v: 
 
 i 

 
 ALICE: AN ADULTERY
 
 PUBLISHER'S NOTE 
 
 I-'KOM the Author - Diary it is apparent that the events and 
 thoughts of each day correspond exactly with the sonnets, 
 >o that he iiied no "art" whatever. The book is a statement 
 <jf plain truth. 
 
 To any idiot who may wish to argue that the Propagation 
 o' K ligi< 'is Truth is not to be served by a realistic study of 
 .in illicit amour, people who have leisure to do so will reply 
 by inquiring why it is that similar studies occupy so large a 
 portion of Holy Writ, the works of Shakespeare, Shelley, 
 Robert Browning, and other authors, all of whom are 
 '.v-kno\\ledged to 1 e contributed not a little to the aim of 
 our Societv. 
 
 The present edition is slightly abridged from the privately- 
 issued first edition on China paper, of which a few copies (at 
 One Guinea net) remain.
 
 ALICE: 
 
 AN 
 
 ADULTERY 
 
 SOCIETY 
 
 FOR THE BOLESKINE 
 
 PROPAGATION FOYERS 
 
 OF INVERNESS 
 RELIGIOUS 
 
 TRUTH 
 
 Price Five Shillings net
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 \okokama, April, 1901. 
 
 It has often been pointed out how strange are the 
 prophecies made from time to time by writers of 
 what purports to be merely fiction. 
 
 Of all the remarkable tales with which Mr. K. 
 Kipling has delighted the world, none is more 
 striking than that of Mclntosh Jellaludin and his 
 mysterious manuscript. And now. only a few 
 years after reading that incredible tale, I myself, 
 at Yokohama, come across a series of circum- 
 stances wonderfully analogous. But I will truth- 
 fully set down this history just as it all happened. 
 
 I went one memorable Wednesday night to 
 Xo. 29.* For my advent in this most reputable 
 
 Disinclination to marry is congenital in the elect : the 
 Pauline alternative is discountenanced bv mv doctor.
 
 quarter of the city, which is, after all, Yama, and 
 equally handy for the consul, the chaplain, and 
 the doctor, readers of Rossetti will expect no ex- 
 r ti-e: for their sakes I may frankly admit that I was 
 actuated by other motives than interest and 
 solicitude for my companion, a youth still blindly 
 groping for Romance beneath the skirts of tawdry 
 and painted Vice. Perhaps I may have hoped to 
 save him from what men call the graver and 
 angels the lesser consequences of his folly. This 
 for the others. 
 
 As to the character of the mansion at which we 
 arrived, after a j( rney no less dubious than 
 winding, I will say that, despite its outward seem- 
 ing, it was, in reality, a most respectable place; 
 the main occupation of its inhabitants seemed to 
 be the sale of as much "champagne" as possible; 
 in which inspiring preface my friend was soon 
 deeply immersed. . . 
 
 Golden-haired, a profound linguist, swearing in 
 five Western and three Oriental languages, and 
 comparable rather to the accomplished courtesans
 
 of old-time Athens than to the Imperial Peripatetics 
 of the Daily Telegraph and Mr. Raven- Hill, her 
 looks of fire turned my friend's silky and insipid 
 moustache into a veritable Burning Bush. But 
 puppy endearments are of little interest to one who 
 has just done his duty by No. 9 in distant Yoshi- 
 wara; so I turned to the conversation of our dirty 
 old Irish hostess, who, being drunk, grew more so, 
 and exceedingly entertaining. 
 
 Of the central forces which sway mankind, her 
 knowledge was more comprehensive than conven- 
 tional. For thirty years she had earned her bread 
 in the capacity of a Japanese Mrs. Warren; but 
 having played with fire in many lands, the 
 knowledge she had of her own subject, based on 
 indefatigable personal research, was as accurate 
 in detail as it was cosmopolitan in character. 
 Yet she had not lost her ideals; she was a devout 
 Catholic, and her opinion of the human under- 
 standings, despite her virginal innocence of Greek, 
 was identical with that of Mr. Locke. 
 
 On occasions I am as sensitive to inexplicable 
 
 111
 
 interruption as Mr. Shandy, and from behind the 
 hideous yellow partition came sounds as of the 
 constant babbling of a human voice. Repeated 
 glances in this direction drew from my enter- 
 tainer ;he information that it was "only her 
 husband/' indicating the yellow-haired girl with 
 the stem of her short clay pipe. She added that 
 lie v as dying. 
 
 Curiosity, Compassion's Siamese twin, prompted 
 a desire to see the sufferer. 
 
 The old lady rose, not without difficulty, lifted 
 the curtain, and Vt it fall behind me as I entered 
 the gloom which lay beyond. On a bed, in that 
 half-fathomed twilight, big with the scent of 
 joss-sticks smouldering in a saucer before a little 
 bronze Buddha-rupa, lay a man, still young, the 
 traces of rare beauty in his face, though worn with 
 suffering and horrid with a week's growth of 
 be.ird. 
 
 He was murmuring over to himself some words 
 which I could not catch, but my entrance, though 
 he did not notice me, seemed to rouse him a little. 
 
 IV
 
 I distinctly heard 
 
 1 ' These are the spells by which to re-assume 
 An empire o'er the disentangled doom." 
 
 He paused, sighing, then continued 
 
 " To suffer pangs which hope things infinite; 
 To endure wrongs darker than death or night ; 
 
 To defy power which seems omnipotent; 
 To love, to bear ; to love till hope creates 
 From its own wreck the thing it contemplates ; 
 
 Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent : 
 This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be 
 Good, great, and joyous, beautiful, and free: 
 This is aione Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory." 
 
 The last phrase pealed trumpet-wise: he sank 
 back into thought. " Yes, 33 he said slowly, " neither 
 to change, nor falter, nor repent. 33 I moved for- 
 ward, and he saw me. 
 
 "Who are you? 33 he asked. 
 
 " I am travelling in the East,' : I said. " I love 
 men also; I have come to see you. Who are you? " 
 
 He laughed pleasantly. " I am the child of 
 many prayers.' 3 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 I stood still, thinking. 
 
 Here was surely the very strangest outcast of
 
 So-'iety. What uncouth bypaths of human ex- 
 perience, across what mapless tracks beyond the 
 so. i.il pale, must have led hither hither to death 
 in this Anglo-Saxon-blasted corner of Japan, here, 
 at the very outpost of the East. He spoke my 
 thought. 
 
 "Here I lie," he said, "east of all things. All 
 my life I have been travelling eastward, and now 
 there is no further east to go." 
 
 kl There is America/' I said. But I had to say 
 something. 
 
 ''Where the disappe ranee of man has followed 
 that of manners: the exit of (iod has not wished to 
 lag behind that of grammar. I have no use for 
 American men, and only one use for American 
 women.'' 
 
 " Of a truth," I said, " the continent is accursed 
 a very limbo/' 
 
 " It is the counterfoil of evolution," said the man 
 wearily. There was silence. 
 
 " What can I do for you ? " I asked. " Are you 
 indeed ill?" 

 
 " Four days more," he answered, thrilling with 
 excitement, "and all my dreams will come true 
 
 until I wake. But >ou can serve me, if indeed 
 
 Did you hear me spouting poetry?'*' 
 
 I nodded, and lit my pipe. He watched me 
 narrowly while the match illuminated my face. 
 
 ''What poetry?" 
 
 I told him Shelley. 
 
 " Do you read Ibsen?" he queried, keening 
 visibly. After a moment's pause: "He is the 
 Sophocles of manners," I said, rewarded royally 
 for months of weary waiting. My strange com- 
 panion sat up transfigured. "The Hour," he 
 murmured, "and the Man! . . . What of 
 Tennyson?" 
 
 "Which Tennyson?" I asked. 
 
 The answer seemed to please him. 
 
 "In Memoriam?" he replied. 
 
 " He is a neurasthenic counter-jumper." 
 
 "And of the Idylls?" 
 
 " Sir Thomas did no wrong ; can impotence 
 excuse his posthumous emasculation?" 
 
 Vll
 
 He sank back contented. k> I have prayed to my 
 < iod for many :lays, :> he said, "and by one of the 
 .east v<f my life's miracles you are liere ; worthy 
 .o receive my trust. For when I knew that I was 
 ;o die, 1 destroyed ail 'he papers which held the 
 story of my life all save one. That I saved ; the 
 only noble passage, perhaps amony the many 
 notable. Men will say that it is stained; you, I 
 think, should be wiser, it is the story of how the 
 Israelites crossed the Red Sea. They were not 
 drowned, you know (he seamed to lapse into a day- 
 dream;, and they carm out on tne Land of 
 Promise side. But they had to descend therein. ;; 
 
 "They all died in the wilderness," 1 -aid, f<"-iir,g 
 as if I understood this mystical talk, whii.h, 
 indeed, I did not. But I felt inspired. 
 
 "Ay me, they died as I am dying now.' 
 
 He turned to the wall and sought a bundle of 
 old writing on a shelf. ''Take this,' he said. 
 " Edit it as if it were your own : let the world 
 know how wonderful it was." I took the manu- 
 script from the frail, white hand. 
 
 VI 11
 
 He seemed to fcrget ire altogether. 
 
 " Xamo tassa bhagavato arahato sammasam- 
 buddhasa," he murmured, turning to his little 
 black Buddha-rupa. 
 
 There was a calm like unto might I say, an 
 afterwards? 
 
 " There is an end of joy and sorrow, 
 
 Peace all day long, all night, all morrow," 
 
 lie began drowsily. 
 
 A shrill voice rose in a great curse. The hoarse 
 anger of drunken harlotry snarled back. " Not a 
 drop more," shouted my friend, adding many 
 things. It was time for my return. 
 
 " I will let them know," I whispered. " Good- 
 bye." 
 
 " ' There is not one thing with another; 
 But Evil saith to Good: " My brother " 
 
 he went on unheeding. 
 
