THE LETTERS-THE VISION OF SIN. 135 THE LETTERS. I. STILL on the tower stood the vane, A black yew gloom'd the stagnant air, I peer'd athwart the chancel pane And saw the altar cold and bare. A clog of lead was round my feet, A band of pain across my brow; 'Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall meet Before you hear my marriage vow.' II. I turn'd and humm'd a bitter song That mock'd the wholesome human heart, And then we met in wrath and wrong, We met, but only meant to part. Full cold my greeting was and dry ; I saw with half-unconscious eye She wore the colours I approved. III. She took the little ivory chest, With half a sigh she turn'd the key, Then raised her head with lips comprest, And gave my letters back to me. And gave the trinkets and the rings, My gifts, when gifts of mine could please; As looks a father on the things Of his dead son, I look'd on these. IV. She told me all her friends had said; But in my words were seeds of fire. 'Thro' slander, meanest spawn of Hell— And women's slander is the worst, And you, whom once I lov'd so well, I spoke with heart, and heat and force, We parted: sweetly gleam'd the stars, As homeward by the church I drew. The very graves appear'd to smile, So fresh they rose in shadow'd swells; 'Dark porch,' I said, and silent aisle, There comes a sound of marriage bells.' THE VISION OF SIN. I. I HAD a vision when the night was late : A youth came riding toward a palace-gate. He rode a horse with wings, that would have flown, But that his heavy rider kept him down. And from the palace came a child of sin, And took him by the curls, and led him in, Where sat a company with heated eyes, Expecting when a fountain should arise: A sleepy light upon their brows and lipsAs when the sun, a crescent of eclipse, Dreams over lake and lawn, and isles and capes Suffused them, sitting, lying, languid shapes, By heaps of gourds, and skins of wine, and piles of grapes. II. Then methought I heard a mellow sound, Gathering up from all the lower ground; Narrowing in to where they sat assembled Low voluptuous music winding trembled, Wov'n in circles: they that heard it sigh'd, Panted hand in hand with faces pale, Swung themselves, and in low tones replied; Till the fountain spouted, showering wide Sleet of diamond-drift and pearly hail ; Then the music touch'd the gates and died; Rose again from where it seem'd to fail, Storm'd in orbs of song, a growing gale; Till thronging in and in, to where they waited, As 'twere a hundred-throated nightingale, The strong tempestuous treble throbb'd and palpitated; Ran into its giddiest whirl of sound, Hair, and eyes, and limbs, and faces, Twisted hard in fierce embraces, Till, kill'd with some luxurious agony, The nerve-dissolving melody III. And then I look'd up toward a mountain tract, That girt the region with high cliff and lawn : I saw that every morning, far withdrawn Beyond the darkness and the cataract, God made himself an awful rose of dawn, Unheeded and detaching, fold by fold, From those still heights, and, slowly drawing near, A vapour heavy, hueless, formless, cold, Came floating on for many a month and year, Unheeded and I thought I would have spoken, And warn'd that madman ere it grew too late: But, as in dreams, I could not. Mine was broken, When that cold vapour touch'd the palace gate, And link'd again. I saw within my head A grey and gap-tooth'd man as lean as death, Who slowly rode across a wither'd heath, And lighted at a ruin'd inn, and said: IV. 'Wrinkled ostler, grim and thin! Here is custom come your way; Take my brute, and lead him in, Stuff his ribs with mouldy hay. Bitter barmaid, waning fast! See that sheets are on my bed; What! the flower of life is past : It is long before you wed. Slip-shod waiter, lank and sour, At the Dragon on the heath! Let us have a quiet hour, Let us hob-and-nob with Death. 'I am old, but let me drink; Bring me spices, bring me wine; I remember, when I think, That my youth was half divine. 'Wine is good for shrivell'd lips, When a blanket wraps the day, When the rotten woodland drips, And the leaf is stamp'd in clay. 'Sit thee down, and have no shame, Cheek by jowl, and knee by knee : What care I for any name? What for order or degree? |