University of Virginia Library

At the noon of a May night,
When the stars are all alight,
And the white moon wanders through the grey;
And slowly over all
God's gentle hand doth fall,
To shield tired eyes from the day;—

At such a night's noon,
I watched the stars and moon,
Till they and I alone did seem to be;
Till in that silver throng,
Sorely my soul did long
To rove at will, and many wonders see.

Wherefore I let it large,
And up from Earth's dim marge
It bounded like a horse from broken rein;
From the Dragon's flaming crest
To Orion's star-bound breast,
It roamed upon that Planet-studded plain.

On the broad flank of the Bear,
Dubhè flashed fierce and clear,
Lighting his glancing eyes and gleaming tusk;
And the Lion shook his mane,
And the great star-feathered Crane
Was up among his brothers of the dusk.

In the Northern Bull's bright van
I saw dread Aldebaran,
Andromeda's wild hair I saw a-flame,
By the Lyre's glittering strings,
Down through the Swan's white wings,
Unto a lovely, lonely light I came.

A cloud of splendour sent
Out on the firmament,
As 't were the breath of each light-laden star,
A stream of splendour seen,
Broad in that sea of sheen,
Like Indian rivers flowing seaward far.

None other orbs did move
For such sweet show of love,
None shone like these in the sky companies;
I knew the Sisters Seven
Were the light-bearers of Heaven,
Whom men do name the tearful Pleiades.

On each broad Planet's rim
Each held an urn at brim,
And poured its molten silver down her world;
In which fair gift of light
It's live things took delight,
And she in them:—one orb alone was furled

In gloom; nor ray did send,
Save when the Six did bend
Their sister glances on the lonely one;
Whereat I could descry
A sad, mild majesty,
Sitting unlighted on a lightless sun.

Why she alone of Seven,
Nor gave nor took in Heaven
Heaven's gift and gladness—Heaven-filling light—
Wherefore God's awful wrath
Sent her that lampless path,
And dimmed her crown among the Queens of Night.

I longed and sought to hear,—
Oh! gather round and near,—
I know that starless angel's story through;
It was not all a dream,
It did not wholly seem,—
Listen! I strike low strings! and tell it true.

Oh! Sisters Six, lead my dark star and me,
For I am Merope—blind Merope,
And I go shorn of light who lighted all.
Oh, splendent Sister Stars! gleam on my path,
And show me where it winds among the worlds,
Nor turn your glances hence, because I sit
And moan upon the story of my sin,
For I am Merope—blind Merope,—
Merope—light-abandoned Merope,
Who stood between God's lowest and God's love.

Oh, thrice twain Sisters! lead my world along.
In the beginning when none was save He,
God flung from both great hands His star-seed forth
Over the endless meadows of the air;
Wherein, as in the grain the broad green blade,
Life lay, and life's high loves and happy ends;
And unto each He gave fit ministrant,
And faithful warder. Some were kings of suns,
And dipped their cressets in the molten gold
That rippled round His throne; and other some
Fed on their borrowed glory, and were glad,
Frail spirits, shunning the full glance of God;
Some with the vaporous wreaths they did bestride,
Faded or were illumed; and some at speed
Rode errant angels, singing thorough space,
Curbing the Comets to their headlong course;
And unto some He gave a gentler gift,
To tend the lower worlds, and shine for them;
And unto us, His youngest-born, the Earth,
An ever-needing, never-ceasing care:
And chief He charged our Seven Sister-lights
To wax and wane above her, keeping aye
Mid station: and at noon and night, and ever,
To listen open-eared, and bear above
Unto His feet its children's cries and tears,—
For all tears that do fall, fall for God's ear.
Ai, ai! it was our charge—a gracious charge,
Ai, ai! I lost love's task unlovingly,
or I am Merope—blind Merope,—
Merope,—light-abandoned Merope,
Who stood between God's lowest and God's love.

Oh, Sisters Six! I follow plainingly,—
For I am Merope; and on my brow
God, at the giving of the silver worlds,
Laying His hand, left splendour. None of all,
Sisters—not one of all your gleaming band,
Wore whiter glory, or stood nearer God.
First of the seven lights I came and went,
And unto me Electra bent her beams,
And Maia bowed her brightness—and ye three,
Alcyone, Celæno, Taygete,
And silver Sterope, next me in place,
Took light from me, and tended me with love.
I was a perfect Angel of pure ray,
Chosen a chief of Planets. Woe is me!
I am a wildered thing in well-known paths,
For I am Merope,—lorn Merope,—
She that was great in Heaven become the least,
Standing between God's lowest and God's love.

Oh, Sisters! lead me with the sound of song,
Sweep solemn music forth from balanced wings,
And leave it cloudlike in the fluttered sky,
That I may feel and follow. Ah! my light,
My vanished lovely light! I sate in place
With wakeful eyes and kept the earth in ken;
And ye around me waited for my word.
Far down below the cone of shadow erept
Whereunder was Earth's night, and from its gloom
Prayers, and the sound of tears, and other sounds
Which unto angel ears are strange, came up
Like smoke from peaked volcano, and our vans
Fanned them fresh breath to take them on to God.
Sisters! amid the myriad cries that rose
From lips that Night's nepenthe could not calm,
Came a long prayer for mercy, growing loud
As it waxed hopeless—she who uttered it,
A sad stained woman, with a fair fierce cheek,
Kneeling beside the black rim of a river,
The rim of a black river, surging out
From a great city's glare into the gloom.
I saw her—and ye saw her, Sisters mine,
Plucking the mother's bosom from her babe
Ere the waves took them—one starved dead of love,
And one of life—both crying one heart-cry
That asked God's pity in pain's common tongue;
And ye said, “Sister, let it go to God;”
And I, who knowing all things knew her sin,
And what deed stained the raiment of her soul,
Answered, “It goeth not, her grief is just;”
And struck it down the sky. Woe! woe! her cry
Fell, and then rose, and grew up from a groan
Into a voice,—a voice that struck the Stars
And bounded from their brilliant capes, and rolled
Louder than living thunder, crash on crash,
Thrilling the Planets, till each Angel knew
The very voice of God, saying, “Thou Star!
Thou, Merope! go earthward.” Ah, my light!
Oh, Sisters, lead my world on while I weep,
For I am Merope,—blind Merope,
Merope,—light-abandoned Merope,
Who heard unmoved God's lowest ask His love.

