men and the ol d

An d by hi m Pain , whose body shone like ﬁre ,

And Pleasure with gaunt hands that grasped their hire . Of f his le t wrist , with ﬁngers clenched and cold ,

The ins atiable S atiety kept hold , f Walking with eet unshod that pashed the mire .

The senses and the sorrows and the sins , And the strange loves th at suck th e breasts o f H ate

Till lips an d teeth bite i n their sh arp i ndenture , o f Followe d like beasts with ﬂap wings and ﬁns . f Death stood aloo behind a gaping grate ,

w as Pe ra dv Upon whose lock written en tn re .

1 2 5 S O N G B E F O R E D E A T H

( FROM T HE FRENC H )

m in utd s WEET moth er , i n a span Death parts th ee and my love o f thee

S weet love , that yet art living m an ,

f . Come back , true love , to com ort me ! B ack , ah , come back ah well away

But my love comes not any day . 6

As roses , when the warm West blows ,

f an d Break to ull ﬂower sweeten spring , My soul would break to a glorious rose

In such wise at his whispering . I n vai n I listen ; well away !

My love s ays nothing any day .

You th at will weep fo r pity o f love

On the low place where I am lain ,

I pray you , h aving wept enough , Tell hi m fo r wh om I bore such pain ! Th at h e was yet , ah well away

My true love to my dying day .

1 2 6

R O C O C O

We h ave drained his lips at leisure , Till there ’s not l eft to drain

o f A single sob ple asure ,

A single pulse o f pain .

Drea m th at th e lips once breathless Might quicken if th ey woul d S ay th at th e soul i s deathless ; Dream th at the gods are good ;

S ay March m ay wed S eptember , I And time divorce regret ;

But not th at you remember ,

And not th at I forget .

We h ave h eard from hidden pl aces Wh at love scarce lives and hears We h ave seen on fervent f aces The pallor o f strange tears : ’ w - We h ave trod the ine vat s treasure ,

Whence , ripe to steam and stain , Foams round the f eet o f pleasure

- Th e blood red must o f pain .

Re membrance m ay recover And time b ring back to time

o f The name your ﬁrst lover , Th e ring o f my ﬁrst rhyme ; But rose -leaves o f December

f o f f The rosts June sh all ret ,

1 2 8 R O C O C O

Th e day that you remember ,

The day th at I forget .

The sn ake th at hides an d hisses I n heaven w e twain h ave known ;

f o f The grie cruel kisses , The joy whose mouth m akes moan ; ’ The pulse s pause an d measure , Where i n one furtive vein Throbs through the heart o f pleasure

of . Th e purpler blood pai n 4

We h ave done with tears and treasons ’ An d love f or treason s sake

fo r f Room the swi t new seasons ,

The years th at burn and bre ak , Dism antle an d dismember ’ Men s days and dreams , Juliette ;

For love m ay not remember ,

But time will not forget .

f Li e treads down love in ﬂying , Time withers him at root ;

Bring all dead things and dying , f f Reaped shea and ruined ruit , ’ Where , crushed by three days pressure Our three days ’ love lies slain

f o f And earlier lea pleasure ,

An d l atter ﬂower o f p ain .

1 2 9 R O C O C O

Bre athe close upon th e ashes , I t may be ﬂame will leap ; f Unclose the so t close lashes ,

f . Li t up the lids , and weep ’ Li ght love s extingui sh ed ember , Let one tear leave it wet For one th at you remember

And ten that you forget .

T H E L E P E R

OTHING is better , I well thi nk Than love ; th e hidden well -water I s n ot so delicate to drink f This was well seen o m e and her .

I served her i n a royal h ouse ;

I served her wine and curious meat . For will to ki ss between her brows

I had no heart to sleep or eat .

Mere scorn God knows she h ad o f me ; f A poor scribe , nowise great or air , ’ Who pluc ked his clerk s hood back to s e e

- Her curled up lips and amorou s h air .

I vex my head with thinking this .

' alw a s hate d Yea , though God y me , And h ates me now that I can kiss

se e H er eyes , pl ait up her h air to

‘ she How th en wore it on th e brows , Yet am I gl ad to h ave her dead Here in this wretch ed wattled h ouse

Wh ere I can kiss h er eyes and head .

1 3 2 T H E L E P E R

Nothing is better , I well know , Than love ; no amber in cold s e a Or gathered berries under snow

Th at i s well seen o f her and me .

Three thoughts I make my pl easure o f First I take heart and think o f this ’ she Th at knight s gold h air chose to love ,

His mouth she h ad such will to ki ss .

Then I remember that su n daw n I brought him by a privy way

Out at her lattice , and thereon Wh at gracious words S he found to s ay

( Cold rushes fo r such little feet f Both eet could lie into m y hand . A m arvel w as it o f my sweet

Her upright body could so stand . )

f Sweet riend , God give you th ank an d grace ;

o f Now am I clean an d whole sh ame , Nor Shall men burn m e in th e f ace f For my Sweet ault th at scandals them .

I tell you over word by word .

S he , sitting edgewise on her bed , f Holding her eet , said thus . The third

A Sweeter thing than these , I said .

I 3 3 T H E L E P E R

God , th at m akes ti me and ruins it

And alters not , abiding God ,

Ch anged with disease her body sweet , f Th e body o love wherein sh e abode .

Love is more sweet an d comelier ’ Th an a dove s th roat strained out to sing . All they spat out and cursed at her

f f r And cast her orth o a base thing .

They cursed her , seeing how God h ad wrought

o f . This curse to pl ague her , a curse his

Fools were th ey surely , seeing not

How sweeter th an all sweet she is . f H e th at h ad hel d her by th e h air ,

With kissing lips blin ding her eyes ,

Felt h er bright bosom , strai ned an d b are ,

Sigh under him , with short m ad cries

Out o f h er throat an d sobbing mouth

And body broken up with love , With sweet hot te ars his lips were loth

o w n o f H er shoul d taste th e savour ,

Yea , he inside whose grasp all night f H er ervent body leapt or l ay ,

Stain ed with Sh arp ki sses red and white ,

Found her a plague to Spurn away .

1 3 4

T H E L E P E R

d S ix month s , an d now my sweet is ead A trouble takes me ; I know not If all were done well , all well said

NO word o r tender deed forgot .

fo r Too sweet , the least part in her , f f To h ave sh ed li e out by ragments ; yet , an d Could the close mouth catch breath stir ,

I might see something I forget .

S ix month s , an d I sit still and hold

I n two cold pal ms her col d tw o feet . f f Her h air , h al grey hal ruine d gold ,

Thrills m e and burns m e i n kissi ng it .

Love bites an d stings me through , to see

H er keen face m ade o f sunken bones .

-Off Her worn eyelids m adde n me ,

Th at were sh ot through with purpl e on ce .

S h e said , Be good with m e ; I grow ’ fo r S o tired sh ame s sake , I sh all die

If you say nothing even so .

s he . An d is dead now , and shame put by

o f Yea , and th e scorn sh e h ad m e

I n the ol d time , doubtless vexed her then .

I never shoul d h ave ki sse d h er . S ee ’ What f ool s God s anger makes o f men !

1 3 6 T H E L E P E R

S he might h ave loved me a little too ,

H ad I been humbler fo r her sake . But that new sh ame could m ake love new

— S h e s aw not yet her shame di d make .

I took too much upon my love , H aving fo r such m ean servi ce done b f H er eauty and all the w ays th ereo ,

Her face and all the sweet thereon .

Yea , all this while I tended her , I know th e old love held fast hi s part

Old I know th e scorn waxed h eavier ,

Mixed with sad wonder , in h er heart .

It may be all my love went wrong ’ A scribe s work writ awry and blurred , S crawled after the blind evensong

~ Spoilt music with no perfect word .

But surely I would f ain h ave done

All thing s the best I could . Perchance

f o o f Because I ailed , came sh rt one , ’ S he kept at heart th at other m an s .

I am grown blin d with all these things It m ay be now she h ath in sight S ome better knowledge ; still th ere clings

The old question . Will not God do ri g ht ?

I 3 7 A B A L L A D O F B U R D E N S

o f f . HE burde n air women Vain delight , f- f And love sel sl ain i n some sweet sh ame ul way , An d sorrow ful ol d age that comes by night As a thie f comes th at h as no heart by day f And ch ange th at ﬁnds air cheeks and leaves them grey ,

fo r And weariness that keeps awake h ire , And grief th at s ays wh at pleasure used to s ay ; ’ This is th e end o f every man s desire .

o f . The burden bought kisses This i s sore , A burden without fruit in childbearing ; f Between the night all and the dawn threescore ,

Threescore between the dawn and eve ning .

Th e shuddering in thy lips , the shuddering th I n y sad eyelids tremulous like ﬁre ,

Makes love see m sh ame ful and a wretched thing .

’ This i s the end o f ev e ry m an s desire .

f o . Th e burden sweet speeches Nay , kneel down ,

fo r Cover thy head , and weep ; verily These market- men th at buy thy white and brown

I n th e l ast days Sh all take no thought f o r thee .

1 3 8

A B A L L A D O F B U R D E N S

And th e l ast h our is shod with ﬁre from hell . ’ This is th e end o f every m an s desire .

o f f . The burden our seasons Rain i n spring , White rain and wind among th e tender trees ;

o f re e n A sum mer g sorrows gathering ,

O f Rank autum n i n a mist miseries ,

f s e t With sad ace towards the year , th at sees

o The ch arred ash drop out f the dropping pyre ,

An d winter wan with m any m al adies , ; ’ This i s th e e n d o f every m an s desire .

The burden o f dead faces . Out o f sight

o f o f han ds And out love , beyond the reach ,

o f an d Ch anged i n th e ch anging the d ark light , They walk and weep abou t the barren lands

is Wh ere no seed nor any garner stan ds , f Wh ere i n sh ort breath s th e doubt ul days respire , ’ And time s turn ed gl ass lets through the sighing sands ; ’ This is the end o f every m an s desire .

Th e burden o f much gl adness . Li fe and lust

f o f Forsake thee , and th e ace thy deligh t ; f And under oot th e heavy hour strews dust , And overh ead strange weath ers burn and bite ;

e w as And wh re the red , lo the bloodless white ,

o f And where truth was , the likeness a liar ,

o f And where day was , the likeness th e night ; f ’ Th is is the end o every m an s desire .

1 40 A B A L L A D O F B U R D E N S

’ L ENV OY.

Princes , and ye whom pleasure quickeneth , H eed well this rhyme before your pleasure tire

f ft f . For li e is sweet , but a er li e is death ’ Thi s is th e end o f every m an s desire . R O N D E L

f IS SING her h air I sat against her eet ,

Wove and unwove it , wound and found it sweet ; f Made ast therewith her h ands , drew down h er eyes , Deep as deep ﬂowers and dreamy like dim skies ; f f With her own tresses bound and ound her air ,

Kissing her h air .

f S leep were no sweeter th an her ace to me , Sleep o f cold s e a-bloom u nder th e col d se a ; Wh at pai n could get between my face and h ers ? What new sweet thing woul d love not relish worse ?

Unless , perhaps , white death h ad kissed m e th ere , Kissing h er h air ?

1 4 2

B E F O R E T H E M I R R O R

S oft snows that h ard winds h arden Till e ach fl ake bite Fill all the fl o w e rle ss garden Whose flowers took flight

Long since wh e n summer ceased , f f And men rose up rom e ast ,

And w arm west wind grew e ast , and warm day night .

I “ Come snow , come wi nd or thunder

High up i n air , f I watch my ace , and wonder At my bright h air ; Nought el se exalts or grieves

Th e rose at h eart , th at h eaves

With love o f h er o w n leaves and lips th at pair .

S he knows not loves th at kissed h er

S he knows not where ,

Art thou the ghost , my sister ,

White sister th ere ,

w ho ? Am I th e ghost , knows f My h and , a allen rose ,

- Lies snow white on white snows , and takes no care .

I cannot s e e wh at pleasures Or wh at pains were ; Wh at pal e n e w loves and treasures New years will bear ;

1 44 B E F O R E T H E M I R R O R

f What beam will all , what shower , What grief or joy for dower ;

But one thing knows the ﬂower ; the ﬂower is fair .

Glad , but not ﬂushed with gl adness , S in ce joys go by ;

S ad , but not bent with sadness , Since sorrows die ; Deep in the gleaming glass

S he sees all past things pass , And all sweet life that w as lie down

There glowing ghosts o f ﬂowers

Draw down , draw nigh ; And wing s o f swift spent hours Take ﬂight and ﬂy ; f S he sees by ormless gleams ,

S he hears across cold streams ,

Dead mouths o f m any dreams th at sing and sigh .

f f Face allen an d white throat li ted , With sleepless eye Sh e sees ol d loves that drifted Sh e knew not w hy Old loves and faded fears Float down a stream th at hears ll ’ k The ﬂowing o f a men s tears beneath the s y .

1 45 E RO T I O N

fo r f WEET a little even to ear , and sweet , 0 f ’ f f love , to l ay down ear at love s air eet ; S h all not some ﬁery m emory o f hi s breath Lie sweet o n lips th at touch the lips o f death ? if f Yet leave me not ; yet , thou wilt , be ree ;

of . Love m e no more , but love my love thee f Love where thou wilt , and live thy li e ; and I ,

— O ne thing I c an , and one love cannot die . f Pass rom me ; yet thine arms , thine eyes , thine h air ,

Feed my desire and de aden my despair .

Yet once more ere tim e ch ange u s , ere my cheek

hO e Whiten , ere p be dumb or sorrow speak , f Yet once more ere thou h ate m e , one ull kiss ;

fo r . Keep other hours others , save m e this if it Ye a , and I will not ( please th ee) weep ,

s ad . Lest thou be ; I will but sigh , and sl eep ? Sweet , does death hurt thou canst not do m e wrong

I sh all not l ack th ee , as I loved th ee , long . H ast thou not given me above all that live ? Joy , and a little sorrow sh alt not give Wh at even though fairer ﬁngers o f strange girl s ’ Pass nestling through thy beauti ful boy s curl s

1 46

I N M E M O R Y O F

W A L T E R S A V A G E L A N D O R

- ACK to th e ﬂower town , side by side ,

The bright month s bring ,

- New born , the bridegroom and the bride ,

Free dom and spring .

f se a s e a Th e sweet l and laugh s rom to , Filled full o f sun ; f All things come back to h er , being ree ;

All things but one .

I n m any a tender Wheaten plot Flowers th at were dead

Live , and old suns revive ; but not

Th at holier h ead .

o f By this wh ite w anderin g waste sea ,

Far north , I hear O ne face Sh all never turn to m e As once this year :

1 48 I N M E M O RY O F W A L T E R S AV A G E L A N D O R

Sh all never s mile and turn an d rest

On mine as there , Nor one most sacred h an d be prest

Upon my h air .

f I came as one whose thoughts h al linger , H al f run before ; The youngest to the oldest singer

Th at England bore .

I found him whom I sh all not ﬁn d f Till all grie end ,

I n holiest age our mightiest mind ,

Father and friend .

if But thou , anything endure , If hope there be , 0 ’ f f spirit that m an s li e le t pure , ’ se t f Man s death ree ,

Not with disdai n o f days that were Look earthward now ;

Let dreams revive the reverend hair , The imperi al brow ;

fo r f Come back i n Sleep , i n the li e Where thou art not

We ﬁnd none like thee . Time and stri fe And the world ’s lot

I 49 I N M E M O RY O F W A L T E R S AV A G E L A N D O R

Move th ee no more ; but love at least And reverent heart

May move thee , royal and released ,

S oul , as thou art .

h And t ou , his Florence , to thy trust

Receive an d keep , f Keep sa e h is dedicated dust ,

His sacred sleep . I

f far So sh all thy lovers , com e rom , Mix with thy name As morning-star with evening -star

His f aultless fame .

A S O N G I N T I M E O F O R D E R

They h ave tied the worl d i n a tether , Th ey h ave bought over God with a fe e ;

While three m en hold together ,

The kingdoms are less by three . r w e h ave done with the kisses th at sting , f ’ m f f The thi e s outh red rom the east ,

o f Th e blood on th e h ands the king ,

And the lie at the lips o f the priest .

Will they tie th e winds i n a teth er , Put a bit i n the jaws o f th e se a ?

While th ree men hol d together ,

L Th e kingdoms are less by three .

Let our ﬂag run out straight i n th e wind The old red sh all be ﬂoated again

n When th e ranks th at are thin shall be thin ed , Wh en the n ames th at were twenty are ten ;

When th e devil ’s riddle is m astered

- An d th e galley ben ch creaks with a Pope , We shall se e Buonaparte the bastard

Kick heel s with his throat i n a rope .

While the shepherd sets wolves on his sheep

And the emperor h alters his ki ne , While S h am e is a watchm an asleep

is o f An d Faith a keeper swine ,

1 52 A S O N G I N T I M E O F O R D E R

f Let th e wind shake our ﬂag like a eather , Like the plumes o f the foam o f the sea !

While three men hold together ,

The kingdoms are less by three .

All the worl d has its burdens to bear , From Cayenne to the Austri an whips ;

Forth , with the rain in our h air And the salt sweet foam i n our lips

o f I n the teeth th e h ard gl ad weather , I n the blo w n wet face o f the sea ;

While three men hold together ,

The kingdoms are less by three .

I S3 S I N T M V T 1 8 6 0 A O N G I E O F R E O L U I O N .

o f - H E h eart the rulers is sick , an d the hi gh priest covers his he ad For this i s th e song o f the quick th at i s heard i n the

ears o f the dead .

The poor and th e h alt and th e blind are keen and mighty and ﬂeet : Like th e noise o f the blowing of wind is the sound o f th e n oise o f their feet

The wind h as th e sound o f a laugh in the cl amour o f days and o f deeds ff The priests are scattered like cha , and the rulers

broken like reeds .

- f The high priest sick rom qual ms , with his raiment bloodily dashed ; f Th e thie with branded pal ms , and th e liar with cheeks

abashed .

They are smitten , th ey trembl e greatly , th ey are pained fo r th eir pleasant things :

o f For th e house th e priests m ade stately , an d the migh t

i n the mouth o f th e kings .

1 54

A S O N G I N T I M E O F R E V O L U T I O N

o f But th e arm th e elders i s broken , their strength i s unbou nd and u ndone

fo r o f They wait a sign a token ; they cry , and th ere

cometh none .

o f ﬁlle th Their moan is in every place , the cry them

the lan d

o f f f There i s Sh ame i n th e sight their ace , th ere i s ear

i n the thews o f their h and .

They are girdled about th e reins with a curse fo r th e girdle thereon For th e noise o f th e rending o f ch ain s th e face o f thei r

colour is gone .

For the sound o f the shouting o f men they are grievously stricken at heart

They are smitten asunder with pain , their bones are

smitten apart .

Th ere is none o f them al l th at is wh ole ; their lips gape open fo r breath

o f They are clothed with sickness soul , and th e sh ape

o f the Sh adow O f de ath .

Th e wind is thwart in their feet ; it is full o f th e shouting o f mirth ;

o f so As one sh aketh the sides a Sh eet , i t shaketh th e

ends o f the earth .

1 56 A S O N G I N T I M E O F R E V O L U T I O N

is The sword , th e sword m ade keen ; the iron h as opened its mouth The corn is red th at w as green ; it is bound fo r the

sheaves o f the south .

o f o f The sound a word was sh ed , the sound the wind

as a breath , the o f o f In ears th e souls that were dead , i n the dust the deepness o f death

f o f o f Where the ace the moon is taken , the ways the

stars undone ,

o f sk o f f The light the whole y sh aken , the light the ace o f the sun °

Where the waters are emptied and broken , the waves o f the waters are stayed ; Where God has bound for a token the darkness that maketh afraid ;

Where th e sword was covered an d hidden , and dust

h ad grown in its side , f w as f A word came orth which bidden , the crying o one th at cried

of t wo — The sides the edged sword sh all be bare , and its

mouth sh all be red , For the bre ath o f the face o f th e Lord th at is felt in th e

bones o f the dead .

I S7 T O V I C T O R H U G O

N the fair days when God

By m an as godlike trod , f And each alike was Greek , alike was ree ,

’ God s lightning spared , they said , Alone the h appier head

f t fo r Whose l aurels screened it ; rui less grace thee , To wh om the high gods gave o f right

Their thunders and their laurels an d their light .

Sunbeams and bays before ’ Our m aster s servants wore , ’ For these Apollo left i n all men s lands ; But far from these ere now And watched with j ealous brow ’ Lay the bli nd lightnings shut between God s h ands , An d only loosed on slaves and kin gs

The terror o f th e tempest o f their wings .

Born i n those younger years Th at shone with s to rm s o f spears f ’ And shook in the wind blown rom a dead world s pyre , \Vh en by her back-blown h air Napoleon caught th e fair

f o f And ﬁerce Republic with her eet ﬁre ,

1 58

T O V I C T O R H U G O

w e But we , our m aster , f Whose hearts , upli t to thee ,

o f th Ach e with th e pulse y remembered song , We ask not nor await

o f f From the clenched h ands ate , ’ o f As thou , remission th e world s ol d wrong ;

ask Respite we not , nor release ;

e . Freedom a m an m ay h ave , h e sh all not peac

Though thy most ﬁery hope a S torm he ven , to set wide ope Th e all -sought-fo r gate whence God or Ch ance debars

f o f All eet men , all eyes

Th e old night resu mes h er skies ,

- o f Her h ollow hiding pl ace clouds an d stars , Where nought save these i s sure i n sight ;

f . And , paven with death , our days are roo ed with night

One thing we can ; to be f Awhile , as men m ay , ree But not by h ope or pl easure the most stern f - Goddess , most aw ul eyed ,

Sits , but on either side

o f Sits sorrow and the wrath hearts th at burn , f f S ad aith that cannot h ope or ear ,

And m emory grey with m any a ﬂ o w e rle ss year .

’ No t th at in stranger s wi se I li ft not lovin g eyes

1 6 0 T O V I C T O R H U G O

f f - To the air oster mother France , that gave Beyond the pale ﬂeet foam

H elp to my Sires and home , Whose g reat sweet breast coul d shelter those and save Whom from her nursing breasts and h ands f f Their l and cast orth o old on gentler l an ds .

