 | The works of Francis Thompson |  |
89
EPILOGUE
If I have studied here in part
A tale as old as maiden's heart,
'Tis that I do see herein
Shadow of more piteous sin.
A tale as old as maiden's heart,
'Tis that I do see herein
Shadow of more piteous sin.
She, that but giving part, not whole,
Took even the part back, is the Soul:
And that so disdainèd Lover—
Best unthought, since Love is over.
Took even the part back, is the Soul:
And that so disdainèd Lover—
Best unthought, since Love is over.
To give the pledge, and yet be pined
That a pledge should have force to bind,
This, O Soul, too often still
Is the recreance of thy will!
That a pledge should have force to bind,
This, O Soul, too often still
Is the recreance of thy will!
Out of Love's arms to make fond chain,
And, because struggle bringeth pain,
Hate Love for Love's sweet constraint,
Is the way of Souls that faint.
And, because struggle bringeth pain,
Hate Love for Love's sweet constraint,
Is the way of Souls that faint.
Such a Soul, for saddest end,
Finds Love the foe in Love the friend;
And—ah, grief incredible!—
Treads the way of Heaven, to Hell.
Finds Love the foe in Love the friend;
And—ah, grief incredible!—
Treads the way of Heaven, to Hell.
| The works of Francis Thompson | |