Maurine and Other Poems Part 7

But G.o.d implanted in each human heart A natural horror, and a sickly dread Of that accursed, slimy, creeping thing That squirms a limbless carca.s.s o'er the ground.

And where that inborn loathing is not found You'll find the serpent qualities instead.

Who fears it not, himself is next of kin, And in his bosom holds some treacherous art Whereby to counteract its venomed sting.

And all are sired by Satan--Chief of Sin.

Who loathes not that foul creature of the dust, However fair in seeming, I distrust.

I woke from my unconsciousness, to know I leaned upon a broad and manly breast, And Vivian's voice was speaking, soft and low, Sweet whispered words of pa.s.sion, o'er and o'er.

I dared not breathe. Had I found Eden's sh.o.r.e?

Was this a foretaste of eternal bliss?

"My love," he sighed, his voice like winds that moan Before a rain in Summer time, "My own, For one sweet stolen moment, lie and rest Upon this heart that loves and hates you both!

O fair false face! Why were you made so fair!

O mouth of Southern sweetness! that ripe kiss That hangs upon you, I do take an oath _His_ lips shall never gather. There!--and there!

I steal it from him. Are you his--all his?

Nay you are mine, this moment, as I dreamed-- Blind fool--believing you were what you seemed-- You would be mine in all the years to come.

Fair fiend! I love and hate you in a breath.

O G.o.d! if this white pallor were but _death_, And I were stretched beside you, cold and dumb, My arms about you, so--in fond embrace!

My lips pressed, so--upon your dying face!"

"Woman, how dare you bring me to such shame!

How dare you drive me to an act like this, To steal from your unconscious lips the kiss You lured me on to think my rightful claim!

O frail and puny woman! could you know The devil that you waken in the hearts You snare and bind in your enticing arts, The thin, pale stuff that in your veins doth flow Would freeze in terror.

Strange you have such power To please, or pain us, poor, weak, soulless things-- Devoid of pa.s.sion as a senseless flower!

Like b.u.t.terflies, your only boast, your wings.

There, now, I scorn you--scorn you from this hour, And hate myself for having talked of love!"

He pushed me from him. And I felt as those Doomed angels must, when pearly gates above Are closed against them.

With a feigned surprise I started up and opened wide my eyes, And looked about. Then in confusion rose And stood before him.

"Pardon me, I pray!"

He said quite coldly. "Half an hour ago I left you with the company below, And sought this cliff. A moment since you cried, It seemed, in sudden terror and alarm.

I came in time to see you swoon away.

You'll need a.s.sistance down the rugged side Of this steep cliff. I pray you take my arm."

So, formal and constrained, we pa.s.sed along, Rejoined our friends, and mingled with the throng To have no further speech again that day.

Next morn there came a bulky doc.u.ment, The legal firm of Blank & Blank had sent, Containing news unlooked for. An estate Which proved a cosy fortune--no-wise great Or princely--had in France been left to me, My grandsire's last descendant. And it brought A sense of joy and freedom in the thought Of foreign travel, which I hoped would be A panacea for my troubled mind, That longed to leave the olden scenes behind With all their recollections, and to flee To some strange country.

I was in such haste To put between me and my native land The briny ocean's desolating waste, I gave Aunt Ruth no peace, until she planned To sail that week, two months: though she was fain To wait until the Springtime. Roy Montaine Would be our guide and escort.

No one dreamed The cause of my strange hurry, but all seemed To think good fortune had quite turned my brain.

One bright October morning, when the woods Had donned their purple mantles and red hoods In honor of the Frost King, Vivian came, Bringing some green leaves, tipped with crimson flame,-- First trophies of the Autumn time.

And Roy Made a proposal that we all should go And ramble in the forest for a while.

But Helen said she was not well--and so Must stay at home. Then Vivian, with a smile, Responded, "I will stay and talk to you, And they may go;" at which her two cheeks grew Like twin blush roses;--dyed with love's red wave, Her fair face shone transfigured with great joy.

And Vivian saw--and suddenly was grave.

Roy took my arm in that protecting way Peculiar to some men, which seems to say, "I s.h.i.+eld my own," a manner pleasing, e'en When we are conscious that it does not mean More than a simple courtesy. A woman Whose heart is wholly feminine and human, And not uns.e.xed by hobbies, likes to be The object of that tender chivalry, That guardians.h.i.+p which man bestows on her, Yet mixed with deference; as if she were Half child, half angel.

Though she may be strong, n.o.ble and self-reliant, not afraid To raise her hand and voice against all wrong And all oppression, yet if she be made, With all the independence of her thought, A woman womanly, as G.o.d designed, Albeit she may have as great a mind As man, her brother, yet his strength of arm His muscle and his boldness she has not, And cannot have without she loses what Is far more precious, modesty and grace.

