 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE OLD AND THE NEW MAGDALEN.
1.—THE OLD MAGDALEN.
Mute in large and mournful niches,
Stare her globes of glittering eyes;
Low her locks' redundant riches,
Trail in penitential guise.
Stare her globes of glittering eyes;
Low her locks' redundant riches,
Trail in penitential guise.
Scars her brow the brand of sorrow,
Feed her breast the fires of pain;
Sees she night beyond the morrow,
On the stars a cursèd stain.
Feed her breast the fires of pain;
Sees she night beyond the morrow,
On the stars a cursèd stain.
Drinking deep of troubled fountains,
Following fast the lying wraiths;
Stumbling on the darksome mountains,
O'er the rocks of barren faiths.
Following fast the lying wraiths;
Stumbling on the darksome mountains,
O'er the rocks of barren faiths.
Dreading but a bastard sentence,
Forged of dead and dying facts;
Dreaming not the sole repentance,
Lies in fair and loving acts.
Forged of dead and dying facts;
Dreaming not the sole repentance,
Lies in fair and loving acts.
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Fraud and falsehood bend and blind her,
With decaying rubrics' reek;
Fear before and shame behind her,
Baulk the solace woe would seek.
With decaying rubrics' reek;
Fear before and shame behind her,
Baulk the solace woe would seek.
Pale with hope that springs from terror,
Blighted at its very birth;
Nourished on a lofty error,
Strangling every strain of mirth.
Blighted at its very birth;
Nourished on a lofty error,
Strangling every strain of mirth.
Torture warps her withered duties,
With its hundred links of loss;
And her blossom's tender beauties,
Droop beneath the bitter cross.
With its hundred links of loss;
And her blossom's tender beauties,
Droop beneath the bitter cross.
Yet she serves the limping letter,
Yet she hugs the prisoner's part;
And her faith is but a fetter,
Eating, eating in the heart.
Yet she hugs the prisoner's part;
And her faith is but a fetter,
Eating, eating in the heart.
Chains of custom, loads of fiction,
On her weary shoulders fret;
And her service is affliction,
And her worship is regret.
On her weary shoulders fret;
And her service is affliction,
And her worship is regret.
Slave of systems, duped by shackles,
That the spirit cannot bind;
Scared when Convocation cackles,
O'er its eggs of addled mind.
That the spirit cannot bind;
Scared when Convocation cackles,
O'er its eggs of addled mind.
Wringing by her pangs acquittance,
From the doubts that never cease;
Crowned at last with grudged admittance,
To the rest that is not peace.
From the doubts that never cease;
Crowned at last with grudged admittance,
To the rest that is not peace.
Yet serene with grand assurance,
Kindling inward solemn rays;
While most crushed in gray endurance,
By the faith that saves and slays.
Kindling inward solemn rays;
While most crushed in gray endurance,
By the faith that saves and slays.
2.—THE NEW MAGDALEN.
Bright between the dusk and dawning,
Sweet with joys that utterance seek;
Fair while fervent shadows fawning,
Paint their changes on her cheek.
Sweet with joys that utterance seek;
Fair while fervent shadows fawning,
Paint their changes on her cheek.
Purified by widows' blessings,
Cleansed with orphans' holy tears;
Reaping ever rich caressings,
From the sad and suffering years.
Cleansed with orphans' holy tears;
Reaping ever rich caressings,
From the sad and suffering years.
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Bursting from the blasted shelter,
Of old fossil forms and shades;
Where the fruits of wisdom welter,
Where the flower of fancy fades.
Of old fossil forms and shades;
Where the fruits of wisdom welter,
Where the flower of fancy fades.
Breaking from the surface frozen,
Rank with doctrines doomed to rot—
Dim with laws that cramp and cozen,
Woman's lean and sterile lot.
Rank with doctrines doomed to rot—
Dim with laws that cramp and cozen,
Woman's lean and sterile lot.
Though the stunted stony present,
Yet with feudal rags be girt;
Heaping harvests pure and pleasant,
In the darkness and the dirt.
Yet with feudal rags be girt;
Heaping harvests pure and pleasant,
In the darkness and the dirt.
Lo, the desert red with roses,
Trembling heavenward at her tread;
While her hand like dew disposes,
Ministries that move the dead.
Trembling heavenward at her tread;
While her hand like dew disposes,
Ministries that move the dead.
Thorns and thistles are her pillow,
Softened by the touch of tears;
And the passion of the billow,
Is the music that she hears.
Softened by the touch of tears;
And the passion of the billow,
Is the music that she hears.
Grim conventions sink before her,
Lust puts off its dazzling dress;
Eyes that would deny adore her,
Lips that cursed are turned to bless.
Lust puts off its dazzling dress;
Eyes that would deny adore her,
Lips that cursed are turned to bless.
Bowed with bondage, prest by burdens,
That are liberty and love;
Gleaning in the dust the guerdons,
Foretaste of the bliss above.
That are liberty and love;
Gleaning in the dust the guerdons,
Foretaste of the bliss above.
Glorified by falls, that frighten
Doubt from paths each failure paves;
Wresting hopes that labour lighten,
From the grip of iron graves.
Doubt from paths each failure paves;
Wresting hopes that labour lighten,
From the grip of iron graves.
Trampling under starved transitions,
Fetters that can bind but fools;
All the bare and bleak traditions,
Of a thousand perjured schools.
Fetters that can bind but fools;
All the bare and bleak traditions,
Of a thousand perjured schools.
Bones of dogmas damned despising,
Fleeting cries of phantom creeds;
Still rejoicing, still arising,
In the light of larger deeds.
Fleeting cries of phantom creeds;
Still rejoicing, still arising,
In the light of larger deeds.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |