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3. A VOICE IN HEAVEN SINGS.

Lo, now, in the motionless stone

Life and Death are united for ever!

Lo, Glory encircles the stone,

The Soul gives a speech of its own

To the beauty that perishes never.

From the furthest fringe of the night,
Yearning to thee,

Drawn down to the range of thy light,
I, Psyche, the Soul, can see !

4. THE SIN.

BLUE night. I threw the lattice open wide,
Drinking the odorous air; and from my height

I saw the watch-fires of the town and heard
The gradual dying of the murmurous day.
Then, as the twilight deepen'd, on her limbs
The silver lances of the stars and moon
Were shatter'd, and the shining fragments fell
Like jewels at her feet. The Cyprian star
Quiver'd to liquid emerald where it hung

On the rib'd ledges of the darkening hills,
Gazing upon her; and, as in a dream,
Methought the marble, underneath that look,
Stirr'd like a bank of milky asphodels

Kiss'd into tumult by a wind of light.

Whereat there swam upon me utterly
A drowsy sense wherein my holy dream
Was melted, as a pearl in wine: bright-eyed,
Keen, haggard, passionate, with languid thrills
Of insolent unrest, I watch'd the stone,
And lo, I loved it: not as men love fame,
Not as the warrior loves his laurel wreath,
But with prelusion of a passionate joy
That threw me from the height whereon I stood
To grasp at Glory, and with impiousness.

Of sweet communing with some living Soul
Chamber'd in that cold bosom. As I gazed,

There was a buzz of revel in mine ears,
And tinkling fragments of a ditty of love,
Warbled by wantons over wine-cups, swam

Like bees within the brain. Then I was shamed

By her pale beauty, and I scorn'd myself,
And standing at the lattice dark and cool
Watch'd the dim winds of twilight enter in,
And draw a veil about that loveliness

White, dim, and breathed on by the common air.

But, like a snake's moist eye, the dewy star
Of lovers drew me; and I watch'd it grow
Large, soft, and tremulous; and as I gazed
In fascinated impotence of heart,

I pray'd the lifeless silence might assume
A palpable life, and soften into flesh,

And be a beautiful and human joy

To crown my love withal; and thrice the prayer
Blacken'd across my pale face with no word.
But thro' the woolly silver of a cloud
The cool star dripping emerald from the baths
Of Ocean brighten'd in upon my tower,
And touch'd the marble forehead with a gleam
Soft, green, and dewy; and I said "the prayer
Is heard!"

The live-long night, the breathless night,

I waited in a darkness, in a dream,

Watching the snowy figure faintly seen,

And ofttimes shuddering when I seem'd to see
Life, like a taper burning in a scull,

Gleam thro' the rayless eyes: yea, wearily

I hearken'd thro' the dark and seem'd to hear
The low warm billowing of a living breast,

Or the slow motion of anointed limbs
New-stirring into life; and, shuddering,

Fearing the thing I hoped for, awful eyed,
On her cold breast I placed a hand as cold

And sought a fluttering heart.—But all was still,
And chill, and breathless; and she gazed right on
With rayless orbs, nor marvell❜d at my touch:
White, silent, pure, ineffable, a shape

Rebuking human hope, a deathless thing,
Sharing the wonder of the Sun who sends
His long bright look thro' all futurity.

When Shame lay heavy on me, and I hid My face, and almost hated her, my work, Because she was so fair, so human fair,

Yea not divinely fair as that pure face

Which, when mine hour of loss and travail came,

Haunted me, out of heaven.

Then the Dawn

Stared in upon her when I open'd eyes,

And saw the gradual Dawn encrimson her

Like blood that blush'd within her,—and behold

She trembled

and I shriek'd!

With haggard eyes,

I gazed on her, my fame, my work, my love!
Red sunrise mingled with the first bright flush
Of palpable life-she trembled, stirr'd, and sigh'd—
And the dim blankness of her stony eyes
Melted to azure. Then, by slow degrees,

She tingled with the milky warmth of blood:
Her eyes were vacant of a seeing soul,

But dewily the bosom rose and fell,

The lips caught sunrise, parting, and the breath
Fainted thro' pearly teeth.

I was as one

Who gazes on a goddess serpent-eyed,

And cannot fly, and knows to look is death.

O apparition of my work and wish!

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