So, walking on in her appointed place, She does not strive to ape him, nor pretend But that she needs him for a guide and friend, To s.h.i.+eld her with his greater strength from harm.

We reached the forest; wandered to and fro Through many a winding path and dim retreat.

Till I grew weary: when I chose a seat Upon an oak tree, which had been laid low By some wind storm, or by some lightning stroke.

And Roy stood just below me, where the ledge On which I sat sloped steeply to the edge Of sunny meadows lying at my feet.

One hand held mine; the other grasped a limb That cast its checkered shadows over him; And, with his head thrown back, his dark eyes raised And fixed upon me, silently he gazed Until I, smiling, turned to him and spoke: "Give words, my cousin, to those thoughts that rise, And, like dumb spirits, look forth from your eyes."

The smooth and even darkness of his cheek Was stained one moment by a flush of red.

He swayed his lithe form nearer as he stood Still clinging to the branch above his head.

His brilliant eyes grew darker; and he said, With sudden pa.s.sion, "Do you bid me speak?

I can not, then, keep silence if I would.

That hateful fortune, coming as it did, Forbade my speaking sooner; for I knew A harsh tongued world would quickly misconstrue My motive for a meaner one. But, sweet, So big my heart has grown with love for you I can not shelter it, or keep it hid.

And so I cast it throbbing at your feet, For you to guard and cherish, or to break.

Maurine, I love you better than my life.

My friend--my cousin--be still more, my wife!

Maurine, Maurine, what answer do you make?"

I scarce could breathe for wonderment; and numb With truth that fell too suddenly, sat dumb With sheer amaze, and stared at Roy with eyes That looked no feeling but complete surprise.

He swayed so near his breath was on my cheek.

"Maurine, Maurine," he whispered, "will you speak?"

Then suddenly, as o'er some magic gla.s.s One picture in a score of shapes will pa.s.s, I seemed to see Roy glide before my gaze.

First, as the playmate of my earlier days-- Next, as my kin--and then my valued friend, And last, my lover. As when colors blend In some unlooked-for group before our eyes, We hold the gla.s.s, and look them o'er and o'er So now I gazed on Roy in his new guise, In which he ne'er appeared to me before.

His form was like a panther's in its grace, So lithe and supple, and of medium height, And garbed in all the elegance of fas.h.i.+on.

His large black eyes were full of fire and pa.s.sion, And in expression fearless, firm, and bright.

His hair was like the very deeps of night, And hung in raven cl.u.s.ters 'round a face Of dark and flas.h.i.+ng beauty.

He was more Like some romantic maiden's grand ideal Than like a common being. As I gazed Upon the handsome face to mine upraised, I saw before me, living, breathing, real, The hero of my early day-dreams: though So full my heart was with that clear-cut face, Which, all unlike, yet claimed the hero's place, I had not recognized him so before, Or thought of him, save as a valued friend.

So now I called him, adding, "Foolish boy!

Each word of love you utter aims a blow At that sweet trust I had reposed in you.

I was so certain I had found a true, Steadfast man friend, on whom I could depend, And go on wholly trusting, to the end.

Why did you shatter my delusion, Roy, By turning to a lover?"

"Why, indeed!

Because I loved you more than any brother, Or any friend could love." Then he began To argue like a lawyer, and to plead With all his eloquence. And, listening, I strove to think it was a goodly thing To be so fondly loved by such a man, And it were best to give his wooing heed, And not deny him. Then before my eyes In all its clear-cut majesty, that other Haughty and poet-handsome face would rise And rob my purpose of all life and strength.

Roy urged and argued, as Roy only could, With that impetuous, boyish eloquence.

He held my hands, and vowed I must, and should Give some least hope; till, in my own defense, I turned upon him, and replied at length: "I thank you for the n.o.ble heart you offer: But it deserves a true one in exchange.

I could love you if I loved not another Who keeps my heart; so I have none to proffer."

Then, seeing how his dark eyes flashed, I said, "Dear Roy! I know my words seem very strange; But I love one I cannot hope to wed.

A river rolls between us, dark and deep.

To cross it--were to stain with blood my hand.

You force my speech on what I fain would keep In my own bosom, but you understand?

My heart is given to love that's sanctified, And now can feel no other.

Be you kind Dear Roy, my brother! speak of this no more, Lest pleading and denying should divide The hearts so long united. Let me find In you my cousin and my friend of yore And now come home. The morning, all too soon And unperceived, has melted into noon.

Helen will miss us, and we must return."

He took my hand, and helped me to arise, Smiling upon me with his sad dark eyes.

Where pa.s.sion's fires had, sudden, ceased to burn.

"And so," he said, "too soon and unforeseen My friends.h.i.+p melted into love, Maurine.

But, sweet! I am not wholly in the blame, For what you term my folly. You forgot, So long we'd known each other, I had not In truth a brother's or a cousin's claim.