Emblems Of Love Part 10

_Katrina_.

She's ill or fey; They are too much for her; and I truly Am nearly weeping for them and their wives and la.s.ses.

Her eyes don't budge! She's fastened on his face With just the look that one would have to greet The ghost of one's own self. See, all her blood Is trapt in her heart,--pale she is as he.

_A Man in the Crowd_.

Can't you see she's fainting? 'Tis no sight For halfling girls.

_Jean_.

Halfling yourself.

_Katrina_.

Mary!

_Mary_.

Let us go home now: help me there, Katrina.

_Katrina_.

Yes, dear, but are you ill?

_Mary_.

No: let us go home.

_Katrina (to Jean)_.

Come, Jean. Did you not hear her gasp? We must Be with her on her way home.

_Jean_.

You go then.

I've not lookt half enough at these. Besides--

[MARY _and_ KATRINA _go_.

Well, sir, how dare you speak to girls like that, When they're alone?

_The Man_.

You needn't be so short; I guess you're one to take fine care of yourself.

_Jean_.

Yes, and I'ld choose a better-looking man Than you, my chap, if I wanted company.

_The Man_.

Come this way, you'll see better.

_Jean_.

Impudence!

Who said your arm might be there?

_The Man_.

O, it's all right.

_Jean_.

And what do you think of the rebels now they're dead?

III

_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 mult.i.tude 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 G.o.d,--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 wors.h.i.+p 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-br.i.m.m.i.n.g 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.

IV

_At Dawn. The Scottish Gate_.

_Mary (on her way to the gate, singing to herself)_.

As a wind that has run all day Among the fragrant clover, At evening to a valley comes; So comes to me my lover.

And as all night a honey'd warmth Stays where the wind did lie, So when my lover leaves my arms My heart's all honey.