 I left him to his peace. 
 
 My re-appearance restored harmony. The 
 fulvous and fulgurous lady grew comparatively 
 tranquil ; the pair withdrew. The old woman lay 
 
 IX
 
 -prawlcd along the divan sunk in a drunken 
 lorpor. 
 
 1 unrolled the manuscript and read. 
 
 lirutal truth-telling humour, at times perhaps 
 too Rabelaisian : lyrics, some of enchanting beauty, 
 others painfully iini'ative: Bonnets of exceedingly 
 ur,(M|ii;il power, a perfectly heartless introduction* 
 some fnols would call it pathetic , and, as a 
 synthesis of the whole, an impression of profound 
 >adness and. perhaps, still deeper joy, were my 
 reward. Together with a feeling that the writer 
 must have been a ] -Mlosopher of the widest and 
 deepest learning aLcl penetration, and a regret that 
 he showed no more of it in his poetry. First and 
 last, I stood amazed, stupefied: -o stand I still. 
 
 Dramatic propriety forbade me seeing him 
 again : he was alone when lie started. 
 
 Let us not too bitterly lament ! He would hate 
 him who would "upon the rack of this tough 
 world stretch him out longer. ;; 
 
 r This ha- been lost.
 
 To the best of my poor ability I have executed 
 his wishes, omitting, however, his name and all 
 references sufficiently precise to give pain to any 
 person still living. His handwriting was abomin- 
 ably difficult, some words quite indecipherable. I 
 have spent long and laborious hours in conjecture, 
 and have, I hope, restored his meaning in almost 
 every case. But in the Sonnets of the I2th, iSth, 
 23rd, 24th, 29th, 35th, 4ist, 43rd, and 48th days, 
 also in u At Last/' '' Love and Fear/' and kt Lethe," 
 one or more whole lines have been almost im- 
 possible to read. The literary student will be able 
 readily to detect my patchwork emendations 
 These I have dared to make because his whole 
 pattern (may I use the word?; is so elaborate and 
 perfect that 1 fear to annoy the reader by leaving 
 any blanks, feeling that my own poverty of diction 
 will be less noticeable than any actual hiatus in 
 the sense or rhythm I attempt neither eulogy nor 
 criticism here. Indeed, it seems to me entirely 
 uncalled for. His words were: Let the world 
 know how wonderful it was," that is, his love 
 
 XI
 
 and hers : not " ho\v wonderful it is,'' that is, his 
 poem. 
 
 The poem is simple, understandable, direct, not 
 verbose. More I demand not, seeing it is written 
 'almost literally so) in blood ; for I am sure that 
 he was dying of that love for Alice, whose 
 marvellous beauty it was his mission (who 
 may doubt it ? to reveal. For the burning 
 torch of truth may smoke, but it is our one 
 sure light in passion and distress. The j we lied 
 sili Hi ( (>/ the stars is, indeed, the light of a 
 serener art ; but love is human, and I give 
 nothing for the tawdry gems of style when the 
 breast they would adorn is that of a breathing, 
 living beauty of man's love, the heart of all the 
 world. Nor let us taint one sympathy with even a 
 shadow of regret. Let us leave him where 
 
 " Si^ht nor sound shall \\ar against him more, 
 For whom all \vinds are quiet a? the sun, 
 All waters as the shore."
 
 WHAT LAY BEFORE
 
 MESSALINE 
 
 lieneath the living cross I lie 
 And swoon towards eternity: 
 Prodigious sinewy shapes, and lean, 
 And curving limbs of Messaline. 
 
 The deep arched eyes, the floating mane,- 
 One pierces, one wraps-in my brain: 
 A crown of thorn, a spear of clean 
 Cold fire of dying Messaline. 
 
 Swart tangles of devouring hair, 
 The scorpion labyrinth and snare, 
 Leprous entanglements of sense, 
 The Imminence of the Immense. 
 And in the deep hard breath I draw 
 Kissed from her strangling mouth and maw 
 I feel the floating deaths that dwell
 
 About that citadel ot heii : 
 A soft lewd ilavour, an obscene- 
 Mysterious self of Messaline. 
 
 Or. in the kisses that >woop low 
 To catch my breath and kill me so. 
 I feel the gho^tliness of this 
 Unreal shuttle-inline-- the kiss ! 
 Her moving body sobs above, 
 And calls its lechery true !<>vc. 
 Out from the tlar^e of heart she plucks 
 One flower of fie. , light, and sucks 
 Its essence up within her lips, 
 And flings it into mine, and dips 
 And bends her body, writhes and swims 
 To link the velvet of our limbs, 
 My drouth y passion worn and keen, 
 And luhty life of Messaline. 
 
 The heart's blood in her boiling over 
 She sucked from many a dying lover: 
 The purple of her racing veins 
 Leapt from some soul's despairing pains. 
 She drinks up life as from a cup ;
 
 She drains our health and builds it up 
 
 Into her body; takes our breath, 
 
 And we we dream not it is death ! 
 
 Arm unto arm and eye to eye, 
 
 Breast to great breast and thigh to thigh. 
 
 We look, and strain, and laugh, and die. 
 
 I see the head hovering above 
 
 To swoop for cruelty or love ; 
 
 I feel the swollen veins below 
 
 The knotted throat ; the ebb and llo\v 
 
 Of blood, not milk, in breasts of fire ; 
 
 Of deaths, not fluctuants, of desire ; 
 
 Of molten lava that abides 
 
 Deep in the vast volcanic sides ; 
 
 Deep scars where kisses once bit in 
 
 Below young mountains that be twin. 
 
 Stigmata cruciform of sin, 
 
 The diary of Messaline. 
 
 The moving mountains crater-crowned ; 
 The valleys deep and silver-bound : 
 The girdle treacherously wound ; 
 One violet-crested mounded mole,
 
 Some blood-stain filtered from the soul ; 
 Tl.e light and shadow shed between 
 My soul and God from Messaline. 
 
 And even as ^ dark and hidden 
 Furnace roars out in \voods forbidden, 
 A sullen tide of molten steel 
 Runs from deep furrows in the wheel ; 
 So from afar one central heat 
 Sends the loud pulse to fever beat ; 
 So from one crown and heart of fire 
 Spring the vast \ antoms of desire, 
 Impossible and epicene, 
 Familiar souls of Messaline. 
 
 And as, when thunder broods afar 
 Imperial destinies of war 
 Men see the haze and heat, and feel 
 The sun's rays like a shaft of steel. 
 Seeing no sun ; even so the night 
 Clouds that deep miracle from sight: 
 Until this destiny be done 
 Hangs the corona on the sun ; 
 And I absorbed in those unclean 
 Ghost-haunted veins of Messaline.
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 Forged by God's fingers in His furnace, Fate, 
 My destiny drew near the glowing shore 
 Where California hides her golden ore, 
 Her rubies and her beryls; * 
 
 Manifold fruits and flowers alike create 
 Glories most unimaginable, more 
 Than Heaven's own meadows match ; yet this is sore. 
 A stain ; not one of these is delicate. 
 
 Save only the clear green within the sea 
 Because that rolls all landless from Japan. 
 I did not know until I missed it here 
 
 How beautiful that beauty is to me, 
 That life that bears Death's sigil traced too clear, 
 Blue lines within the beauty that is man. 
 
 * Line 4 cannot with any certainty be deciphered.
 
 MARGARET 
 
 The moon spans Heaven's architrave: 
 
 Stars in th< Irep are set; 
 Written in gold on tne day 5 grave, 
 
 "To love, and to forget :' 
 And sea-wind-, whisper o'er the wave 
 
 The name of Margaret. 
 
 A heart of gold, a flower of \\hite, 
 
 A blushing flame of snow, 
 She moves like latticed moons of light- 
 
 And O ! her voice is low 
 Shell-murmurs borne to Amphitrite, 
 
 Exulting as they go.
 
 Her stature waves, as if a flower 
 
 Forgot f he evening breeze, 
 But heard the charioted hour 
 
 Sweep from the farther seas, 
 And kept sweet time within her bower, 
 
 And hushed mild melodies. 
 
 So grave and delicate and tail- 
 Shall laughter never sweep 
 
 Like a moss-guarded waterfall 
 Across her ivory sleep? 
 
 A tender laugh most musical? 
 A sigh serenely deep? 
 
 She laughs in wordless swift desire 
 
 A soft Thalassian tune ; 
 Her eyelids glimmer with the fire 
 
 That animates the moon ; 
 Her chaste lips flame, as flames aspire 
 
 Of poppies in mid-June.
 
 She lifts the cycluN amethyst. 
 And looks fioin halt'-rdiut eyes, 
 
 (ileamiii^ with miracles of mi^t. 
 (iray shadou., on blue skies: 
 
 And on her whole fa< - e unrise-ki-^ed, 
 Child wonderment most wise. 
 
 The whitest arm- in a',' the cart!; 
 
 r>lu>h from t! lilac !>r< \. 
 Like a youn^ star even at it< birth 
 
 Shines out the golden head. 
 Sad violets are the maiden ;^n;h. 
 
 Pale tlames night-canopied. 
 
 O gentlest lady ! Lift those eyes. 
 
 And curl those lips to kiss! 
 Melt my > ounx boyhood in thy sigh- 
 
 A subtler Salmacis ! 
 Hide, in that pea<:e, these ecstasies : 
 
 In that fair fountain, this! 

 
 She fades as starlight on the stieam, 
 
 As dewfall in the dell ; 
 All life and love, one ravishing gleam 
 
 Stolen from sleep's crucible ; 
 That kiss, that vision is a dream : 
 
 And I most miserable ! 
 
 Still Echo wails upon the steep, 
 " To love and to forget ! " 
 
 Still sombre whispers from the deep 
 Sob through Night's golden net, 
 
 And waft upon the wings of sleep 
 The name of Margaret. 
 