Not without thoughts th at ache

fo r For theirs and thy sake ,

o f I , born exiles , h ail thy banished head ; I whose youn g song took ﬂight Toward the great heat and light O n me a child from thy f ar splendour shed

o f From thine high pl ace soul and song , f f Which , allen on eyes yet eeble , made them strong .

Ah , not with lessening love f For memories b orn hereo ,

- s e e I look to th at sweet mother l and , and f f The ol d ﬁelds and air ull stre ams ,

And skies , but ﬂed like dreams Th e feet of freedom an d th e thought o f thee ; And all between the skies and graves f The mirth o mockers an d the sh ame o f Slaves .

S he , killed with noisome air ,

she ! f Even and still so air , “ f Who sai d Let there be reedom , and there was Freedom ; and as a lance

1 6 1 T O V I C T O R H U G O

Th e ﬁery eyes o f Fran ce ’ Touch ed th e world s sleep and as a sleep m ade pass

’ Forth o f men s heavier ears and eyes f S mitten with ﬁre and thunder rom new skies .

Are they men ’s friends indeed Who watch th e m weep and bleed ? ? Because thou h ast loved us , sh all th e gods love thee

o f f d Thou , ﬁrst m en and rien ? S eest thou , even thou , th e end

Thou knowest wh at hath been , knowest thou wh at sh all Evils m ay pass and hopes endure ;

f . But ate is dim , and all the gods obscure

O nursed i n airs apart ,

0 o f poet high est heart , w ho ? H ast thou seen time , hast seen so m any things

Are not the years more wise ,

More sad th an keenest eyes , The years with soundless feet and sounding wings ?

Passing we h ear them not , but past

The o f . L cl amour th em thrills us , and thei r blast

f o f Thou art chie us , and lord ; Thy song is as a sword Keen - edged and scented in the bl ade from ﬂowers ; Thou art lord and king ; but w e f Li t younger eyes , and see o f Less high hope , less light on wanderin g hours ;

1 6 2

T O V I C T O R H U G O

" l ’ Yea , h e is strong , thou say st , - f A mystery m any aced , Th e wil d beasts know him and the wild birds

The blin d night sees hi m , death h S hrinks beaten at his breat , And his right h and is he avy on th e se a

We know he h ath made us , and is king ;

We know not if he care fo r anything .

Thu s L mu ch , no more , we know ; SO He bade wh at is be ,

Bade light be and b ade night be , one by one ; f Bade hope and ear , b ade ill

And good redeem and kill , Till all men be aweary o f th e s un An d this world burn i n its own ﬂame

An d bear no witness longer o f his n ame .

Yet though all this be thus , B e those men praise d o f us Who h ave l oved an d wrought and sorrowed and not sinned f f For ame or ear or gol d ,

fo r Nor waxed winter cold , Nor ch anged fo r ch anges o f th e worldly wi nd ;

o f Praised above men men be th ese ,

Till this one world and work w e know sh all cease .

Ye a , one thing m ore than th is ,

We know th at one thi ng is ,

1 6 4 T O V I C T O R H U G O

o f The splendour a spirit without bl ame , Th at not the l abouring years - f Blind born , nor any ears , Nor men nor any gods can tire or tame ; But purer power with ﬁery bre ath

f o f . Fills , and exalts above the gul s death

Praised above men be thou , - d Whose l aurel la en brow ,

fo r Made th e morning , droops not in th e night ,

Praised and beloved , th at none Of all thy great things done ’ Flies higher th an thy most equal Spirit s ﬂight ;

Praised , that nor doubt nor hope could bend ’ f f Earth s lo tiest head , ound upright to th e end .

1 65 B E F O R E D A W N

f if life WEET li e , were stronger , Earth clear o f years th at wrong

Th en two things mi ght live longer , Two sweeter things th an th ey ; I

Delight , th e rootless ﬂower ,

And love , the bloomless bower ;

Delight th at lives an hour ,

And love that lives a day .

From evensong to d ayti me ,

When April m elts i n M ayti me ,

his Love lengthens out pl ayti me ,

Love lessens bre ath by breath , And kiss by kiss grows ol der O n listless throat or shoulder

Turned sideways now , turned col der

Th an li fe that dre ams o f death .

This one thing on ce worth giving f Li e gave , and seemed worth livin g ; Sin sweet beyond forgiving And brie f beyond regret To l augh and love together An d weave with foam and f eather

1 66

B E F O R E D A W N

But love so lightly plighted ,

Our love with torch unlighted , ff Paused near us un a righted , Who found and le ft hi m free ;

None , seeing us cloven i n su nder , Will weep or l augh or wonder ;

o f Light love stands clear thunder ,

And safe f rom win ds at sea .

a As , wh en l ate l arks give w rning O f dying lights and dawning ,

Night murmurs to the mornin g , 0 Lie still , love , lie still ; And h al f h er dark limbs cover

o f The white li mbs her lover , With amorous plumes th at hover V And fervent lips th at chill

As scorn ful day represses h’ Nig t s void and v ain caresses , And from her cloudier tresses

o f Unwinds the gold his , With limbs from limbs dividing And breath by breath subsiding ;

For love has no abiding , But dies be fore th e kiss ;

S o h ath it been , so be it ; For w ho sh all live and ﬂee it ?

1 6 8 B E F O R E D A WN

But look th at no m an see it O r hear it unaware; Lest all w ho love and choose him f S ee Love , and so re use him ;

For all who ﬁnd him lose him ,

But all h ave found him fair .

1 6 9 D O L O R E S

( NOTRE -DAME D E S SEPT DOU L EURS )

OLD eyelids th at hide like a j ewel H ard eyes th at grow soft fo r an hour ;

The heavy white limbs , and the cruel Red mouth like a venomous ﬂower ;

Wh en these are gone by with their glories ,

o f Wh at sh all rest thee then , wh at remain ,

O mysti c and sombre Dolores , Our Lady o f Pai n ?

S even sorrows th e pri ests give their Virgin ;

But thy sins , which are seventy times seven , f S even ages woul d ail thee to purge i n , And th en they would h aunt thee i n h eaven f Fierce midnights and amishing morrows , An d th e loves th at complete and control

o f All th e joys th e ﬂesh , all the sorrows

Th at wear out the soul .

( 0 garment not golden but gilded , 0 garden wh ere all m en m ay dwell ,

o f O tower not ivory , but builded By h ands th at reach he aven from hell ;

1 7 o

D O L O R E S

\Vhat milk fe d thee ﬁrst at wh at bosom ? What sins gave thee suck ?

rWe f shi t and bedeck and bedrape u s , Th ou art noble and nude and antique ;

Libitin a thy mother , Pri apus

f . Thy ath er , a Tuscan and Greek

We pl ay with light loves i n the portal , An d wince an d relent and refrain ; o Loves die , and we know thee i mm rtal , f g Our Lady o Pain .

Fruits fail and love dies and time r anges Thou art fe d with perpetual bre ath f An d alive a ter inﬁnite ch anges , And fresh from the kisses o f death

O f lan uo rs g rekindled and rallied ,

O f b ai i e n delights and unclean , f Things monstrou s and ruitless , a pallid

An d poisonous queen .

Coul d you hurt me , sweet lips , though I hurt

n Men tou ch them , an d ch a ge i n a trice f (j Th e lilies and l anguors o Virtue For the raptures and roses o f vice ; f Th ose lie where thy oot on the ﬂoor is ,

Th ese crown and caress thee and ch ain , 0 X spl endid and sterile Dolores , f Our Lady o Pain .

1 7 2 D O L O R E S

There are sins it m ay be to discover ,

There are deeds it m ay be to delight . for Wh at new work wilt thou ﬁnd thy lover , Wh at new passions fo r daytime or night ? Wh at spells th at they know not a word o f Whose lives are as leaves overblown ?

o f of Wh at tortures undreamt , unheard , ? Unwritten , u nknown

Ah beautiful passionate body Th at never h as ached with a heart !

O n thy mouth though the kisses are bloody ,

Though th ey sting till it Shudder and smart , w e More kind than the love adore is ,

They hurt not the heart or the brain , 0 bitter and tender Dolores ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

As our kisses rel ax an d redouble , From the lips and the foam and th e fangs ’ fo r S h all no new Si n be born men s trouble , NO dream o f im po ssib le pangs ? With the sweet o f the sins o f old ages Wilt thou satiate thy soul as o f v ore ?

is Too sweet th e rind , say the sages ,

Too bitter the core .

H ast thou told all thy secrets the l ast ti me , An d b ared all thy beauties to one ?

I 7 3 D O L O R E S

f o r Ah , wh ere sh all we go th en pastime , If the worst th at can be h as bee n done ? But sweet as th e rind was the core i s ; f o f f We are ain thee still , we are ain ,

O sanguine and subtle Dolores ,

Our Lady of Pain .

' I o f By the h unger ch ange an d emotion ,

o f By th e thirst unbearable things , - o f By despair , th e twin born devotion ,

By th e pleasure th at winces and stings ,

The delight that consumes th e desire ,

The desire that outruns th e delight , By th e cruelty de af as a ﬁre as And blind th e night ,

By th e ravenous teeth th at h ave smitte n Through the ki sses th at blossom and bud By the lips intertwisted and bitten Till the foam has a savour o f blood f By the pulse as it rises and alters ,

By th e hands as they Sl acken and strain , f I adjure th ee , respon d rom thine altars ,

L Our Lady o f Pai n .

Wilt th ou smil e as a woman disdaining The light ﬁre i n the veins o f a boy ?

s ad f But h e comes to thee , without eigning , Who has wearie d o f sorrow and joy ;

1 74

D O L O R E S

O my sister , my spouse , an d my mother ,

o f . L__ Our Lady Pain

For th e crown o f our li fe as it closes f f Is darkness , th e ruit thereo dust ; ’ NO thorns go as deep as a rose s ,

And love is more cruel th an lust .

Time turns the ol d days to derision , Our loves into corpses or wives ; n d m arriage and death an d division

Make b arren our l ives .

An d pal e from the past w e draw nigh th ee And satiate with comf ortless hours ;

w e And know thee , how all m en belie thee , A n d w e gather th e fruit o f thy ﬂowers ;

Th e passion th at sl ays and recovers , The pangs and the kisses th at rai n

o f On th e lips and the limbs thy lovers ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

The desire o f thy f urious embraces

IS o f more than th e wisdom years , t On th e blossom th ough blood lie i n races ,

Though th e foliage be sodden with tears . For th e lords i n whose keeping the door i s Th at opens on all w ho draw breath

Gave the cypress to love , my Dolores ,

Th e myrtle to death .

1 7 6 D O L O R E S

And th ey laughed , ch anging h ands in the measure , And they mixed and m ade peace after stri fe ;

Pain melted in tears , and was pleasure ;

f . Death tingled with blood , and was li e

Like lovers they melted an d tingled , I n th e dusk o f thine i nnermost fane ;

I n th e darkness they murmured and mingled ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

In a twilight where virtues are vices , o f sun I n thy ch apels , unknown the , To a tune th at enthralls and entices

tw . They were wed , and the ain were as one For the tune from thine altar h ath sounded ’ Since God bade th e worl d s work begin , f o f And the ume thine incense abounded ,

To sweeten the sin .

Love listens , and paler th an ashes ,

’ Thro u hhis g curls as the crown on them slips ,

f a n d Li ts l anguid wet eyelids lashes ,

And l augh s with ins atiable lips . if

Thou Shalt hush him with h eavy caresses , With music th at scares the profane ;

Thou sh alt darken his eyes with thy tresses , f Our Lady o Pain .

his Thou sh alt blin d bright eyes though he wrestle , Thou shalt chain his light limbs though he strive

I 7 7 D O L O R E S

I n hi s lips all thy serpents sh all nestl e ,

I n hi s hands all thy cruelties th rive . h I n the daytime thy voice sh all go throug him , I n his dreams h e shall feel thee and ach e Thou sh alt kindle by night an d subdue hi m

Asleep and awake .

Thou sh al t touch an d m ake redder hi s roses With juice not o f f ruit nor of bud ;

’ When the sense i n th e spirit re poses ,

Thou sh alt quicken th e soul through the blood .

Thin e , thine th e one grace we implore is , f Who woul d live and not l anguish or eign ,

O sleepless an d deadly Dolores ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

o f Dost thou dream , i n a respite slu mber ,

o f o f f I n a lull th e ﬁres thy li e , f O th e days without name , without number , f When thy will stung the world into stri e ,

o f When , a goddess , the pulse thy passion S mote kings as they revelled i n Rome

re - And they h ailed th ee risen , O Th al assian , - f f ? Foam wh ite , rom th e oam

When thy lips h ad such lovers to ﬂ atter , f When th e city l ay red rom thy rods , And thine h ands were as arrows to scatter V The children o f ch ange and their gods ;

1 7 8

D O L O R E S

And mixed with th e lightning o f sl aughter .

A thunder o f lyres .

h o f is Dost t ou dream wh at was and no more , Th e ol d kingdoms o f e arth and the kings ?

for Dost thou hu nger th ese things , Dolores , o f ? For th ese , i n a world new things f But thy bosom no asts coul d em aciate , No hunger compel to compl ain

Those lips that no bloodshed coul d sati ate ,

Our L ady o f Pain .

’ A s o f Old w as wh en th e worl d s heart lighter ,

o f Through thy garments the grace th ee glows , The white wealth o f thy body m ade whiter

o f By th e blushes amorous blows ,

And seamed with sh arp lips and ﬁerce ﬁngers , V And branded by ki sses th at bruise ;

When all sh all be gone th at now lingers , V ? Ah , wh at sh all we lose

f f O ld f Thou wert ai r i n the earl ess ashion ,

An d thy limbs are as m elodies yet , An d move to th e musi c o f passion

With lithe and l ascivious regret . a 0 Wh t ailed us , gods , to desert you For creeds th at re fuse and restrain ? f Com e down an d redeem u s rom virtue ,

Our Lady O f Pai n .

1 8 0 D O L O R E S

All shrines th at were Vestal are ﬂ am e le ss But the ﬂame h as not fallen f rom this ;

Though obscure be the god , and though nameless The eyes and th e h air th at w e kiss ; Low ﬁres that love sits by and forges Fresh heads fo r his arrows and thine ; H air loosened and soiled i n mi d orgies

With kisses and wine .

Thy skin changes country and colour , ’ And shrivel s or swells to a snake s .

Let it brighten and bloat and grow duller ,

We know it , the ﬂam es an d the ﬂakes ,

Red brands on it smitten and bitten ,

is Round skies where a star a stain ,

And th e leaves with thy litanies written ,

Our Lady O f Pai n .

On thy bosom though m any a kiss be ,

There are none such as knew it o f ol d . Was it Alc iphro n once or Arisbe Male ringlets or feminine gol d th That y lips met with u nder th e statue , Whence a look shot out sh arp after thieves From the eyes o f the garde n -god at you Across the ﬁg-leaves ?

Then still , th rough dry seasons and moister , One god h ad a wreath to his shrine ;

1 8 1 D O L O R E S

! o f Th en love was the pearl his oyster , f And Venus rose red out O wine .

We h ave all done amiss , choosing rather Such loves as the wise gods disdain ;

f o r f I ntercede us thou with thy ath er ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

t is I n spring h e h ad crowns garden ,

Of Red corn i n the heat the ye ar , Then hoary green olives th at h arden When th e grape -blossom freezes with fear ; And milk-budded myrtl es with Venus An d vine -l eaves with Ba cchu s h e trod ; “ And ye said , We h ave seen , he h ath seen us , ” A visible God .

Wh at broke o ff th e garlands th at girt you ? What sundered you spirit and cl ay ? We ak sins yet alive are as virtue f f To th e strength o th e sins o th at day . o f For dried i s the blood thy lover ,

I sithilla p , contracted th e vei n ;

Cry aloud , Will he rise and recover , ” Our Lady o f Pain ?

“ Na m te p rae c ip ue in s u i s u rb ib us c o lit o ra ”

l le lle s o n tia c ac te ris o s tre o s io r o r s . p , i

a . . C A T U LL . C rm x v iii

1 8 2

D O L O R E S

f o f f f Th e air li mbs th e Loves , the air aces

Of gods th at were goodly and gl ad .

S h e sl ays , and her h ands are not bloody ;

S he moves as a moon in the wane ,

\Vhite - is robed , and thy rai ment ruddy , f Our Lady o Pain .

and They sh all pass their pl aces be taken ,

The gods and the priests th at are pure .

ri ? They sh all pass , an d sh alt thou ot be sh aken ? They sh all perish , and sh alt thou endure

De ath laughs , breathing close and relentless

o f I n th e nostrils and eyelids lust , With a pinch i n his ﬁngers o f scentless

An d deli cate dust . y But th e worm sh all revive thee with kisses , Thou shalt change and transmute as a god ,

As th e rod to a serpent th at hisses ,

As the serpent again to a rod . Thy life sh all not ce ase though thou doff it ;

Thou sh alt live u ntil evil be Slain ,

And good Sh all die ﬁrst , said thy prophet ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

? ? o Did h e lie did h e laugh does h e kn w it ,

o f o f Now he lies out reach , out bre ath ,

Thy prophet , thy pre acher , thy poet , S in ’s child by incestuous Death ?

1 84 D O L O R E S

Did he ﬁnd out in ﬁre at his waking ,

Or discern as his eyelids lost light , When the bands o f the body were breaki ng And all came i n sight ?

f Who h as known all the evil be ore us , Or th e tyrannous secrets o f time ? Though w e m atch not the dead men that bore a At song , at a kiss , at a crime f Though the heathen out ace and outlive us , And our lives and our longin g s are twain f f Ah , orgive u s our virtues , orgive us ,

Our Lady of Pain .

Who are we th at embal m and embrace th ee With spices and savours o f song ?

is his f ? Wh at time , th at children should ace thee ? Wh at am I , th at my lips do thee wrong I could hurt thee — but pain would delight thee ; Or caress thee — but love would repel And the lovers whose lips would excite thee

Are serpents in h ell .

' as Who now Sh all content thee they did ,

Thy lovers , when temples were built And th e hair o f the sacriﬁce braided

o f And the blood the sacriﬁce Spilt , f f I n Lampsacus ervent with aces , f I n Aph aca red rom thy reign ,

1 8 5 D O L O R E S

f Who embraced th ee with aw ul e mbraces , Our Lady o f Pain ?

C o t tto Where are they , y or Venus , ? Astarte or Ashtaroth , where Do their h ands as w e tou ch come between u s ? I s th e bre ath o f them h ot in thy h air ? f From their lips h ave thy lips taken ever , With th e blood o f their bodies grown red ? H ast thou l eft upon e arth a believer If these men are dead ?

o f d They were purple rai m ent and gol en , f o f h Filled ull th ee , ﬁery wit wine ,

Thy lovers , i n h aunts unbeholden ,

I n m arvellous chambers o f thine . f They are ﬂed , and their ootprints escape

Wh o appraise th ee , adore , and abstain , o f O daughter De ath and Pri apus ,

Our Lady o f Pain .

f Wh at ail s u s to ear overm easure ,

To praise thee with timorous breath , o f O mistress and mother pl easure , The one thing as certain as death ?

We sh all ch ange as the things that we cherish , f f f S h all ade as they aded be ore , f As oam upon water Sh al l perish ,

As sand upon shore .

1 8 6

T H E G A R D E N O F P R O S E R P I N E

ERE , where th e world i s quiet ,

H ere , where all trouble seems Dead winds ’ an d spent w aves ’ riot I n doubtful dream s o f dre ams ; I watch the green ﬁel d growing f For reaping olk and sowing ,

- For h arvest tim e and mowing ,

A sl eepy worl d o f stream s .

r I o f am tired tears and laughter , An d men th at l augh an d weep O f wh at m ay come h erea fter For men that so w to reap

o f I am weary days and hours ,

Of Blown buds barren ﬂowers , Desires and dre ams and powers

L. An d everything but sleep

H ere li fe has death fo r neighbour An d f ar from eye or ear

Wan w aves and wet winds l abou r , Weak Ships and spirits steer ; f They drive adri t , and whither They wot not w ho m ake thither ;

1 8 8 T H E G A R D E N O F P R O S E R P I N E

But no such winds blow hither ,

And no such thi ngs grow here .

No growth o f moor or c o ppic e ﬁ

-ﬂo w e r No heather or vin e , of But bloomless buds poppies ,

o f Green grapes Proserpine , Pale beds o f blowing rushes Where no leaf blooms or blushes S ave thi s whereout she crushes

For dead men deadly wine .

Pale , without n ame or number ,

f o f I n ruitless ﬁelds corn , They b o w th emselves and slumber All night till light is born ;

An d like a soul bel ated ,

I n hell and heaven u nm ated , By cloud and mist abated

Comes out o f darkness morn . J

as Though one were strong seven , h H e too with deat shall dwell ,

Nor w ake with wings in heaven , Nor weep fo r pains i n hell ; f Though one were air as roses , His beauty clouds and closes ;

An d well though love reposes ,

I n the end it is not well .

1 8 9 T H E G A R D E N O F P R O S E R P I N E

' an d o rtal Pal e , beyond porch p ,

Crowned with cal m le aves , sh e stands Wh o gath ers all things mortal With cold im mortal h an ds

‘ He r lan guid lips are sweeter Than love ’s who fears to greet her To men that mi x an d meet her

From m any times and l ands .

fo r r S he waits e ach and othe , She waits fo r all m en born ;

Forgets the earth her mother , The li fe o f fruits an d corn ; And spring an d seed and swallow Take wing fo r her and follow Where su mmer song rings hollow

And ﬂowers are put to scorn .

e There go the l ves that wither , The ol d loves with wearier win gs ;

An d all dead years draw thither , An d all disastrous thi ngs;

o f f De ad dream s days orsaken ,

Blind bu ds that snows h ave shaken ,

Wild leaves that winds h ave taken ,

Red strays o f ruined springs .

o f We are not s ure sorrow , And joy w as never sure ;

I 9 O

H E S P E R I A

r UT o f the golden remote wil d west where the se a

without shore is ,

o f s ad if f Ful l the sunset , and , at all , with the ul ness

o f joy , As a wind sets i n with the autumn that blows from the

o f region stories , Blows with a perfu me O f songs and o f memories f m beloved ro a boy , Blows from the capes o f the past overse a to th e bays o f

th e present , Filled as with sh adow o f sound with th e pulse o f f i nvisible eet ,

o f f Far out to th e sh allows and straits the uture , by

rough ways or pl easant , ’ IS ? it thither th e Wind s wings beat is it hither to m e , O my sweet ?

o f - For thee , i n the stre am the deep tide wind blowing

i n with the water , Thee I behol d as a bird borne i n with the wind from

th e west , f S traight rom th e sunset , across white w aves wh ence rose as a daughter

w as Venus thy mother , i n years when the worl d a

water at rest .

