 | The Baroness of New York |  |
VIII.
One still, soft, summer afternoon
In middle deep of wood, the two,
Where tangled vines twined through and through,
Together sat upon the tomb
Of perished pine, that once had stood
The tall-plumed monarch of the wood.
The far-off pheasant thrummed a tune,
The faint far billows beat a rune
Like heart regrets. The sombre gloom
Was ominous. Around her head
There shone a halo. Men have said
'Twas from the dash of Titian hue
That flooded all her storm of hair
In gold and glory. But they knew,
Yea, all men know there ever grew
A halo round about her head
Like sunlight scarcely vanished.
In middle deep of wood, the two,
Where tangled vines twined through and through,
Together sat upon the tomb
Of perished pine, that once had stood
The tall-plumed monarch of the wood.
The far-off pheasant thrummed a tune,
The faint far billows beat a rune
Like heart regrets. The sombre gloom
Was ominous. Around her head
There shone a halo. Men have said
'Twas from the dash of Titian hue
That flooded all her storm of hair
In gold and glory. But they knew,
Yea, all men know there ever grew
59
Like sunlight scarcely vanished.
Her mouth had taken back its hue
Of rosy red. Her lips had more
Intense and proud expression now;
And now they bent as if they knew
To send the deadly arrow through
And pierce the centre. Now her heart
Had grown to know, to act a part.
One small foot tapped the fallen leaves,
The other, lightly to and fro
Went shooting, as the shuttle weaves
Through woof and warp. Her eyes bent down,
Her dark brow gathered in a frown,
She mused as if she would explore
The mysteries that lay before.
Of rosy red. Her lips had more
Intense and proud expression now;
And now they bent as if they knew
To send the deadly arrow through
And pierce the centre. Now her heart
Had grown to know, to act a part.
One small foot tapped the fallen leaves,
The other, lightly to and fro
Went shooting, as the shuttle weaves
Through woof and warp. Her eyes bent down,
Her dark brow gathered in a frown,
She mused as if she would explore
The mysteries that lay before.
Her thoughts were far away. She thought
Of peopled cities, shoreless seas
White sown and blown with blossomed sail.
She thought of Doughal roving these
In glory and alone. She caught
Her breath convulsively. The while
She wore a calm and careless smile—
The calm that ushers in the gale.
Of peopled cities, shoreless seas
White sown and blown with blossomed sail.
She thought of Doughal roving these
In glory and alone. She caught
Her breath convulsively. The while
60
The calm that ushers in the gale.
A calm more awful is than storm.
Beware of calms in any form.
This life means action. Ancient earth
Rests not. The agonies of birth,
The brave endeavor to express
Herself in beauty evermore,
Evermore to bloom and bless
Her many children with her store
Of luscious fruits and golden grain—
The wooing winds, the driving rain
Are well. But dead calm in the land
Means reeling earthquakes where you stand.
Beware of calms in any form.
This life means action. Ancient earth
Rests not. The agonies of birth,
The brave endeavor to express
Herself in beauty evermore,
Evermore to bloom and bless
Her many children with her store
Of luscious fruits and golden grain—
The wooing winds, the driving rain
Are well. But dead calm in the land
Means reeling earthquakes where you stand.
How still she was. She only knew
His love. She saw no life beyond.
She loved with love that only lives
Outside itself and selfishness:
A loves that glows in its excess:
A love that melts red gold, and gives
Thenceforth to all who come to woo
No coins but his face stamped thereon—
Aye, that one image stamped upon
Its face, with some dim date long gone.
His love. She saw no life beyond.
She loved with love that only lives
Outside itself and selfishness:
A loves that glows in its excess:
A love that melts red gold, and gives
Thenceforth to all who come to woo
No coins but his face stamped thereon—
61
Its face, with some dim date long gone.
She tapped her foot, half forced a smile
And did recall his splendid tale
Of promises, that all time through
They two should range the world. She knew,
Her woman's instinct taught her well,
He now had other tales to tell.
And did recall his splendid tale
Of promises, that all time through
They two should range the world. She knew,
Her woman's instinct taught her well,
He now had other tales to tell.
He, too, was far away. Yet now
His eyes fell on her troubled brow
And all her beauty. Well he knew
That he might search God's garden through
And then not find one single flower
Like this that blessed him in that hour.
His eyes fell on her troubled brow
And all her beauty. Well he knew
That he might search God's garden through
And then not find one single flower
Like this that blessed him in that hour.