 II
 
 ALICE: AN ADULTERY
 
 ALICE: AN ADULTERY 
 
 " Commit not with man's sworn spouse 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 Against the fiat of that God discrowned, 
 
 Unseated by Man ; s justice, and replaced 
 By Law most bountiful and maiden -faced 
 And mother-minded : passing the low bound 
 
 Of man's poor law we leapt at last and found 
 
 Passion; and passing the dim halls disgraced 
 Found higher love and larger and more chaste, 
 A calm sphinx waiting in secluded ground. 
 
 Hear the sad rhyme of how love turned to lust, 
 And lust invigorated love, and love 
 Shone brighter for the stain it rose above, 
 
 Gathering roses from the quickening dust; 
 And faith despoiled and desecrated trust 
 Wore pearlier plumes of a diviner dove.
 
 THK I IRST DAY 
 
 ' \Yho over loved tb.it loved rv-t ,il first sight:" 
 
 A.-> vou Ik i- it. 
 
 The waving surf shone from the I 'careful Sea. 
 
 Young palms embowered the houses here Beauty sate 
 
 Still but exultant, silent but elate 
 
 In it- own happiness ncl majesty 
 Of a mild soul unstirred by rivalry 
 
 ()f any life beyond its n\n sweet ->tate. 
 
 I looked around me, wondered whether 1 ate 
 
 Had found at la^t a uoman's love for me. 
 
 I had no hope: she was so ;^ra\c and calm. 
 So shining with the dew-li^ht of her soul, 
 So beautiful beyond a woman's share. 
 
 Yet here! Soft airs, and perfume through the palm, 
 And moonlight in the groves of spice, control 
 The life that would not love and vet be fair. 
 
 16
 
 THE SECOND DAY 
 
 " Keep you in the rear of your affection 
 Out of the shot and clanger of doirv. " 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 I was so hopeless that I turned away 
 And gave my love to foul oblivion, 
 Shuttered my bosom's window from the sun, 
 Kindled a corpse-light and proclaimed "The day!'': 
 
 Lurked in Aeaean fens to elude the ray 
 
 Whose beauty might disturb me: I did shun 
 The onyx eyes that saw me not as one 
 Possible even for a moment's play. 
 
 Thus I was tangled in some house of hell, 
 Giving mine own soul's beauty up to lust. 
 Hoping to build some fort impregnable 
 
 Against my love: instead the deep disgust 
 
 Of my own beasthood crushed it into dust. 
 And left my manhood twisted in her spell.
 
 THE THIRD DAY 
 
 'My love i> mo^t immaculate \\hitr and red. 
 Love':- Lalx.mr's l,o>t. 
 
 She was more graceful than the royal palm ; 
 Tail, with imperial looks, and excellence 
 Most simply swathed in spotless elegance. 
 And holy and tun- '"ul like some stately psalm. 
 
 Her breath was like a grove of myrrh and balm, 
 And all the sight grew dim before the sense 
 Of blind attraction toward ; an influence 
 Not incompatible with her own calm. 
 
 All the red roses of the world were blended 
 To give the lively colour of her face ; 
 All the white lilies of the sea shone splendid 
 
 Where the blue veins afforded them a space; 
 
 Like to the shapely fragrance of dawn's shrine 
 She gleamed through mist, enchanting, Erycine. 
 
 18
 
 THE FOURTH DAY 
 
 "Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy." 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 I took another way to shield my love. 
 
 I turned my thoughts to the abyss of sky, 
 
 Pierced the frail veil, and sought Eternity ; 
 
 Where the Gods reign most passionless abov? 
 A 1 foolish loves of men, and weary of 
 
 The slow procession of Earth's mystery ; 
 
 Where worlds, not men, are born and live and die. 
 
 And aeons flit unnoticed as a dove. 
 
 Thither I fled, busied myself with these; 
 
 When lo ! I saw her shadow following ! 
 
 In every cosmic season-tide of spring 
 She rose, being the spring: in utter peace 
 
 She was with me and in me : thus I saw 
 
 Ours was not love, but destiny, and law.
 
 REINCARNATION 
 
 In Life what hope is always unto men: 
 
 Stories of Arthur that shall come again 
 Cleansing the Karth of her eternal stain, 
 Elias, Chai. magne, Christ. What matter then: 
 
 \\ hat matter who, or how, or even when? 
 It we but look beyond the primal pain, 
 And tuist the Future to urite ail things plain, 
 (iravcn on brass with the predestined pen 
 
 This i:- the doom. L'pon the blind blue sky 
 
 A little cloud, no larger than an hand ! 
 
 Whether I live and love, or love and die, 
 I care not: either way I understand. 
 
 To me to li\e is Christ; to die is gain : 
 
 For I, I also, I shall come again.
 
 THE FIFTH DAY 
 
 "Thine eyes, sweet lady, hn\v inUvted nun' 
 
 Richard 111. 
 
 All thought of work is almost cast aside. 
 
 I followed like a dog the way she went, 
 
 Speaking but seldom, very well content 
 
 To day-dream, oft imagining a bride, 
 A wife, a lover, even a sister, tied 
 
 Py some soft bond of u\ inning: thus I blcni 
 
 A real joy with a brighter element 
 
 Of fancy free to wander far and wide. 
 
 For as I followed by the shore and bended 
 Over her footsteps in the wood, my will 
 Rose to high strength assertive and transcended 
 
 The petty forms of the seducers skill. 
 
 Chaste love strode forth, a warrior's stern and splendid 
 Determined footsteps on the Arcadian Hill. 
 
 21
 
 THI- SIXTH DAY 
 
 ''A:v there not charms 
 
 !'\ \\hich t!v property of youth and w.iidhood 
 M.iv I >e .t';>u-< ; d . J 
 
 Othello. 
 
 1 drew a hideous talisman of lust 
 
 In many colours where strong sigils shone; 
 Cmok'd mystic ' anguagc of oblivion, 
 Kitted to crac:k aid scorch the terrene crust 
 
 And brirg the sulphur steaming from the thrust 
 Of Satan's winepress, was ill written on 
 The accursed margin, and the orison 
 Scrawled backwards, as a bad magician must. 
 
 l.y the>c \ lie trii k>, abominable spells, 
 
 I drew foul horrors from a many hells 
 Though I had fathomed Fate; though I had seen 
 
 chastity charm-proof arm the sea-gray eyes 
 And sweet clean body of my spirit's queen, 
 Where nothing dwells that God did not devise.
 
 THE SEVENTH DAY 
 
 " This word 'love,' which greyl>eardh call di vine 
 lie resident in men like one another 
 And not in me: I am myself alone." 
 
 3 Henry VI. 
 
 Therefore I burnt the wicked pantacle, 
 
 And cast my love behind me once again. 
 
 I mused upon the mystery of pain, 
 
 Where the Gods taught me by another spell 
 
 Not chosen from the armoury of Hell, 
 
 But given of Mercury to cleanse the stain 
 Of the old planet : thus I wrote me plain 
 Secrets divine tremendous, terrible I 
 
 Thus I forgot my soul and dwelt alone 
 
 In the strong fortress of the active mind 
 Whose steady flame burned eager in the night 
 
 Vet was some shadow on the starry throne, 
 
 Some imperfection playing hoodman-blind 
 So that I saw not perfectly aright.
 
 THE EIGHTH DAY 
 
 " a certain aim he took 
 At a fair Ve-tal throned l>y the West." 
 Midsummer Night's Uream. 
 
 Here in the extreme west of all the earth 
 
 This Vestal sate; and I from Cupid's bow 
 
 Loosed a fair shaft r >f verses shapen so 
 
 As to fling love through the chaste girdle's girth, 
 
 And show my love how meek was my love's birth, 
 How innocent its being : thus arow 
 Stood the mild lines, immaculate, to show 
 My harmless passion and her own great worth. 
 
 She could not be offended : and moreover 
 
 When at the nightfall I sought Heaven's light, 
 All my work grew unspotted, done aright ! 
 
 The high Gods came above my head to hover, 
 Because I worked with a diviner might, 
 The perfect sage being the perfect lover.
 
 THE NINTH DAY 
 
 " How can.->t them tell she will deny thy suit, 
 Before thou make a trial of her love?" 
 
 i Henry VI. 
 
 I was most weary of my work : the mind 
 
 Shuddered at all the wonders it had written, 
 And the whole body by the spirit smitten 
 Groaned : so I went and left my love behind, 
 
 Danced the gross "hula", hardly disinclined, 
 By a new lust emphatically bitten ; 
 And so in flames at harlot glances litten 
 I sought that solace I shall never find. 
 
 Fool! not to tell her. Triple fool to fly 
 
 The sunny glance, the moonlight meditation, 
 For even the light of heaven. How much worse 
 
 The dark antithesis, the coarser curse 
 
 Of Eden ! Pass, O shadows of creation, 
 Into the daybreak of Eternity !
 
 '1 UK TMN I'll i>AY 
 
 ( ) <;.,.! ' I c.-iiV, 1. I, - 
 i .;y M-';t k ' ML, u! i;i!i.i ,ic -:uo 
 clre.im-. 
 
 I I.unlrt. 
 
 The mere result of. ill thi> was a dream. 
 
 The day passed dcimned, void of my lo\ e'sdear light, 
 And stole accursed to the endless night, 
 Forgotten (as I trust by God : no beam 
 
 Of memorv lighting it do\\ Time's dark stream. 
 I dreamt : my shrine \\ as broken and my might 
 Det'iled, and all my Gods abated, in sight 
 Of all blind Heaven excnterate and extreme. 
 
 The foulest traitor of all womankind 
 
 I ever knew, became m\ friend"*": unclean 
 Sexual abominations floated through, 
 
 More foul because a golden cord did wind 
 Unspotted through that revel epicene, 
 The pure faith of one worn MI that was true. 
 
 ' 'I his circumstance u.i^lnt'.T fulfilled: I having judged 
 her piClion> on insufficient evidence. 
 