1 9 2 H E S P E R I A

o f o f Out th e distance dreams , as a dre am th at abides f a ter slumber ,

f f o f the Strayed rom the ugitive ﬂock night , when the moon overhead

o f Wanes in the wan waste heights the heaven , and stars without number

Die without sound , and are spent like l amps that are

burnt by the dead ,

of Comes back to me , stays by m e , lull s me with touch f orgotten caresses , One warm dream cl ad about with a ﬁre as of lif e that endures ;

o f f o f f The delight thy ace , and the sound thy eet , and

o f the wind thy tresses ,

o f of And all a m an that regrets , and all a m aid that

allures . But thy bosom is warm f o r my f ace an d prof ound as a f mani ol d ﬂower , m Thy silence as usic , thy voice as a n odour that f ades in a ﬂame ; A

' o f an d l Not a dream , not a dream i s the kiss thy mouth , the bountiful hour f That m akes me orget what was Sin , and would m ake

m e forget were it sham e . J i Th ne eyes that are quiet , thine hands that are tender ,

thy lips that are loving , Comf ort and cool me as dew in the dawn o f a moon like a dream ; H E S P E R I A

b aﬂle d And my heart yearns and blind , moved vainly

toward thee , and moving As the re ﬂue n t seaweed moves i n the l anguid

exuberant stream , r F ir a as a rose is on e arth , as a rose under water in

prison , That stretches a nd swings to the Slow p assionate

o f pulse the sea ,

f s un b ut as Closed up rom the air and the , alive , a

L ghost rearisen , Pal e as the love that revives as a ghost re arisen

. L. i n me f f From the bounti ul inﬁnite west , rom the happy memorial pl aces Full o f the stately repose and the lordly delight o f the dead Where the fortun ate isl ands are lit with the light o f ff f i ne able aces ,

o f An d the sound a se a without wind is about the m ,

an d is sunset red , Come back to redeem and release m e from love that

recalls and represses ,

as That cleaves to my flesh a fl ame , til l the serpent has eaten his fill ;

o f f From the bitter delights the dark , and the everish , the furtive caresses That murder the youth i n a m an or ever his heart

h ave its will .

H E S P E R I A

Was it myrtle or poppy thy garl and was woven with , O my Dolores ?

o f o f Was it pallor slumber , or blush as blood , th at I f f ? L ound in thee air res i te f For desire i s ar p rom Q 9, and the ﬂesh not the heart is her fuel ;

w ho S he was sweet to m e once , , am ﬂed and escaped f rom the rage o f her reign ;

as o f Who behol d ol d time at hand as I turn , with her

mouth growing cruel ,

o f And ﬂushed as with wine with the blood her lovers ,

L Our L ady o f Pain . Low down where the thicket is thicker with thorns than

with le aves i n the sum mer , I n the brake is a gleaming o f eyes and a hissing o f tongues that I knew ; And the lithe long throats o f her sn akes reach round

her , their mouths overcom e her , f An d her lips grow cool with their oam , m ade moist

as a desert with dew . With the thirst and the hunger o f lust though her

fu so be auti l lips be bitter , With the cold foul foam o f the snakes they soften and redden an d smile ;

w ax An d her ﬁerce mouth sweetens , her eyes wide and

her eyel ashes glitter ,

o f f An d she l aughs with a s avour blood i n her ace ,

and a savou r o f guile .

I H E S P E R I A

S he l aughs , and her h ands re ach hither , her h air blows

hither an d hisses ,

- - As a low lit ﬂame i n a wind , b ack blown till it shudder and leap ;

he r Let her lips not again l ay hol d on my soul , nor j

poisonous kisses , f To consume it alive and divide rom thy bosom , O ur

Lady o f Sleep . J o f if Ah daughter sunset and slumber , now it return

into prison , ? if Who shall redeem it anew but we , thou wilt , let u s ﬂy ;

Let us take to us , now that the white skies thrill with a

n moon u arisen ,

f o f f o f Swi t horses e ar or love , take ﬂight an d depart

and not die . f They are swi ter than dreams , they are stronger than

is death ; there none that hath ridden , None that shall ride in the di m strange w ays o f his li fe as we ride ;

o f o f By the meadows memory , the highl ands hope , and

is the shore that hidden , I f a Where li e breaks loud and unseen , sonorous invisible tide

By the sands where Sorrow has trodden , the salt pools

bitter and sterile , By the thunderin g reef and the low sea-wall and the

o f channel years ,

I 97 H E S P E R I A ri O u r wild steeds press on the night , strain hard through

pleasure and peril , Labour and listen and pant not or pause fo r the peril that nears ; And the sound o f them trampling the way cleaves night

as an arrow asunder , An d slow by the s and -hill and swi ft by the down with

o f its glimpses grass , f Sudden and steady the musi c , as eight hoo s trampl e

and thunder , Rings in the e ar o f the low bli nd wi nd o f the night as we pass ; S hrill shrieks i n our faces the blind b lan d air that was

mute as a m aiden ,

o f S tung into storm by the speed our passage , and dea f where w e past ;

And our spirits too burn as we bound , thine holy but

- mi ne he avy laden ,

w e o f As burn with the ﬁre our ﬂight ; ah , love , shall w e w in at the l ast ?

1 98

L O V E A T S E A

w e ? Where shall l and you , sweet ’ o f f O n ﬁelds strange men s eet , Or ﬁelds near home ?

fi re -fl e rs O r wh ere th e o w blow , O r where th e flowers o f snow O r flowers o f foam ? We are i n love ’s h an d

Land me , she says , where love f S hows but one sh a t , one dove ,

One h eart , one h and .

A shore like th at , my dear ,

Lies where no m an will steer ,

No m aiden land .

I m ita te d f ro m G a utie r .

2 00 A P R I L

FROM THE FRENC H OF THE V IDAME DE C HARTRES

1 2

HEN the ﬁelds catch ﬂower

And the underwood is green , And from bower unto bower o f The songs the birds begin ,

I sing with sighing between .

When I l augh and sing , I am heavy at heart fo r my Si n ; I am s ad in the spring

For my love that I sh all not win ,

For a foolish thing .

o f Thi s proﬁt I h ave my woe ,

Th at I know , as I sing , I know he will needs h ave it so

Who is master and king ,

Who is lord of the Spirit o f spring . I will serve her and will not spare Till her pity awake

is f Who good , who is pure , who i s air ,

2 0 1 A P R I L

Even her for whose sake ’ Love h ath ta en m e an d slain u naware .

0 O my lord , Love , I h ave l ai d my li fe at thy feet ; f H ave thy will th ereo ,

as Do it ple ase thee with it ,

For wh at Sh all please thee is sweet . I a m come unto thee 0 To do thee service , Love ; Yet cannot I se e f Thou wilt take any pity thereo ,

Any mercy on m e .

But the grace I h ave long ti me sough t

Comes never in sight , If in her it abideth not ,

Through thy mercy and might , ’ Whose heart i s the worl d s delight . f Thou h ast sworn without ail I sh all die , For my heart is set h O n wh at urts m e , I wot not why , But cannot forget

fo r . Wh at I love , wh at I sing and sigh

o f Sh e i s worthy praise , For this grie f o f her giving i s worth All the joy o f my days

2 0 2

B E F O R E P A R T I N G

MONT H or twain to live on honeycomb

o f Is pleasant ; but one tires scented time , o f Cold sweet recurrence accepted rhyme , And th at strong purple under juice an d foam ’ Where th e wine s he art h as burst ;

Nor feel the l atter kisses like the ﬁrst .

On ce yet , this poor on e time ; I will not pray

o f it Even to ch ange the bitterness ,

Th e bitter taste ensuing on th e sweet , To m ake your tears fall where your soft h air l ay All blurred and h e avy i n some perfumed wise

Over my face and eyes .

And y e t who knows wh at en d th e scythed wheat ’ Makes o f its foolish poppies mouths o f red ?

These were not sown , these are not h arvested , They grow a month and are cast under feet f And none h as care thereo ,

As none has care o f a divided love .

I" o f I know e ach sh adow you r lips by rote , Each ch ange o f love i n eyelids and eyebrows ;

2 04 B E F O R E P A R T I N G

The fashion o f fair templ es tremulous

o f With tender blood , and colour your throat ; o f I know not how love is gone out this ,

S eeing that all w as hi s .

Love ’s likeness there endures upon all these

But out o f these one sh all not gather love . Day h ath not strength nor the night sh ade enough

his To make love whole and ﬁll lips with ease , As some bee -builded cell

Feels at ﬁlled lips th e h eavy honey swell .

I know not how this l ast month leaves your h air

f o f Less ull purple colour and hid spice , An d th at luxurious trouble of closed eyes Is mixed with meaner shadow and waste care ;

And love , kissed out by pleasure , seems not yet

Worth patience to regret .

2 0 5 T H E S U N D E W

- LITTLE m arsh pl ant , yellow green ,

An d pricked at lip with ten der red .

Tread close , and either w ay you tread S ome faint bl ack water jets between

Lest you should bruise th e curious h ead .

A live thing m ay be ; who shall know ? The sum mer knows an d su ff ers it ; For the cool moss is thi ck an d sweet

so Each side , and saves th e blossom

Th at it lives out the long Ju ne he at .

The deep scent o f the h eath er burns

About it ; breathless though it be , Bow down and worship ; more than we f I s the le ast ﬂower whose li e returns ,

east weed renascent in the sea .

We are vexed and cumbered in e arth ’s Sight

With wants , with m any memories ;

she is Th ese see th eir mother wh at ,

- Glad growing , till August leave more bright

— Th e apple coloured cranberries .

2 0 6

F EL I S E

' ’ ﬁl m s 01) 5 071 ! les n e zigre s d a n ta n P

HAT sh all be said between us h ere

Among the downs , between th e trees , f In ﬁelds th at knew our eet l ast year ,

o f I n sight quiet sands and seas , ’ ? This year , Felise

Who knows wh at word were best to s ay ? For last year ’s leaves lie dead and red

On this sweet day , i n this green M ay ,

And barren corn m akes bitter bread . Wh at sh all be sai d ?

H ere as l ast year the fields begin , A fire o f flowers and glowin g grass ;

The ol d ﬁelds we l au gh ed and lingered i n , ’ S eeing each our souls i n l ast year s gl ass , ! Felise , al as

n o t S hall we not laugh , shall we weep ,

w e is ? Not , though this be as it For love awake or love asleep

Ends i n a laugh , a dream , a kiss ,

A song like this .

2 0 8 F E L I S E

o u I th at h ave slept awake , and y

Sleep , who last year were well awake .

Though love do all that love can do , My heart will never ache or break ’ For your heart s sake .

f The great sea , aultless as a ﬂower ,

Throbs , trembling under beam and breeze ,

And l aughs with love o f th e amorous hour . f f I ound you airer once , Felise ,

Than ﬂowers or seas .

We played at bondsman an d at queen ; But as the days ch ange men change too ; ’ o f I ﬁnd th e grey sea s notes green , ’ s f o f The green ea s ervent ﬂakes blue ,

More fair th an you .

Your beauty is not over fair

w ho Now i n mine eyes , am grown Th e smell o f ﬂowers i n all your h air Allures not now ; no Sigh repli es

If your heart sighs .

But you sigh seldom , you sleep sound , ’ You ﬁnd love s new n ame good enough . Less sweet I ﬁnd it than I found The sweetest name that ever love

Grew weary o f .

2 09 F E L I S E

My snake with bright bl an d eyes , my snake

Grown tame and glad to be caressed , With lips athirst fo r mine to Slake Their tender fever ! w ho h ad gu essed You loved m e best ?

f o r I h ad died thi s l ast year , to know ? You loved me . Who Sh all turn o n fate I care not if lo v e com e o r go

in fo r . Now , though your l ove seek ine m ate

I t is too l ate .

The dust o f m any strange desires Lies deep between u s ; i n our eyes Dead smoke o f perish abl e ﬁres f Fli ckers , a ume i n air and skies ,

A steam o f sighs .

You l oved m e and you loved m e not ;

A little , mu ch , and overmuch . Will you forget as I forgot ? Let all dead things lie dead ; none

Are soft to touch .

l I ove you an d I do not love ,

n o t Too much , a littl e , at all ;

Too much , and never yet enough . Birds quick to ﬂ e dg e and ﬂy at call

Are quick to fall .

2 I 0

F E L I S E

And all these only like your name , f f An d your name ull o all o f th ese .

sa I y it , and it sounds the s ame

S ave th at I s ay it now at ease ,

Your n ame , Felise .

“ she f I said must be swi t and white , f An d subtly warm , and h al perverse ,

n d f f sweet like sh arp so t ruit to bite , ’ lithe ’an And like a snake s love d ﬁerce .

Men h ave guessed worse .

Wh at was th e song I m ade o f you H ere where the grass forgets our f eet As afternoon forgets the dew ?

Ah th at such sweet things shoul d be ﬂeet , S uch ﬂeet things sweet !

A S f f a ternoon orgets the dew ,

As f time in time orgets all men , f tw o As our old pl ace orgets u s , Who migh t h ave turned to o n e thing

But not again .

0 lips th at mine h ave grown into ’ Like April s kissing May , 0 fervent eyelids letting through Those eyes the greenest o f things

o f The bluest things grey ,

2 1 2 F E L I S E

If you were I and I were you ? How coul d I love you , say

ro se le af How could the love the rue ,

T he f day love night all and h er dew , Though night m ay love th e day ?

You loved it m ay be more th an I ;

k n is We ow not ; love h ard to seize , An d all things are not good to try ; And lifelong loves the worst o f these

For u s , Felise .

Ah , take the season and h ave done , Love well the hour and let it go :

Two souls m ay Sleep and wake up one ,

Or dream they wake and ﬁnd it so ,

— And th en you know .

Kiss me once h ard as though a ﬂam e Lay on my lips and m ade them ﬁre ;

The sam e lips now , and not the same ; Wh at breath sh all ﬁll and re -inspire A dead desire ?

The old song sounds hollower in mine ear ’ Th an thi n keen sounds o f dead men s speech A noise one hears and woul d not hear ;

Too strong to di e , too weak to re ach

From w ave to beach .

2 1 3 F E L I S E

se a We stand on either side th e , w Stretch h ands , blo kisses , l augh an d

I toward you , you toward m e ; But wh at h ears eith er save the kee n Grey se a between ?

f A year divides us , love rom love ,

Though you love n ow , though I loved then . f The gul is strait , but deep enough ; n Who sh all recross , who a mo g men S h all cross agai n ?

Love was a jest l ast year , you said ,

And wh at lives surely , surely dies .

so Even ; but now th at love i s dead , f S h all love rekindle rom wet eyes , From subtle sighs ?

For m any loves are good to see ;

Mutable loves , and loves perverse ;

But there is nothing , nor sh all be ,

S O sweet , so wicked , but my verse

Can dream o f worse .

For we th at sin g an d you th at love

Know th at which m an may , only we .

The rest live under us ; above ,

Live the great gods i n heaven , and see

Wh at things sh all be .

2 1 4

F E L I S E

For none sh all move the most high gods ,

s ad Who are most , being cruel ; none S hall b reak or take away th e rods

VVhe re w ith as they scourge u s , not one

Th at smites a son .

By m any a name o f many a creed

We h ave calle d upon them , since ’ - Fell through time s h our gl ass ﬁrst , O f life ; and out o f m any l ands

H ave we stretch ed h ands .

? Wh en h ave th ey heard u s w ho h ath known f f Their aces , climbed unto their eet , f ? Felt them and ound the m Laugh or groan , Doth h eaven remurmur and repeat S ad Sou nds or sweet ?

Do th e stars answer ? i n th e night H ave ye found com fort ? or by day ? H ave ye seen gods Wh at h ope , what Falls from the farth est starriest w ay O n you th at pray ?

Are the skies wet because we weep , Or fair because o f any mirth ? Cry o ut ; they are gods ; perch ance they sleep ;

Cry ; thou sh al t know wh at prayers are worth ,

Thou dust and e arth .

2 1 6 F E L I S E

f 0 O earth , thou art air ; dust , thou art 0 l aughing lips and lips that mourn , f Pray , till ye eel the exceeding weight O f ’ God s i ntolerable scorn ,

Not to be borne .

f Behold , there i s no grie like this ;

o f The barren blossom thy prayer ,

Thou sh alt ﬁnd out how sweet it is . f O ools and blind , wh at seek ye there , High up in the air ?

f o f Ye must h ave gods , th e riends men , f Merci ul gods , compassionate ,

And these shall answer you again .

Will ye beat always at the gate , Ye fools o f fate ?

f fo r Ye ools and blind ; this is sure ,

Th at all ye shall not live , but die .

LO f ? , wh at thi ng h ave ye ound endure Or what thing h ave ye fou nd on high Past the blind sky ?

o f The ghosts words and dusty dreams ,

f . Old memories , aiths inﬁrm and dead Ye fools ; fo r which among you deems it His prayer can alter green to red O r stones to bread ?

2 1 7 ’ F E L I S E

Why shoul d ye bear with hopes and fears

Till all these things be drawn in one ,

o f - f The sound iron ooted years , And all the Oppression th at is done Under the sun ?

Ye might en d surely , surely pass O ut o f the multitude o f things

Under the dust , beneath the grass ,

n o ' tho u ht Deep i n dim death , where g

No record clings .

o f No m emory more love or h ate ,

No trouble , nothing th at aspires , f No sleepless labour thwarting ate ,

And thwarted ; where no tr avail tires ,

Where no faith ﬁres .

All passes , nought th at h as been is ,

Things good an d evil have one end . Can anything be otherwise Though al l men swear all things woul d mend With God to friend ?

o ff Can ye beat one w ave with prayer , Can ye move mountains ? bid th e ﬂower Take ﬂight and turn to a bird i n the air ? Can ye hold f ast fo r shine or shower One Wingless h our ?

A N I N T E R L U D E

f N th e greenest growth o th e Maytime ,

w e t I rode where th e woods were , V Between th e d awn and the daytime ;

The sprin g was gl ad th at we jn e t .

w as Th ere something th e season wanted , Though the w ays and the woods smelt sweet ;

The breath at your lips th at panted ,

The pulse o f the grass at your feet .

f You cam e , and th e su n came a ter , And the green gre w golde n above ;

-ﬂo w e rs And the ﬂ ag lightened with laughter ,

- And the meadow sweet shook with love .

Your feet i n the full -grown grasses Moved soft as a weak wind blows ;

as You passed m e April passes ,

With f ace m ade out o f a rose .

By th e strea m where the stem s were slender , Your bright foot pau sed at th e sedge ; It might be to watch the tender

Light leaves i n the springtime hedge ,

2 2 0 A N I N T E R L U D E

O n bough s th at the sweet month bl anches With ﬂowery f rost o f May

It might be a bird in the bran ches ,

I t might be a thorn i n the way .

I waited to watch you linger f f With oot drawn back rom the dew , Till a sunbeam straight li ke a ﬁnger

Struck sh arp through th e leaves at you .

F o llo w And a bird overhead sang , And a bird to the righ t sang H ere ;

o f w as And the arch the le aves hollow ,

And the meaning o f May w as clear .

’ s aw I wh ere the sun s h and pointed , ’ I knew what the bird s note said ; f By the dawn and the dew all anointed ,

You were quee n by the gold on your head .

As the glimpse o f a burnt-out ember

o f su n Recalls a regret the , f I remember , orget , and reme mber

saw Wh at Love done and undone .

w a I remember th e y we parted , The day and the way we met ; - You hoped we were both broken hearted ,

And knew we should both forget .

2 2 1 A N I N T E R L U D E

And May with her worl d in ﬂower S eemed still to murmur and smile As you murmured and smiled fo r an hour ;

I saw you turn at the stile .

A h and like a white wood-blossom f You li ted , and waved , an d passed ,

With head hung down to th e bosom , And pale , as it seemed , at l astI.

And the best and the worst o f this is Th at neither is most to blame If you ’ve forgotten my kisses

’ An d I ve forgotten your name .

2 2 2

H E N D E C A S Y L L A B I C S

All are taken away ; the season wasted ,

Like an ember among the fallen ashes .

o f Now with light the wi nter days , with moonlight ,

o f o f f Light snow , and the bitter light hoar rost , f f We bring ﬂowers that ade not a ter autumn ,

C o f Pal e white haplets and crowns latter seasons , f f Fai r al se leaves ( but the su mmer leaves were alser ) , Woven under th e eyes o f stars and planets Whe n low light w as upon the windy reaches

w o f f Where the ﬂo er oam was blown , a lily Dropt among the sonorous fruitless furrows And green ﬁelds o f the se a th at m ake no pasture

S ince the winter begi ns , th e weeping winter ,

All whose ﬂowers are tears , and round his temples

Iron b lossom o f frost i s bound fo r ever .

2 2 4 S A P P H I C S

LL the night sleep came not upon my eyelids , f S hed not dew , nor Shook nor u nclosed a eather , Yet with lips shut close and with eyes o f iron

S tood and beheld me .

Then to me so lying aw ake a vision

Came without Sleep over the seas and touch ed me , xx f S o tly tou ched mine eyelids and lips ; and I too ,

o f Full the vision ,

S aw the white implacable Aphrodite , S aw the hair unbound and the feet unsandalled S hine as ﬁre o f sunset on western waters ; S aw the reluctant

o f Feet , th e straining plumes the doves th at drew her ,

Looking always , looking with necks reverted

Back to Lesbos , back to the hills whereunder S hone Mitylene

Heard the ﬂying feet o f the Loves behind h er

Make a sudden thunder upon th e waters , As the thunder ﬂung from the strong un closing

Wings o f a great wind .

