 | Fand and Other Poems |  |
Silent, in uttermost grief, I gazed on him.
Amazed stood also Fand: at length I cried,
“Thou hast done this: away, thou evil thing!
Desperate beauty take thy light away,
That makes me pale, and he will come to me.
Truly has it been said of thee
“Hosts to madness leadeth she,”
Since Cuhoolin thou hast led.
I pray thee go and work no further ill.
He has cursed us both. Leave him to me to cure.
Though here thy voice be potent, matched with mine,
To hold and trouble him, let him once return
Among the old things, and a thousand voices
Will sing with gathering murmur, as the leaves
Of forest boughs innumerable,—will sing
The old sweet peace into his breast again.
I am but one leaf,—nothing; thou a tree:
Yet is the tree but little to the forest
Of friends, loves, occupations will surround him
In his own home, Cooalni. Have compassion:
Return, O Fand, to thine immortal spouse,
And leave to me my mortal.”
Amazed stood also Fand: at length I cried,
“Thou hast done this: away, thou evil thing!
Desperate beauty take thy light away,
That makes me pale, and he will come to me.
Truly has it been said of thee
“Hosts to madness leadeth she,”
Since Cuhoolin thou hast led.
I pray thee go and work no further ill.
He has cursed us both. Leave him to me to cure.
Though here thy voice be potent, matched with mine,
To hold and trouble him, let him once return
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Will sing with gathering murmur, as the leaves
Of forest boughs innumerable,—will sing
The old sweet peace into his breast again.
I am but one leaf,—nothing; thou a tree:
Yet is the tree but little to the forest
Of friends, loves, occupations will surround him
In his own home, Cooalni. Have compassion:
Return, O Fand, to thine immortal spouse,
And leave to me my mortal.”
| Fand and Other Poems | |