 26
 
 THE ELEVENTH DAY 
 
 " What win I if I gain the tiling I scok? 
 Rape of Lucrece. 
 
 There is much sorcery in the word eleven. 
 I took my lover's image pale and clear, 
 Fixed in my mind; I saw her standing near, 
 Wooed her,conjuredher bythepowerof heaven, 
 
 Of my own mind, the Genii of the Seven, 
 
 To come and live with me and be my dear. 
 To love me in the spirit without fear; 
 Leaving the body's love to follow at even. 
 
 Seemeth it not absurd? to use the thought, 
 The utterly divine impersonal 
 Mind of a man, the pure, the spiritual, 
 
 To such a purpose rather less than nought, 
 A woman's love considering that all 
 Wise men assure us that it may be bought!
 
 THK TWELFTH DAY 
 
 I i,. >nt thoti \vftt not m.-.rned to my Mu<-e 
 At, (I tlK'ivto'v m.iv-t \\it!uu:t .ttt.imt o'cr'.-Kjk 
 The (U-du.U'Hl '.vui'U \\hich \\ritrr:> use 
 Of tliv.r Ian -ut'ji'cls" 
 
 1'lv.' Sonnet-. 
 
 I learnt at last some sort of confidence, 
 
 Called me the fool I was, knowing my skill 
 Proven of old. all women's native will 
 To do all tb ^ >oever that lack sense, 
 
 Especially if evil: thoughts immense 
 
 Like this 1 thought : j)lumes of my amorous (|u,il 
 I tickled her withal: then ;^iave and still 
 Waited secure, the silence j^rew intense. 
 
 She read and :-.aw me hut a beardless boy, 
 Too ycur.^' to fear, too -entle not to pity, 
 Not overbold; quite powerless to destroy 
 
 Her life's long peace, the ten-year-walle'd city. 
 Why be too cruel, check such baby joy? 
 She said u I think the poem very pretty".
 
 THE POEM 
 
 I have no heari to sing. 
 What offering may 1 briny, 
 
 Alice, to thee? 
 My great love's lifted wing 
 Weakens, unwearying, 
 
 And droops with me, 
 Seeing the sunkindled hair 
 Close in the face more fair. 
 The sweet soul shining there 
 
 For God to see. 
 
 29
 
 Surely -:omc an^el shed 
 Fiowers for the maiden bead, 
 
 F.phemeial flowers ! 
 1 yearn, not comforted. 
 My heart has vainly bled 
 
 Through a^e-loni/ hours. 
 '1 u thee my spii it turns; 
 My bright soul ache- and burn: 
 As a dry \ alley yearns 
 
 For spring and showers. 
 
 Splendid, remote, a fane 
 Alone and unprofane, 
 
 1 know thy breast. 
 These bitter tears of pain 
 I'lood me. and fall a^ain 
 
 Not into rest. 
 Me. who^e sole purpose is 
 To j;ain one painless kiss. 
 And make a bird's my bliss, 
 
 Shrined in that nest.
 
 fearful firstling dove! 
 
 My dawn and ^pring of love, 
 Love's light and lure! 
 
 Look ,as I bend above) 
 
 Through bright lids tilled thereof 
 Perfect and pure, 
 
 Thy bloom of maidenhood. 
 
 1 could not: if I could, 
 
 1 \\ould not: being good, 
 endure! 
 
 Cruel, to tear or mar 
 The chaliced nenuphar; 
 
 Cruel to press 
 The rosebud; cruel to scar 
 Or stain the flo\ver-star 
 
 With mad caress. 
 Hut crueller to destroy 
 The leaping life and joy 
 Born in a careless boy 
 
 From lone distiess.
 
 More cruel then art thou 
 The cairn and chaste of brow, 
 
 If thou dost this, 
 '"orget the feeble vow 
 111 sworn: all laws allow 
 
 Pity, that is 
 
 Kin unto love, and mild. 
 List to the sad and wild 
 Crying' of the lonely child 
 
 Who asks a kiss. 
 
 One kiss, like snow, to slip, 
 Cool fragrance from thy lip 
 
 To melt on mine; 
 ( )ne kiss, a \\ hite-sail shij) 
 To laugh .ind leap am! '.lip 
 
 i Ic-r brow> di\ inc: 
 One kiss, a stiirbeam hunt 
 \\'i;h HA c of a sweet saint, 
 Stolen like a sacrament 
 
 In the night's shrine!
 
 One kiss, like moonlight cold 
 Lighting with floral gold 
 
 The lake's low tune ; 
 One kiss, one flower to fold, 
 On its own calyx rolled 
 
 At night, in June ! 
 One kiss, like dewfall, drawn 
 A veil o'er leaf and lawn- 
 Mix night, and noon, and dawn, 
 
 Dew, flower, and moon ! 
 
 One kiss, intense, supreme ! 
 The sense of Nature's dream 
 
 And scent of Heaven 
 Shewn in the glint and gleam 
 Of the pure dawn's first beam, 
 
 With eanh fcr leaven ; 
 Moulded of fire and gold, 
 Water and wine to fold 
 Me in its life, and hold ! 
 
 In all but seven! 
 
 33
 
 I \\ould not ki^s thee, I ! 
 LeM my Ip's < haia tery 
 
 I\i;m i !iy tlou er. 
 ( "ur\ c ill ^i one maidenly 
 Ki--*, ^toopinx irom thy ->ky 
 
 ( M pc.K e and pouer ! 
 liviie only be the embrace 
 1 m>ve not horn my place. 
 I (M-l the exultant face 
 
 M me tor an hour '. 
 
 ',4
 
 THE THIRTEENTH DAY 
 
 If it ta a sin to make a true election, she is damned. 
 
 Cymbeline. 
 
 .n the dim porchway where the sea's deep boom 
 Under our very feet made ceaseless song, 
 \Vr bale, remote, the lone lanai along. 
 Sequestered from the young moon in the gloom 
 
 U early even : then the tender bloom 
 
 Shone on her cheek and deepened as the strong 
 Anns gathered round her, more than shame or wrong. 
 And the soft question murmured "Love you 'vhomr' 
 
 1 he deepening rose; the heart's pulse quickening; 
 
 The fc.ir; the increasing ecstasy of this 
 
 A little cloud lifted a sombre wing 
 Shadowing our secret breath from Artemis 
 
 1 reav. >, met and arms enclosed, andail thespring 
 
 (:ew into Summer with the first long kiss. 
 
 35
 
 nil-: loURTKLXTH DAV 
 
 Ail d.'iy \\e chose each moaient possible 
 
 When to the other's tare cadi ta' e ;ni;jht Ciii 
 K.'u h ki.->s burn f'ortli. a double licry >tin^ 
 Kxaltiny us i; oy lorc^eeii to swell 
 
 A ini^h'y exultation; it befell. 
 
 However, that I >a\\ the ^hacio'Ay thm^ 
 Lurk behind !o\e, and 'lap a -- orntui ui: 1 ,^. 
 Seeing <ur h"iiour -lood a citadel. 
 
 1 >aw the foohshnev- of lo\ e that .saith : 
 " I am e.xahed o\cr >hanie and death, 
 IJut will not take my till of death and shame. 
 
 I-'or each kiss leaps, a more insistent breath, 
 And adds fresh fuel to the amorous flame, 
 Not quells it Is not honour but a name?
 
 THE FIFTEENTH DAY 
 
 " Were kisses all the joys in l>ed, 
 One woman \umhl another \\<-d." 
 Sonnets to Sundry 
 Notes ol Music 
 
 Another day rose of unceasing fire : 
 
 Kisses made monstrous for their sterile storm 
 Maddening with <ea- sounds, as of lute or shawm 
 Fluting and clashing in extreme desire; 
 
 The >illy "Thus far and no farther, nigher 
 
 Kach hour to break poor arbitrary form !) 
 As each kiss bade our bodies wed and warm 
 (iive love one chance before its wave retire. 
 
 Not so: this trial was the tiniest 
 
 Man ever knew, confronted afterward 
 
 With giant fears and passions ; long to fight 
 
 And last to yield a Maenad-swelling breast 
 Unto a furious Dionysian horde 
 Drunk not with wine, but with avenging night. 
 
 37
 
 THi: SIXTKILXTH DAY 
 
 ' My c!u-tit\ 's the jf\\rl of our hi > : v 
 IVqvH'.ithril (!C\MI from many nnov-tor- 
 \Vhicn \\OP- the ^reutc-t obloqin :' th \\<jrl<: 
 
 1 '( ir iiv to I- >-e. 
 
 All , \\'.-;i. 
 
 There u as no ^ccret ca\'e of the wood's womb 
 Where we ini^ht kiss all day without a start 
 Of fear that meant to stay and mu>t depart, 
 Nor anv co >er where the sea ; s j)erfume 
 
 Mi^ r hi Clicker lo\ e in >orne wave-carven tomb. 
 lUit Maytune shone in u^ ; \\ nh words ot art 
 I drew her down reluctant to my heart, 
 When flight was Mlence and my bed the jjloom. 
 
 So without sin svc took strange sacrament, 
 
 \\"ho>e wmc was ki>se>. anil \\ ho>e bread the flower 
 Ot" fast and lervem cleaving breast to breast. 
 
 As h'ly bends to lily we were bent. 
 
 Not as mere man to woman : all the dower 
 
 Of martyred Virgins crowned our dangerous quest.
 
 ALICE 
 
 The roses of the world are sad, 
 
 The water-lilies pale, 
 Because my lover takes her lad 
 
 Beneath the moonlight veil. 
 No flower may bloom this happy hour 
 Unless my Alice be the flower. 
 
 The stars are hidden in dark and mist, 
 The moon and sun are dead, 
 
 Because my love has caught and kissed 
 My body in her bed. 
 
 No light may shine this happy night 
 
 Unless my Alice be the light. 
 