2 2 5 S A P P H I C S

f f S o the goddess ﬂed rom her pl ace , with aw ul S ound o f feet and thunder o f wi ngs arou nd her ; While behi nd a cl amour o f singing women

S evered th e twilight .

Ah the singing , ah th e delight , the passion

All the Loves wept , listening ; Sick with anguish , S tood the crowne d ni ne Muses about Apollo ; w as Fear upon the m ,

While the tenth s ang wonderful things they knew not . ! Ah the tenth , the Lesbian the nine were silent , None endured the sound o f h er song for weeping ;

Laurel by l aurel ,

Faded all their crowns ; but about her foreh ead Round h er woven tresses and ash en temples w White as dead sno , paler th an grass i n sum mer , w Ravaged with kisses ,

S hone a light o f ﬁre as a crown fo r ever .

Ye a , al most the i mpl acable Aph rodite

Paused , and al most wept ; such a song w as that song ,

Yea , by her n ame too

“ Called h er , saying , Turn to me , O my S appho ;

s he f f S he Yet turned h er ace ro m the Loves , saw not

fo r Tears l aughter darke n im mortal eyelids , Heard not about her

2 2 6

S A P P H I C S

All withdrew long Since , an d th e l and was b arren ,

Full o f fruitless women and music only .

Now perch ance , when winds are assu aged at sunset , f Lulled at the dew all ,

se a- o f By th e grey side , unassuaged , unh eard ,

o f Unbeloved , unsee n i n th e ebb twilight , Ghosts o f outcast women return lamenting ;

Purged not in Lethe ,

Cloth ed about with ﬂame and with tears , and singing

o f , V S ongs th at move the heart the sh aken heaven f t S ongs th at break the h eart o the earth with pi y ,

Hearing , to h ear them .

2 2 8 A T E L E U S I S

o f EN Eleusis , ye that with long staves

- Sit in the m arket houses , and speak words Made sweet with wisdom as the rare wine is Thickened with honey ; and ye sons o f these Who in the gl ad thick streets go up and down For pastime or grave trafﬁ c or mere chance ; An d all f air women h aving rings o f gold O n h ands or h air ; and chiefest over these

n o f I ame you , daughters this m an th e king , Wh o dipping deep smooth pitchers o f pure brass

li ’ Under the bubbled wells , till each roun d p V o f Stooped wi th loose gurgle waters i ncoming ,

Old Fou nd m e an sick woman , l amed and lean , Beside a growth o f builded olive -boughs Whence multiplied thick song o f thick-plumed throats Also wet tears ﬁlled up my hollow h ands By reason o f my crying into them And pitied me ; fo r as col d water ran f f And wash ed the pitchers ull rom lip to lip , f So w ashed both eyes ull the strong salt o f tears .

And ye put water to my mouth , m ade sweet With brown hill-berries ; so in time I spoke f And gathered my loose knees rom under me .

2 2 9 A T E L E U S I S

Moreover i n the broad fair h alls this month H ave I fou nd space and bou nti ful abode

To . o f r please me I Demeter speak this , Who am th e mother and th e m ate o f things For a s ill m en by drugs or singin g words S hut the doors i nward o f th e n arrowed womb

Like a lock bolted with round iron through , Thus I shut up th e body and sweet mouth O f f all so t pasture and th e tender l and , So th at no seed can enter i n by it

so w Though one thickly , nor som e grai n get out Past th e h ard clods men cl eave an d bite with steel

LT O wide n th e sealed lips o f them fo r u se . None o f you i s there i n the peopl ed street But knows how all the dry — drawn furrows ache With no gree n spot made count of i n th e bl ack How the wind ﬁ nds no com fortable grass Nor is assu aged with bud nor bre ath o f herbs ;

And in hot autumn wh en ye house th e stacks ,

sun All ﬁel ds are helpless i n th e , all trees

Stand as a m an stripped out o f all but Skin . Nevertheless ye Sick h ave help to get By mean s and stablished ordinance o f God

For God is wi ser th an a good m an is . But never sh all new grass be sweet in earth Till I get righted O f my wou nd and wrong

- By ch anging cou nsel o f ill minded Z eus . For o f all other gods is none save me

Clothed with like power to build and break the ye ar .

2 3 0

A T E L E U S I S

f Killing th e throbs i n th eir so t blood ; and birds ,

Perch ed next h er elbow and pecking at h er hair , Stretch ed their necks more to se e her than even to A sh arp thin g is it I h ave need to say For H ades hol ding both white wrists o f hers Unloose d th e girdle an d with knot by knot

his Boun d her between wh eels upon th e seat ,

Bound her pure body , holiest yet and dear

To m e and God as always , clothed about

With blossoms l oosened as h er knees went down , Let fall as she l et go o f this and this f By tens and twenties , tumbled to h er eet ,

White wai fs or purpl e o f th e pasturage . Therefore with only going up and down f My eet were w asted , and th e gracious air , f To m e discom ortable an d dun , becam e

As weak smoke blowing i n the under world . And ﬁnding i n th e process o f ill d ays Z What part h ad eus herein , an d how as m ate f w H e coped with H ades , yoke ello i n sin , I set my lips against the meat o f gods

And drank not neith er ate or slept i n h eaven . Nor i n th e gol den greeting o f their mouths

o f Did ear take note me , nor eye at all

Track my feet going i n th e ways o f them . Like a great ﬁre on some strait slip o f lan d Between two washing inl ets o f wet s e a Th at burns the grass up to each lip o f beach

o f And strengthens , waxing i n the growth wind , A T E L E U S I S

S o burnt my soul in m e at heaven and e arth ,

Each way a ruin and a hungry plague , Visible evil ; nor coul d any night

t sun Put cool be ween mine eyelids , nor the

With competence o f gol d ﬁll out my want . the Yea so my ﬂame burnt up grass and stones , - o f Shone to the salt white edges thin sea ,

Distempered all th e gracious work , and m ade I o f S ick change , unseason able increase days An d scant avail o f seasons ; fo r by this The fair gods faint i n hollow heaven there co mes No taste o f burnings o f th e twofold fat

To leave their palates smooth , nor in th eir lips Soft rings o f smoke and weak scent wandering ; an d All cattl e waste and rot , their ill smell Grows alway from the l ank unsavoury ﬂesh Th at no m an slays f o r off ering ; the s e a An d wate rs moved beneath th e h eath and corn

f fi n - fi sh Preserve the people o twinkling , And river-flie s feed thick upon th e smooth ; But all earth over is no m an or bird ( Except the sweet race o f the kingfish er)

That l acks not and is we aried with mu ch loss . Meantime the purple inw ard o f the house Was softened with all grace o f scent and sound I n ear and nostril perfecting my praise ; Faint grape -ﬂ o w e rs and cloven honey -cake And the just grain with dues o f th e sh ed salt M ade me content : yet my h and loosened not

2 3 3 A T E L E U S I S

Its gripe upon y our h arvest all year long .

-m uﬂie d While I , thus wom an i n wan ﬂesh

o f f And waste externals a perished ace , Preserved the l evels o f my wrath and love Patiently ruled ; an d with so ft ofﬁ ces Cooled th e sharp noons and busied th e warm nights

o f I n care this my choice , this child my choice , ’ so n Triptolemus , th e king s selected f Th at this air yearlong body , which h ath grown i S trong with strange milk upon th e mortal lip

f . And nerved with h al a god , might so i ncrease Outside the bulk and the bare scope o f m an And waxen over l arge to hold within

o f d Base breath yours and this i mpoverishe air ,

of I might exalt hi m past the ﬂame stars ,

Th e limit and walled reach o f the great world . There fore my breast m ade common to his mouth

Im mortal savours , and the taste whereat Twice th eir h ard life strains out the coloured veins

And twice its brai n conﬁrms the n arrow Shell . f Al so at night , unwinding cloth rom cloth As w ho unhusks an almond to the white

And pastures curiously the purer taste , f f I bared the gracious limbs and th e so t eet ,

ash Unswaddled th e weak h ands , and i n mid

o f f Laid the sweet ﬂesh either eeble side , More tender fo r impressure o f som e touch Than w ax to any pen ; and lit around

— Fire , and m ade crawl the white worm sh apen ﬂame ,

2 3 4

A T E L E U S I S

o f f Bleed the red he avy blood swoln so t win e , ’ Subtle with sh arp le aves intri cacy , until Ful l o f white y e ars and blossom o f hoary days I take hi m perf ected ; f o r whose one sake I am thus gracious to the least who stands Filleted with white wool an d girt upon As he whose prayer endures upon the lip An d falls not w aste wherefore let sacriﬁce Burn and run red i n all the wider ways ; S eein g I h ave sworn by the pale templ es ’ band And poppied hair o f gold Persephone

- S ad tresse d and pl e ached low down about her brows , b And y the sorrow i n her lips , and death f — H er dumb and mourn ul mouthed minister , My word fo r you i s e ased o f its harsh weight And doubled with soft promise ; and your king

C e le us Triptolemus , this dead and sw athed

f o r Purple and pale gol den burial ,

S hall be your helper i n my services , Dividing earth an d reaping fruits thereof

- - I n ﬁelds where w ait , well girt , well wreathen , all The h eavy-handed seasons all year through ;

o f - S avin g the choi ce w arm spear headed grain , And stooping sharp to the sl ant- sided sh are All beasts th at f urrow the remeasured land

With their bowed necks o f burden equable .

2 3 6 A U G U S T

f HERE were our apples on th e bough , f f H al gold hal red , that one might know The blood was ripe inside the core ; The colour o f the leaves w as more Like stems o f yello w corn that grow ’ Through all th e gol d June m eadow s ﬂoor .

The warm smell o f the fruit w as good f To eed on , an d the split green wood , With all its bearded lips and stains Of mosses i n the cloven veins , if Most pleasant , one l ay or stood

I n sunshine or in happy rains .

f o n There were our apples the tree ,

Red stained through gol d , that all might see The sun went warm from core to rind ; The green l eaves m ade the summer blind I n that soft place they kept f o r me

With golden apples shut behind .

sun The leaves caught gol d across the ,

And where the bluest air begun , Thirsted fo r song to h elp the heat ; ’ A S I to feel my lady s feet

2 3 7 A U G U S T

Draw close be fore the day were done ;

Both lips grew dry with dre ams o f it .

I n the mute August afternoon They trembled to som e undertune O f musi c in the silver air ; Great pleasure w as it to be there Till green turned duskier and the moon

- Coloured the corn she aves like gold hair . I Th at Au gust time it was delight To watch the red m oons wane to white ’ Twixt grey se amed stems o f apple-trees ; 1 A sense o f heavy harmonies

o f Grew on the growth patient night ,

More sweet than shapen music is .

But some three hours be fore the moon f The air , still eager rom the noon , f Flagged a ter heat , not wholly dead ; Against the stem I le ant my head ;

The colour soothed me like a tune ,

Green l eaves all round the gold and red .

I l ay there till the w arm smell grew

o f More sharp , when ﬂecks yellow dew Between the round ripe leaves had blurred The rind with stai n and w e t ; I h eard

A wind th at blew and breathed and blew ,

Too we ak to alter its one word .

2 3 8

Y A C H R I S T M A S C A R O L "

HREE ’ damsel s i n the queen s chamber , ’ The queen s mouth w as most fair ; ’ S he spake a word o f God s mother

As the combs went in h er h air . M ary that is o f might ’ Bring u s to thy S on s sight .

f They hel d the gol d combs out rom h er , ’ A span s length o ff her head ; ’ S he sang this song - o f God s moth er

- And o f h er bearing b e d .

f o f M ary most ull grace , ’ Bring us to thy S on s face .

’ s at When sh e at Joseph s h and , S he looked agai nst her Side ; An d either way from the short silk band

Her girdle w as all wried .

M ary th at all good m ay , ’ Bring us to thy S on s w ay .

had fo r Mary three wom en her bed , The twain were m aidens cl ean

. R s s t i s . u e s t d b raw n o f M r D . G o e t S gg e y a d i g .

2 40 A C H R I S T M A S C A R O L

o f The ﬁrst them h ad white and red ,

The third had riven green .

Mary th at is so sweet , ’ Bring u s to thy S on s feet .

fo r S he h ad three women her hair , Two were gloved soft and shod ; f The third h ad eet and ﬁngers b are ,

S he was the likest God .

w ie lde th Mary th at l and , ’ Bring us to thy S on s hand .

fo r S he had three women her ease , The twain were good women

e Th e ﬁrst two w re the two Maries ,

The third was Magdal en . f Mary that per ect is , ’ Bring us to thy S on s kiss .

his Joseph h ad three workmen in stall , To serve hi m well upon ;

o f The ﬁrst them were Peter and Paul ,

The third o f them was Joh n . ’ Mary , God s h andmaiden , ’ Bring us to thy S on s ken .

If ’ your child be none other m an s , if it But be very mine ,

The bedstead sh all be gol d two spans , ” The bedfoot silver ﬁne .

2 4 1 A C H R I S T M A S C A R O L

Mary th at m ade God mirth , ’ Bri ng us to thy S on s birth .

’ If the child be som e other m an s ,

if o f And it be none mine ,

Th e m anger sh all be straw two spans , ” Betwixen kine and kine .

sin Mary that m ade cease , ’ Bring us to thy S on s pe ace . I

Christ was born upon this wise , f It ell on su ch a night ,

o f Neith er with sounds psalteries ,

Nor with ﬁre fo r light . ’ Mary th at i s God s spouse , ’ Bring us to thy S on s house .

Th e star came out u pon the east With a great sound an d sweet Kings gave gold to make hi m f east

And myrrh fo r him to eat .

o f Mary , thy sweet mood , ’ Bring u s to thy S on s good .

his He h ad two handm ai ds at h ead , O ne hand maid at his feet ;

o f f The twain them were air and red ,

The third one was right sweet .

Mary th at is most wise , ’ Bri ng us to thy Son s eyes . Amen .

2 4 2

T H E M A S CLU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

o f And m orrows each yesterday ,

H e h ath you i n his h and .

C L a a n zis ida m SE UNDUS MI ES ( P g gn ) .

By S atan I hold no such thing ; For if wine swell withi n a king

fo r Whose e ars drink are hot an d ring , The sam e shall dream o f wine -bibbing Whilst he can lie or stand :

O JE EN B E RS AB E . J'

f n o w o r . Peace , lords , Godis head Ye chirk as starlings th at be fe d And gape as ﬁsh es newly dead ;

The devil put your bones to bed ,

Lo , this is all to say .

SE C UNDUS MI L ES .

By Mahound , lords , I h ave good will ’ This devil s bird to wring and spill ;

o ur For now m eseems gam e goes ill ,

Ye h ave scant h earts to pl ay .

TERTIUS MI L ES .

Lo , sirs , this word i s there said , Th at U rias the knight is dead

2 44 E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

f Poulis Through some ill cra t ; by he ad , I doubt his blood h ath m ade so red ’ This bird th at ﬂ e w from th e queen s bed

Whereof ye have such fear .

K ING DAV ID .

is Yea , my good kn ave , and it said Th at I can raise men from the dead ? By God I think to h ave his head ’ Who saith words o f my lady s bed

For any thief to hear .

E l p e rcutia t ow n in capite .

QUEEN B E RS AB E .

Wis I men sh all spit at m e , And s ay it were but right fo r thee That one should h ang thee on a tree ; Ho it were a fair thing to see Th e big stones bruise her false body ; Fie ! w ho shall see her dead ?

K ING DAV ID .

f o f I rede you h ave no ear this ,

For as ye wot , the ﬁrst good ki ss I h ad must be the l ast o f his ;

o f w is Now are ye queen mine , I , And l ady o f a house that is

Full rich o f meat an d bread .

2 45 T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

PRIMUS MI L ES .

I bid you make good cheer to be

S o fair a queen as all men see . And hold us fo r your lieges free ; ’ By Peter s soul that h ath the key ,

Ye h ave good hap o f it .

SE C UNDUS MI L ES .

I would that h e were h anged and dead Who h ath no joy to s e e your hea d

With gold about it , barred on red ; I hold him as a sow o f le ad

That is so scant o f wit .

Tn n e diea t NATHAN p rop/ze ta .

0 king , I have a word to thee ; Th e child that i s i n Be rs ab e Sh all wither without light to s e e This word i s come o f God by me

For si n th at ye h ave done . Becau se herein ye di d not ri ght To take the fair one l amb to smite Th at w as o f Urias the knight ;

Ye wist he h ad but one .

Full many sheep I wot ye h ad ,

And m any women , when ye bade

2 46

T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

SE C UNDUS MI L ES .

f How old thie , thy wits are l ame ; To clip su ch it i s no sh ame ; ’ I rede you in the devil s n ame , Ye come not here to m ake men game ;

T e rm a aun t By g that m aketh grame ,

- I Sh all to bete thine head .

’ Hie D i a b olus capia t e n m . ﬁ n e rs e rfa ; This kn ave h ath sharp g , , p y

Mahound you thank an d keep alway , And give you good knees to pray ;

Wh at m an hath no lust to pl ay , s a The devil wring his ears , I y ;

y There is no more but well awa ,

For now am I dead .

K ING DAV ID .

is Certes his mouth wried an d bl ack , Full little pence be i n his sack ;

This devil h ath hi m by the back ,

It is no boot to lie .

NATHAN .

S itteth now still and le arn o f me A little while and ye Sh all see ’ The face o f God s strength presently .

2 48 E M A S QU E O F QU E E N R S A B E

Be rsab e All queens m ade as this , f f All th at were air and oul ye be ,

Come hither ; it am I .

E t lzze om n es ca n ta b nn t .

HERODIAS

I a m th e queen H erodias . This h eadband o f my temples was ’ King Herod s gold band woven me , This broken dry staff in my h and ’ Was th e queen s staff o f a great l and

Betwixen Perse and S am arie .

o f f For th at one dancing my eet ,

The ﬁre is come in my green wh eat ,

From one sea to the other se a .

AHO L IBAH .

I am th e queen Aholibah . My lips kissed dumb the word o f Ali Sighed on strange lips grown sick thereby God wrought to m e my royal bed ; f The in ner work thereo was red ,

The outer work was ivory . ’ My mouth s heat was the heat o f ﬂame For lust towards the kings that came

With horsemen riding royally .

2 49 T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

C L EOPATRA .

I am th e queen o f Ethiope . Love bade my kissing eyelids ope

Th at men beholding might praise love . My h air was wonderful and curled ; ’ My lips held fast th e mouth 0 the world

To spoil the strength and speech thereof . Th e l atter triumph in my breath o f Bowed down the beaten brows de ath ,

Ash ame d they had not wrath enough .

AB IHAI L .

I am the queen o f Tyrians .

h fo r My air was glorious twelve spans ,

Th at dried to loose dust afterward . My stature w as a strong m an ’s length My neck w as like a place o f strength

Built with white walls , even and hard . Like the ﬁrst noise o f rain leaves catch f One rom another , snatch by snatch ,

Is my praise , hissed against and m arred .

A Z UBAH .

I am the queen o f Amorites . My face w as like a pl ace o f lights

With multitudes at festival .

2 50

T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

ATARAH .

I a m the queen Sidonian .

f f f o f My ace m ade aint the ace m an ,

An d strength was bound between my brows .

S pikenard was hidden in my ships ,

Honey and wheat and myrrh i n strips ,

White wool s that shine as colou r does , f f S o t linen dyed upon the old , S plit spice and cores o f scented gold

Cedar an d broken cal amus .

SEMIRAMIS .

I am the queen S em i ram is . The whole world and the s e a that is f I n ashion like a chrysopras ,

o f n The noise all m en labouri g , ’ The priest s mouth tired through thanksgiving , ’ o f lo v e The sound in the blood s pause , ’ o f The strength love in the blood s beat , All these were cast beneath my feet

And all fou nd lesser th an I w as .

HESIONE

I am the queen Hesione . The season s th at i ncreased in m e f ’ Made my ace fairer than all men s .

2 52 E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

I h ad the sum mer i n my hair ; And al l the pale gold autumn air

Was as th e habit o f my sense . My body was as ﬁre that shone ; God ’s beauty th at makes all things on e

Was one among my h andm aidens .

C HRYSOTHEMIS .

I am the queen o f S am o thrac e . f God , making roses , m ade my ace

As a rose ﬁlled up full with red . My prows m ade sharp the straitened se as From Pontus to that Ch ersonese

Whereon the ebbed Asian stream is shed . My h air w as as sweet scent th at drips ; Love ’s breath begun about my lips

Kindled the lips o f people de ad .

THOMYRIS .

I am the queen o f S cythi ans . ’ w as ho f My strength like no strengt m an s ,

f . My ace like day , my breast like spring My fame was felt i n the extreme l and Th at h ath sunshine on the one h an d

- An d on the other star shining .

f o f Ye a , and the wind there ails breath ; f Yea , and there li e i s waste like death ;

Yea , and there death is a gl ad thing .

2 53 T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

HA R IIAS .

I am the queen o f An akim .

I n the spent years whose speech is di m ,

Whose raiment i s th e dust and de ath , My stately body without stai n S hone as th e shining race o f rain

Whose h air a great win d scattereth ,

Now h ath God turned my lips to sigh s ,

o ff f m Plucked mine eyelids rom ine eyes ,

And seal ed with seal s my way o f breath .

MYRRHA .

I a m th e queen Arabian . The tears wh erewith mine eyelids ran ’ S melt like my perfumed eyelids smell . f A h arsh thirst m ade my so t mouth h ard , Th at ach ed with kisses afterward ;

My brai n rang like a beaten bell .

As tears on eyes , as ﬁre on wood ,

fe d a S in upon my bre th and blood ,

S in m ade my breasts subside an d swell .

PASIPHAE .

I am the queen Pasiph ae . Not all th e pure clean -colou red sea Could cle anse or cool my ye arning veins ;

2 54

T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

AM E S TR IS

I am the queen o f Persians .

My breasts were lordlier than bright swans ,

My body as amber fair and thin .

fo r S trange ﬂesh was given my lips bread ,

fe d With poisonous hours my days were , f - And my eet sh od with adder skin . I n S hush an toward Ecb atan e

a d I wrought my joys with tears n pain ,

My loves with blood and bitter sin .

