Oracles

ASSUMPTA CANIDIA 93 No shadow in my mind to prove a sun ; No sorrow to declare that joy exists ; A cycle of dim spectres in the mists Moves just a little ; lastly there is One, One central Being, one elusive shape, Not to aspire to, not to love ; alas ! Only a memory in the agèd mass Of chained ones bound to me without escape ! Oh, doom of God ! Oh, brand how worse than Cain’s ! Divided being, undivided pains ! What is this life ? (To call it life that grows No inch throughout all time.) This bitterness Too weak and hateful to be called distress ? Slow memory working backward only knows There was some horror grown to it for kin ; Some final leprous growth that took my brain, Weaving a labyrinth of dullest pain From the sweet scarlet threat I thought was sin. I cannot sin ! Alas, one sin were sweet ! But sin is living—and we cannot meet ! So long ago, so miserably long ! I was a maiden—oh how rich and rare Seemed the soft sunshine woven in my hair ! How keen the music of my body’s song ! How white the blossom of my body’s light ! How red the lips, how languorous the eyes, How made for pleasure, for the sleepy sighs Softer than sleep ; amorous dew-dreams of night