 39
 
 So -ilcnt arc the thru-h, the lark! 
 
 The nightingale'> at rest, 
 Because my lover loves the dark. 
 
 Ami has me in her breast. 
 No son;; this happy night be heard! 
 Unless my Alice be the bird. 
 
 The sea that roared around the house 
 
 Is fallen from alarms, 
 Because my lover calls me spouse, 
 
 And takes ic to her arms. 
 This night no sound of breakers be! 
 Unless my Alice be the sea. 
 
 Of man and maid in all the world 
 Is stilled the swift caress, 
 
 Because my lover has me curled 
 In her own loveliness. 
 
 No kiss be such a night as this! 
 
 Unless my Alice be the kiss. 
 
 40
 
 No blade of grass awaiting takes 
 The dew fresh-fallen above, 
 
 Because my lover swoons, and slakes 
 Her body's thirst of love. 
 
 This night no dewfall from the blue! 
 
 Unless my Alice be the dew. 
 
 This night O never dawn shall crest 
 
 The world of wakening, 
 Because my lover has my breast 
 
 On hers for dawn and spring. 
 This night shall never be withdrawn 
 Unless my Alice be the dawn.
 
 THE SEVENTEENTH DAY 
 
 1 Now I want 
 
 Spirits to enforce, art to enchant. 
 Tempt-st. 
 
 Last night but the boy shrieked in 's sleep then, there 
 I had endt-d all ! Having ingressed the track. 
 That leads from green or white-crowned hours to black, 
 The pleasant port, of the scorpion snare, 
 
 First gleaming toils of an enchantress' hair 
 
 That afterward shall change their fen'ours slack 
 To strong ^ripe of a devil-fi^h : go back? 
 The hand is put forth to the plough beware ! 
 
 I took my shrine down : at the night we lay 
 Four hours debating between fear and sin : 
 Whether our love went deeper than the skin, 
 
 Or lower than the lips : love won the day. 
 
 We nestled like young turtles that be twin 
 Close till the morn-star chased the moon away.
 
 THE EIGHTEENTH DAY 
 
 " Touches so soft still conquer chastity." 
 Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 She grew most fearful, starting at slight noise ; 
 As knowing that the sting of shame was hers 
 Worse than a guilty love administers, 
 Since our pure shame unworthily destroys 
 
 The love of all she had, her girls and boys, 
 
 Her home, their lives : and yet my whisper stirs 
 
 Into live flame her passion, and deters 
 
 Her fear from spurning all the day's due joys. 
 
 She had not dared to speak one word, to tell 
 
 How deep and pure a fountain sunward leapt 
 In her life's garden : but to-night she lay 
 
 In my intense embraces: so the spell 
 
 Moved her: " I love you," said she. So we kept, 
 Remurmuring that one phrase until the day. 
 
 43
 
 THE NINETEENTH DAY 
 
 " The boy i- fooh-h, and I fear not him." 
 
 kichanl III. 
 
 >he dared not come into my room to-night. 
 So? I was acquiescent, sharp despair 
 And nervous purpose mixing in me there 
 The while I waitec 1 then I glided light 
 Clad in the swart robe of an eremite) 
 Across the passage and, all unaware 
 My kisses underneath the veil of vair 
 Woke her: she turned and sighed and held me tight. 
 
 Her child slept gently on the farther side. 
 
 Hut we took danger by the throat, despised 
 All but the one sole splendour that we prized ; 
 
 And she, whose robe was far too slight to hide 
 
 The babe-smooth breasts, was far too frail to cover 
 Her heart's true fire and music from her lover. 
 
 44
 
 THE TWENTIETH DAY 
 
 " Val. How long hath she been deformed > 
 Speed. Ever since you loved her." 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 Again the umeiled goddess of delight 
 
 Watched us at midnight: there my lover lay 
 Child-breasted, maiden as the rose of day 
 Dawning on snowy mountains : through deep night 
 
 Her body gleamed self-luminously white 
 
 With the sweet soul that sundered the quirk clay. 
 And all her being was a sense of May ; 
 Scent conquering colour, soul outrunning sight. 
 
 Not with the Lysian, nor lacchian dew 
 
 Of frenzy covered, but with warmer flakes 
 Of Aphrodite shed upon our life, 
 
 We clung still closer, till the soul ran through 
 Body to body, twined like sunny snakes, 
 Sinlessly knowing we were man and wife. 
 
 45
 
 rill-; TUKXTV 1 IRST DAY 
 
 ' Mai. I)i-j>ut< :t like ,i ,ii. n. 
 ;.! ial. 1 shall <!<> -. 
 
 l'i;t I r.iii-t al-<j Ic 1 : it as a man. " 
 
 Macbeth. 
 I had a fearful dream Con going a \\ayi 
 
 \ n s ( oipion \\omen curled in my carets. 
 And t\\enty days they closed on my distress 
 Not giving me relief, but gold and gray, 
 Cold and intense; the one-and-twentieth day 
 
 They drew n li!e out. one exceeding stress, 
 Yok anic anguish ! Here's the strange excess: 
 I called, ere waking, on the name 1-Jicich ! 
 
 Solve me the riddle of the dream who can ! 
 That night I sought a new toy for a lure, 
 And >he would not : but knew how hard to endure 
 
 1^ lo\e like ouis, the love of purity. 
 
 So she : " I )i^piKe it like a man ! " and I : 
 " Hut I mu^t aKo tVcl it a> a man ! '" 
 
 Note. 1 '.!-.!:. -li i- tin- I ! hrcu t'cr ' ' I ,'ni thai I am." Its 
 numerical value is ^\. 1 h.u eomeidence is pc'-sihly conseious 
 enou^li, but 1 v. a* r,ft a \\.irc -it tin 1 time that tin- \v.is the 
 
 J i - 1 i !a\ .
 
 THE TWENTY-SECOND DAY 
 
 " I'll have her: but I will not keep her long." 
 
 Richard I II. 
 
 It was impossible that she should come 
 
 Over the leagues of summer-coloured sea 
 Alone with love and laughter and tears and me 
 To the toy land of the chrysanthemum, 
 
 Where all the flowers lack scent, the birds are dumb, 
 The fruits are tasteless : where the jewelled lea 
 And all the many-leaved greenery 
 Is dwarf: French gem- work on a baby's thumb. 
 
 The Yankee God frowned also on the plan. 
 We had enough, no more. But I insist, 
 Still thinking I was master of my heart : 
 
 Saying, ".- nother month to be a man, 
 
 Another month to kiss her and be kissed, 
 And then all time to Magic and to Art ! " 
 
 47
 
 THK TWENTY-THIRD DAY 
 
 HI- ha- 
 I Ii- l.iM^u i^r in hi- tr.it -.' 
 K. Urn. VIII. 
 
 Mv comedy has c handed its blithe aspect 
 To bitterest face of tragedy : -he -a:d : 
 "Ala-! O soul of mine! I run surely dead, 
 Seeing my lite is by a serpent u recked 
 
 Of sore disease : but -pai e me. and reflect 
 
 That in fe months I die: but \vere I wed 
 
 lover! O desire discomfited ! 
 
 1 die at once: consider, and elc 1 t." 
 
 How could I othet w^c than spare my wife? 
 
 With tender lips and finder-, one htrong kiss 
 Swooned >la\ e-wise even before the x^teof bliss, 
 
 No more : for I rose up and curbed my life, 
 Hating the (iod that made us to dissever 
 So soon so sweet a love, and that for ever. 
 
 " Alice told me to-day that she had cancer of the uterus. 
 Vae L'apricorno ! " (Author's Diary. ) Et>. 
 
 48
 
 THE TWENTY-FOURTH DAY 
 
 " She having the truth of honour in her, hath made 
 him that gracious denial which he is most glad to 
 receive. " Measure for Meagre. 
 
 Of course I might have known it was a lie. 
 
 Nathless, I wept all morning and despaired. 
 Nothing for any life of earth I cared, 
 Neither for heaven : I railed against the sky, 
 
 Hating the earth, the sea, the witchery 
 
 Of all the universe : my breast I bared 
 
 And cursed God, hoping lightning ; and I dared 
 
 Not ask my love " In very truth you die?" 
 
 I could not bear it longer; then she spake: 
 
 " I lied indeed, love, for mine honour's sake" 
 And I reproached her for her love's distrust, 
 
 Saying " I would not so in any wise 
 
 Have lowered love unto the level of lust : 
 
 But now" I hid my thought in tears and sighs. 
 
 E 49
 
 THi; TWENTY-FIFTH DAY 
 
 Ah' e uas desperately ill at morn. 
 
 Hour by sweet hour I \\a: hed her sorrowing, 
 While the strong fever fought tmconquenng 
 With native c.>oine>s of her lite, o erworn 
 
 Or poisoned : th I fought the long forlorn 
 liattle all day, until th.e evening 
 
 l>roi:ghtback s\\ eel health on sleep and noi-eles- .\ ing 
 Strong love of the long battle \\a^ reborn. 
 
 The child slept eUe^here that she might -ieep we!!. 
 
 Therefore, not fearing anything, I came: 
 
 Lit my love '> candle at her bod\ .-, tlame. 
 And fought not with the fever- now that swell 
 
 Our burning lips and l>osom>, until shame 
 
 Nearly surrendered the sueet citadel. 
 
 v
 
 THE TWENTY-SIXTH DAY 
 
 " I think the devil will not have me <1 mined 
 .... he would never e!>e ero^s me thu-. 
 Merry \Vi\o of \Vind>or. 
 
 This time she set her will against my will : 
 
 Swore that she would not come: in my despair 
 ! half believed her an enchantress fair 
 Cruel as hell and dowered with subtle skill 
 
 To strain my love out with her love, and kill 
 My soul with misery: suddenly a rare 
 Swift smile set shimmering all the ambient air. 
 And then I knew she was my true love still. 
 