And yet he wearied. She seemed dumb
And passionless. Life lay all glow
For him; for him the scroll of fame,
For him a proud, high hall, a name
That men should bend their heads to hear.
Yea, he would sail the seas, would come
Some later day, by ship draw near
And touch the land, take kiss, and so
Sail on to land of sun or snow.
And passionless. Life lay all glow
For him; for him the scroll of fame,
For him a proud, high hall, a name
That men should bend their heads to hear.
Yea, he would sail the seas, would come
Some later day, by ship draw near
62
Sail on to land of sun or snow.
She knew his thought. The day before
She heard the black ship's creaking cranks
Draw in the wood. The water tanks
Had made a muffled, hollow roar
As if their oak staves, shrunk and dried,
Felt iron piercing in the side.
She heard the black ship's creaking cranks
Draw in the wood. The water tanks
Had made a muffled, hollow roar
As if their oak staves, shrunk and dried,
Felt iron piercing in the side.
He restless rose to leave the wood.
She knew his thought. She rose and stood
Before him, tall and queenly tall.
Her hair in black abundant fall
And fringe of faint, dim flame fell down,
About her loose, ungathered gown
Like starlit night along a wood.
She knew his thought. She rose and stood
Before him, tall and queenly tall.
Her hair in black abundant fall
And fringe of faint, dim flame fell down,
About her loose, ungathered gown
Like starlit night along a wood.
“And would you leave me, Doughal? You,
Who swore by heaven to be true
To her who fed you, famishing,
And all your loud, unruly crew?
Nay, that were little. Bread is due
To all who hunger. But the thing
That rends me, Doughal, is, that you
Should add to falsehood, coward flight,
Like some dark felon in the night.”
Who swore by heaven to be true
To her who fed you, famishing,
And all your loud, unruly crew?
Nay, that were little. Bread is due
To all who hunger. But the thing
That rends me, Doughal, is, that you
63
Like some dark felon in the night.”
He sprang back, jerked his head sidewise,
And tried to front her level eyes.
Yet do his best, he ever found
His glance fall feebly to the ground.
And tried to front her level eyes.
Yet do his best, he ever found
His glance fall feebly to the ground.
“And you would leave me in disgrace?”
She scarce did whisper, and her face
Was as a woman's that had died.
“These men, my savage, simple friends,
Frown dark and angered where I come.
I stand abashed, my priest is dumb
With shame and anger. To these ends
Did I surrender love and pride.”
She scarce did whisper, and her face
Was as a woman's that had died.
“These men, my savage, simple friends,
Frown dark and angered where I come.
I stand abashed, my priest is dumb
With shame and anger. To these ends
Did I surrender love and pride.”
Her low voice trembled. Like a tree,
The tall and topmost tree, that feels
The coming storm, and rocks and reels
Ere yet the storm strikes strong and free
The under wood, her form did shake
With passion man should not mistake.
“You speak of your proud birth, your line
Of ancient lords, your storied name,
That I, you fear, might bring to shame
Before the priest and sacred shrine.
The tall and topmost tree, that feels
The coming storm, and rocks and reels
Ere yet the storm strikes strong and free
The under wood, her form did shake
With passion man should not mistake.
64
Of ancient lords, your storied name,
That I, you fear, might bring to shame
Before the priest and sacred shrine.
“Why spoke you not of this before
Your pillage? Late, quite late, too late,
You thought, my Doughal, of such fate;
You speak of poverty, of mine.
My poverty! Ah! it is true
That I am poor. Yet not so poor
But you came begging to my door;
A strange, half-naked, hunted thing,
And when you gathered strength once more
Why you turned robber, thief, and you
Did find it pleasant plundering!”
Your pillage? Late, quite late, too late,
You thought, my Doughal, of such fate;
You speak of poverty, of mine.
My poverty! Ah! it is true
That I am poor. Yet not so poor
But you came begging to my door;
A strange, half-naked, hunted thing,
And when you gathered strength once more
Why you turned robber, thief, and you
Did find it pleasant plundering!”
He started, stung to anger. He
Knew not the dark enormity
Of his long purposed deed till now.
He raised his broad hand to his brow.
Knew not the dark enormity
Of his long purposed deed till now.
He raised his broad hand to his brow.
His was the common code of men
To pillage, plunder hearts, and then,
Thief like, depart before the dawn,
And leave behind a haunted hall
With broken statues on the floor—
With household idols scattered o'er,
And only shadows on the wall,
That never, never are withdrawn.
He stood abashed, held down his head,
Half turned, as if he would have fled.
