Chapter 6 No.6

Mary lying awake in bed.

O let me reason it out calmly! Have I

No stars to take me through this terror, poured

Suddenly, dreadfully, on to my heart and spirit?

Why is it I, of all the world I only

Who must so love against nature? I knew

Always, that not like harbour for a boat,

Not a smooth safety, Love would take my soul;

But like going naked and empty-handed

Into the glitter and hiss of a wild sword-play,

I should fall in love, and in fear and danger:

But a danger of white light, a fear of sharpness

Keen and close to my heart, not as it proves,-

My heart hit by a great dull mace of terror!

* * * * *

So it has come to me, my hope, my wonder!

Now I perceive that I was one of those

Who, till love comes, have breath and beating blood

In one continual question. All the beauty

My happy senses took till now has been

Drugg'd with a fiery want and discontent,

That settled in my soul and lay there burning.

The hills, wearing their green ample dresses

Right in the sky's blue courts, with swerving folds

Along the rigour of their stony sinews-

(Often they garr'd my breath catch and stumble),-

The moon that through white ghost of water went,

Till she was ring'd about with an amber window,-

The summer stars seen winking through dusk leaves;

All the earth's manners and most loveliness,

All made my asking spirit stir within me,

And throb with a question, whose answer is,

(As now I know, but then I did not know)

There is a Man somewhere meant for me.-

And I have seen the face of him for whom

My soul was made!

Ah, somewhere? Where is that?

Have I not dreamt that he is gone away,

Gone ere he loved me? Now I lose myself.

I only have seen my boy's murder'd head.

* * * * *

Yes, again light breaks through and quells my thought.

The whole earth seemed as it belonged to me,

A message spoken out in green and blue

Specially to my heart; and it would say

That some time, out of the human multitude

A face would look into my soul, and sign

All my nature, easily as it were wax,

With its dear image; but after that impress

I would all harden, so that nought could raze

The minting of that seal from off my being.

And yesterday it fell. An idle whim

To see the rebels on the Scottish Gate,-

And there was the face of him I was made to love,

There,-ah God,-on the gate, my murder'd lad!

Did any girl have first-sight love like this?

Not to have ever seen him, only seen

Such piteous token that he has been born,

Lived and grown up to beauty, the man who was meant

To sleep upon my breast, and dead before

The sweet custom of love could be between us!

To have but seen his face?-Is that enough

To make me clear he is my man indeed?

Why, sure there are tales bordering on my lot

In misery?-Of hearts who have been stabbed

By knowledge that their mates were in the earth,

Yet never could come near enough to be healed;

Of those who have gone longing all a life,

Because a voice heard singing or a gesture

Seen from afar gospell'd them of love;

And no more than the mere announcement had.

Ah, but all these to mine were kindly dealing;

For not till they'd trepann'd him out of life

Did he, poor laggard, come to claim my soul.-

O my love, but your ears played you falsely

When they were taken by Death's wily tunes!

* * * * *

Am I so hardly done to, who have seen

My lover's face, been near enough to worship

The very writing of his spirit in flesh?

For having that in my ken, I am not far

From loving with my eyes all his body.

What a set would his shoulders have, and neck,

To bear his goodly-purposed head; what gait

And usage of his limbs!-Ah, do you smile?

Why, even so I knew your smile would be,

Just such an over-brimming of your soul.

O love, love, love, then you have come to me!

How I have stayed aching for you! Come close,

Here's where you should have been long time, long time.

It is your rightful place. And I had left

Thinking you'ld come and kiss me over my heart!

Ah lad, my lad, they told me you were dead.