Collected Works (Vol. I)

THE POEM 59 my hands, and it was happy, and then I dropped down somehow into the darkness and the bird had gone—only it got so con- fused, and IT woke up. I hear steps ! Est [2 covr/dor). Did you call, Percy? you were in pain, I heard a cry as if PERCY, Esme, I will come and talk to you in the moonlight. IT want to say something that I couldn’t say before, because my heart choked me. oSME. Come out, Percy, the moon is so white, looking out of the black sky. The sky is quite black near the moon; only far down where there are no more bright stars it is a deep, deep blue. It is bluer and deeper than the sea, PERCY. It is like your eyes. [Comes oud into corridor.) Esmé! I have looked into your eyes as your eyes look into ifleaven, and thereI have found my Ileaven. O serene depths! O faultless face of my desire! O white brow too clear! I sin against your holiness by my presence. Only the moon should see you, Esmé. EsSME [Aad 72 tears]. You don’t mean like that, Percy, quite. Why do you say that? Enter VAUGHAN 21 shadow. He draws back and stands watching. PERCY.° Oh, you are crying, my heart! Do you cry because I have spoken and touched with fire the sweet child-love we have lived in all this year? Or is it that you do not under- stand? Or are you sorry? Or are you glad ? | ESME. Iam very, very glad. [7#ey kiss. af littl: cloud passes across the moon wethout dimming tls hrévhiness.| Vercy! Percy! PERCY. My wife, my own wife, will you kiss me? EsME. Iam too happy to kiss you ! PERCY. [’smé, my Esmé. And we will write our poem now together. FisM&£. I cannot write ; we will live our poem now together. PERCY. Dear heart, dear heart! And she will give us light, our dear moon out yonder, always a pure cold light: and our life shall answer a purer, warmer flame. She is like a maiden covered with lilies; your lilies have kissed roses. And when the moon’s light fails, the light of your song. PERCY. Let that light be drawn from [Heaven too! EsSME. Oh, Percy, I am so glad, so glad ! PERCY. Esmé ! EsMk, When will you begin your great poem-— now ?