To pillage, plunder hearts, and then,
Thief like, depart before the dawn,
65
With broken statues on the floor—
With household idols scattered o'er,
And only shadows on the wall,
That never, never are withdrawn.
He stood abashed, held down his head,
Half turned, as if he would have fled.
“I know not who you are. I see
Now at the last you know not me.
Do you suppose—come, lift your face,
Act not the felon in disgrace!
But if a villain you must be,
Why, be a brave one, and the curse
Is half o'ercome—do you suppose
That ship shall ever cross the sea?
Or ever touch on other shore?
No chief shall keep that deck. Nay, more,
Than this, my man. Your many foes
That were your friends but yesterday
Have sworn that ship shall rot away
Beneath these same bent, burning skies
Against the black beach where she lies.”
Now at the last you know not me.
Do you suppose—come, lift your face,
Act not the felon in disgrace!
But if a villain you must be,
Why, be a brave one, and the curse
Is half o'ercome—do you suppose
That ship shall ever cross the sea?
Or ever touch on other shore?
No chief shall keep that deck. Nay, more,
Than this, my man. Your many foes
That were your friends but yesterday
Have sworn that ship shall rot away
Beneath these same bent, burning skies
Against the black beach where she lies.”
He trembled. Then he bowed at last
As bends a strong tree to the blast,
A touch of fear, a tinge of shame,
Swept o'er his face. “The priest,” he said,
As rising with half-lifted head,
“Shall give to you another name.
As bends a strong tree to the blast,
66
Swept o'er his face. “The priest,” he said,
As rising with half-lifted head,
“Shall give to you another name.
“And then, why if you choose to chance
Uncertain fate where men advance
On peril's front, to face a foe,
Or toss, a very fortune's ball,
Why, then, since you will have it so
Come, call your priest and we will go.”
Uncertain fate where men advance
On peril's front, to face a foe,
Or toss, a very fortune's ball,
Why, then, since you will have it so
Come, call your priest and we will go.”
He paused, he held his head quite low,
And thought a time deep down, as one
In game of chess that is outdone.
Then lifting up he gaily said,
His hot cheek mounting high with red,
“Yea, we will go, though death befall,
Come fame or shame, fall friend or foe;
Go man and wife; for, after all,
Perhaps my duty bids it so.”
And thought a time deep down, as one
In game of chess that is outdone.
Then lifting up he gaily said,
His hot cheek mounting high with red,
“Yea, we will go, though death befall,
Come fame or shame, fall friend or foe;
Go man and wife; for, after all,
Perhaps my duty bids it so.”
She did not answer him. The blood
Sank from her face like sinking flood
That only leaves the clodden clay,—
She could not stir, she would not say.
Sank from her face like sinking flood
67
She could not stir, she would not say.
The priest came forth as if he came
From 'twixt twin monarchs of the wood
That like cathedral columns stood.
And Doughal started. Was he there
To keep his fair maid from despair?
To keep her white, sweet soul from shame?
Had this same priest forever stood
And ever watched him, in this wood?
From 'twixt twin monarchs of the wood
That like cathedral columns stood.
And Doughal started. Was he there
To keep his fair maid from despair?
To keep her white, sweet soul from shame?
Had this same priest forever stood
And ever watched him, in this wood?
The silent priest placed hand in hand,
Upheld his cross against the sun,
As in most solemn service done
In any clime or Christian land;
Then, falling on his knees, he prayed
Before the pure and pallid maid,
As to Madonna. Doughal fell
Upon his knees, and all was well.
Upheld his cross against the sun,
As in most solemn service done
In any clime or Christian land;
Then, falling on his knees, he prayed
Before the pure and pallid maid,
As to Madonna. Doughal fell
Upon his knees, and all was well.
High overhead the surging pine
Swung conser-cones, as at a shrine.
Below, the breathing ocean beat
Like mighty organ at their feet.
Adora kneeled as in a dream;
She could not speak nor understand;
She scarcely knew to give her hand,
But was as one borne down a stream
That helpless reaches to the land.
Swung conser-cones, as at a shrine.
Below, the breathing ocean beat
Like mighty organ at their feet.
68
She could not speak nor understand;
She scarcely knew to give her hand,
But was as one borne down a stream
That helpless reaches to the land.
The good priest rose, outspread his hand;
He said his prayer, and so passed on
Like some still shadow slow withdrawn,
And, in the custom of the land,
The two were wed and made as one.