EPHRATH .

I am the queen o f Reph aim . f God , that some while re raineth hi m ,

Made i n th e end a spoil o f m e . My rumour was upon the world As strong sound o f swol n water hurled

Through porches o f the straining s e a .

w as ﬂ a -ﬂo w e r My h air like th e g , And my breasts carven goodlier

Than beryl with ch al cedony .

PASITHEA .

I am the queen o f Cypriotes .

Mine oarsmen , l abouring with brown throats ,

S ang o f m e many a tender thing .

2 56 E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

My maidens , girdl ed loose and braced With gol d from bosom to white waist

- Praised me betw een their wool combing . All th at praise Venu s all night long With lips like speech and lids like song

Praised me till song lost heart to Sing .

A LA C IE L .

I am the queen Alacie l . My mouth w as like that moist gol d cell

Whereout th e thickest honey drips . Mine eyes were as a grey-green se a ; The amorous blood that smote on me

- S mote to my feet and ﬁ n g e r tips .

w as My throat whiter th an the dove ,

as o f Mine eyelids the se al s love ,

And as the doors o f love my l ips .

E RIGONE .

I am the queen Erigone . The wild w ine shed as blood on m e ’ Made my face brighter th an a bride s .

o f My large lips had the ol d thirst e arth , ’ Mine arms the might o f th e old se a s girth ’ Bound round the whole worl d s iron sides . Within mi ne eyes and in mine ears

o f Were musi c and the wine tears ,

o f . And light , and thunder the tides

E l li ic exe a n t ct die a t B e rsa b e re in a ‘ , g ,

2 57 E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

fo r Al as , God , thy great pity

fo r And the might th at is in thee ,

f Be rs ab e Behold , I wo ul Cry out with s to o pin g s Of my knee And thy wrath l aid and bound on me

Till I m ay se e thy love .

B eh old , Lord , this child is grown Within me between bone and bone

o f s o n To m ake m e mother a , Made o f my body with stron g moan ; There sh all not be anoth er one

Th at shall be m ade hereof .

K ING DAV ID . ? Lord God , al as , what sh all I sain

LO , thou art as an hundred m en Both to break and buil d again :

The wil d ways thou m akest plain ,

b ail Thine h ands hold the and rain , And thy ﬁngers both grape and grain ;

O f w e f their l argess be all well ain , And o f their great pity

o f The sun thou madest good gold , O f cl ean silver the moon cold , All the great stars thou hast tol d A s thy cattl e in thy fol d Every one by hi s nam e o f ol d ;

Wind and water thou h ast i n hold , Both the l and and the long sea ;

2 58

T H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A B E

I t is no marvel , well ye weet ,

A man to waxen amorous . This I say now by my case That Spied forth o f th at royal place ; There I saw in no great space f Mine own sweet , both body an d ace , f Under the resh boughs . I n a water th at w as th ere S h e w e sshe her goodly body bare And dried it with her owen h air f Both h er arm s and her knees air , Both bosom and brows ; Both shoulders and eke thighs Th o she w e sshe upon this wise ;

She Ever sighed with little sigh s ,

And ever s he gave God thank .

Ye a , God wot I can well see yet Both her breast and h er sides all wet And h er long h air withouten let S pread sideways like a drawing net ; Full dear bought and full far fe t Was th at sweet thing there y - se t ; It were a h ard thing to forget

an d How both lips eyen m et ,

Bre ast and breath s ank .

S O s he w as goodly a Si g ht as th ere , Lying looki ng on her gl ass

By wan water in green grass ,

Yet saw never m an .

2 6 0 H E M A S QU E O F QU E E N B E R S A

S o so ft and great she was and bright

With all her body waxen white , I w o xe nigh blind to see th e light Shed out O f it to le ft an d right ; This bitter sin from that sweet sight

Between us twain began .

NATHAN .

sir Now , , be merry anon ,

f so n For ye sh all have a ull wise , Goodly and great o f ﬂesh and bone ; l There sh a l no ki ng be such an one ,

I swear by Godis rood . f There ore , lord , be merry here , f And go to meat withouten ear , And h e ar a mass with goodly cheer ;

' f f For to all olk ye sh all be dea ,

An d all folk o f your blood .

E t tun e dica n t L a ii da m iis .

2 6 1 S T T . D O R O H Y

T hath been seen and yet it Sh all be seen ’ Th at out o f tender mouths God s praise h ath been f Made per ect , and with wood and simple string H e h ath pl ayed m usic sweet as sh awm -pl ayin g To please himsel f with softness o f all sound ; An d no sm all thin g but h ath been sometime found

o f Full sweet use , and no such humbleness But God hath bruised withal the sentences And evidence o f wise m en witnessing ; No leaf th at is so soft a hidden thin g It never sh all get sight o f th e great sun ;

f o f Th e strength o ten has been th e strength one ,

And lowliness has waxed imperious . There w as i n Rome a m an Theophilus O f right great blood and gracious w ays , th at h ad All noble fashions to m ake people gl ad An d a sof t li fe o f pleasurabl e days ;

w as fo r H e a goodly m an one to praise , Fl awless and whole upward from foot to head ; Hi s arms were a red h awk that alway fe d f On a small bird with eathers gn awed upon , Beaten and plucked about the bosom -bone Wh ereby a small round ﬂeck like ﬁre th ere w as They called it i n their ton gue lam padias ;

2 6 2

S T . D O R O T H Y

And herewith fell to fancies o f h er li fe f - And so t h al f thoughts that ended suddenly . ’ f This i s m an s gui se to please himsel , when he

n o t o f his S h al l see one thi ng ple asant things , Nor with out watch o f m any trav ailin g s Come to b e eased o f the least pai n h e hath For all his love an d all his foolish wrath

And all the heavy m anner o f his mind . Thus is he like a ﬁsher fallen blind That casts his nets across the boat awry

se a To strike the , but lo , h e striketh dry And plucks the m back all broken fo r hi s pain And bites his beard and casts across agai n

And reaching wrong slips over i n the s e a .

fo r fe e S o h ath this m an a strangl ed neck ,

For al l his cost h e chuckles i n his throat . This Theophile th at littl e hereof wote Laid wait to he ar o f h er wh at she might be

she b ad o f Men tol d hi m nam e Dorothy ,

And w as a lady o f a worthy house . Thereat this kni ght grew i nly glorious

That he should h ave a love so fair o f place .

w as o f f S h e a m aiden most quiet ace ,

o f Tender speech , and h ad no hardihood But was nigh feeble o f her fearful blood ; Her mercy i n her was so m arvellous

he r — f From least years , that seei ng her schoo l ellows

That read beside her stricken with a rod , S he would cry s o re and s ay some word to God

2 64 S T . D O R O T H Y

That he would ease h er fellow o f his pain . There is no tou ch o f sun or fallen rai n

That ever fell on a more gracious thing . I n mi ddle Rome there w as in stone-worki ng

The church o f Venus painted royally . o f The ch apels it were some two or three , In each o f them her tabernacle was And a wide window o f six feet i n gl ass

Coloured with all h er works i n red and gold . The altars h ad bright cloths and cups to hold o f fo r The wine Venus the services , Made out o f honey and crushed wood -berries

That Shed sweet yellow through the thick wet red , Th at on high days was borne upon the head ’ Of Venus priest fo r any m an to drink ; S O that i n drinking he should fall to think f f f On some air ace , and i n the thought thereo

Worship , and such should triumph i n his love . For thi s soft wine th at did such grace and good

- ’ Was new trans shaped and mixed with love s own blood , That i n the ﬁghti ng Trojan time was bled ; For which came such a woe to Dio m e d

That he was stiﬂed after i n hard se a . And some said th at this wine-Shedding should be ’ o f f o f Made the alling Adonis blood , That curled upon the thorns and broken wood ’ And round the gold silk Shoes on Venus feet ; f The taste thereo was as hot honey Sweet , f And in the mouth ran so t and riotous .

2 65 S T . D O R O T H Y

f ’ This was the holiness o Venus house . w as It th eir worship , th at in August days Twelve m aidens shoul d go through those Roman w ays w Naked , and having gold across their bro s

And their h air twisted i n short golde n rows , To minister to Venus i n this wise And twelve men chosen i n their companies

- To m atch these m aidens by th e altar stair ,

All i n one habit , crowned upon the h air .

Among these men was chosen Theophile .

This knight went out and prayed a little while ,

Hol din g queen Venus by her hands , and knees I will give thee twelve royal i mages

o f Cut in gl ad gold , with m arvel s wrought stone

For thy sweet priests to le an and pray upon ,

J asper and hyacinth and chrysopras , And the strange Asi an th al amite th at was Hidden twelve ages u nder heavy se a

Among th e little sleepy pearls , to be A shrine lit over with so ft candle -ﬂ am e

o f Burning all night red as hot brows sh ame ,

S o thou wilt be my l ady without sin .

Goddess th at art all gol d outside and in ,

Help me to serve thee i n thy holy way .

Thou knowest , Love , that i n my be aring day There shone a l au gh ter in the Singing stars Round th e gol d — celled bride -bed wherein Mars

Touched thee and had th ee i n your kissing wise . f ’ Now th ere ore , sweet , kiss thou my m aiden s eyes

2 66

S T . D O R O T H Y

Covered none else , but crowned upon your h air ,

And do the service th at a maiden doth . S h e said but I th at a m Christ ’s maid were loth

To do this thing that h ath such bitter n ame . Thereat his brows were beaten with sore sham e

An d he came O ff and s ai d no oth er word .

his - d Then his eyes chanced upon banner bir , And he fell ﬁngerin g at the staff o f it And l aughed fo r wrath and stared between his feet And out o f a cha fed heart h e spake as thus

Lo how she japes at m e Theophilus , Feigning hersel f a fool and h ard to love ; Yet in good time fo r all sh e boasteth o f

S he Sh all be l ike a little beaten bird . An d while his mouth was open i n th at word

H e cam e upon the house J aniculum ,

Where some went busily , and other some

Talked i n the gate called th e gate glorious .

w as G ab alus Th e emperor , which one ,

S at over all and dra nk chill wine alone .

To whom is come Theophilus anon ,

: B e a u s ire D ian v o us a ide . And said as thus , f And a terward sat under him , and said

All this thing th rough as ye h ave wholly heard .

Thi s G ab alus l aughed thickly i n his beard .

Yea , this is righteousness and m aiden rule .

f . Truly , he said , a m aid i s but a ool f And j aped at the m as one ull villainous ,

G ab alus I n a lewd wise , this heathen ,

2 68 S T . D O R O T H Y

And sent his men to bi nd h er as h e bade .

Thu s h ave th ey taken Dorothy the m aid , And h aled her forth as men h ale pick-purses A little need God knows they h ad o f this

To h ale her by her m aiden gentle h air .

she f Thus went lowly , m aking a so t prayer , A S w ho his one stays the sweet wine in mouth ,

is Murmuring with eased lips , and most loth

To h ave done wholly with the sweet o f it . f ’ w it Christ king , air Christ , th at knowest all men s

f f o f And all the eebl e ashion my ways , 0 f f per ect God , th at rom all yesterdays

Ab ide st f whole with morrows per ected , I pray thee by thy mother ’s holy head

Thou help me to do right , th at I not slip

I h ave no speech nor strength upon my lip ,

Except thou help me who art wise and sweet . Do this too fo r those nails that clove thy feet

Let me die m aiden after m any pains .

Though I be least among thy handm aidens ,

Doubtless I sh all ta ke death more sweetly thus .

G ab alus Now h ave they brought her to King ,

- Who l aughed i n all his throat some breathing whiles . if By God , h e said , one should leap two miles ,

He were not p ained about the sides so much .

This were a soft thing fo r a m an to touch . S h all one so ch afe that h ath such little bones ? And shook his throat with thick and chuckled moans

For l aughter th at she had such holiness .

2 69 S T . D O R O T H Y

What aileth thee , wilt thou do services f It were good are to fare as Venus doth .

Th e n said this l ady with her m aiden mouth , f l S h ame aced , and something pa er in the ch eek

s ir Now , , albeit my wit and will to speak

o f Give me no grace in sight worthy men ,

For all my sh ame yet know I this ag ain , r I f m ay not speak , nor a ter downlying

- Rise up to take delight i n lute pl aying , f Nor sing nor Sleep , nor sit and ol d my hands , But my soul in some measure understands

’

G o d s . L grace lai d like a garment over me F o r this fair God th at out o f strong sh arp s e a f - Li ted the sh apely an d green coloured land , And h ath the weight o f he av e n in his han d

As one might hold a bird , and under hi m The he avy golden pl anets beam by beam

f - o f Building th e easting ch ambers his house ,

And the l arge world h e holdeth with his brows , And with th e light o f th em a sto n ishe th All pl ace and tim e and face O f life and death

o f n And motion the orth wi nd and the south , An d is th e soun d withi n hi s angel ’s m outh

O f o f singing words and words th anksgiving , And is th e colour o f th e l atter spring

su n And he at upon th e sum mer and the , And is beginning o f all things begun

And gath ers i n hi m all things to th eir end , And with the ﬁngers o f his h and doth bend

2 7 0

S T . D O R O T H Y

is By God a wom an th e harder thing ,

One m ay not put a hook i nto her m o n th.

No w by S t . Luke I a m so sore adro uth For all these saws I must needs drink again But I pray God deliver all us men

From al l such noise o f women and their heat .

That is a noble scriptu re , well I weet , That likens women to an empty can ;

Wh en God said th at h e was a full wise man . ' I tro w no m an m ay bl ame him as fo r that .

And herewithal he drank a draught , and spat ,

: f And said Now sh all I m ake an e nd h ereo . ’ fo r Come near all men and he arken God s love ,

And ye sh all h ear a jest or twai n , God wot . And spake as thu s with mouth full thick and hot ;

But thou do this thou sh alt be shortly sl ain .

LO s ir she , , sai d , thi s death and all this pain

I take i n pen ance o f my bitter sins .

Gab alus a . Yea , now , quoth , this g me begins

LO sin . , without one sh all not live a span

Lo , this i s she that woul d not l ook on man

Between her ﬁngers folded i n thwart wise . S ee how her sh ame h ath smitten in h er eyes

Th at was so cl ean she h ad not h eard o f sh ame .

G ab alus Certes , h e said , by my name ,

This two years back I w as not so well pleased . This were good mirth fo r sick men to be e ased

An d rise up whole and l augh at hearing o f .

o f I pray thee show us something thy love ,

2 7 2 S T . D O R O T H Y

S ince thou wast maid thy gown is waxen wide .

Ye a , m ai d I am , sh e said , and somewh at sighed , As one w ho th ought upon th e low fair house she f Where sat working , with so t bended brows

- Watching her threads , among the school maidens . And she thought well now God h ad brought her thence

S he should not come to se w h er gold again . Then cried King G ab alus upon his men

To h ave h er forth and draw h er with steel gins . And as a man h ag-ridden beats and grins

his And bends his body sidelong in bed , ’ S o wagge d b e with his body and knave s head

Gaping at her , and blowing with his breath . And in good time he gat an evil death Out o f his lewdness with his cursed wives His bones were hewn asunder as with knives

For his misliving , certes it is said .

But all th e evil wrought upon this maid ,

It were full hard fo r one to handle it . f f For her so t blood w as shed upon her eet , ’ f And all her body s colour bruised and aint . ’ But she , as one abiding God s great saint ,

f o r S pake not nor wept all this travail hard . Wherefore the king comm anded afterward ’ To sl ay her presently i n all men s sight . And it w as now an hour upon the night - f e w . And winter time , and a stars began The weather was yet feeble and all wan f For beating o a weighty wind and snow .

2 7 3 S T . D O R O T H Y

she f And came walki ng i n so t wise and slow ,

And m any m en with f aces piteous .

G ab alu s Then cam e this heavy cursing , That swore full hard into his drunken beard ; And f aintly a fter without any word

Came Theophile some paces o ff the ki ng . And i n th e middle o f this way faring Full tenderly b eh olding her he said Th ere is no word o f com fort with me n dead Nor any face and colour o f things Sweet ; But always with l ean cheeks and li fted feet These dead men lie all aching to the blood

With bitter cold , their brows withouten h ood

fo r f Beating chill , their bodies swathed ull thin

Alas , what hi re shall any h ave herein To give hi s li fe and get su ch bitterness ? Also the soul going forth bodiless

Is hurt with naked cold , and no m an saith If the re be house or covering fo r death

To hide the soul th at is discom forted . r The n sh e beholdin g hi m a little s aid

f o f Al as , air lord , ye h ave no wit this ; For on on e side de ath is full poor o f bliss And as ye say full sh arp o f b o n e and lean But on th e other side is good and gree n And h ath so ft ﬂower o f tender — coloured hair

as f Grown on hi s head , and a red mouth ai r As m ay he kissed with lips ; thereto his face ’ f f e lac e I s as God s ace , and i n a per ct p

2 74

S T . D O R O T H Y

Kissing th e crannies that are split with h eat ,

And bran ch es where th e sum mer draws to head .

And Theophile burnt in the cheek , and said

s e e . Ye a , coul d one it , this were m arvellous

I pray you , at your comi ng to this house , Give me some leaf o f all those tree -branches ; so S eein g how sh arp and white our weather is ,

There is no green nor gracious red to se e . h s e . Ye a , sir , said , that sh all I certainly And f rom h er long sweet throat without a ﬂeck

- Undi d the gold , and through her stretched out neck

The cold axe clove , and smote away her h ead Out o f her throat th e tender blood f ull red

Fell suddenly through all her l ong soft h air . And with good speed fo r h ardness o f the air

Each m an departed to hi s house again .

LO f f o f , as air colour i n the ace men

- o f At seed time thei r blood , or i n such wise ’ A s a th ing seen incre aseth i n men s eyes , Caught ﬁrst far o ff by si ckly ﬁts o f sight if S o a word said , one shall hear aright ,

Abides against th e season o f its growth .

Thi s Theophile went slowly , as one doth Th at i s not sure fo r sick n ess o f his feet ;

o f And counting th e white stonework the street ,

f O f fo r Tears ell out his eyes wrath and love , Making him weep more fo r the sh ame thereo f

Th an f o r true pain so went h e h al f a mile .

w : And omen mocked hi m , saying Theophile ,

2 76 S T . D O R O T H Y

she Lo , is dead ; what Shall a wom an h ave

? so That loveth such an one Christ me save , - I were as lief to love a m an new hung .

his S urely this man h as bitten on tongue ,

This m akes hi m sad and writhled i n his face . An d when they came upon the p aven pl ace That w as called sometime th e pl ace amorous Th ere came a child before Theophilus

Bearing a basket , and said suddenly

sir is Fair , this my mistress Dorothy

Th at sends you gi fts ; and with this h e w as gone . I n all this e arth there is not such an one

For colour and s traight stature made so fair . The tender growing gold O f his pure h air

Was as wh eat g rowing , and his mouth as ﬂame . God called hi m Holy after his own n am e ;

With gol d cloth like ﬁre burning h e was cl ad .

f o r f But the air green basket that he had , It w as ﬁlled up with h eavy white and red

Great roses stained still where the ﬁrst rose bled , Burning at heart fo r sh ame their heart withholds And the sad colour o f strong m ari golds That h ave the su n to kiss their lips fo r love ; ’ o f The ﬂower th at Venus hair is woven , o f f the sun The colour air apples i n , Late peaches gath ere d when the heat w as done And th e sl ain air got breath ; and after these f f - The air aint headed poppies drunk with ease ,

And heaviness o f hollow lilies red .

2 7 7 S T . D O R O T H Y

s aw Then cried they all th at these things , and

’

w as . It God s doin g , and was m arvellous And in brie f while this knight Theophilus

f o f f I s waxen ull aith , and witnesseth

f o f Be ore the king God and love and death ,

For which the ki ng bade hang him presently . A gallows o f a goodly piece o f tree

This G ab alus h ath m ade to hang h im on . Forth o f this worl d lo Theophile i s gone l f With a wried neck , God give us better are Than his th at hath a twisted throat to wear ; But truly fo r his love God h ath hi m brought There where hi s he avy body grieves hi m nought Nor all th e people plucking at his f eet ; f ’ f But i n his ace his l ady s ace is sweet , And through his lips her kissi ng lips are gone

o f . God send him peace , and joy such an one

This is the story o f S t . Dorothy . I will you o f your mercy pray fo r m e

fo r Because I wrote these sayings you r grace ,

That I m ay one day see her i n the f ace .

2 7 8

T H E T W O D R E A M S

’ As a bird s will to sing disturbed his throat And s e t the sh arp wings forward like a boat f Pushed th rough so t water , moving his brow n side ’ - a S mooth shapen as m aid s , and shook with pride ’ His deep w arm bosom , till the h eavy sun s

S et face o f heat stopped all the songs at once . The ways were clea n to walk and delicate ;

w o f And hen the windy white March grew l ate , Before the trees took he art to face th e sun ’ o f With ravelled raiment lean winter on ,

The roots were thi ck and hot with hollow grass .

w as S ome roods away a lordly h ouse there , Cool with broad courts and latticed passage w e t

-ﬂ o w e rs s e t From rush and lilies ripe to , S own close among the strewings o f th e ﬂoor ; And either wall o f the slow corridor Was dim with deep device o f gracious things ; ’ S ome angel s steady m outh and weight o f wings S hut to the side ; or Peter with straight stole And beard cut bl ack against the aureole That spanned his head from n ape to crown ; th ere

’ - Mary s gol d h air , thick to the g irdle tie Wherein w as boun d a child with tender feet ;

Or the broad cross with blood nigh brown on it .

Withi n this house a righteous lord abode ,

o f S er Averardo ; patient his mood , And just o f j udgment ; an d to chil d he h ad A m aid so sweet th at her mere si g ht m ade gl ad

o f Men sorrowing , and unbound the brows hate ;

2 80 T H E T W O D R E A M S

And where sh e came , the lips th at pain m ade strait f Waxed warm and wide , and rom untender grew

Tender as those that sleep brings patience to .

