That grace could meet with disrespect; Thus she with happy favour feeds Allegiance from a love so high That thence no false conceit proceeds Of difference bridged, or state put by; Because although in act and word As lowly as a wife can be, Her manners, when they call me lord, Remind me 'tis by courtesy; Not with her least consent of will, Which would my proud affection hurt, But by the noble style that still Imputes an unattained desert; Because her gay and lofty brows, When all is won which hope can ask, Reflect a light of hopeless snows That bright in virgin ether bask; Because, though free of the outer court I am, this Temple keeps its shrine Sacred to Heaven; because in short, She's not and never can be mine. 15 20 25 30 5 15 And two French copper coins, ranged there with careful art, To comfort his sad heart. So when that night I pray'd 5 To God, I wept, and said: Ah, when at last we lie with tranced breath, Not vexing Thee in death, And Thou rememberest of what toys We made our joys, ΤΟ How weakly understood Thy great commanded good, 20 25 Yet so revolves the axle of the world, ΙΟ 20 And native duty, as the good man walks Thy glad perambulation; and thou, far 523 Not sovran nor in fee of paramount power; Moons round your worlds, worlds round your suns, suns round Such satraps as in orderly degree A vaster cycle-ye, so moved, commoved, 30 And seest the ordered whole - nought uninvolved But all involved to one direct result 40 One power, one tune, one time, upon one path Move with thee moving, thou, amid thy host Marchest ah whither? O God, before Whom We marshal thus Thy legioned works to take The secret of Thy counsel, and array Congress and progress, and, with multitude As conquerors and to conquer, in consent Of universal law, approach Thy bound, Thine immemorial bound, and at Thy face Heaven and earth flee away; O Thou Lord God, Whether, O absolute existence, Thou, 51 The Maker, makest, and this fair we see The unportioned snows; or whether, meditating Self-continent, Thou thinkest and we live, A little while forgettest and we fade, 61 ΙΟ To mine, and, clasp'd, they tread the equal lea His Helena and Hermia. Shall we fight? Nor force nor fraud shall sunder us! O ye Its breathing book; live worthy of that grand Far, yet unsevered, children brave and free 10 Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, For service meetly worn; Her hair that lay along her back Her seemed she scarce had been a day The wonder was not yet quite gone From that still look of hers; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years. (To one, it is ten years of years. Fell all about my face. It was the rampart of God's house By God built over the sheer depth So high, that looking downward thence It lies in Heaven, across the flood Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and darkness ridge The void, as low as where this earth Spins like a fretful midge. Around her, lovers, newly met 'Mid deathless love's acclaims, Spoke evermore among themselves Their heart-remembered names; And the souls mounting up to God Went by her like thin flames. And still she bowed herself and stooped Until her bosom must have made Along her bended arm. From the fixed place of Heaven she saw Time like a pulse shake fierce 12 18 24 30 36 42 48 Through all the world. Her gaze still strove Its path; and now she spoke as when The sun was gone now; the curled moon Was like a little feather 54 on earth, THE BLESSED DAMOZEL Fluttering far down the gulf; and now (Ah sweet! Even now, in that bird's song, Strove not her accents there, Fain to be hearkened? When those bells Strove not her steps to reach my side "I wish that he were come to me, "Have I not prayed in Heaven? Lord, Lord, has he not pray'd? Are not two prayers a perfect strength "When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, 60 66 Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys. "Circlewise sit they, with bound locks And foreheads garlanded; Into the fine cloth white like flame To fashion the birth-robes for them "He shall fear, haply, and be dumb:" Then will I lay my cheek To his, and tell about our love, My pride, and let me speak. "Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, To Him round whom all souls 525 108 114 120 72 Kneel, the clear-ranged unnumbered heads Bowed with their aureoles: This room of yours, my Jenny, looks The hours they thieve from day and night You seem too tired to get to bed. It was a careless life I led 20 30 For sometimes, were the truth confess'd, You're thankful for a little rest, Glad from the crush to rest within, From the heart-sickness and the din Where envy's voice at virtue's pitch Mocks you because your gown is rich; And from the pale girl's dumb rebuke, Whose ill-clad grace and toil-worn look Proclaim the strength that keeps her weak, And other nights than yours bespeak; And from the wise unchildish elf, To schoolmate lesser than himself, Pointing you out, what thing you are: Yes, from the daily jeer and jar, From shame and shame's outbraving too, Is rest not sometimes sweet to you? But most from the hatefulness of man Who spares not to end what he began, Whose acts are ill and his speech ill, Who, having used you at his will, Thrusts you aside, as when I dine I serve the dishes and the wine. 40 Lest shame of yours suffice for two. 70 80 90 The many aims or the few years? Because to-night it all appears Something I do not know again. The cloud's not danced out of my brain, But while my thought runs on like this What, still so tired? Well, well then, keep Behold the lilies of the field, They toil not neither do they spin; (So doth the ancient text begin, Not of such rest as one of these Can share.) Another rest and ease Along each summer-sated path From its new lord the garden hath, Than that whose spring in blessings ran Which praised the bounteous husbandman, Ere yet, in days of hankering breath, The lilies sickened unto death. What, Jenny, are your lilies dead? Aye, and the snow-white leaves are spread 100 110 |