He said his prayer, and so passed on
Like some still shadow slow withdrawn,
And, in the custom of the land,
The two were wed and made as one.
Then Doughal rose, took in his breath
As one that just had fronted death
He rallied with an effort now
And dashed a hand across his brow.
As one that just had fronted death
He rallied with an effort now
And dashed a hand across his brow.
He careless turned, put forth his hand,
Half stooped as if to heedless kiss
The lips the priest had now made his—
Those lips, the proudest in the land
Had died to touch in that brave time
When valor had a name sublime,—
When Spain's proud banners blew along
The rock-built hills of Jebus, and
A woman's name and woman's fame
Was chorus to the soldier's song.
Half stooped as if to heedless kiss
The lips the priest had now made his—
Those lips, the proudest in the land
Had died to touch in that brave time
When valor had a name sublime,—
When Spain's proud banners blew along
69
A woman's name and woman's fame
Was chorus to the soldier's song.
She started back. She dashed his hand
Aside, as if a serpent's head
Had thrust at her to strike her dead,
And stood, as high built statues stand.
Aside, as if a serpent's head
Had thrust at her to strike her dead,
And stood, as high built statues stand.
Her hair shook back, her splendid hair
Rolled back from round her lifted face,
Her round, right arm was in the air,
Like Justice rising to her place.
Rolled back from round her lifted face,
Her round, right arm was in the air,
Like Justice rising to her place.
“Your duty, Doughal, bids it so!
Your duty bade you wed me! Go!
If God will let you. Go, and say,
When gathered with your comrades gay,
That you once had a royal day,
When resting, hungered and outworn,
Upon a far-off land forlorn,
And laugh at me. Go, safely. I
Shall not detain you. Kneel and lie
To other maidens if you may,
And swear to studied lies! Go now!
Take back your freedom and your vow.”
Your duty bade you wed me! Go!
If God will let you. Go, and say,
When gathered with your comrades gay,
That you once had a royal day,
When resting, hungered and outworn,
Upon a far-off land forlorn,
And laugh at me. Go, safely. I
Shall not detain you. Kneel and lie
To other maidens if you may,
70
Take back your freedom and your vow.”
She towered up. She seemed to grow,
To grasp the grandeur of the trees,
To catch the fervor and the glow
Of flushing sunset on the seas.
To grasp the grandeur of the trees,
To catch the fervor and the glow
Of flushing sunset on the seas.
“And take my curse! Why, I would kill,
Would clutch and kill you where you stand,
Would strangle you with this right hand,
And hide you underneath the hill
In hollows of the wood, and I
Would come alone, in twilight dim,
To see your corse torn limb from limb
By wild beasts fattening their fill,
Were you but worthy so to die.
Would clutch and kill you where you stand,
Would strangle you with this right hand,
And hide you underneath the hill
In hollows of the wood, and I
Would come alone, in twilight dim,
To see your corse torn limb from limb
By wild beasts fattening their fill,
Were you but worthy so to die.
“Nay! Nay! Start not, lest you do die!
The hunter looks the lioness
Hard face to face, eye set to eye,
And flinches not a hair. Nor less
Than that fierce forest-beast am I,
I, I the forest maid whom you
Would rob of all she hath, and fly
To plunder other souls while yet
Your very hands with blood are wet,
And lips with nests of lies are blue.
The hunter looks the lioness
Hard face to face, eye set to eye,
And flinches not a hair. Nor less
Than that fierce forest-beast am I,
I, I the forest maid whom you
Would rob of all she hath, and fly
71
Your very hands with blood are wet,
And lips with nests of lies are blue.
“What gifts God gave you! Think of it!
A form well-fashioned, strong and tall.
A face all manliness, and all
A woman loves. Then words, and wit,
And knowledge of the world. Yet these
You prostitute and sell to please
The basest part of you, and bring
Disgrace, dishonor, darkness, shame,—
Destruction on the dearest thing,
Beside your mother, you might name.
A form well-fashioned, strong and tall.
A face all manliness, and all
A woman loves. Then words, and wit,
And knowledge of the world. Yet these
You prostitute and sell to please
The basest part of you, and bring
Disgrace, dishonor, darkness, shame,—
Destruction on the dearest thing,
Beside your mother, you might name.
“And then to lie! Why, had you not
Enough with all your gifts to win
The wood-born girl? Have I forgot
The thousand falsehoods you let in
The open flood-gates of my soul,
Swung wide to welcome you, and all
Your cursed plans, plotting to my fall?
