The Serpent Play :: :: University of Virginia Library

—The Chamber of Volupsa.
Volupsa, alone.

Cœlis, in the true mirror of her eyes
Sees but the nimbus-cloud that on him lies.
There with no steady look can he survey
The love she suffers: her perturbèd mind
Can have no peace, no shelter find,
And never more to him its wealth display.
She in the storm of love is overtaken;
An ever-trembling aspen, tempest-shaken!
He loves her, but he deems her mortal still,
Or would she take no heed of pain,
But rise, upborne on his aspiring will
That cannot of itself all love attain.
How, calm-eyed, could she with her smiles reveal
To him the prospect of an endless weal?
How could she, when his lips so tremble,
Feign that her heart was light and gay;
Her inmost sympathy dissemble;
In merry tones shut out his soul's dismay?
The cloud that is upon his face
Falls o'er her eyes: can she his pains control?
O could one look of joy his dreams displace,
Then might he pierce the vista of her soul!
Yet comes a moment that allays
Her pangs, she sings to God, and singing to Him, prays.

‘The heavenly choirs to Thee belong,
Thou hearkenest to their holy song
Whose melody is Thine.
Then listen to a maiden's prayer;
The throbbings of her anguish bear,
That beat against Thy shrine.

‘Though far he wander from my heart,
Let not his love from me depart;
For Thou art distant too,
And fetchest me when I would pray,
And teachest me what words to say,
With contrite heart and true.

‘When all is told beyond the sky,
Then can he not the love deny
That from his bosom springs,
As doth Thy holy bird, the Dove,
When it the message of Thy love
To my lone sorrow brings.’