S uch long, locks h ad she , that with knee to chin

S he might have wrapped and warmed her feet therein . Right seldom fell her face on weeping wise ;

she - Gol d h air had , and golden coloured eyes , Filled with clear light and ﬁre and large repose Like a fair hound ’s no m an there is but kno w s f Her ace was white , and thereto she was tall ; In no wise l acked there any praise at all To her m o St perfect an d pure m aidenhood ;

No sin I think there was i n all her blood .

S he , where a gold grate shut th e roses i n ,

Dwelt daily through deep summer weeks , through green Flushed hours o f rain upon the l eaves and there Love made him room and space to worship her o f With tender worship bowed knees , and wrought S uch pleasure as the p ained sense pal ates not

For weari ness , but at one taste undoes o f is n The heart its strong sweet , rave ous O f all th e hidden honey ; words and sense ’ Fail through the tune s i mperious prevalen ce .

I n a poor house this lover kept apart , Long communing with patience next his heart If lo v e o f his might move that face at all Tuned evenwise with colours musical ;

f o f : Then a ter length days he said thus Love , ’ For love s own sake and fo r the love thereof

2 8 1 T H E T W O D R E A M S

Let no h arsh words untune your gracious mood ; if For good it were , anything be good , ’ To com fort me i n this pai n s pl ague o f mi ne ;

S eeing thus , how neither sleep nor bread nor wine

S eems pleasant to me , ye a no thing that is w S eems ple asant to me ; only I kno this , ’ Love s ways are sh arp fo r pal ms o f piteous feet

o f : To travel , but th e en d such is sweet

Now do with me as seemeth you the best . hiS S h e mused a little , as on e holds guest

f : By the h and musing , with her ace borne down “ : Th en said Yea , though such bitter seed be sown , H ave no more care o f all th at you h ave said ;

if the re is S ince no sl eep will bind your head ,

a m f Lo , I ain to h elp you certainly ;

s ir if I Christ knoweth , , would h ave you die ; ” There is no pleasure when a m an is dead . Thereat he kissed her hands and yellow he ad And clipped her fair long body m any times ; I have no w it to shape i n written rhymes

A scanted tithe o f this great joy they h ad . They were too near love ’s secret to be gl ad As whoso deems the core will surely melt m f f Fro the warm ruit his lips caress , h ath elt Some bitter kernel where the teeth shut h ard f Or as sweet music sh arpens a terward , Being h al f disrelished both fo r sh arp and sweet ;

AS s e a- o - water , havin g killed ver h eat ’ In f a ma n s body , chills it with aint ache ;

2 8 2

T H E T W O D R E A M S

O f lan g uid leaves whereon the Autumn blows ’ The dead red rai ment o f th e l ast year s rose ’ ’ The l ast year s laurel , and the l ast year s love ,

f . Fade , and grow things that death grows weary o What m an will g ather in red summer- ti me The fruit o f some obscure and hoary rhyme

Heard l ast midwinter , taste the h eart in it , f Mould th e smooth semitones a resh , reﬁt f Th e air limbs rui ned , ﬂush the dead blood throu gh

With colour , make all broken beauties new ’ For love s new lesson — sh all not such find pai n When th e marred musi c l abouri ng i n his brai n f Frets him with sweet sh arp ragments , and lets slip O ne word th at might le ave satisfied his lip O ne touch th at might put fire i n all th e chords ? This was her pai n : to miss from all sweet words

o f S ome taste sound , diverse and delicate S om e speech the old love found out to compensate For seasons o f shut lips and drowsiness f S ome grace , some word the old love ound out to bless

Passionless months and undelighted weeks .

- The ﬂowers had lost thei r summer scented cheeks , Their lips were no more s w eet th an daily breath

The year was pl agued with instances o f de ath . f S o ell it , these were sitting i n cool grass

With leaves about , and many a bird there was Where the green sh adow thic k lie st impleached S o ft fruit and writhen spray and blossom bleached Dry in th e s u n or washed with rains to white :

2 8 4 T H E T W O D R E A M S

Her girdle was pure silk , the bosom bright

With purple as purple water and gol d wrought in .

O ne branch h ad touched with dusk her lips an d chin ,

o f Made Violet the throat , abashed with sh ade The breast ’s bright plaited work but nothing frayed ’ The sun s large kiss on the luxurious h air . H er beauty w as n e w colour to the air

And musi c to the silent m any birds . Love was an -hungred fo r some perfect words To praise her with ; but only her low n ame ” A n dre v uo la came thrice , and thrice put sh ame

so f f I n her clear cheek , ruit ul with new red ’ That f o r pure love straightway shame s sel f w as dead . Then with lids gathered as w ho l ate had wept Sh e began saying : I h ave so little slept My lids dro w se n o w against the very sun ;

Yea , the brain aching with a dream begun ﬁtful k Beats like a blood ; iss but both brows , And you sh all pluck my thoughts grown dangerous ’

Almost away . H e s aid thus , kissing them 0 sole sweet thing that God i s gl ad to n ame , f if My one gold gi t , dreams be sharp and sore S hall not the waking time increase much more ? With taste an d sound , sweet eyesight or sweet scent H as any heat too hard and insolent

Burnt bare the tender m arried leaves , undone The mai den grass shut under f rom the su n ? ” ”I Where i n thi s world is room enough fo r pain ? The feverish ﬁnger o f lo v e had touched again

2 8 5 T H E T W O D R E A M S

Her lips with h appier blood ; the pain l ay meek f f In her air ace , nor altered lip nor ch eek With pallor or with pulse ; but i n her mou th

as f Love thirsted a man way aring doth ,

Making it humble as weak hunger is .

S he l ay close to hi m , bade do this and th is ,

: - S ay that , sing thus then al most weeping ripe

lo w . f Crouched , then laughed As one th at ain would Th e old record out o f old things done an d dead ! s he S he rose , he aved h er h ands up , and waxed red For wil ful he art and blameless fear o f bl ame ; “ S aying Though my wits be weak , this is no sha me For a poor maid whom love so pun ishe th With h eats o f hesitation and stopped breath Th at with my dre ams I live yet he avily

’ For pure sad he art an d faith s hu mility .

Now be not wroth an d I will sh ew you this . Methought our lips upon their second ki ss

f w e b ad Met in this place , an d a air d ay An d fair so ft leaves th at waxed and were not s ad

With sh aken rai n o rob itte n th rough with drouth ;

When I , beholdi ng ever how your mouth

fo r f Waited mine , the throat being allen back , S aw crawl thereout a live thing ﬂaked with black

o f - S pecks brute sli me and leper coloured scale , ’ A devil s hide with foul ﬂ am e - writhen grail ’ Fashioned where hell s h eat festers lo athso m e st ;

f o f And that brie speech may ease me the rest ,

Thus were you sl ain and eaten o f th e thing .

2 8 6

T H E T W O D R E A M S

’ f And i n death s service wears out h al his age ,

f o f H ath his dreams ull deadly vassalage , S hado w and sound o f things ungraciou s ; f Fair sh allow aces , hooded bloodless brows , f An d mouths past kissing ; yea , mysel h ave had

As h arsh a drea m as hol ds your eyelids sad . This dre am I tell you cam e three nights ago ; I n full mid sleep I took a whi m to know How sweet thi ngs might be ; so I turned and thought ;

But save my dre am all sweet av aife d m e not . First came a smell o f pounded spice and scent Su ch as God ripen s i n som e continent O f utmost amber i n the Syri an se a ; An d breath s as though some costly rose coul d be

S poiled slowly , wasted by some bitter ﬁre f f To burn the sweet out lea by lea , a nd tire

’ ﬂ o w e r s Th e poor heart with heat and waste , to make ’ S trong m agi c fo r some perfumed wom an s sake . Th en a cool n aked sense beneath my feet O f bud and blossom and sound o f veins th at beat AS if a lute should pl ay o f its own h eart

f f o f And e ar ully , not smitten either part ; And all my blood it ﬁlled with sh arp and sweet As gold swoln grain ﬁlls out the husked wheat ; f S o I rose n aked rom th e bed , and stood Counting the mobile m e asure i n my blood

S ome ple asant while , and through each l imb there came w f S i t little pleasures pungent as a ﬂame , Felt i n the thrilling ﬂesh and vei ns as much

2 8 8 T H E T W O D R E A M S

As th e outer curls that feel the comb ’s ﬁrst touch Thrill to the roots and Shiver as f rom ﬁre ; And blind between my dream an d my desire I seemed to stand and hel d my spirit still

Lest this Should cease . A child whose fingers spill Honey from cells forgotten o f th e bee I s less afrai d to stir the hive and see ’ f S ome wasp s bright back inside , th an I to eel - Some fi n ge r touch disturb the flesh like steel . I prayed thus ; Let m e catch a secret here o f f S o sweet , it sh arpens th e sweet taste ear An d takes the mouth with edge o f wine ; I woul d H ave here som e colour and smooth shape as good As those i n heaven whom the chief garden hides With low grape-blossom veiling their white sides An d lesser tendrils that so bin d and blin d an d f if Their eyes eet , that one come behind

To tou ch their h air they see not , neither ﬂy ;

This would I see in heaven and not die . n S o praying , I h ad igh cried out and knelt , S o wholly my prayer ﬁlled me till I felt ’ I n the dumb night s warm weight o f glowing gloom

- S omewhat that altered all my sleeping room , And made it like a green low pl ace wherein Maids mix to bathe one sets her small warm chin

Against a rippl e , that the angry pearl May ﬂow like ﬂame about her : the next curl Dips in some eddy coloured o f the sun To wash the dust well out ; another one

2 89 T H E T W O D R E A M S

Holds a straight ankle in h er h and and swings

With l avish body sidelong , so th at rings Of f sweet ﬁerce water , swollen and splendid , ail

All round h er ﬁne and ﬂoated body pale ,

ﬂo w e r- f S wayed ashion , and her b al anced side

w o f S erved edgeways lets th e weight water slide , As taken i n some u n de rﬂo w o f sea S werves the banked gol d o f sea —ﬂo w e rs but she Pulls down some branch to keep he r perfect h ead o f : f Clear the river even rom wall to bed ,

tran sﬁ ure d so . I tell you , was my room g

S weet , green and warm it was , nor could one know

If if the re w as there were walls or leaves , or ’ No bed s green curtain , but mere gentl e grass . Th ere were se t also h ard against the feet

Gold pl ates with honey and green grapes to eat , With the cool water ’s noise to h e ar i n rhymes And a wind warm ed m e full o f furze and limes An d all h ot sweets the h eavy summer ﬁlls

- To th e round bri m o f smooth cup sh apen hills .

’ Next the grave w alking o f a wom an s feet

M ade my veins hesitate , and gracious h eat M ade thick th e lids and leaden on mine eyes w And I thought ever , surely it were i se ? Not yet to se e her : thi s m ay l ast ( w ho knows ) Five minutes ; th e poor rose is twice a rose

f e Because it turns a ac to her , th e wind

w a S ings that y ; hath this wom an ever si nned ,

? - I wonder as a boy with apple rind ,

2 9 0

T H E T W O D R E A M S

An d noises o f the noon whose weigh t still grew

- On th e hot h eavy headed ﬂowers , and drew Their red mouths open till th e rose -heart ached ; For eastward all th e crowding rose w as sl aked An d sooth ed with sh ade : but westward all its growth S eemed to breathe h ard with h e at as a m an doth f hi f Who eel s s temples newly everous . And even with such motion i n h er brows

AS b ath th at m an in whom sick d ays begin ,

S h e turned her thro at and spake , her voi ce being thin ’ A s a sick m an s , sudden an d tremulous ; if S weet , this end be come i ndeed on us ,

n Let us love more ; a d hel d his mouth with hers . As the ﬁrst sound o f ﬂoode d hill -waters

o f - a Is heard by people th e meadow gr ss , O r ever a wandering wai f o f rui n pass With whirling stones and foam o f the brown stre am Fl ake d with ﬁ erce yello w : so beholding hi m f f S he elt be ore tears came h er eyelids wet , f f S aw th e ace deadly thi n wh ere li e was yet , ’ Heard his th roat s h arsh l ast moan be fore it clomb

And he , with close mouth passionate and dumb , so Burned at h er lips l ay they without speech ,

o f Each grasping other , and th e eyes each ’ Fed i n the other s face : till suddenly H e cried out with a littl e broken cry

0 . Th is word help m e , sweet , I am but dead o f f And even so saying , the colour air red ’ Was o f f gone out his ace , and his blood s beat

2 9 2 T H E T W O D R E A M S

f Fell , an d stark death m ade sh arp his upward eet

An d pointed h ands : and without moan h e died .

Pain smote her sudden i n the brows and side , Strained he r lips open and m ade burn h er eyes For the pure sh arpness o f her miseries ’ ’ S he had no heart s pain , but mere body s wrack ; But at the last her beaten blood drew b ack f S lowly upon her ace , and her stunned brows Suddenly grown aware and piteous

Gathered th emselves , her eyes shone , her h ard breath Cam e as though one nigh dead came back fro m death ;

f . H er lips throbbed , and li e trembled throu g h her h air And in brief while she thought to bury there The dead m an that h er love might lie with hi m I n a sweet bed under th e rose — roots dim f - And so t earth round the branched appl e trees ,

o f Full hushed he at and heavy with great ease ,

An d no m an e ntering divide him then ce . Wh erefore she bade one o f her h andm aidens

To be her help to do upon this wise . And say ing so th e tears out o f h er eyes Fell without noise and comforted her heart o f Yea , her great pain eased the sorest part

Began to soften in her sense o f it . Th ere under all the littl e branches sweet Th e pl ace w as sh apen o f hi s burial f They Shed thereon no thing unereal , o f - But coloured leaves latter rose blossom , o f f S tems so t grass , some withered red and some

2 93 T H E T W O D R E A M S

Fair and ﬂ e sh-blooded ; and spoil splendider f O m arigold and gr e at spent sunﬂower . And a fterward s he came back without word

To her own house ; two days went , and the third

f o f . Went , and sh e showed her ather this thing ’ And fo r gre at grie f o f her soul s travailing H e gave consent she should e ndure in peace f ’ Till her li e s e nd ; ye a , till her ti me shoul d ce ase ,

S he shoul d abide i n fellowship o f pa i n . ' And h aving live d a h oly ye ar or t w ai n

S he died o f pure w aste heart and we ariness . ’ ’ And fo r love s honour i n her love s distress This word was written over her tomb ’s head

fo r is . Here dead she lieth , whose sake Love dead

2 94

A H O L I B A H

And round the edges o f thy cup o f Men wrought thee marvels out gold , f S trong sn akes with lean throats li ted up ,

Large eyes whereon the brows h ad hold ,

And scaly things their sli me kept cold .

For thee they blew so ft wind in ﬂutes An d ground sweet roots f o r cunning scent ;

o f Made slow because m any lutes , Th e wind among thy ch ambers went

Wherei n no light w as violent .

God calle d thy n am e Aholibah ,

Hi s tabern acle being in thee , A witness through waste Asia ; Thou wert a tent sewn cunningly

With gold and colours of th e se a .

God g ave thee gracious ministers And all their work who pl ait and we ave Th e cu nnin g o f embroiderers

se w Th at the pillow to the sleeve ,

An d likeness o f all things that live .

Thy garments u pon thee were fair With scarlet an d with yellow thread ; Also th e we aving o f thi ne h ai r

as Was ﬁne gol d upon thy head ,

And thy silk shoes were sewn with red .

2 96 A H O L I B A H

l f Al sweet things he bade si t , and ground As a m an g rin de thwheat in mills With strong wheels alway going round ;

H e gave thee corn , an d grass th at ﬁlls

The cattle on a thousan d hills .

Th e wine o f m any seasons fe d f Thy mouth , and m ade it air an d cle an ; S w eet oil w as poured out on thy head And ran down like cool rai n between

The strait close locks it melted i n .

Th e strong men and th e captains knew Thy ch ambers wrought and fashioned With gol d and coveri ng o f blue An d th e blue raiment o f thine h ead

Who s atest on a stately bed .

All these had on their garments wrought

o f The shape beasts an d creeping things ,

The body th at availeth not , o f Fl at backs worms and veined wings ,

An d the lewd bulk th at sleeps and stings .

o f Also the chosen the years ,

The multitude being at ease , With sackbuts and with dulcimers And noise o f sh awms and psalteries

M ade mirth within the ears o f these .

2 9 7 A H O L I B A H

as But a com mon wom an doth , Thou didst think evil and devise ; The sweet smell o f thy bre ast an d m outh ’ Thou m adest as th e harlot s wise , a n An d th ere w s painting o thi ne eyes .

- Yea , i n th e woven guest ch amber And by the p ainted passages

Where the strange gracious pai ntings were , o f State upon state companies ,

There came o n thee the lust o f th ese .

Because o f sh apes on either w all S ea -coloured from som e rare blue shell

At m any a Tyri an i nterval ,

o n Horsem en horses , girdled well ,

Delicate an d desirable ,

Thou saidest : I am sick o f love

ﬂ a o n s f Stay m e with g , com ort m e With appl es fo r my pai n th ereof Till my han ds g ath er i n his tree

That fruit wherei n my lips would be .

Yea , s aidest thou , I will go u p Wh en there is no more sh ade th an

May cover with a h ollow cup , An d m ake my bed against the su n

’ Till my blood s violen ce be done .

2 98

A H O L I B A H

0 Even he , thou Aholibah , f Made separate rom thy desire , S h all cut thy nose an d e ars away ’ And bruise th ee fo r thy body s hire

And burn th e residue with ﬁre .

Then shall the heathen peopl e s ay The multitude being at ease ;

Lo , thi s i s th at Aholibah w as m Whose name blown a ong strange seas , ‘l Grown ol d with soft adulteries .

o f Also her bed was made green , Her windows beauti ful f o r gl ass Th at she h a d m ade her bed betwee n

fo r Yea , pure lust h er body was

- Made like white su mmer colou red grass .

’ Her rai ment was a strong m an s spoil ; Upon a table by a bed S h e set mine incense and mine oil To be the beauty o f her he ad

I n ch ambers walled about with red .

Also between th e walls s he h ad Fair faces o f strong men portrayed ;

All girded round the loins , and clad With several cloths o f wove n brai d

And garments m arvellously m ade .

3 00 A H O L I B A H

Therefore th e wrath o f God shall be S et as a watch upon her way ; And wh oso ﬁ n de thby the se a Blown dust o f bones will h ardly s ay

If this were th at Aholibah .

3 0 1 L O V E A N D S L E E P

YING asleep between the strokes o f night

s aw sad I my love le an over my bed , Pale as th e duskiest lily ’s l eaf or head - r S mooth skinned and dark , with ba e throat m ade to bite ,

w an fo r fo r Too blushing an d too w arm white ,

- But perfect coloured without white or red .

And her lips opened amorously , and said

— I wist not wh at , savin g one word Delight . f And all h er ace was honey to my mouth , And all her body pasture to min e eyes ;

The long lithe arm s an d h otter hands th an ﬁre ,

o f Th e quivering ﬂanks , h air smelling the south , f Th e bright light eet , the splendid supple thighs ’ And glittering eyelids o f my soul s desire .

3 0 2

M A D O N N A M I A

’ fo r M ade some great queen s h ead , S ome fair great queen since dead ; And one strait gown o f red

Against the cold .

Beneath her eyelids deep

Love lying seem s asleep , f Love , swi t to wake , to weep ,

To l augh , to gaze ; ’

Her breasts are like white birds , And all her gracious words As water-grass to herds

- In th e June days .

To her all dews th at fall And rain s are musical ;

fe d f H er ﬂowers are rom all , H er joy from th ese ; I n the deep - feathered ﬁrs

f o f o Their gi t j y is hers , I n the least bre ath that stirs

Across th e trees .

S he grows with greenest leaves ,

Ripens with reddest sheaves ,

Forgets , remembers , grieves , And is not s ad ; The quiet l ands and skies Leave light upon her eyes ;

3 0 4 M A D O N N A M I A

None knows her , weak or wise ,

Or tired or glad .

n None knows , one understands , What ﬂowers are like her h ands ; Though you Shoul d search all lands

Wherein ti me grows , f Wh at snows are like her eet , Though his eyes burn with heat

Through gazing on my sweet ,

Yet no m an knows .

Only this thing is said ;

That white and gol d and red , ’ f ’ God s three chie words , m an s bread Oil And and wine ,

fo r Were given her dowers , o f And kingdom all hours , And grace o f goodly ﬂowers

An d various vine .

This is my l ady ’s praise God after m any days w Wrought her in unknown ays , I n sunset lands ; This was my l ady ’s birth God gave her might and mirth And l aid his whol e sweet earth

Between her h ands .

3 05 M A D O N N A M I A

Under deep appl e-bou ghs My l ady hath her house S h e wears upon h er brows Th e ﬂower thereof ; All sayin g but wh at God saith To her i s as vain breath

S h e i s more strong th an death ,

Being strong as love .

3 0 6

T H E K I N G ’ S D A U G H T E R

The ni nth had gold work round her hai r , Fallen ﬂowers in the mill-water ; f The tenth may was goodly and air , f ’ Golden gloves o r the ki ng s daughter .

We were ten m aidens in a ﬁel d green , Fallen fruit i n the mill - water ;

Fairer m aidens never h ave been ,

Golden sleeves fo r the kings daughter .

’ By there comes the kin g s young son , A little wind i n the mill -w ater ; ’ o f Out ten m aidens ye ll grant m e one , ’ A crown o f red fo r the king s daughter .

f ’ Out o ten m ays ye ll give me the best , A little rai n in the mill -water ;

o f for A bed yellow straw all the rest , ’ A bed o f gol d fo r the ki ng s daughter .

’ ’ He s ta en out the goodliest , Rain th at rains in the mill -water ;

o f fo r A comb yellow shell all the rest , ’ A comb o f gold fo r the king s daughter .

’ He s made her bed to the goodliest , Wind and h ail in the mill - water ;

fo r A grass girdle all th e rest , ’ A girdle o f arms fo r th e kin g s daughter .

3 08 T H E K I N G ’ S D A U G H T E R

’ He s set his heart to the goodliest , S now that snows i n the mill -water ;

fo r Nine little kisses all the rest , ’ An hundredfold fo r the king s daughter .

’ ’ He s ta en his leave at the goodliest , Broken boats in the mill -water ;

f fo r Golden gi ts all the rest , ’ Sorrow o f he art fo r the king s daughter .

