 | Leaves of life |  |
41
BEWITCHED.
Attracted, repelled, and heart-sickened
By rhythmic delight and disdain,
Succeeding each other like wave-beats
On the storm-broken shore of my brain—
I hate you until we are parted,
And ache till I meet you again!
By rhythmic delight and disdain,
Succeeding each other like wave-beats
On the storm-broken shore of my brain—
I hate you until we are parted,
And ache till I meet you again!
I would give up my hopes, ah! how gladly,
If I could take yours, you my part—
I would give up my soul for your loving,
I would give up my life for your heart;
Drop by drop I would drain all my blood out,
If each drop fell on you as a smart.
If I could take yours, you my part—
I would give up my soul for your loving,
I would give up my life for your heart;
Drop by drop I would drain all my blood out,
If each drop fell on you as a smart.
I desire you, despise you, deny you,
Am false to myself and to you,
I am false to the gods that I worship,
And could I, I would not be true.
To help you, or hurt you, or hold you,
There is nothing your fool would not do!
Am false to myself and to you,
42
And could I, I would not be true.
To help you, or hurt you, or hold you,
There is nothing your fool would not do!
For the depths of the night and the silence,
Are alive with your dark malign face:
Your voice drowns all solitude's voices,
And your eyes—oh, your eyes!—are all space;
And yourself is the heaven of my dreaming—
And the hell of my waking—disgrace.
Are alive with your dark malign face:
Your voice drowns all solitude's voices,
And your eyes—oh, your eyes!—are all space;
And yourself is the heaven of my dreaming—
And the hell of my waking—disgrace.
You are Fate, you are love, you are longing,
You are music, and roses, and wine,
You are devil, and man, and my lover,
You are hatefully mine and not mine.
You are all that's infernal in loving,
And all that in hate is divine.
You are music, and roses, and wine,
You are devil, and man, and my lover,
You are hatefully mine and not mine.
You are all that's infernal in loving,
And all that in hate is divine.
If raising a hand would efface you,
Ah! trust me, a hand should be raised!
Ah! had I the tongue that could sting you,
Who too long and too well have been praised!
Could I kindle the fire in your being,
That on my life's ruin has blazed!
Ah! trust me, a hand should be raised!
Ah! had I the tongue that could sting you,
Who too long and too well have been praised!
Could I kindle the fire in your being,
That on my life's ruin has blazed!
43
I hate you, but hate you too little,
You love me, but love not enough,
And your love, which I never shall quicken
To a madness like mine, is pale stuff
For a star, yet you see how it leads me,
Where the way is unlovely and rough.
You love me, but love not enough,
And your love, which I never shall quicken
To a madness like mine, is pale stuff
For a star, yet you see how it leads me,
Where the way is unlovely and rough.
And all would be nothing to suffer,
If once at my feet you could lie,
And offer your soul for my loving—
Could I know that your world was just I—
And could laugh in your eyes and refuse you,
And love you and hate you and die!
If once at my feet you could lie,
And offer your soul for my loving—
Could I know that your world was just I—
And could laugh in your eyes and refuse you,
And love you and hate you and die!
| Leaves of life | |