The Soul of Osiris

THE GATE OF THE SANCTUARY. 65 Yet the thought chilled me as I touched the reins. Ah ! the poor horse, he will not. So remains, Divided in his love. With mastered tears I stride toward the parapet. My ears Catch his low call ; and now a song complains. The bridge is bleeding and the river hears. Ah ! God ! I cannot live for pity deep Of that heart-quelling chant—I could not sleep Ever again to think of it. I close My hearing with my fingers. Gently goes A quivering foot above them as they weep— I weep, I also, as the river flows. Slowly the bridge subsides, and I am flung Deep in the tears and terrors never sung. I swim with sorrow bursting at my breast. Yet I am cleansed, and find some little rest. Still from my agonised unspeaking tongue Breaks : I must go, go onward to the quest. Again the cursed cry : “ What quest is this ? Is it worth heaven in thy lover’s kiss ? A queen, a queen, to kiss and never tire ! Thy queen, quick-breathing for your twin desire ! ” I shudder, for the mystery of bliss ; I go, heart crying and a soul on fire ! “ Resolve all question by a moonward tread. Follow the moon ! ” Even so the king had said.