’ fo r f Ye ll m ake a grave my air body , Running rain i n the mill — water ; ’ o f And ye ll streek my brother at the Side me , ’ The pain s o f hell fo r the king s daughter .

3 09 A F T E R D E A T H

HE four boards o f the cofﬁn lid

H eard all the dead man did .

The ﬁrst curse was in his mouth , ’ Made o f grave s mould and deadly drouth .

w as Th e next curse i n his head , ’ Made o f God s work disco m ﬁte d .

his The next curse was i n hands ,

- Made out o f two grave b ands .

f The next curse was in his eet ,

- Made out o f a grave sheet .

“ f I had air coins red and white , An d my n ame w as as great light ;

f I h ad air cloth es green and red ,

And strong gol d bound roun d my head .

m But no eat comes i n my mouth , Now I fare as the worm doth ;

And no gol d binds i n my h air ,

Now I fare as the blind fare .

3 1 0

A F T E R D E A T H

o f Your son has gotten a coat silk ,

The sleeves are soft a s curded milk .

Your m aid h as gotten a kirtle new ,

All th e skirt has braids o f blue .

Your m an has gotten both ring and glove , ” Wrought well fo r eyes to love .

“The dead m an answered thus ” What good gift Shall God give us ?

Th e boards answered him anon

i : ’ t Flesh to hell s worm upon .

3 1 2 M A Y JA N E T

( B RETON )

4 TAND up , stand up , thou May J anet ,

And go to the wars with me .

’ ' He s drawn her b y b othhands

With her face against the sea .

’ shall athe r H e that strews red g white ,

He that sows white reap red , Before your face and my daughter ’s

- Meet i n a m arriage bed .

Gold coin sh all grow i n the yellow ﬁeld , se a- Green corn in the green water , ’ f u o f And red r it grow the rose s red , ” Ere your fruit grow i n her .

a But I sh ll have her by l and , h e said ,

S e a Or I Sh all h ave h er by , Or I sh all have her by strong treason

And no grace go with me .

3 1 3 M A Y J A N E T

f ’ Her ather s drawn her by both h ands , ’ f H e s rent h er gown rom her , ’ ’ H e s ta en the smock round h er body ,

- C ast i n the s e a w ater .

The captain ’s drawn h er by both sides Out o f th e fair green sea ;

S tand up , stan d up , thou May J anet ,

An d come to the war with me .

Th e ﬁrst town they cam e to There w as a blue bride -ch amber ; He cloth ed h er on with ‘silk

And belted her with amber .

The second town they came to Th e bridesmen feasted knee to knee ;

H e cloth ed h er on with silver ,

A stately thing to see .

The third town they cam e to The brides m aids all h ad gowns o f gol d ;

H e clothed her on with purple ,

A rich thing to behold .

The l ast town they came to

H e clothed her white and red , With a green ﬂag either side O f her

And a gol d ﬂag overhead .

3 1 4

T H E B L O O D Y S O N

o f And where gat ye th ae Sleeves red , s o n ? My merry , come tell m e hither An d where gat ye thae sleeves o f red ? And I wot I h ae but anither

ae - I h ave sl ai n my brither by th e weary water head , ” O dear mith er .

And wh ere will ye gang to m ak your m end ,

so n ? My merry , com e tell m e hith er And wh ere will ye g ang to m ak y Our mend ? And I w o t I hae not anither

w arldis w arldis Th e way , to the end , ” 0 dear mither .

f An d wh at will ye leave your ather dear ,

so n ? My merry , com e tell m e hith er And wh at will ye leave your father de ar ? ” An d I wot I h ae not anither . f The wood to ell and the logs to bear , ’ For he ll never see my body mair , ” O dear mither .

And wh at will ye l eave your mither dear ,

so n ? My m erry , come tell me hith er An d wh at will ye leave your mither dear ? ” And I w o t I hae not anither .

The wool to card and th e wool to wear ,

’ se e For ye ll n ever my body m air , ” O dear mith er .

3 1 6 T H E BL O O D Y S O N

fo r f And wh at will ye leave your wi e to take ,

so n ? My merry , come tell me hither ? And wh at will ye leave for your wife to take ” And I wot I h ae not anither . f A goodly gown and a air new m ake , ’ ’ fo r For she ll do n ae m air my body s sake , ” 0 clear mither .

f And what will ye leave your young son air ,

so n ? My merry , come tell me hither An d what will ye leave your young son fair ? ” And I w o t ye h ae not anither .

- fo r A twiggen school rod his body to bear , ’ Though it garred him greet he ll get n ae m air ,

0 clear mither .

And wh at will ye l eave your little daughter sweet , ? My merry son , come tell m e hith er And w hat will ye leave your little daughter sweet ? ” And I w ot ye h ae not anither .

fo r Wild mulberries her mouth to eat , ’ S he ll get nae m air though it garred her greet , ” 0 clear mither .

’ f ro am in And when will ye come back rae , so n ? My merry , come tell me hither ’ And when will ye come back frae ro am in ? ” And I w o t I h ae not anither .

o f When the sunrise out the north is comen , ” O dear mith er .

3 1 7 T H E B L O O D Y S O N

When sh all th e sunrise on th e north side be , ? My merry son , come tell m e hith er When sh all the sunrise on the north side be ? ” And I w o t I hae not anither .

- When chuckie stanes sh all swi m i n the sea ,

0 dear mither .

When Sh all stanes i n th e se a swi m ,

so n ? My merry , come tell m e hither When shall stanes i n the sea swim? ” And I w o t I h ae not anither . W ’ f hen birdies eathers are as lead therein , ” 0 clear mither .

f When sh all eathers be as l ead ,

so n ? My merry , com e tell me hither When sh all feathers be as le ad ?

And I w o t I h ae not anither . Wh en God sh all judge between the quick

0 de ar mither .

3 1 8

T H E S E A - S W A L L O W S

Or wh at will ye get my son to we ar , Red rose le aves will never m ake wine ? ” ’ w e b o f A weed and a nettle s h air , ’ The ways are sair fra the Till to the Tyne .

Or wh at will ye take to line his b e d Red rose le aves will never make wine ? ’ k irk w all s Two bl ack stones at the head , ’ The ways are sair fra th e Till to the Tyne .

so n fo r Or what will ye give my l and , Re d rose leaves will never m ake wine ? ” ’ o f Three girl s paces red sand , ’ The ways are sair fra the Till to the Tyne .

fo r O r wh at will ye give m e my son , Re d rose leaves will never m ake wine ? ”

S ix ti mes to kiss his young mouth on , ’ The ways are sair fra the Till to the Tyne .

- But wh at h ave ye done with th e bearing bread , And wh at h ave ye m ade o f the washing -wine ?

- O r where h ave ye m ade your be aring bed , ? To be ar a son i n th e sides o f Tyne

- is f The be aring bre ad so t and new , There i s n o soil i n the straining wine ;

The bed was m ade betwee n green and blue ,

I t stands full so ft by the sides o f Tyne .

3 2 0 T H E S E A - S W A L L O W S

f - Th e air grass was my bearing bread , The well -water my washing -wine

- The low leaves were my bearing bed ,

And that w as best in the Sides o f Tyne .

if O daughter , ye h ave done this thing , I wot the greater grief is min e ; - This was a bitter child bearing ,

When ye were got by the sides o f Tyne .

About the time o f se a-swallows

f six That ﬂy ull thick by and nine , ’ o f Ye ll h ave my body out the house ,

To bury me by the sides o f Tyne .

fo r S et nine stones by the wall twain , Red rose le aves will never m ake wine b e d For the I take will m e asure ten , ’ fr The ways are sair a the Till to the Tyne .

’ fo r Tre ad twelve girl s paces out three , Red rose leaves will never m ake wine

For the pit I m ade has taken me , ’ The ways are sair fra the Till to the Tyne .

3 2 1 T H E Y E A R O F L O V E

f H ERE were our loves that one by one ,

Followin g the seasons and th e sun , f Passed over without te ars , and ell

Away without farewell .

w as o f The ﬁrst m ade gol d an d tears ,

o f - f The next aspen le aves and ears , o f - - The third rose bough s and rose roots ,

The last love O f strange f ruits .

These were the four loves faded . Hol d S ome minutes fast th e time o f gol d Whe n our lips e ach w ay clung and clove f f To a ace full o love .

The tears inside our eyelids met , f w e t Wrung orth with kissing , and wept The faces cle aving e ach to e ach

Where the blood served fo r speech .

Th e secon d , with low patient brows Bound under aspen -coloure d boughs And eyes m ade strong and grave with sleep And yet too we ak to weep

3 2 2

D E D I C A T I O N

’ se a HE gives her shells to the shingle , The e arth gives her streams to th e se a ; f Th ey are m any , but my gi t i s single ,

ﬁ r fr i f st u ts o . My verses , the me f Let th e wind take the green and the grey lea , C ast forth without fruit upon air ; T ake rose -le af and vine-leaf and bay -leaf

Blown loose from th e hair .

The ni ght sh akes th e m rou nd me in legions , Dawn drives them be fore her like dre ams ;

Time sheds the m like snows on strange regions , Swept shoreward on inﬁnite stre ams ; Le aves pallid and sombre and ruddy Dead fruits o f the fugitive years ;

S ome stai ned as with wine and m ade bloody ,

And some as with te ars .

’ Some scattered i n seven years traces , A s they fell from the boy th at was then ;

3 2 4 D E D I C A T I O N

f Long le t among idle green pl aces , Or gathered but now among men ;

f o f On seas ull wonder an d peril , Blown white round the capes o f th e north ; Or i n isl ands where myrtles are sterile v

And loves bring not forth .

“ 1 0 daughters o f dreams an d o f stories f o f That li e is not wearied yet ,

Faustine , Fragoletta , Dolores ,

Felise an d Yolande and Juliette ,

S hall I ﬁnd you not still , shall I miss you ,

When sleep , that is true or th at seems ,

Comes b ack to me hopeless to kiss you , 0 daughters o f dreams ? J

They are past as a slumber that passes , As th e dew o f a dawn o f old time ; f More rail than the sh adows on glasses ,

More ﬂeet th an a wave or a rhyme . f As th e waves a ter ebb drawing seaward ,

f o f When their hollows are ull th e night , S O the birds th at ﬂew singing to me — w ard

' Re c e de o ut o f sight .

o f The songs dead seasons , th at wander On wings Of articul ate words ;

- Lost leaves th at th e shore wi nd m ay squander , Li g ht ﬂocks o f untameabl e birds ;

3 2 5 D E D I C A T I O N

S ome sang to m e dreami ng in cl ass -time And tru ant i n han d as i n tongue ; ’ o f For th e youngest were born boy s pastime ,

The eldest are young .

IS f there shelter while li e in th em lingers ,

fo r I s there hearing songs that recede , Tunes tou ched from a harp with m an ’s ﬁngers Or blown with boy ’s mouth In a reed ?

o f I s there pl ace I n the l and your l abour ,

Is r O f th ere oom in your world delight , Where ch ange has not sorrow f o r neighbour And day h as not night ?

s e a- I n their wi ngs though the wind yet quivers , Will you spare not a space fo r th em there Made green with th e running o f rivers An d gracious with temperate air ;

I n th e ﬁelds and the turreted cities , That cover from sunshine an d rain Fai r passions and bou ntiful pities And loves without stain ?

f I n a l and o clear colours and stories ,

o f I n a region sh adowless hours , Wh ere earth has a g arment o f glories And a murmur o f mu sical ﬂowers ; I n woods wh ere the spring h al f uncovers

o f f The ﬂush her amorous ace ,

3 2 6

D E D I C A T I O N

Though the m any lights dwindle to one light , There is h elp if the heaven h as one ; Though the skies be discrowned o f the sunlight

o f sun And the earth dispossessed the ,

fo r I: Th ey h ave moonlight and sl eep repayment , f se t f When , re resh ed as a bride and ree ,

s se a- With tars and winds i n her rai ment ,

Night sinks on the sea . APPENDIX

N O T E TO L A U S V E N E R I S

R LA O T ANS TI N .

e n am e nte d he w e e n : A as m o st un a and accurse d s nn e r Th l pi g l , h ppy i t at am in t at s a n e v e r s e e the c e m e nc and m e rc o f m h I , h I h ll l y y y

G No w w o o rt and de m s e t n Mount o rs e im lo r~ o d. w ill I g f h hi y lf i hi H l , p in m sw e e t ad Ve nus f o r av o ur an d o v n m e rc f o r w n w o u d g y l y f l i g y , illi gly l I b o v n n to o r ere e nde t all m de eds o f e f re e r c o de m e d h e ll f her lo v e . H h y ’ rm s n n in A as t at m ad s ac e an d he r e es w e re a a d my sw e e t si g g . l h y l y f y b e aut u an t at in an unf o rtunate m o m e nt sa t e m e n e n t to o d w . w if l , h I h Th he o rt s n an d re turn e d to he r an d dw e t sad in the re s enc e Of his f h ighi g , l ly p d e t ass n o v e An a t r t c m to ass t at a d w a sur . d erwa ds i a e l y , fill i h p i g l f p h o n e day the p o p e s aw m any re d an d w hite flow e rs an d l e a -b u ds s pri ng [ f o rt ro m hi b st ns an all t out b o o m n o that he e are d s a o , d w e d a e w . S f h f i i h l , f re at an d b e n muc m o v e d t e reb w as e d w t re at t f o r the g ly , i g h h y fill i h g pi y Ch e vali e r w ho had go ne fo rt h h o pe l ess lik e unto a m an fo re v e r dam n e d an d m s e rab e A nd stra twa s e nt he numb er ss m ss e n e rs to him to i l . igh y l e e g b r n him b ack sa n t at he s o u d rece v e race and ab s o u t o n ro m i g , yi g h h l i g l i f Go d f o r t in o f o v But n e s e e n f o r the s his s o re at s e . v e rmo re as he , hi g l w ;

o o r C e v a e r dw e t o rev e r n ear unto Ve nus t at m o st and m t p h li l f , h high igh y G o dde ss in the b o s o m o f the am o ro us m o unta n , i .

3 3 2 I I.

T T T L R N O E O H E EP E .

N c e te mps-la e s to yt dans ce p ays grand no mbre de l adre s

e t de m e se aulx c e o le ro e ut de s laisir v e n , d nt y grand p ,

ue u u n r m ri f m n r o c e il q Die d st e e st e oult g e ve e t c ou r u é . Or s ’ advint qu un e no ble dam o yselle appe lée Yo l ande de Salliere s e stan t atte in c te e t o uasté e de c e a m al o se s t uste g vil in , t us amys e t se s pare ns ayant devant l eurs yeux la pao ur de Dieu la ﬁre n t issir fo rs de l e urs m aiso ns e t o n c qu e s n e voulure n t re ce pvo ir n i re co nfo rte r c ho se m auldicte de Di eu e t a tous le s ’ o mm a e e t a m na C e am e avo t e m o h es pu nt bho i ble . ste d y est ult

e e t a e de o m e e t de so n o e e sto t ar e bell gr ci use f r s , c rps lle y l g ’ e t de vie e P o a n ul de s am a l avo e n t lasciv . urt nt ns qui y ’ so uve ntesfo is acco ll e e e t b aisé e m o ult tendre ment n e vo ulust

u h r h re ss pl s éb e ger si l aide fe mm e e t Si dete stab le pe sc e e . Ung se ul c l erc qui fe ut p re m iere m en t son lacquays e t so n ’ e ntre metteur e n m atiere d am our la recut chez luy e t la ré cé la a un e e a a La m o la m e schin e tte a d ns p tite c b ne . urut de gr nde misere e t de m al e m ort : e t apres e ll e dé c éda le dist c l e rc qui ’ o am o l avo t six m o u a o e a e p ur grand ur y is d r nt s igné , l vé , ’ ’ hab ille e h il e t de s ab le e tous le s j o urs de se s m ains pro pres . Mesme dist-o u que ce m e sch ant ho mm e e t m auldict c lerc se ’ ’ re mé m ouran t de la grande bean te p assee e t guasté e de ce ste femm e se dé le ctoyt m ain te sfo is a la b aise r sur sa bouche orde ’ e t e lépr us e e t l accoller do ulce me n t de s e s mains am oureuse s . Auss e st-il m C e c y ort de ceste m e sme maladie abh o m in ab l e . y a e Fo ntain e e llan n a in i Et a d o u t le dvint pr s b t e G st o s . qu n y ro ill y Philippe ceste adventure moult e n e stoyt e sm erve é .

ra n d s /zron i ues de F rance I 0 . G e C g , 5 5

Q 3 3 3 N O T E T O T H E L E P E R

RA LA O T N S TI N .

No w in th e s e tim e s th e re w e re w i thi n the l and a gre at numb e r o f le p

ro us an d d s e as e d e rso ns w e re at the K n w as re at d s e as e d i p , h i g g ly i pl , s nc e r e vo us an d r w o u b e the rat o f Go t re No it i g i di e ld w h d h e at. w c ance d t at a e nt e w o m an o f n o b e b rt Yo an de de Salliere s b nam e h h g l l i h , l y , b e n attack e d an d co nsu m e d w t t s o at so m e m a ad he r ri e nds and i g i h hi l h l y, f k n dre d av n the e ar o f Go d b e o re t e r e e s did t rus t he r o ut o f t e r i , h i g f f h i y , h h i h o m es and n o n e w h ats o e v e r w e re w illi n g to re li e v e o r succ o ur a thi n g s o accu rse d o f Go d an d so o en s v e an d ab o rre d o f m an s ad had ff i h . Thi l y b e e n m o st b e au t f u and rac o u s o f o rm o f no b e statu re an d asc v o us i l g i f , l l i i i e Ye t no n o f h r o v e rs ho a o rm e r s o t n r ss e d he r so l f . e e l w h d f ly ugh a d ca e o te n an d s o te n de r n o w c are d to arb o u r s o de o us a cre ature and so f ly , h hi v e a s nn e r O ne o n a c e rk w ho had o rm e r b e e n he r ac ue and il i . ly , l , f ly l q y n te rm e d ar in o v e af a rs av e s e te r un to he r and o d e d he r w t n a i i y l f i , g h l l g i hi s ma cab n e re d e d t s m se rab e o u tcas t o f an e v de at : an d ll i . Th i hi i l , il h a t e r he r d e d the sa d c e rk who f o r s ix m o nt s had c are d fo r he r w as f i i l , h , h in dre ss n an d u n dre s s n he r w t his o w n an ds da fo r his re at g, i g i g i h h ily , g ’ ’ o v e s s ak e A n d m o re o v e r tw as s a d t s w ck e d m an t s accurs e d l . i hi i , hi c e rk re ca n he rw o n dro us b e au t no w v an s e d and dec a e d did l , lli g y , i h y , o tt m e s av s k ss e s o n he r o u e ro us m o ut and o n d e he r te nde r f i l i h i f l , l p h f l ly w t his amo ro u s an ds S o e d he k ew s e o f t s sam e o at so m e i h h . di li i hi l h

s s ino is A n d d e ase An d t s c am e to ass n e ar Fo n tain eb ellan t in Ga t . i . hi p K n r t w en P e ard t s ta e m uc he m arv e e d t e e a . h i g hilip h hi l , h ll h

‘ ’ The La V e e f f e e e o f us en ris , its l su ﬁci ntly ind p ndent

m e a a a a in o ld F o to od ls , is pref ced by p ragr ph rench purp rting ‘ ’ b e e om a L e de s G M e d Amo ur extract d fr ivr randes erveill s ,

e c e n La e t e n Fran o s ar M a e A o C a s ript tin g y p istr nt ine get, w b ut which w e conﬁd e ntly f ather upo n Mr . S inburne ‘ m e a o w the a o m the G a C o hi s lf , l ng ith extr ct fr r ndes hr niques ‘ ’ de F e e e to The L and the G ranc , app nd d eper, reek ‘ ’ ‘ ’ h m o o L . e o m An h. ac a e t A lin s fr t S . t t s rve as ott itany ’ Sw in b urne s P ems a nd llads Criticism b William o B a . A y

M ieb ael Rossetti 1 L o , p . 3 . ( ond n ,

3 34

L R C EO PAT A .

H er b eaut m t o u t ace the ea o us o u rs y igh f j l h , urn s am e to o v e an d a n to a tender s e e T h l p i l p , And the stro ng n e rve o f h ate to sl o th an d t e ars ;

Mak e s r n re b e ous in the s des o f ro st p i g lli i f , rust o ut ank w n ter w t ho t Au ust ro wt s Th l i i h g g h , C o m e sw e et b o o d nto the usk s o f de at p l l i h h , And r m tr a t en o r e r f o s ang e b e s s f c h arsh cou te sy .

. HAYMAN Fall o An ton 1 6 T , f y , 55.

ER m a as a H outh is fr grant vine, A vine with birds in all its b oughs ; Serpe nt an d scarab for a sign Be tween the beauty of her brows An he mo o e d t a r us d ep lids divine .

He r gre at curl e d h air make s lumino us

H e r e e he r e d o and c ch ks , lift thr at hin . Shall she n ot have the he arts o f us To a e an d the o e e sh tt r, l ves th r in To she d betwe en he r ﬁngers thus ?

Sm a o of ll ruined br ken strays light, P e arl after pearl She shreds them through

3 3 5 C L E O P A T R A

He r w e e w long s eet sl py ﬁngers, hite ’ A an e e a e e w s y p arl s h rt v in d ith blue ,

n w n a A d soft as de o soft night .

IV .

As if the very eyes o f love S o e o he r n an d h n thr ugh shutti g lids, X The sl o w l o oks of a Sn ake or do ve ; As if he r lips absorb e d the who le h r o Of o e . l ve , s ul the soul thereof

L all a w ost, the lordly pearls th t ere ’ W o m the e a e a m the rung fr s s h rt , fro green Co asts o f the Indian gulf-rive r ;

Lo all the e o f w — so st, lov s the orld keen

To w o f he r ards this queen for love .

VI .

Yo u se e against he r throat the sm all

Sharp glittering shado w s of. the m sh ak e ; x An d thro ugh he r h air the impe ri al C e e o f the e r e urled lik n ss riv snak ,

W hall m a an e n d f all ho s e bite s k e o .

