But I struck through their senses burning news Of impossible endless things, and mixt Wild lightning into their room of darkness.--Then Agony, and a craving for delight Escaping sensual grasp, began in men; And the agony was poison in the health Of sweet desire.--The joy of me men tried To compa.s.s with strange frenzy and desire Made new with cunning. But still at my feet The l.u.s.ts they tarr on me crouch down and fawn And snarl to be so fearful of their prey.

I see men's faces grin with helpless l.u.s.t About me; crooked hands reach out to please Their hot nerves with the flower of my skin; I see the eyes imagining enjoyment, The arms twitching to seize me, and the minds Inflamed like the glee-kindled hearts of fiends.

And through the world the fawning, fawning l.u.s.ts Hound me with worship of a ravenous yearning: And I am weary of maddening men with beauty.

_The Second Vision: Sappho_.

Into how fair a fortune hath man's life Fallen out of the darkness!--This bright earth Maketh my heart to falter; yea, my spirit Bends and bows down in the delight of vision, Caught by the force of beauty, swayed about Like seaweed moved by the deep winds of water: For it is all the news of love to me.

Through paths pine-fragrant, where the shaded ground Is strewn with fruits of scarlet husk, I come, As if through maidenhood's uncertainty, Its darkness coloured with strange untried thoughts; Hither I come, here to the flowery peak Of this white cliff, high up in golden air, Where glowing earth and sea and divine light Are in mine eyes like ardour, and like love Are in my soul: love's glowing gentleness, The sunny gra.s.s of meadows and the trees, Towers of dark green flame, and that white town Where from the hearths, a fragrance of burnt wood, Blue-purple smoke creeps like a stain of wine Along the paved blue sea: yea, all this kindness Lies amid salt immeasurable flowing, The power of the sea, pa.s.sion of love.

I, Sappho, have made love the mastery Most sacred over man; but I have made it A safety of things gloriously known, To house his spirit from the darkness blowing Out of the vast unknown: from me he hath The wilful mind to make his fortune fair.

Yea, here I stand for the whole earth to see How life, breathing its fortune like sweet air, Mixing it with the kindled heart of man, May utter it proud against the double truth Of darkness fronting him and following him, In a prevailing, burning, marvellous lie!

And it is love kindles the burning of it, The quivering flame of spoken-forth desire, Which man hath made his place within the world,-- Love, learnt of Sappho! and not only bright With gladness: I have devised an endless pain, The fearful spiritual pain of love, to hold In a firm fire, unalterably bright, The shining forth of Spirit's imagination Declared against the investing dark, a light Of pain and joy, equal for man and woman.

_The Third Vision: Theresa_.

Come, golden bridegroom, break this mortal night, Five times chained with darkness of my senses.

At last now visit my desire, and turn Thy feet, and the flaming path of thy feet, Unto these walls lockt round me like a death.

Death I would have them till thou comest; yea, The earthly stone whereof man's fortune here Is made, strongly into deliberate death I have built about my soul, to fend its life From gazes of the world. I am too proud To endure the world's desire of my beauty; I know myself too marvellous in love To be the joy of aught that thou hast made: I am to be bride of thee, of the world's maker.

O G.o.d, the heart I have from thee, the heart Uttering itself in an endless word of love, Is sealed up in the stone of worldly night: Set hitherward the flaming way of thy feet, Break my night, and enter in unto me.

Come, wed my spirit; and like as the sea, Into the shining spousal ecstasy Of sun and wind, riseth in cloudy gleam, So let the knowing of my flesh be clouds Of fire, mounting up the height of my spirit, Fire clouding with flame the marriage hour Wherein my spirit keeps thy dreadful light Away from Heaven in a bridal kiss,-- Fire of bodily sense in spiritual glee Held, as fire of water in sunlit air.

Ah G.o.d, beautiful G.o.d, my soul is wild With love of thee. Hitherward turn thy feet, Turn their golden journeying towards this night,-- This night of cavernous earth; and now let shine These walls of stone, against thy nearing love, Like pure gla.s.s smitten by the power of the sun; And let them be, in thy descending love, Like gla.s.s in a furnace, falling molten down, Back from thy burning feet streaming and flowing, Leaving me naked to thy bright desire.-- Enjoy me, G.o.d, enjoy thy bride to-night.

_Vashti_.

Too well I know the first, the scarlet clad; And she, that was in shining white and gold, Was as the sound of bees and waters, at last Heard by one long closed in the dins of madness.

But what was she, the black-robed, with the eyes So fearfully alight, the last who spoke?

_Ishtar_.

Take none of these for perfect: they are moods Purifying my women to become My unexpressive, uttermost intent.-- As music binds into a strict delight The manifold random sounds that shake the air, Even so fashioned must I have the being That fills with rushing power the boundless spirit: Amidst it, musically firm, a joy That is a fiery knowledge of itself, Thereby self-continent, a globed fire.

And she who gave thee wonder, is the sign Of those who firmest, brightest hold their being Fastened and seized in one enjoyed desire.

Yet even they are but a making ready For what I perfectly intend: in them Joy of self-bound desire hath burnt itself To extreme purity; I am free thereby To work my meaning through them, my divinity.

Yea, such clean fire in man and such in woman To mingle wonderfully, that the twain Become a moment of one blazing flame Infinitely upward towering, far beyond The boundless fate of spirit in the world.

But in the way to this are maladies And anguish; and as a perilous bridge Over the uncontrolled demanding world, Virginity, pa.s.sionate self-possessing, Must build itself supreme, unbreakable.

--I leave thee: as thou mayst, be comforted By prophecy of what I mean in life.

Against thee is not Heaven, and thou must Endure the hatred men will throw upon thee.

The shining place where Ishtar looked at her Empty the Queen beheld; and into mist The glory fainted, and the stars came through Untroubled. Into the night the Queen went on.

PART II

IMPERFECTION

MARY

[A LEGEND OF THE FORTY-FIVE]

I

_A street in Carlisle leading to the Scottish Gate. Three girls_, MARY, KATRINA, and JEAN.

_Katrina_.

What a year this has been!

_Mary_.

There's many a la.s.s Will blench to hear the date of it--Forty-five,-- Poor souls! Why will the men be fighting so, Running away to find out death, as if It were some tavern full of light and fiddling?

And when the doors are shut, what of the girls Who gave themselves away, and still must live?

Are not men thoughtless?

_Katrina_.

Leaving only kisses To be remembered by.

_Jean_.

That's not so bad As when the dead lads went beyond kissing.

_Mary_.

Poor souls! Well, Carlisle has at least three hearts That are not crying for a lad who's gone Listening to the lean old Crowder, Death.

We needn't mope: and yet it's sad.

_Jean_.

Come on, Why are we dawdling? All the heads are up, Steepled on spikes above the Scottish Gate,-- Some of the rebels rarely handsome too.

_Mary_.

Won't it be rather horrible?

_Katrina_.

A row Of chopt-off heads sitting on spikes--ugh!

_Jean_.

Yes, And I daresay blood dribbling here and there.

_Mary_.

Don't, Jean! I am going back. I was Forbid the gate.

_Katrina_.

And so was I.

_Jean_.

And I.

_Katrina_.

But a mere peep at them?

_Jean_.

Yes, come on, Mary.