Collected Works (Vol. II)

84 ALICE: AN ADULTERY .- 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 ? THE FORTY-EIGHTH DAY. ‘ Tet us return And strain what other means is left to us In our dear peril.” Timon of Athens. Our love takes on a tinge of melancholy, The six months glory of life past on earth About to yield to Hades’ bridal birth, The world’s sad sympathy with Perse- phone. | | Yet I myself, while tuning to her kéy My sighs of sorrow, mused in secret mirth: ‘‘T am convinced at last of money’s worth, For lack of which she cannot cross the sea.” I told her, like a fool, a day too soon. She went and told her story to the priest ; She wept, and borrowed money of the | beast. She told me she would go: June fell from June. I, left in limbo; she, to front the elate Cuckoldy lawyer in the Lone Star State. THE FORTY-NINTH DAY. ‘‘Let me twine Mine arms about that body.” Coriolanus. 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 there- of: 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. wan- dered oO 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 burn- ing coals, Without a word passed on for evermore. THE FIFTIETH DAY. Suffolk, ‘‘IfI depart from thee I cannot live.”’ Margaret. ‘*let me hear from thee, For whereso’er thou art in this world’s globe I have an Iris that shall find thee out.” 2 King Henry V1, I. AT noon she sailed for home, a weeping bride | Widowed before the honeymoon was done. Always before the rising of the sun I swore to come in spirit to her side And lie like love; and she at eventide Swore to seek me and gather 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 we might not ever kiss again. Mad tears fell fast: ‘‘ Next year!” in cruel distress 1 The reference is still to the Minotaur, who dwelt in a labyrinth in Crete.