 She would not come? Why, were Hell's portals fa^t 
 
 Shut, as to Orpheus on Eurydice, 
 
 Their brass would break before love's gold and strrl, 
 The sharpness inlaid with sweet tracery 
 
 Of talismans of virtue: she is leal 
 
 To come and live and be my love at la^t.
 
 UNDER THE PALMS 
 
 The woodland hollows know us, bird-enchanted, 
 Likewise the snaces of the ghostly sea, 
 
 The lake's abunda lilies, the pale slanted 
 
 Moonlight on flowers, thewind's lowminstrelsy 
 
 For all the tropic greenery is haunted 
 By you and me 
 
 The tall palms bend and catch love's tender ditty 
 To learn a sweeter song to lure their mate. 
 
 The soft wind sighs in amorous self-pity, 
 Having no love wherein to laugh elate, 
 
 And turns to the cold harbour and the city, 
 Wailing its fate
 
 Two faces and two bosoms, breathing slowly 
 
 In tune and time with the sea's hymn below, 
 
 Breathing in peace of love, mighty and holy, 
 Fearing to fuse, and longing be it so ! 
 
 And the world's pulse stops, as God bends him lowly 
 To hear and know. 
 
 For not the heights of heaven shall exalt her 
 Whose heart is full of love's dumb deity, 
 
 Nor harp-strings lift me, nor the sound of psalter, 
 Whose love is merged and molten into thee, 
 
 Xor incense sweeter be by shrine or altar 
 For you and me 
 
 But like dove ; s eyes where glamour lies a-duelling, 
 Like sweet well-vater rising in the well, 
 
 Strong steep black currents thrust up, flooding, welling, 
 Into the moonlight, swift, adorable, 
 
 So kisses cluster, so our bosoms swelling 
 Abide and dwell. 
 
 53
 
 Yet the twin fa< cs, like Madonnas, meeting, 
 
 Fear aiul draw bark and gaze a little space; 
 
 Fear, lest tr.^y lose the moonlight frail and fleeting, 
 I.ohe their own beauty in their own embrace, 
 
 lint feel how gladdening hearts and bosoms beating 
 Kindle the face . 
 
 liut not for long shall lilies strive with roses, 
 Nor fear be fearful, nor delight repose, 
 
 No: love retire; tlu voodland cleaves and closes 
 Round heads an aureole hides, a rainbow shows. 
 
 A swifter .-.hape of tire Ueaves us, encloses 
 Rosebud and rose. 
 
 Mouth unto mouth! O fairest! Mutely lying, 
 Fire lambent laid on water, O! the pain 
 
 Kiss me, O heart, as if we both were dying ! 
 Kiss, as we could not ever kiss again ! 
 
 Kiss me, between the music of our sighing, 
 Lightning and rain ! 
 
 54
 
 Not only as the kiss of tender lovers 
 Let mingle also the sun's kiss to sea, 
 
 Also the wind's kiss to the bird that hovers, 
 
 The flower's kiss to the earth's deep greenery. 
 
 All elemental love closes and covers 
 Both you and me. 
 
 All shapes of silence and of sound and seeing 
 All lives of Nature molten into this, 
 
 The moonlight waking and the shadows fleeing, 
 Strange sorcery of unimagined bliss, 
 
 All breath breathing in ours ; mingled all being 
 Into the kiss. 
 
 55
 
 THK TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY 
 
 " The ship i> in per trim ; tlie merry \\;nd 
 Blows fiur from land." 
 
 Comedy ot Krror^. 
 
 Quite careless whether golden gales of wind 
 
 Fling" our boat forward, or the storm and spark 
 Of lightning lain]) or shroud us in the dark, 
 Careless if ever ' ind again we find, 
 
 Careless of all things, this love being blinds 
 \Ve put to sea. O gladly stand and mark 
 The diamond headland fall behind our barque, 
 Wrapped in shrine-shadow of love's central mind ! 
 
 We are alone to-day on the strange sea, 
 Di\ ider of the dawn's divinity 
 From sunset's splendour: our eternal noon 
 
 Of love recks little of eternity 
 
 And though the moon is dying, ourselves may swoon, 
 One deathless shape of the large-breasted moon.
 
 THE TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY 
 
 "But I perceive in you so excellent a touch 
 of modesty that you will not extort from me 
 what I am willing to keep in." 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 A curious conflict this of love and fear, 
 
 Honour and lust, and truth and trust beguiled ; 
 One in the semblance of a rose-bright child: 
 The other in a shape more gross and clear, 
 
 A fiercer woman-figure crowned severe 
 
 With garlands woven of scourges, but whose wild 
 Breast beat with splendour of sin, whose looks were mild, 
 Hiding the cruel smile behind a tear. 
 
 So she : u I know you never would "; yei ciid 
 Such acts that no end otherwise might be. 
 So I : "I will not ever pluck the flower"; 
 
 Yet strayed enchanted on the lawns forbid, 
 And bathed enamoured in the secret sea, 
 Both knowing our words were spoken for an hour. 
 
 57
 
 THE TNVKXTY-NINTH DAY 
 
 " IVr^evrr in that clear \vaythou goest, 
 And the gods strengthen the--. " 
 
 Pericles. 
 
 Linked in the tiny shelf upon the ship, 
 
 My blind eyes burned into her mild ones: limbs 
 Twined to each otru>r while fine dew bedims 
 Their quivering ski... -3 : lip fastened unto lip : 
 
 Whole soul and body frenzied meet and clip : 
 
 And the breath staggers, and the life-blood swims ! 
 Terrible gods chant black demoniac hymns 
 As the frail cords of honour strain and slip. 
 
 For in the midst of that tremendous tide 
 The mighty vigour of a god was mine ! 
 Drunk with desire, her lamentations died. 
 
 The dove gave place a moment to the swine ! 
 
 Rapturous draughts of madness ! Out she sighed 
 Uttermost life's love, and became a bride.
 
 THE THIRTIETH DAY 
 
 " For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful Que< 
 For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes." 
 
 King Henry IV 
 
 Bluer reproaches passed between us twain, 
 Hers real, mine with sneering logic sewn 
 Proving my trespass hardly half her own, 
 Its cause ; I proved her how she made me fain 
 
 And left me mad, and led through joy and pain 
 To that unthinkable thing: I might atone 
 No whit in this way: then that stubborn stone 
 My heart grew tears: we were good friends again. 
 
 Therefore at night I added nothing new : 
 Only a little while I lay with her 
 And with mere kisses sucked her soul away, 
 
 And made my banquet of immortal dew, 
 Demanding nothing but to minister 
 To her desire until the dawn grew grey. 
 
 59 
 
 en
 
 THE HAY WITHOUT A NUMBER* 
 
 " O never shall the sun that morrow see. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 \Ye 1 >st a day ! Xor kisses, nor regret. 
 
 Xor fear, nor pain, nor anything at all ! 
 
 The day was lost, evanished past recall. 
 
 That saw no sunrise, never saw sun set 
 F^r East and We t invisibly were met 
 
 In gateways ..either glad nor musical 
 
 Xor melancholy nor funereal. 
 
 Nought is there to remember nor forget. 
 
 Vet in my westward journey many hours 
 
 I stole, and now must pay them back again. 
 
 I plucked not one flower, but an hundred flowers 
 
 I bore a hundred passions in my brain- 
 King Solomon had three hundred paramours. 
 I quite agree that everything is vain. 
 
 Through crossing the iSoth degree in a Westward direc 
 tion. En. 
 
 60
 
 THE THIRTY-FIRST DAY 
 
 " You whoreson villain ! will you let it fall ?" 
 Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 The inexpiable fate whose shuddering wing 
 
 Fear fled from, changed the native deed of sin 
 Into a spasmic kiss too salt and keen, 
 Windless, that ended with a sterile sting 
 
 The earlier hour whose heart was full of spring ; 
 And the large love grew piteously lean ; 
 Dreadful, like death ; withdrawn and epicene 
 At the mad crisis of the eventful thing. 
 
 O that such tender fondness like a flower's 
 
 Should take such nameless infamy ! That we 
 Should pluck such bitter bloom, rooted in fear, 
 
 Salt with the scurf of some diseased sea, 
 
 Foul with the curse of God : that we are here, 
 Hating the night's inexorable hours. 
 
 61
 
 THI-; THIRTY-SECOND DAY 
 
 Me of my '.iv.ful pl'V.Miiv ~hr tvstra,ne< 
 And prayed nu 1 u:t '> >rl> MIMIKV." 
 
 How -weet the >ofi look- shot, endearing shame 
 
 With their warm fragrance of love's modest eyes! 
 
 The secret knowledge ot our secrecies 
 
 Shone from tl ir distance with a subtle flame, 
 
 And gave to piulei. y a rosier name 
 
 \\"hen the loiv^ lashes drooped, and samther si^hs 
 
 Tmk softer meanings, till my arteries 
 
 Throbbed with the _;lad desire that went and came. 
 
 " I charge \"ou in the very name of !o\(. 
 
 <Ji:oth i>he : " \Ve ha\e all day to >!eal below 
 And snatcli sliort kisses out of danger's throat. 
 
 Why beij you ni^ht: is not the clay enough?" 
 iiiu I : "The night is panting ami a^io\\- 
 To feel our hair distraught and limbs ailoat."
 
 THE THIRTY-THIRD DAY 
 
 " Clubs, clubs ! These lovers will not keep the p.., ice. 
 
 Titus Andronicus. 
 
 Xathless she locked her cabin-door to me. 
 
 All lovers guess the piteous night I passed 
 Shuddering phantoms, hideous and aghast, 
 Loomed, lust of hate ! toward me: how did she? 
 
 She never told : but I might surely see 
 
 In the drawn fare and haggard eyes what vast 
 
 Voices of misery had held her fast, 
 
 And made her curse her own lock's cruelty. 
 
