Maiden Ecstasy :: :: University of Virginia Library

Maiden Ecstasy

by Thomas Gordon Hake

Hake, Thomas Gordon (1809-1895)

THE SPIRIT'S KISS.

THE CHILD OF ROMANCE.

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THE SPIRIT'S KISS.

I

Through its pale chrysalis her parting soul
Sees round it glow, in wide and dazzling maze,
Flowers of all hues wreathing a sombre pool,
The while with dying gaze
Her eyes untwist the beams, as from a spool
Of gorgeous sun-spun rays.

II

She gathers in those colours, green and red
And azure, winding them with films of gold
Around her spotless spirit, thread by thread,
That, when her wings unfold,
In earth's flower-woven vesture garmented
She may her Heaven behold.

III

But, a fond guest, she promises to stay
Within her lover's soul and there to lie
Awhile in death; not thence to pass away
Till he shall also die.
‘One are we, loved one,’ oft-times would she say,
‘So will I linger nigh.’

IV

He, near her, sees the pool frown deep and dark,
As, overgrown with grass, against its rim
Floats helmless, oarless, her deserted bark
Oft pilotted by him,
Ere for her passage hence those waters stark
Were shadow-scored and dim.

V

Yet is she gay; the gloom cannot beguile
Her eyes from where her golden thread begins:
Intent upon the wreath, she has a smile
As angel-like she spins
The disentangled beams, and talks the while
Of the pure heaven she wins.

VI

‘She dies as perfect souls have died before,’
Sadly thinks he; ‘her raptures thrown away;
Yet does her morrow seem to her as sure
As 'twere her wedding day,
Which, though she sleep with those who wake no more,
Even death cannot delay.

VII

‘Many have died,’ he says, ‘and thus have given
A promise the beloved again to see;
But the warm vow has been as surely riven;
You will not come to me!’
‘Beloved,’ she says, ‘I'll come, be it from heaven,
Whate'er the barrier be!’

VIII

She seems to vanish now into the glow
That love diffuses o'er her fleeting face,
While the blue skies to him appear to flow
O'er her in folds of grace,
Then break and leave her phantom form below;
The earth once more her place.

IX

As one whose soul departs and reappears,
He watches her; he has a look of dread;
He shudders 'mid his doubts, as one who fears
The coming of the dead,
And the deep pledge that from her mouth he hears
Can never be unsaid!

X

Still his eyes say, ‘Beloved! no safer cell
Than your dear body your dear spirit needs
To bar it from another last farewell;
Oblivion all succeeds;
Between the tomb and where the living dwell
No secret passage leads.’

XI

But her eyes say, ‘To me, the lucid skies
Are as a glass; 'yond them a brighter day,
Which is our night, spreads out the galaxies,
In all their bright array;
So clear the path that when the body dies
The spirit knows its way.’

XII

Then his eyes say, ‘Think of the glozing wave
Whose flood, at last, the firmament o'erpowers;
That buries hopes themselves that cannot save;
And love and grief devours,
Deepening the depths of the forgotten grave
O'er which it laps and lowers.’

XIII

But her eyes say, ‘All lovely things emerge,
Though for a passing season they have died,
And rise anew, even ere the mortal dirge
Sends round its echoes wide.
The soul in its last ripple has a surge
Felt o'er heaven's inner side.’

XIV

His hand held out, her hand has dropped in his.
‘Angel of Light!’ he cries, ‘come yet once more.
Our hands are joined; be it the pledge of bliss;
And as to heaven you soar,
Into my lips, in one immortal kiss,
Your sacred spirit pour!’

XV

The one last rapture of her look unites
Their souls; hers now the death-lamp, his the tomb
Where she would stay with her unravelled lights,
That can no more illume
The deep eye-hollow of the starless nights;
The brooding place of doom!

XVI

A naked tree of life her grave embowers;
There droops her wreath on which the sickly sun
But pastures now the slowly working hours:
His course for her has run;
He heeds not now her everlasting flowers,
And they his glitter shun.

XVII

‘There lies she in a soul-devouring urn,
Or she would mind her pledge and come again:
But nevermore,’ he cries, ‘can she return
To still these achings vain:
Were hope a sun 'twould one day cease to burn
And ever dead remain.’

XVIII

The kiss came not, but shapes that plunge in sleep
Startle his senses and his night-watch share:
In terror's track across his room they sweep
And pale the blacker air,
While tearless burn into the rayless deep
His eyes, in red despair.

XIX

A flickering soul, as in a charnel-house,
Shines dimly within his; to him it clings,
As though the dead the living would espouse,
Whence terror comes that wrings
A heart no lingering courage can arouse;
That beats as if on wings!

XX

This dread is gone; in wondrous calm he lies
And feels her radiance not all from him torn,
Her image oft-times breaking on his eyes
Like slowly coming morn.
His heart has heaved its few remaining sighs;
His hand falls fever-worn.

XXI

Falling, there drops an unseen hand in his,
While creeping terror o'er his being steals:
His calm is death-webbed and a frozen bliss
His stiffened spirit seals,
When clings unto his lips an unseen kiss
And his last breath congeals.