Collected Works (Vol. II)

THE SEVENTEENTH DAY 71 Might shelter love in some wave-carven tomb.| Of man and maid in all the world But Maytime shone in us; with words Is stilled the swift caress, of art Because my lover has me curled I drew her down reluctant to my heart, In her own loveliness. When night was silence and my bed| No kiss be such a night as this !— the gloom. Unless my Alice be the kiss. So without sin we took strange sacrament, No blade of grass awaiting takes Whose wine was kisses, and whose bread The dew, fresh-fallen above, the flower Because my lover swoons, and slakes Of fast and fervent cleaving breast to Her body’s thirst of love. breast. This night no dewfall from the blue !— As lily bends to lily we were bent, Unless my Alice be the dew. Not t : all th ° inwer man fo womans 3 “| This night—O never dawn shall crest Of martyred Virgins crowned our dan- The world of wakening, Because my lover has my breast gerous quest. : On hers for dawn and spring. This night shall never be withdrawn— Unless my Alice be the dawn. ALICE. THE roses of the world are sad, THE SEVENTEENTH DAY. The water-lilies pale, “ B lover takes her lad . Now I want ecause my . Spirits to enforce, art to enchant.” Beneath the moonlight veil. Tempest. 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. So silent are the thrush, the lark ! The nightingale’s at rest, ‘Because my lover loves the dark, And has me in her breast. No song this happy night be heard !— Unless my Alice be the bird. The sea that roared around the house - - Ts fallen from alarms, Because my lover calls me spouse, And takes me to her arms. This night no sound of breakers be !— Unless my Alice be the sea. LasT night—but the boy shrieked in’s sleep —then, there I had ended all! track That leads from green or white-crowned hours to black, The pleasant portals of the scorpion snare, First gleaming toils of an enchantress’ hair That afterward shall change their fer- vours slack To strong gripe of a devil-fish: go back ? The hand is put forth to the plough— beware ! Having ingressed the I took my shrine down :! at the night we lay Four hours debating between fear andsin: Whether our love went deeper than the skin, 1 Meaning that spiritual work was aban- doned for the moment, and that he wished to use the room for a profane purpose.