Enough with all your gifts to win
The wood-born girl? Have I forgot
The thousand falsehoods you let in
The open flood-gates of my soul,
Swung wide to welcome you, and all
Your cursed plans, plotting to my fall?
“Who talked of duty, Doughal, then?
Who talked of duty, Doughal, when
I walked these woods with love-filled soul,
When all life filled to flowing tide
As when the great, third billows roll?
When you walked, wooing at my side,
And named my forest's paradise?
Who talked of duty, Doughal, say,
All that half-year, that seemed a day?
Who talked of duty, Doughal, when
72
When all life filled to flowing tide
As when the great, third billows roll?
When you walked, wooing at my side,
And named my forest's paradise?
Who talked of duty, Doughal, say,
All that half-year, that seemed a day?
“How my heart swelled, and thrilled and beat
That day I rested at your feet
And bade you tell your battles o'er!
God! I could see the moving men!
Could hear the clash, the battle's roar—
And when you talked of honor! when
You said 'twas all for others! said
You freely staked for your fair land,
Your life, your fortune, freedom, and
Your love, and so lost all but life,
I longed to be your soldier wife.
That day I rested at your feet
And bade you tell your battles o'er!
God! I could see the moving men!
Could hear the clash, the battle's roar—
And when you talked of honor! when
You said 'twas all for others! said
You freely staked for your fair land,
Your life, your fortune, freedom, and
Your love, and so lost all but life,
I longed to be your soldier wife.
“How I sprang up and clasped your hand
In my two hands! I kissed your brow,
Your sword-scarred brow, your brave sword-hand—
To die for others! That were grand
Beyond all else. Aye, even now
I feel the same proud pulse as then—
How I did love you! Why, I said,
Poor fool, I know right well that he
Would bravely die the same for me,
For he a thousand times has told
He loves me more than lands or gold.
In my two hands! I kissed your brow,
Your sword-scarred brow, your brave sword-hand—
To die for others! That were grand
Beyond all else. Aye, even now
73
How I did love you! Why, I said,
Poor fool, I know right well that he
Would bravely die the same for me,
For he a thousand times has told
He loves me more than lands or gold.
“Stand back! Stop fast your lips, lest lies
Creep out like drone bees from a hive.
For they are breeding lies; they thrive
As on corruption.
Honor dies,
Then lies breed in his corpse, as breed
White worms, that on corruption feed.
Creep out like drone bees from a hive.
For they are breeding lies; they thrive
As on corruption.
Honor dies,
Then lies breed in his corpse, as breed
White worms, that on corruption feed.
“Forgive? Forgive! Do you not know
What mixed and counter-currents flow
In my hot veins? The blood of Spain
And, too, a tinge of red man's blood!
And list! You hear that throbbing main?
It is my mother's voice, for lo!
Here was I born, here fearless grown,
And all her anger is mine own.
The majesty of mighty wood,
The fury of the winter flood.
Behold! their grandeur and their truth
Grown in me all my tranquil youth.
What mixed and counter-currents flow
In my hot veins? The blood of Spain
And, too, a tinge of red man's blood!
And list! You hear that throbbing main?
It is my mother's voice, for lo!
Here was I born, here fearless grown,
And all her anger is mine own.
The majesty of mighty wood,
74
Behold! their grandeur and their truth
Grown in me all my tranquil youth.
“My youth! My youth! 'Tis far away,
And yet was I this very day,
This very season, but a child.
Why, Doughal, I this hour have grown
To tall and perfect womanhood.
This hour I have crossed the zone
That separates the girl and she
Who sits in matron council. I
Am old and thoughtful now. I stood
But this one hour since, half-wild,
Half-rent and torn with agony,
And praying God to let me die.
And yet was I this very day,
This very season, but a child.
Why, Doughal, I this hour have grown
To tall and perfect womanhood.
This hour I have crossed the zone
That separates the girl and she
Who sits in matron council. I
Am old and thoughtful now. I stood
But this one hour since, half-wild,
Half-rent and torn with agony,
And praying God to let me die.
“But I am calm now. Quick, then! Go!
Go quickly! while I keep me so.
Go now, while I affect the child:
Begone, lest I grow strong and wild
Beyond endurance, and that blood,
That surging, rising, red man's blood,
Breaks forth like some fierce, pent-up flood.
Go quickly! while I keep me so.
Go now, while I affect the child:
Begone, lest I grow strong and wild
Beyond endurance, and that blood,
That surging, rising, red man's blood,
Breaks forth like some fierce, pent-up flood.
