 | The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston |  |
BEFORE BATTLE.
Here in this place, where none can see,
Lean out your throat, and let us kiss;
Who knows? — to-morrow I may be
As far from any joy like this,
As is my own sea-beaten strand
From this fair land.
Lean out your throat, and let us kiss;
Who knows? — to-morrow I may be
As far from any joy like this,
As is my own sea-beaten strand
From this fair land.
She put the hair back from her face,
And kissed him on his eager mouth;
Her kiss was warm, and long her gaze,
He felt the passion of his youth
Burn fierce through every thrilling vein
Till it was pain.
And kissed him on his eager mouth;
Her kiss was warm, and long her gaze,
He felt the passion of his youth
Burn fierce through every thrilling vein
Till it was pain.
54
He filled for her a cup of wine,
The sparkling wine as red as blood;
She quickly drank, and for a sign
He kissed its edge, as saints the rood,
Before Death plucks their souls away,
Too faint to pray.
The sparkling wine as red as blood;
She quickly drank, and for a sign
He kissed its edge, as saints the rood,
Before Death plucks their souls away,
Too faint to pray.
He said, “O love, the wine is sweet,
But, sweet, thy kiss is sweeter still!”
She flushed, with sudden joy and heat;
She said, “O love, then take thy fill
Of both these things, for both thine are,
Before the war.”
But, sweet, thy kiss is sweeter still!”
She flushed, with sudden joy and heat;
She said, “O love, then take thy fill
Of both these things, for both thine are,
Before the war.”
Another cup of wine he quaffed,
Then in his arms her form he pressed.
He murmured low; she sighed and laughed, —
And they clung fiercely breast to breast:
While all her hair fell round his face,
Her love to grace.
Then in his arms her form he pressed.
He murmured low; she sighed and laughed, —
And they clung fiercely breast to breast:
While all her hair fell round his face,
Her love to grace.
She thrilled with passion, till her lips
Could nothing do but kiss and cleave;
Their souls were like sea-driven ships.
He felt her swelling bosom heave;
His lips her lips with kisses flaked,
Till both lips ached.
Could nothing do but kiss and cleave;
Their souls were like sea-driven ships.
He felt her swelling bosom heave;
His lips her lips with kisses flaked,
Till both lips ached.
His face above her fair, flushed face,
Now seemed a thing to wonder on;
Her soul was ravished by his gaze,
Her warm, wet eye-lids shook and shone,
Till, leaning back, for pure delight,
She laughed outright.
Now seemed a thing to wonder on;
Her soul was ravished by his gaze,
Her warm, wet eye-lids shook and shone,
Till, leaning back, for pure delight,
She laughed outright.
55
He wrung her long sweet fingers out;
He drained the passion of her mouth;
Her hair was all his face about, —
O life to life! O youth to youth!
O sea of joy, whose foam is fire!
O great desire!
He drained the passion of her mouth;
Her hair was all his face about, —
O life to life! O youth to youth!
O sea of joy, whose foam is fire!
O great desire!
But, suddenly, a sharp, shrill sound
Cut like a sword their dear delight.
Once more his arms about her wound;
They felt their pulses beat and smite.
At last he said, in accents low,
“The foe! the foe!”
Cut like a sword their dear delight.
Once more his arms about her wound;
They felt their pulses beat and smite.
At last he said, in accents low,
“The foe! the foe!”
Then quickly from her arms he sprang;
For all the night-black winding street
With clash of deadly weapons rang,
And sudden storm of passing feet.
She heard the thunder of the drum, —
Her lips grew dumb.
For all the night-black winding street
With clash of deadly weapons rang,
And sudden storm of passing feet.
She heard the thunder of the drum, —
Her lips grew dumb.
“O one night's love! Good-by!” he said,
And kissed her on the lips, and passed.
She heard his quick, departing tread;
She saw the torches glare at last;
She saw the street grow light as day,
And swooned away.
And kissed her on the lips, and passed.
She heard his quick, departing tread;
She saw the torches glare at last;
She saw the street grow light as day,
And swooned away.
A long hour afterwards, or more,
With stormy music, loud and strong,
With light behind, and light before,
The men marched down, an armèd throng;
And as they passed, he saw her light
Still burning bright.
With stormy music, loud and strong,
With light behind, and light before,
The men marched down, an armèd throng;
And as they passed, he saw her light
Still burning bright.
56
She from her chamber-window leant,
Deep down into the street to gaze;
Her head upon her hands was bent:
He looked, but could not see her face,
But still he thought, through sound and flame,
She cried his name.
Deep down into the street to gaze;
Her head upon her hands was bent:
He looked, but could not see her face,
But still he thought, through sound and flame,
She cried his name.
She watched the torches fade away,
She listened till the street grew still,
Then back upon her bed she lay,
Of her own thoughts to drink her fill;
And afterwards, when others wept,
She only slept.
She listened till the street grew still,
Then back upon her bed she lay,
Of her own thoughts to drink her fill;
And afterwards, when others wept,
She only slept.
Next night she revelled in the dance,
She quaffed her wine, she sang her song;
While he, with soldier's eyes askance,
And heart with lust of slaying strong,
Leaped laughing into battle's hell,
And struck and fell!
She quaffed her wine, she sang her song;
While he, with soldier's eyes askance,
And heart with lust of slaying strong,
Leaped laughing into battle's hell,
And struck and fell!
| The Collected Poems of Philip Bourke Marston | |