Hear no more, holy Sisters, hear no more!
Bar the white porch of each unshamèd ear
With double-folded wing, for I must speak
Of things that enter not at that high gate,—
The mournful matter of a mortal life,
Whereto I went—hence,—but I know not how!
Fairer are homes of heaven, yet very fair
Thy fields and fountains were, my prison-house,
Caverns and woods, valleys and veiny brooks;
And thou, too, mountain-cradled Indian stream,
By whose green rim my feet new from the clouds
Touched the hard earth, and stood: in whose great towns
My spirit breathed harsh air of earth,—and lived:
Within the temple of that country's God
Amid the Indian maids I moved as one,
And took the manner of their mood and tongue,
And wore their vest and veil, and bore the name
An earthly father gave, and called his boy
A gentle human boy, loving and brave,
My brother!—Oh, woe! woe! light me along!
For I am Merope,—shamed Merope,
She that was made God's lowest on the earth,
Standing between God's lowest and His love.

Oh! Stars,—I say not Sisters, saying this:—
War rose in that our home, spears fringed the walls
Where corn bristled before; an old fierce king
Sought us for slaves, and men laid down their lives
That others might live free: my brother fought
A-front in all the battles, for these hands
Buckled the steel that kept his heart from harm,
And fed his quiver. Sinless human love
Touched me, and on the battlements by night,
Gazing unknowingly upon mine own,
I charged Star-Angels to shine fair for him,
And send him loving light. At such a time,
The captain of the chariots of the king,
Watching our wall, cast eyes of earnest love
On me, and lit my soul up with a flame
Wherein all maiden meekness, fear and faith,
Courage to strive and purity to pray,
And the last little wrack of glory lost,
Melted as May snow melts under the sun,
And left a bare bad heart. Oh! hear me not,
High Stars! a cursed thing is loveless love,—
Accursed of God, I knew it, and I fell.
Am I not Merope?—dark Merope,
That Merope whom God's wrath did cast down,
Standing between God's lowest and God's love.

Sisters! lead me along. The Planets pale,
The powers of Heaven are pale to hear in Heaven
The story of my shame. Ai, ai! light on!
I hurry to the ending. Many an eve,—
Oh, silver worlds, ye saw it!—we did meet,
And drank the burning cup of Passion dry,
Nor slacked the draught, nor stayed, though we might see
The dreggy poison through the purple wine.
Oh, a strong thing is Love!—strong as a fiend
To drag the soul to Hell,—strong as a saint
To lift it to sweet Heaven! I swore to him
To yield the city open-gated up
Unto his thirsty swords, for pity went,
And faith, and fair thoughts,—all but headlong love,
At his strong breath. My brother kept the guard
I' the eastern gate: I took him food, and tried
The buckles of his breastplate,—one I loosed,
And drew his battle-knife, and laughingly
Struck on the tempered scales, whereat he smiled,
And bade me strike amain: good sooth! I did,—
Down through the stolen passage past his heart,
That the life left him ere the bright blood came;
Then I flung back the portals, and let in
A sea of stormy plumes,—it swept along
One little breath-time, soon a rock-like band
Met it—and stayed—and turned, and scattered it,
Ten to a hundred, fighting for the right,
And scored the backs of the fliers, for all fled
Save one; and him, under my wringing hands,
The savage lances stabbed through greave and groin:
Then mine eyes swam in blood; some angry gripe
Somewhither haled the reeking corse and me
Past howling citizens. Oh, let me end!
Oh! light sad Merope, and let her end!
Merope,—hope-abandoned Merope,
Who stood between God's lowest and God's love!

Oh, sapphire-vested Sisters! oh, crowned Lights!
Bear with my moan a little; I must tell
How human life did leave me. It was when
The stream whereby we lived did slowly rise
To flood his rushy banks. I, gaining sight,
Waking in fetters by the dark stream-side,
Saw under me the swelling tide, and knew
Cold Death was creeping upward. Oh! I shrieked,
And strained the links that held me to the slime,
And sank soul-stricken on the bloody breast
Of what I loved,—he lay there, and on mine
My child, poor fool! I tore him off, and then,
Mad, bleeding, passion-poisoned, wild with woe,
Kneeling beside the black rim of the river,—
The rim of the black river, surging out
From the great city's glare into the gloom,
I cried aloud to God.The cry came back,
As I had spurned it! Yea, I knew it all!
As I had spurned it, sitting on my Star!
Yea, yea! I knew it all, and one wild space
God's anger scathed me, then the kind quick waves
Lapped o'er my lip and washed the foul life out;
And then I know not what,—and then I sat,
Dark on my darkling star. Oh, holy God!
I do adore Thee, Mighty, Merciful,
Pitying all things, Thou didst pity me,
Who pitied not; for I am Merope,—
Ai, ai! Light-bearers, I am Merope,
Merope,—Heaven-exiled Merope,
Who stood between God's lowest and God's love.