75
“Go, go, and go with curses hot
To hound you to the utmost spot
Of land or sea your ship shall touch.
Aye, we did talk of journeys. Much
You talked in pretty lies, of lands
Where summer sat eternally
By green-girt shore, on golden sands,
To sing in sea-shells of the sea—
Of anchorage against that shore,
And peace and love forevermore.
To hound you to the utmost spot
Of land or sea your ship shall touch.
Aye, we did talk of journeys. Much
You talked in pretty lies, of lands
Where summer sat eternally
By green-girt shore, on golden sands,
To sing in sea-shells of the sea—
Of anchorage against that shore,
And peace and love forevermore.
“To think of far-off lands! Of towns
That stretch away like woodless downs.
O, how I panted when my priest
Described great cities populous
And proud with consequence. The least
Were great to me. I could not guess
That one should come to me from thence,
With lies for his inheritance.
Yet I shall see those cities, aye,
Possess, before 'tis time to die.”
That stretch away like woodless downs.
O, how I panted when my priest
Described great cities populous
And proud with consequence. The least
Were great to me. I could not guess
That one should come to me from thence,
With lies for his inheritance.
Yet I shall see those cities, aye,
Possess, before 'tis time to die.”
Her voice fell low. Her great, proud lips
Curled full and passionless. She stood
All pallid to her finger-tips
And trembled like an aspen wood.
Curled full and passionless. She stood
76
And trembled like an aspen wood.
He now fell down upon his knees.
He loved her now. His cruel heart
Had been pierced deeper than she knew.
He lifted up his face. He threw
His two hands wildly to the trees.
He prayed and plead she would depart
At once, go forth upon the seas
And sail with him for aye, and be
His white dove of the deluged sea.
He loved her now. His cruel heart
Had been pierced deeper than she knew.
He lifted up his face. He threw
His two hands wildly to the trees.
He prayed and plead she would depart
At once, go forth upon the seas
And sail with him for aye, and be
His white dove of the deluged sea.
“Adora, come. I swear to you,
I love you, love you, ardent, true;
I love you as the fervid sun
Loves earth. I am undone, undone,
With this dark curse upon my head,
And fall before you as one dead.”
I love you, love you, ardent, true;
I love you as the fervid sun
Loves earth. I am undone, undone,
With this dark curse upon my head,
And fall before you as one dead.”
She stood as obdurate as Fate.
She did disdain to turn her head,
Lest she might heed the love he said,
And let her love outrun her hate.
“I hate him with a searching hate
That shall pursue him to the gate
Of outer darkness! ... I do hate
This man ... and yet I love him still,
Despite my hate, despite my will.”
She did disdain to turn her head,
Lest she might heed the love he said,
And let her love outrun her hate.
77
That shall pursue him to the gate
Of outer darkness! ... I do hate
This man ... and yet I love him still,
Despite my hate, despite my will.”
Her face rose like a rising morn,
That great curled lip of hers was scorn
Enough to shame a court of kings.
As some poor child at night outworn,
Puts wearied by its worn playthings,
So she, with an impatient sigh,
Still scorning, reached and put him by.
That great curled lip of hers was scorn
Enough to shame a court of kings.
As some poor child at night outworn,
Puts wearied by its worn playthings,
So she, with an impatient sigh,
Still scorning, reached and put him by.
Then as he passed, she turned and said
Half hissed, with reaching, shaking head,
“I hate you, I abhor you so!
I hate as only woman can.
I hate your sex, your shape, and O,
I almost hate my God to know
His sex and form is that of man.”
Half hissed, with reaching, shaking head,
“I hate you, I abhor you so!
I hate as only woman can.
I hate your sex, your shape, and O,
I almost hate my God to know
His sex and form is that of man.”
At last she rose, all tears, but he
Had gone. He sought his ship, his men,
And as he hastened through the wood,
It seemed that every rock and tree
Or clump of undergrowth had been
The shelter for some savage beast,
That through the twilight roamed or stood.
The hairy beast or hairy priest,
Or many hairy beasts, he knew
Not truly whence or what they were,
Or why they roamed the forest through,
Thick clad in shaggy coats of hair.
Had gone. He sought his ship, his men,
78
It seemed that every rock and tree
Or clump of undergrowth had been
The shelter for some savage beast,
That through the twilight roamed or stood.
The hairy beast or hairy priest,
Or many hairy beasts, he knew
Not truly whence or what they were,
Or why they roamed the forest through,
Thick clad in shaggy coats of hair.
| The Baroness of New York | |