xi.

I would not seem too wilful in the heat Of our encounter, or with sighs repeat Too fierce a vow. I would throughout confess Thy murderous mirth, thy conquering loveliness, And then subdue thee! Tears would not avail Nor prayer, nor praise; and, flush'd the while or pale, Thou shouldst be mine, my hostage in the night, Without the option of a moment's bail.

xii.

Thou shouldst be mine! My hopes, from first to last, Would win their way; and, lithe and love-aghast, And all unnerv'd, thou wouldst, as in a dream Entreat my pardon! I would callous seem To thine out-yearning. I would cast on thee A questioning look, and then, upon my knee, I would surrender to that face of thine Which is the great world's wonder unto me.

xiii.

O Heaven! could this be done, and I fulfil One half my wish, and curb thee to my will, I were a prompter and a prouder man Than earth has known since light-foot lovers ran For Atalanta, lov'd of men and boys.

I were a kaiser then, a king of joys, And fit to play with high-begotten pomps As children play with pebbles or with toys.

xiv.

O Golden Hair! O Gladness of an Hour Made flesh and blood! O beauteous Human Flower Too sweet to pluck, and yet, though seeming-cold, Ordain'd to love! I pray thee, as of old, Be kind to me. I saw thee yesternight, And for an instant I was urged to plight My troth again; for in thy face I saw What seem'd a smile evoked for my delight.

xv.

Re-grant thy favour! Take me by the hand And lead me back again to thine own land, The nook supreme, the sanctum in the glen Where pixies walk,--unknown to peevish men And shrew-like women whom no faith uplifts!

Show me the place where Nature keeps the gifts She most approves, and where the song-birds dwell, And I'll forego the land of little thrifts.

xvi.

The moon is mother and the sun is sire Of those young planets which, with infant fire, Have late been found in regions too remote For quicklier search; and these, in time, will dote And whirl and wanton in the realms of s.p.a.ce.

For there are comets in the nightly chase Who see strange things untalk'd of by the bards; And earth herself has found a trysting-place.

xvii.

And so 'tis clear that sun and moon and stars Are link'd by love! The marriage-feast of Mars Was fixt long since. 'Tis Venus whom he weds.

'Tis she alone for whom he gaily treads His path of splendour; and of Saturn's ring He knows the symbol, and will have, in spring, A night-betrothal, near the Southern Cross; And all the stars will pause thereat and sing.

xviii.

What wonder, then, what wonder if to-day I, too, a.s.sert my right, in roundelay, To talk of rings and posies and the vows That wait on marriage? 'Tis the wild carouse Of soul with soul athwart the sense of touch.

'Tis this uplifts us when, with fever-clutch, The world would claim us; and our hopes revive In spite of fears that daunt us over-much.

xix.

Lips may be coy; but eyes are quick, at times, To note the throbbings that are hot as crimes, And fond as flutterings of the wings of doves.

For he is blind indeed who, when he loves, Doubts all he sees:--the flickering of a smile, The Parthian glance, the nod that, for a while, Outbids Elysium, and is half a jest, And half a truth, to tempt us and beguile.

xx.

Thine eyes have told me things I dare not speak; And I will trust the track they bid me seek, Yea, though it lead me to the gates of death!

The wind is labouring:--it is out of breath; Belike for scampering up the hill so fast To say all's well with thee; and, down the blast, I seem to hear the sounds of serenades That swell from out the song-fields of the past.

[Ill.u.s.tration: cherubs]

Seventh Litany.

STELLA MATUTINA.

Seventh Litany.

Stella Matutina.

i.

Arise, fair Phoebus! and with looks serene Survey the world which late the orbed Queen Did pave with pearl to please enamour'd swains.

Arise! Arise! The Dark is bound in chains, And thou'rt immortal, and thy throne is here To sway the seasons, and to make it clear How much we need thee, O thou silent G.o.d!

That art the crown'd controller of the year.

ii.

And while the breezes re-construct for thee The shimmering clouds; and while, from lea to lea, The great earth reddens with a maid's delight, Behold! I bring to thee, as yesternight, My subject song. Do thou protect apace My peerless one, my Peri with the face That is a marvel to the minds of men, And like a flower for humbleness of grace.

iii.

The earth which loves thee, or I much have err'd, The glad, green earth which waits, as for a word, The sound of thee, up-shuddering through the morn, The restive earth is pleased when Day is born, And soon will take each separate silent beam As proof of s.e.x,--exulting in the dream Of joys to come, and quicken'd and convuls'd, Year after year, by love's triumphant theme.

iv.

A thousand times the flowers in all the fields Will bow to thee; and with their little shields The daisy-folk will muster on the plain.

A thousand songs the birds will sing again, As sweet to hear as quiverings of a lute; And she I love will sing, for thy repute, Full many a song. She sings when she but speaks; And when she's near the birds should all be mute.

v.

O my Beloved! from thy curtain'd bed Arise, rejoice, uplift thy golden head, And be an instant, while I muse on this, As nude as statues, and as good to kiss As dear St. Agnes when she met her death, Unclad and pure and patient of her breath, And with the grace of G.o.d for wedding-gown, As many an ancient story witnesseth.