VII .

T o the a e e a him e w hr ugh sc l s Sh thing lik ings ,

T ro e o o f o an d e m h ugh hi r gly phs g ld g ,

The o e e o f he r e a str ng s ns b uty stings ,

L e a e e o f o e in e m ik k n pulse l v th ,

A am ro u all hi running ﬂ e th gh s rings .

3 36

C L E O P A T R A

The asps an d w ater-w orms aﬂo at B e tween the rush-ﬂo we rs m o ist an d sl ack ; ’ The a w m a c t s ar bl ck bright rising throat .

XIII .

The purpl e d ays of dro uth expand Like a s cro ll o pe ne d o ut again ;

The m o e a a a lt n he ven drier th n s nd ,

The ho t re d he a w o ra ven ith ut in ,

S e o o n th m a h ds ir n pain e e pty l nd .

XIV .

’ All Egypt achesin the sun s sight ;

The o f m e n are a fo r lips h rsh drouth ,

The e air e a r w ﬁ rce l ves their cheeks bu nt hite , C a e the e o w o h rr d by bitt r bl ing s uth , o e m o a o Wh s dusty uth is sh rp t bite .

XV .

A h she am o f an d he r e ll t is dre s , yes

Ar w o a he e r ught fter t sens e h ereo f . The re is n o he art in he r fo r sighs ; The fac e o f he r is m ore th an l ove

A ame a o h P m e n b ve t e to le i s .

XVI .

He r gre at grave b e auty c ove rs he r As that sl e e k spo il b e ne ath he r fe e t Cloth e d o nce the an o inte d s o o thsaye r ; The h all o w ing is go ne fo rth fro m it

w m m f r w e ar No a e e e o e to . , d un t pri sts

3 3 8 C L E O P A T R A

XVII .

She o n o an d o d- e treads g ds g lik things ,

On an d e a an d e an d e a fate f r lif d th ,

On a e a c e ave an d o e h t th t l s l v that clings, ’ All th at is brought f orth of m an s bre ath

An d e w w a perish th ith h t it brings .

XVIII .

She o he r u e o e he r h lds fut r cl s , lips H o ld f ast the f ace of things to b e ; A m an d o o f w ar a ctiu , s und th t dips

D o w the w a the se a n blo n v lleys of , Far a ﬂe e an d o m o f s ils that , st r s ships ;

XIX .

The l aughing re d swe e t m outh o f w ine ’ At ending o f life s fe stival T a e o f e e o an d the ﬁn e h t Spic c r cl ths , White bitter dust funere al Sprinkled o n all things fo r a Sign ;

H e w ho w as an d w as n o t b e is fac , , ’ In w o m a e her life ab ode h , liv , ;

The e n d w e she a e e a to se e , h n g in d h rt T o e w a o f e at w e e she o h s ys d h h r in tr d ,

G o d e o d w A o . d ss by g , ith nt ny

B I B L I O G R A P H Y

N OTES O N P O EM S AN D REVIEW S .

I o n m o ar e . P B N tes o o e s an d Revie ws . y Algern n Ch l s

S w e Tw o uota tions rom I Frederic le Grand an d inburn . [ q f ( ) ,

2 Car l m e Lo d : o Ca e H o e P . ( ) ly ! n on J hn d n tt n , iccadilly

1 8 6 6 .

o l n : — - b ank re v e rs e C at o Octavo . 2 : co ns st n o f a t t e w t l i , pp 3 i i g H lf i l ( i h l )

— - “ . 1 2 t e a e wi t m r n t : Lo n do n : Sav an d Edwards pp ; Ti l p g ( h i p i ill ,

Pr nt ers C an do s tre e t C o v e nt G arden in the c en t re o f the i , h S , ,

— — - he rev e rs e . and e t . 2 . e re are n o e ad n es t ) pp 3 4 ; T x pp 5 3 Th h li ,

a m r p g e s b ei ng nu b e re d c e nt ally .

ssu e d s t tc e d an d wi t o ut w ra e rs . I i h , h pp

( S econ d E dition . )

I I o t n a ears u on the t e - a e o f t s — the se con d — ssu e . N hi g pp p Ti l p g hi i

ot on Po m s a n d ev i ws dis t n u s it ro m the F rst E t o n o f the N es e R e to i g i h f i di i . It m a ow e v e r b e e as re co n se d b the m r n t w c reads y, h , ily g i y i p i , hi h

~ Lo n do n : av Edw ards an d C o . Pr n te rs C ando s tre e t C o v en t / S ill , , i , h S , ” e re are in add t o n m an m no r m e c anica v ar a ns G arden . Th i i y i h l i ti o The re as o n f o r the ab se n c e o f an o t c at o n t at the th ro u gh o ut . y n iﬁ i h

n d dition s r a u f o tte n rin t p am phl e t is a S eco E i e dily acco n t e d o r. H p e d the rst e d t o n co n s st n it is b e e v e d o f 00 c o es an d du a d the ﬁ i i ( i i g , li , 5 pi ) ly p i

F n n th m an h o au th o r his ro yal ty up o n th e m . i di g e de d f o r t e b o k l et co nt nu e b e ro m t re r nte d it an d in o rder t o o b v ate the n e ce ss t of i p p ly p i ; , i i y a n the add t o n a ro a t su resse d the act t at he had ub s e d p yi g i i l y l y , pp f h p li h an o t e r e d t o n an d re rain e d ro m ac n the w o rds S econ d E dition u on h i i , f f pl i g p - The numb e r o r rint e the t t e a e . s e e d m ust ave b e n v e r ar e as u i l p g p h y l g , p t o l ast y e ar ( 1 89 5) the p am phl e t w as still p ro curab l e at the pub lis h e d p ri c e

3 43 B I B L I O G R A P H Y

o f O ne n ro m Me ss rs . C atto n dus su cc e sso rs to o n Shilli g f h Wi , J h

C am The b roc/znre is c o ns e ue n t O f no e cun ar v a u e de n H o tt e n . q ly p i y l

w ate ve r w st e am e s o f the enu n e rst ssu e are o f v er m uc h , hil x pl g i ﬁ i y h

re ater sc arc t t an is e n e ra su o se d m o st o f the co e s so d as g i y h g lly pp , pi l ” r n Fi rs t Edi ti o n s b e i ng in re ali ty sp eci m e n s o f the spu i o us se co d i ssu e .

The v ar at o n in the m r nt o w ev e r re m o v e s an d f cu t in dec d n i i i p i , h , y i ﬁ l y i i g

w e t e r an e am e b e a co o f t s s ur o us ssu e o r a e nu n e rin ce s . h h x pl py hi p i i , g i p p

d re se nt un ub s e d In a e tte r addre ss e d to Mr. . . se an at l ( T J Wi , p p li h ) Mr n urn e ha tte n the o o wi n re ard n t s an d o t e r m atte rs . Sw b s wr g i g hi , h , , i i f ll g am usi ng p arag raph reg ardi ng J o h n C am de n H o tte n

— The moral cbaracter of the war/by Mr. Hotten was I was

— H was a serviceable sort o about ve inaccuratel to sa ambi uous . e , ry y , y g , f

e ‘ llow in bis wa but decidedl w at Dr. o nson would bave called a shad f y , y h j h y ’ ‘ ’ W en I heard tb at b e bad died lot and Lord Chester eld a ram customer. , ﬁ h

o a szn eit o ork-cb o s I observed t at ibis was a serious ar ument a ainst f f f p p , h g g ’ my f riend Sir Richard Burton s views of canniba lism as a wb olesome and

natural method of diet.

II .

V RI LAU S EN E S .

B a e w . La Ve e . A C S I . us n ris y lgernon h rl s inburne 6 e 1 8 6 . Lo o : E w a M o o Co . D S . nd n d rd x n , over tr et

— - C o llatio n z O ctavo . 2 8 co n s st n o f a t t e w t b ank re v e rse , pp ; i i g H lf i l ( i h l ) 1 — 2 t e - a e as ab o v e w t m r nt Lo ndo n : Brad pp . ; Ti l p g , ( i h i p i ” — he ntre o f the b ur Evans an d C o . Pri n te rs te r ars in t ce y , , , , Whi f i ’ — s m Liv re dos ra n des m erveilles d am ou r re v e rs e . as a e ro ) , pp 3 4 ; p g f g ,

escri t en [a tin et en ra n o s a r {I/a istrc A n toin e Ca et. 1 0 p f g y p g 53 ,

— 2 Th e - n a u s t . 8 . e ad e is L . 6 is b ank an d e p . 5; p l ; T x pp 7 h li

' h a Ven eri s t ro u o ut o n b o t s de s O f t e e . h gh , h i p g

ssu e d in a n a e r w ra e rs O f v ar o us co o u rs . I pl i p p pp , i l

La us Ve n eris w as a s o n c ude d in Poem s a n d B a llads Mo o n 1 866 . l i l , x , , pp

— 1 1 0 an d has b e e n re ta n e d in e ac succ e e d n e d t o n . The am e t 3 . i h i g i i p phl ,

Mr w n b urn e has s tate d w as ssu e d so m e m o n t s re v o us to the ub ca . S i , i h p i p li

V r o es w e re r n te d m o st o f w c w e re t o n o f t at vo u m e . e f e w c i h l y pi p i , hi h “ ” “ it a a Mr. Sw nb u rn e d s tr b ute d am o n s t r v ate r e n ds . In c t s d i i g p i f i f , i i ,

3 44

B I B L I O G R A P H Y

’ V/zitc ria rs n th n tr o h i— n n o l i e c e e f t e re ve rse . D e d cat o T y , ) , pp ; i i

d dw ard u rn t — m Frien E B e wi b an k re v e rse . iv y h l , pp iii ;

C n n — vii v is a k an — o te ts . v . b n d e t . 1 e re are pp ; p iii l ; T x pp 3 44 . Th

- The m r n s e a h e ad li nes th ro ugh out . i p i t i r p e te d at the fo ot o f the Th o o k has n o a -t t e b e . l as t p ag e . h lf i l ssue d in re en stra t- ra n e d c o t b o ards e tte re d in i t acro ss the I g igh g i l h , l g l “ k : oem s ° B allads Sw in burn e Lon don M oxon b ac P 61 .

’ olt n I ss u ( H e s e .

Edward Mo xo n w as no t des ti n e d to re tai n f o r l o ng the h o n our o f pub lish

o m s a n d al a d H e w as re ndere d n e r ing the ﬁ rst seri es of P e B l s . vo us

unw se an d n e e d e ss n e rv o u s as the e ve n ro v e d b the u nreaso n n ( i ly l ly , tp ) y i g an d s te r ca cr t c sm ﬂun at the b o o k and the sto rm o f O o s t o n hy i l i i i g , pp i i

H re s ne d his m m s o f ts c nt ents . ro u ed b y c e rtai n i o e ig co issio n as Mr. ’ Sw nb urne s ub s e r an d a owe d the Poem s a n d B alla ds to e t e r w t i p li h , ll , g h i h

C/zastela rd and the ueen M olner a n d Rosam on d to as s nto the hands o f Q , p i J o h n C amde n Ho tte n ﬁ" ’ o tte n ro m t re ssu e d t e m av n cance e d Mo xo n s t t e- a e an d H p p ly i h , h i g ll i l p g ,

the b o o k w t o n e o f hi n s re ads as o o ws suppli e d i h s o w . Thi f ll

Po e m an d B a . B A e o e S w Lo n s llads y lg rn n Charl s inburne . hn 8 6 n z o m H P a . 1 do C 6 . /J a den otten , icc dilly

H o w m an co e s w e re s o co n ve rte d it is m o ss b e to sa b ut co e s o f y pi i p i l y, pi ’ ’ the o riginal sh e e ts wi th Mo xo n s o r wi thHo tte n s titl e -p ag es se e m to o c cur w t ab o u t e ua re u e n c a o wance b e m ade f o r the ar e numb e r o f i h q l f q y, if ll l g c o pi e s o f the S e co n d Edi ti o n w hi ch are i nco rrectly catal o gu e d and so l d as ’ ” ﬁ rst e diti o n wi th Ho tte n s ti tl e .

S econ d E dil/on ( .

The e m and f o r oe s a n d a lla ds r . d P m B m ust ave b e e n a r b r sk f o I I h f i ly i , b e fo re the cl o se o f the y ear the qui re s to ck re c e i ve d f ro m Mo xo n had b o m e e au s d an ha e c te d o tte n d re r nte d the w o rk . e re is ab so xh , H p i Th lute ly n o thi ng u p o n the f ac e of the vo l um e to di s ti ngui sh it fro m c o pi e s o f h ar e r s s e o o n t t a is a e n e t n T t - t e e u r t de o e t it s co d d o . he t e a e is li i , h i i i l p g

' a a e -szm ile o f the o ne p re pa re d b y H o tte n to acco mp an y the co pi e s in

h e n it is re me mb e re d th at so rece ntl as 1 8 : Mo o n had b ee n ro se cute d and W y 4 x p , ’ h e av il ﬁne d fo r ub l s h n h e ll e s ue e n Ma )l so me e c use ma b e fo und fo r his e tre me y , p i i g S y Q , x y x i i h m s a n alla ds c aut o n n t e matte r o f Poe d B .

3 46 B I B L I O G R A P H Y

— u re s he had re c e v ed ro m Mo o n w st the b o d o f the b o o k . 1 q i i f x , hil y , pp 3 44, i a n f o r n re r n t The e t re m nar a e s s a e f o r a e a d ne e . p g p g li li p i igh p li i y p g , o w e ve r di e r ro m t o se o f the e ar er ssu e and s o u d co ate as h , ff f h li i , h l ll fo ll o w s

- i— n t e - a e w t m r nt Lon H alf ti tl e ( with b l ank re v erse ) pp . ; Ti l p g ( i h i p i don n d in t rs /za n dos treet oven t : S a vill a d Edw a r s, Pr e , C S , C ” — D dication t Ga rden in the c e ntre o f the re v e rse . iv e wi , ) pp iii ; ( h

— — ank r s e v vi an d C o n ten ts . vii v . b l ever ) pp . ; pp iii

’ A no th e r mi n o r p o i nt b y w hi c h it is p o ssib l e to di sc e rn a copy of Ho tt en s ’ re r n t ro m an e am e m ade u ro m the o r na s e ets is t at Mo xo n s p i f x pl p f igi l h , h ’ o r n l r r E ns o m r n h a ssu e has B adb u va an d C . s t at t e o o t o f . igi i y , i p i f p 3 44, ’ he r o o f w st in Ho tten s e d t o n t s a e b ears n o m r nt . T a e a s hil i i hi p g i p i p p , l ,

the atte r is muc w t er and e av e r an d the co m e t e v o ume is t e re o re l h hi h i , pl l h f

k e r n th o r n a b o o k . o t st n t so m e 2 0 p er c e nt . thi c th a e igi l N wi th an di g h e se ’ var at ons o w e ve r Ho tte n s re r nt is co nstant no do ub t ro m no ranc e i i , h , p i ly ( f ig ’ up o n the p art o f the v e ndo r) b e ing o ff ere d as o rigi nal sh e e ts wi th Ho tten s ” titl e . “ Why H o tte n o mitte d to place the w o rds S econ d E dition upo n his

Th m a n o rep ri nt of Poem s a n d B alla ds it is im p o ssib l e to s ay. e o i ssi o n w s I is at o ve rsigh t ; H o tten w as f ar to o wi de aw ak e f o r th at to h app en . t l e ast Op en to suspi cio n th at the m o ti v e w hi ch pro m pte d the o m i ssi o n o f th es e wo rds from the titl e-p ag e of the s e co nd e diti o n of N otes on Poem s a n d Review s a so cause d t em to b e o m tted ro m the t t e - a e of Poem s , l h i f i l p g

a n d B allads .

/zird dition T E . )

Po m an d B a a B A e o C a S w e III . e s ll ds y lg rn n h rles inburn ’ [Pn blislzers device! A Ne w Editio n Lo ndo n Chatto an d 8 8 W P c 1 . indus , ic adilly 7 8 C o at o n C rown 8 vo . . ll i , pp ix 33 ’ ssu e d in dark b ue c o t t e ttered uni o rm w t Mr. Sw nb urn e s ate r I l l h , gil l , f i h i l

b o ok s .

irst American dition ( F E . )

A in 1 866 the e ar n t r t a ear n n IV. read i w c i s e d i Lo do n l y , y hi h ﬁ pp , Poem s an d B allads was re printe d in Am e ri ca u nde r the fo ll o wi ng titl e p age

3 47 B I B L I O G R A P H Y

Ve r an d o e Po e m an Ba a B A La e d . e us n is , th r s ll ds y lg r

n ar S w r e Ne w Yo a e o P u r n o C e . C e h l s inbu n rk rl t n , blish ,

B a wa Lo o M o M L 1 o . : o Co . CCC . 4 3 , r d y nd n x n D XVI

C o at o n C ro wn o c tavo . v 2 8 . ll i , pp iii 3

ss ue d in b ro wn c o t b o ards t e tte re d the e d e s o f the e a v es b e n I l h , gil l , g l i g

t ri mm ed an d co l o ure d dark b l ue .

The te x t is ide n ti c al wi th the Lo n do n e di ti o ns .

Why the b o o k w as p ub li s h e d u nde r the ab o ve ti tl e it is di fﬁ cul t to say . Po s sib ly the di scussio n rais e d b y La us Ve n eris h e re in Lo n do n had awak

e n e d c ur o s t in the tat e s an d the ub s e rs o o k e d to e c te a ar e r i i y S , p li h l x i l g s al e f o r th e i r b o o k b y di s ti nctly s h o wi ng t h at the c hi e f o ffe ndin g p o e m w as u e ro m its a s n o t e x cl d d f p g e .

r n c/t ra n sla tion ( F e T . )

Mo ure em e t e e V. G e P o B A C . abri l y s allad s d . S w inburn e N o te s s ur S winburne p ar Guy de M aup as ’ s ant [Pa blis/zer s device! Paris N o uve ll e Libraire Paris

e A e S E 1 2 rue de s P am 1 2 i nne lb rt avine , diteur , yr ides ,

1 To 1 8 9 us droits réservés .

C o at o n C ro wn 8 vo . v 2 . ll i , pp xx i 3 7

s su e d in e o w a e r w ra ers w t the t t e - a e re ro duc e d u o n t he I y ll p p pp , i h i l p g p p

iv o f the c o ve r f ro nt ; l e tte re d acro ss the b ack ; an d p . ﬁll e d wi th adve r

tis e m e n ts .

' Rossetti s riticism C .

In de ali ng w i th Poem s a n d B a lla ds the fo ll o wi ng b o o k mus t b e duly n o te d

’ S w e Po e m an d B a a A C m W m inburn s s ll ds . riticis by illia

u t ti n r /z e Mi ch ae l Ro sse tti . [Q o a o f om S ell y ﬂ Londo n : [Jo hn

m a . 1 C a e H o e P c 8 6 6 . A e e e d d n tt n , i c dilly [ ll rights r s rv !

Le t as ar a m om ent sto to tb c arbitration o ula b r at Let us assume tb at ome r f op f pop r e h. H

as a drunkard tb al Vir i l as a a tte rcr tb at orace as a c a d tb a t Ta w , g w ﬂ , H w ow r , sso w as a mad

e r n b at a i m an . Ob s v e i w l ud cro us cb aos tIJe imp utations of rea l o r ﬁctitio us crime hav e b een " u i n t r l conf sed b c conte mpom ) ca l um n i es ag a i nst poetry and Poets .

3 48

B I B L I O G R A P H Y

volume now be ore me on the understandin t at it contains an ot er letter f , g h y h

not containe d in a later issue the urc aser will nd imsel to be a du e ny , p h ﬁ h f p , and the ve ndor will know himself to be a swindler.

A . BU E C . SWIN RN .

D e spi te the ab o ve l e tte r ( p ro b ab ly in igno ran ce o f it) it is still b y no m e an s unusual fo r s e co nd-h and b o o k s e ll e rs to catal o gue the ﬁ rst e diti o n o f ’ the rst s er es o f Poem s a n d B alla ds w t Mo xo n s t t e - a e as co n ta n ﬁ i i h i l p g , i ” in o e m r s e in t r u s g p s s upp es d l a e iss e .

The fo rego i ng data are tak e n fro m A Con tribution to the B ibliog raphy of / F r he the lVrztin s o Al ern on ha rles w in burn e b o m as . se o t g f g C S y Th J Wi . e n ti re b ib li o g raphy s e e Litera ry A n ecdotes bf the Nin eteen th Cen tu ry :

iod E n t i uti n r r ted b . Co r b o s To wa rds a Litera y History of the Pe . di y W

Ro b er s n m Lo n o n Vo l. . P . se . d . t o Ni co ll an d Th o as J . Wi ( I I p 2 1 — 9 3 74 . INDEX POEMS

I N D E X T O P O E M S P A G E H E ND ECASYLLAB I CS H E RMAPH ROD I TU S H ESPE RIA HYMN TO PROSERPIN E V HUGO , T O IC TO R

I L I C E T

IN T E RLUD E , AN I TYLUS ’ K IN G S DAU G H T E R , T H E A EN TAT ION A L M ,

ANDO R I N E O RY OF WA T E R SAVAG E L , M M L LAUS V E N E RI S

EAV E -TA K ING A L , E PE R T H E L ,

I TANY A L , LO V E A ND SLE E P LOV E A T SE A MAD ONNA MIA

AS U E O F U EEN E R A B E T H E M Q Q B S ,

MAT CH , A MAY JANE T N O YAD ES E S , L

O R C HAR D , IN T HE

PH / E DRA

RO C O C O ‘ ' ’ RONDE L — l f iss ing he r ha ir ’ RONDE L Thes e m a ny y e a rs S T : DOROTHY SAPPH ICS I N D E X T O P O E M S

P AG E

SAT IA TE SANGUINE

SEA-SWA OWS TH E LL , S O N G B EFORE DEAT H

SON G IN T IME OF O RDE R , A

IN O F V L A SONG TIME RE O UTION , STAGE L O V E

SUNDEW , T H E

T RIUMPH O F T IME , T H E TW O D REAMS , T HE YEAR OF OVE T HE L ,