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252

Flung her soul away—as Annie now will fling away her soul,
For I see the horror coming, past a man's or God's control;
Clearly I feel the horror coming—in her beauty and her pride
She will pass into the darkness, like her mother, my lost bride.
Surely soon her fate will seize her, for last week I saw her play
With a diamond on her finger—when I tore the ring away
Such a fierceness flashed upon me from her eyes that it was plain
Here was just the mother's nature, reproduced on earth again.
Reproduced—for good or evil? Could I doubt which when she said,
“I would sell my soul for diamonds”—(how I thought of some one dead!
How a desolate room in London flashed upon my sight once more!
How I seemed to see men carry a black coffin from the door!)

253

Lovely is she, very lovely, and the donor of the ring
Doubtless covets her young beauty, full of sweetness as of spring:
Doubtless, eager to possess her, he who gave the child the toy
Will proceed—in man's sure manner—first to flatter, then destroy.
All the horror will return then. Must I live to see her sink
Down hell's fiery seething centre, after gathering on the brink
Tender blossoms many-scented, flowers she finds exceeding fair?
Must the old mad pain redouble and the speechless old despair?
Doubtless all her heart is changing—as her mother's changed before;
Now she hears no simple music in the waves' beat on the shore:
Now her longing when she watches the moon soar across the sky
Is the longing to escape us, and to revel in liberty!
Doubtless she too dreams of passion, when we think she dreams of prayer:
When her form is in the chapel, her swift spirit is not there;

254

It is far away with some one—who can hold her or retain?
God can chain the winged wild ocean, but a girl he cannot chain.
Neither man nor God can chain her, nor can strong life hold her fast:
Only death can ever hold her, when life's efforts all are past.
When life fails and when the Lord fails, man and death may sometimes win;
When the sun fails, then the darkness puts an end to love and sin.
The eternal darkness closes, and the woman no more sees
Silvery moonlight on the waters, golden sunlight on the trees:
The eternal darkness saves her, whom nor God nor man could save.
Was she wanton on the green earth? She is chaste within the grave.