 So by her beauty and my love we swore, 
 
 And by the li^ht within mine eyes, by her 
 Sweet shame: that never so \ve sunder again. 
 
 Hut she : " You swear 'by thy bright face' in vain ; 
 ' By thy sweet self you grow a perjurer; 
 Who have shamed my face and made me but an \\h<
 
 Till; THIRTY-FOURTH IMY 
 
 i i.-n. St< ;> tluTe. stop the >. 
 
 Mrr. Tho.: il-'-irf-t nv toM>n " inv t.iV 1 
 
 < 
 
 Sweet are the swift hard stni^le-? crc the kiss, 
 \\'lien tlie frail body bltislies into tear>, 
 And short l)reatlis cancel the loivjf si^hs, and fears 
 Constrain delijjb 1 . until their import is 
 
 Ma/iC foolish when t. c stru^rgU-'s synthesis 
 Leads to hot armistice, as dewy spheres 
 Glow, and increase the fury tli.it reveres 
 No God, no heaven but its own hell's bliss. 
 
 So after desperate shifts of modesty 
 
 \Ve could no more : loosened and lax we lay 
 Breathing and holding : then in amorous play 
 
 She laughed and left her body's love to me, 
 
 And kissed one kiss holding the heart of May, 
 And kissed again, and kissed our lives away.
 
 THE THIRTY-FIFTH DAY 
 
 " 1 cannot kiss, that i> the humour of it, hut .ul.cu. 
 
 K:n<; Hcmy \". 
 
 The third time bitterly came reason back. 
 Is it a fault in love when mornings rind 
 The soul grown sober and rethronecl the mind: 
 Or is it mere necessity to track 
 
 The candid chequer cross-wise to the black, 
 And love, not mutable, yet well inclined 
 To take his pleasure in becoming blind 
 After such sight mere day is wont to lack. 
 
 So we were angry with ourselves and said 
 
 We would not kiss two days, and we would part. 
 
 And she prayed heaven that she might be dead, 
 And I cursed heaven and my foolish head. 
 
 I strove to turn towards old shapes of Art ; 
 
 She, to some phantom faded from her heart.
 
 THK THIRTY-SIXTH DAY 
 
 i v. .:> not the r .in iiii.t v. 
 It \\ ,1- man u-d *. h.i-ntv. 
 
 I'lM'tllX .111(1 '1'UI t!<'. 
 
 Wi nv '.he star-; paled slowly in \he east 
 
 I could not sleep: and she- ho\v else? What rest 
 May a man kno\v until his quiet breast 
 IV.it- t> her tune? I garbed me as a priest 
 
 \n<l irved u> ;nU my Ho>t on (iod I feast! 
 \\ c \.\\- in naked chastity, caressed 
 On'ul-hke or dreaming, till the dawn repressed 
 ( \-\r -i^hs. mat nii]Uial yet hath never ceased. 
 
 Th.it \\.IN the best: far sundered by the tide 
 
 l>Morous, endless as Oceanus, 
 
 A M-rpc lit -river girdling the lan, r e earth, 
 Still in that pure embrace ue bring to birth 
 
 A thousand pleasant children born of us, 
 
 Sacred and sinless, if unsanctiried.
 
 LETHE 
 
 We have forgotten all the days of fear, 
 
 The nights of torment when the kiss expired, 
 Lost upon lips with love not overtired, 
 But fearing many things- the after year, 
 
 The end, the man O no, not him ! the tear, 
 
 The children's sorrow, and our own shame fired 
 Not less in doing all that love desired : 
 
 We have forgotten, surely being here ! 
 
 \Ve have forgotten every shape of sorrow, 
 Knowing no end to one night's ecstasy 
 In the night's kiss from morning that we borrow, 
 
 From the hard usurer, Eternity- 
 Seeing we have it in our power to die 
 Before the new kiss kindle for the morrow.
 
 IIK THIRTY SKVKNTI I DAY 
 
 Mortal- are not for nectar nil the time : 
 
 Ambrosia feed^ not men: nepenthe's s;p 
 
 \> only for a moment : then we dip 
 
 I>a( !v to the earth and leave the bed sub i; me. 
 
 And 1 .< our kis-.es to terrene rhyme. 
 So. once aurun before \ve left the ship 
 \Yi'.h ri^ht ^ood \\ill our bodies ciin- and -vp. 
 And the life's tlame >ink? as the ki-->cs climb. 
 
 There r.ever has been such a supreme ki-s 
 
 Since heaveii and earth be^an to be a^ this! 
 
 Doubt nothing of it! yet our spirits knev 
 Its sax'our \vas as roses fallen lo du^t : 
 
 Our proper food \vas of Selenian de\v. 
 
 And love without a battle conquered lust. 
 
 68
 
 THE THIRTY-EIGHTH DAY 
 
 " The carcass of a beauty spent and done." 
 Lover's Complaint. 
 
 < hie clay from landing. Kamakura sees 
 
 1'ass to the mighty shrine and shape of bronze 
 Me, pilgrim, murmuring pious orisons, 
 Taking my refuge in that House of Peace; 
 
 And after, sees my love, and doth not please. 
 
 She was too young to know that shrine the Son's, 
 < >r see the Yirgin's House in Kwan-se-on's ; 
 And when I told her, flushed, and bade me cease. 
 
 I ceased indeed! All hope of mental flower 
 
 She shattered in five minutes: following lust. 
 All intellectual communing did pass, 
 
 And all respect of mind : but love's high tower, 
 
 Stricken of lightning, stood: not fallen in dust,- 
 Beautiful fragments as of a Greek vase! 
 
 69
 
 I HK THIRTY-NINTH DAY 
 
 " Had I no eyes but cars, ni\ e.ir^ \\u'.i!<i iov 
 TV."' inv. ,:v 1 beauty and inv;-'blr 
 
 \Vm> ;M1(1 Afl .', . 
 
 Note from this day no possible event. 
 
 All secrets told, and all desire.^ fulfilled, 
 Primitive passion of our sou! ha^c killed. 
 \Ve dwell within ; \ilmer element 
 
 Perfectly pure and perfectly content. 
 
 The subtler splendour of our love has stilled 
 Those sombre glories that it never willed, 
 Those <^iant meaning that it never meant 
 
 Fire only is our substance : there we dwell, 
 The Salamandrine with the Salamander. 
 No fuel to crack, no water to make tunes. 
 
 No air to blow us hither and thither; well ! 
 
 At our own will through cosmic space we wander 
 Alive, the sun's beam mixing with the moon's.
 
 THE FORTIETH DAY 
 
 " A\vay, you rascally Althea's dream, ;i\\.:y ! 
 
 2 King Henry IV. 
 
 Mere terror struck into our souls, one shaft 
 
 Sudden and swift ; our punishment was here. 
 The shapeless form of an avenging fear 
 Shuddered within her ; from the deep rich draught 
 
 Of lively labour that her nights had quaffed 
 Rises a serpent : prescience of next year, 
 The springtide ; may the Minotaur appear, 
 Prodigious offspring of the fatal graft ? 
 
 The worst has happened. Time must now discover 
 What love had hidden from the wittol's eyes 
 (What hate may tell him if he read my song, 
 
 If he be subtle : not if he be wise). 
 
 In our despair came laughter to my lover . 
 u All's well as yet. I calculated wrong.'
 
 riir; FORTY-FIRST DAY 
 
 Hou things arc changed since Alice was so ill ! 
 !, 'ociri^ in hi^h fever. lay in bed, 
 \Vhiie my love smoothed the pillows tor my head. 
 Her calm looks chn-'ened me with dew t>< ^t;!l 
 
 Ail bar. c nf fever to the oul, and fill 
 
 My heart wiih pure lo\'e like a snowfall shed 
 Meeki\', a blossom wliere frail wliite arid red 
 \\\-r>_- ne\cr fren/.ied at some mad _;od's will. 
 
 She ^at and ^axed upon me all day 
 
 Someiimes she held my liands; then she would weep, 
 And then ^toop tenderly and kiss my lips, 
 
 Or lull me with some chaste and gentle son^ 
 
 Of angel love. Ni^hr's plume it- dewfall drips 
 As she still sits and watches me to sleep.
 
 THE FORTY-SECOND DAY 
 
 " Pol. No longer stay. 
 
 Leon. One seven-night longer. 
 Pol. Very booth, to :norn/\. 
 
 Winter -i Tale. 
 
 I could not let her leave me the day after. 
 Also \ve must wait till the month cle<. ide 
 Whether the mother stood behind the bride. 
 In any other case what love and laughter 
 
 Such tidings of an angel's birth would waft her; 
 Now, what a fear! And so she would abide 
 Another vessel and another tide. 
 Until we held the key of the hereafter. 
 
 But this sad spectre could not change our calm. 
 The day went by more peaceful than a dream 
 Dreamt by a maiden in pure winds of balm; 
 
 Love's sweet still music like a far-off psalm 
 
 Thrilled our quiet pulses: with the intent supreme 
 ''This one week more a century shall seem." 
 
 73
 
 AT LAST 
 
 ( ) tearless sorrow of !ony years, depart! 
 > !oy of miiuue^ that he a ;.;<-. Ion.,, 
 Come! Let the. choral pulse and atren^th ol'son_ 
 
 tkiuken. and the lire o f 'e and lyre dart. 
 
 An arrow red with blood and bri-ht with art, 
 And co\er all the licry blooiri oi wron^ 
 \\'ith blo->^.)in^ blacker where the blood run- stron. 
 
 As our lips pale, their life tied to the heart. 
 
 Surely we are as dead, we loving so, 
 
 So bitterly, so keenly; let no breath 
 
 Persuade us we are living and must die! 
 Better believe eternal kisses f 1ow 
 
 Under the strong rude current miscalled death. 
 
 The lotus-river where our bodies lie! 
 
 74
 
 THE FORTY-THIRD DAY 
 
 ' ' O theft most base 
 
 That we hive stolen what we d; f-vir to k- ;>. 
 Troilr.- ami Civ-sid,i. 
 
 I ,.vp'>>-ible that we shall ever pan! 
 
 The; heart shrinks back from thinking it, the mir.< 
 Hates it, and prays as love is to be blind. 
 Yet \ve kno\v \vell that no magician's art 
 
 Can keep our two selves near their single heart. 
 
 Self-mocked I ur^ed her " Come and leave Ix-hii 
 All fear and friends and children: we shall find 
 Love risen sole without a counterpart.'' 
 
 Even while I begged her, I well knew she must. 
 \Ve could not, loving to see children lau-h. 
 Let cowards twit them with their mother's lust. 
 
 Even our own purity confirmed the trust. 
 
 How long, O Lord, how long? Too long by half 
 Till men read, wondering, wedlock's epitaph. 
 
 75
 
 Till: l-'ORTY-rOUKTH PAY 
 
 >lccp. ( } deep -plendour of disastrous ye.ii>. 
 
 lione like a .iiar fallen at 'he tali of ni^hi! 
 
 \Yake. O mute mouth ami maiesty cl li^ln. 
 
 Mavlc of no MHind at c\en >;ltnce hta:>. 
 Uut born of strings inian^ible, oi >plic!'cs 
 
 Shaken of lo\ e, a '.nixhticr music's r.ii./ni 
 
 Frai'er to ^ouncl than dev.fali i> to -i-Jit! 
 
 \\"ake, () b\\'eet roul :n< orporate of tears! 
 
 l'r else dream on ami let no tears herein 
 
 Loves crown of thorns, ensanguine dirulenu 
 But let pale kisses blossom, starry shrine 
 
 Of lips most deathlike, that endure divine 
 
 Pa?t sleep's or parting's, or death's spoil of them 
 In the pomegranate walks of Proserpine!
 
 THE FORTY-FIFTH DAV 
 
 " Peace, fool : I h;uv not (!r 
 Troilus and ( iw-:i'.. 
 
 Thou knowest, O Love, how tired our bodies grow 
 Forgotten in quick converse, love to love : 
 How the flame flickers of the ghost above. 
 The spirit's kiss; the sleepless to-and-fro 
 
 Movement of love's desire too strong to know 
 Or care for that it takes its substance of 
 As if life's burden were not drear enough 
 Or death's deliverance not so far and slow 
 
 Our bodies almost perish, with one thought 
 
 Crowned and completed, consecrate and shrine -1 
 A perfect temple of tine amber wrought. 
 
 Whose shrine's the body and whose lamp the mind. 
 The heart is priest and sacrifice in one; 
 And, where it sinned or sorrowed, shall aione. 
 
 77
 
 I HI- FORTY-SIXTH DAY 
 
 c t ou k no\\ 
 
 I ): 
 
 luiin ' ' 
 
 H',i- it .1 seii.^e of uttermost relief 
 
 \Yc gladdened \\ith. and hade our fears iorL;et? 
 \Yas thei'e no siil>tle fi'a^ranre of" regret? 
 For ,,ie at least, a p. ^ of pcrl'ec i ^rief? 
 
 It.id it been otherwise. 1 would lit; chief 
 
 And drixe her to ahandon all thin^s \'e - 
 In mere despair, that hy-and-hv slial! ^ei 
 Youn;.; comfort in a hahe beyond belief. 
 
 < >"d \\oultl not cur>c and i.)le us to such measure: 
 \\'c \\ere not sad enough nor ^'uid enough ! 
 A little time of misery and pleasure; 
 
 fain Mtran^lm^ half the ecstasy thereof 
 
 ^uchal! oui xain, \vho gained the utmo.-t treasure, 
 <>itt of the ui/artl uand and cup ol lc\e.
 
 THE FORTY-SEVENTH DAY 
 
 Thou ever young, fresh, loved, and delicate wooer." 
 
 Tmion of At her..-?. 
 
 The little money that we had to spend 
 
 Was gone long since: the little more I stole 
 Followed: I pledged then all things but my soul 
 i On which the usurers refused to lend; 
 
 To raise our utmost, till a ship should send 
 Much plenty from the Sunset: to control 
 And stop her yet a little while, the whole 
 I meant to waste before the week should end. 
 
 Thus we went Northward to the capital, 
 
 Desolate huts and ways funereal, 
 
 An hateful town ; earthquake and heat and rain 
 Made the place wretched, did not love enchain 
 
 There even as here: what mattered aught at all 
 
 While love was hovering and our lips were fain ': 
 
 79
 
 Tin; roRTY-riciiTH PAY 
 
 \' : -li HI; v. h.' t i 'tin ! 1.1 :'.'. ' ' ' 
 ! .' .! : ;, , 
 
 i 
 
 ' Hn i.i.i- takr^ on i i : r. ^-- il melani holy. 
 
 The >;\ month-,' ,.J^i"y <: lik 1 |n'i-t on cai 
 About to yiehl lo H.uir- hriila! birth, 
 The \vnrld'-- i >\ I/.]).; h\ v, ith I'cr^c-pi:' 
 
 N ('. I n Vv M It. \\hilc tun in., to lu-: kt-\ 
 
 M \ -, .. 'i - < 'i -oi'i o\\ . , u r-ft let mirth : 
 
 " 1 am ' om iiK'fd a; l,i>; ot ir.nney"-- \\orth. 
 1- 01 l.u k ot \\i'.!'.h -i;e ra;in"t cro^s the ea. 
 
 I tin! hei . i ke .', I < 'I. a da) too - > >n. 
 
 She \vciH .Hid told her >tor\ to tin.- pi'ie-t : 
 She ue|:. and borrowed nioiu-y ot the bca>t. 
 
 She told me >he would -o; June teli li'oin June. 
 I. left in limbo: >he to front the elate 
 Cuckold v lawyer in the L . . . S . . . S . .
 
 THE FORTY-NINTH DAY 
 
 " Let me t \vino 
 Mine arms about that body.' 
 Cunolanu-. 
 
 I stole her money, even then to prove 
 
 She had no wings to fly with: but I knew 
 What to her hateful duty there was due. 
 And how the hateful system stank thereof: 
 
 I let her go, both weeping, both enough 
 
 Heart-broken: no farewell went ever through- 
 Words came not: only ever: " I love you!" 
 With broken kisses and stained cheeks of love. 
 
 So all day long and half the night we wandered 
 Down deep lanes and in gardens, like lost souls. 
 Strong kisses that had surfeited a score 
 
 Of earthly bridals in an hour we squandered ; 
 
 And tears like fire and looks like burning coals 
 Without a word passed on for evermore. 
 
 81
 
 THE FIFTIETH DAY 
 
 Sutt'olk. " If I rlepait from thee I cannot live. 
 
 Margaret. 1ft me hear from thee. 
 
 Tor \\!u > reM.>e'er thoi; art in thi.s world's i^'.'j 
 I ' ,ive an Ir;.- that -hall nrul thee nut." 
 
 2 Kin^ I lenry \'I. 
 
 At noon she sailed for home, a weeping bride 
 Widowed before the honeymoon was done. 
 Always before th< rising of the sun 
 I swore to come in ^pirit to her side 
 
 And lie like love; and >he at eventid^ 
 
 Swore to seek me and Bather one by one 
 The threads of labyrinthine love new spun, 
 Cretan for monstrous shadows serpent-eyed. 
 
 So the last kiss passed like a poison-pain, 
 
 Knowing ue nii^ht not ever kiss again. 
 
 Mad tears fell fast: " Next year! ' ; in cruel distress 
 We sobbed, and stretched our arms out, and despaired, 
 
 And parted. Out the brute-side of truth flared ; 
 
 "Thank God I've finished with that foolishness : " 
 
 82
 
 II 
 
 Ah ! there be two sides to all shapes of truth ! 
 I might indeed go back to bitter toil, 
 Prune the mind's vine, and gather in the spoil 
 Rough-conquered from books, men, fields, without ruth 
 
 Pillaging Nature, pawning strength and youth 
 For some strange guerdon (or its counterfoil) 
 Gainless or not-to-be-gained, priestly or royal, 
 Profane, canaille I know not, in good sooth ! 
 
 I might do this : or else I might repose 
 
 Wrapt in the urned leaves of my love's blown rose, 
 
 Seek her in spirit, and commune, and wait 
 Her freedom and the rapture to enclose 
 
 In my own house her beauty intimate. 
 
 I am a fool, tossing a coin with Fate.
 
 II 
 
 Is love indeed eternal? Otherwise 
 
 I -^ evolution an e'ernal plan? 
 
 Must I move up ard in the stream of Man, 
 
 God-ward: my life as Christ to sarririce, 
 As Buddha to repre^ : to x rou s u ''>e, 
 
 Space, time shall lie within my tinker-span? 
 
 I know not which I wish : either I can ; 
 
 Not both, unless all meditation lies. 
 
 I am not sure: if love as great as ours 
 
 May not be God to part of us at least, 
 Leaving the Rest to find its heights and powers 
 
 In other spheres; that, night's enamoured priest; 
 This, on the lake the dewy lotus-tlowers 
 That lift their jewelled hearts toward the East. 
 
 84
 
 AFTER 
 
 Xo\v, when the sun falls in the dismal sky 
 
 And no light leaps beneath the plunging prow, 
 I know the fullness of my sorrow now: 
 That all my talk and laughter was a lie; 
 
 That as each hour widens the ^ulfs that sigh 
 
 Between us; the truth scores upon my brow 
 
 Sigils of silence, burns in me the vow 
 
 " I love you, and shall love you till I die." 
 
 Whether next year, as fondly we made oath 
 Shall see us meet at least, whether as wife 
 I shall at last gather the whole vow's breach 
 
 Xot heaven nor hell shall break our solemn troth. 
 I love you, and shall love you all my life. 
 I love you, and shall love you after death.
 
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