 | Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) |  |
34
AT A WINDOW.
Dawn drowns the stars while still the city sleeps;
O'er swarms of dusky roofs one pallor creeps.
My little chamber-window towers so high
That even so shame-beset a thing as I
May get some sort of kinship with this chastity of sky.
O'er swarms of dusky roofs one pallor creeps.
My little chamber-window towers so high
That even so shame-beset a thing as I
May get some sort of kinship with this chastity of sky.
Once I was clean of spirit as are they,
Maidens, that dream pure dreams, not far away—
Maidens, with marriage-vows from lovers true,
With love to shield, with no rash deed to rue,
With all life budding like a rose and sparkling like its dew.
Maidens, that dream pure dreams, not far away—
Maidens, with marriage-vows from lovers true,
With love to shield, with no rash deed to rue,
With all life budding like a rose and sparkling like its dew.
How shrill the heavy carts go clattering past—
Clattering while shattering this dead calm at last!
And hark! off yonder, where the dulled lamp flares,
A woman blends with the wild oath she swears
Laughter that, ere you lose it, seems half sin's voice, half despair's.
Clattering while shattering this dead calm at last!
And hark! off yonder, where the dulled lamp flares,
A woman blends with the wild oath she swears
Laughter that, ere you lose it, seems half sin's voice, half despair's.
A few short years, and I shall be like her,
Unless death strike me first, and so deter
The black degeneration that must wring
From my lips, too, below its goad and sting,
Curses and blasphemies like those I heard that harlot fling.
Unless death strike me first, and so deter
The black degeneration that must wring
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Curses and blasphemies like those I heard that harlot fling.
There is a door-yard where this morn of May
Broods on the lilacs with their flowers in spray;
There is a threshold I no more shall cross,
Dim with the desolation of my loss—
However lightly o'er its verge the vines may flash and toss.
Broods on the lilacs with their flowers in spray;
There is a threshold I no more shall cross,
Dim with the desolation of my loss—
However lightly o'er its verge the vines may flash and toss.
And I am here—wife, mother, daughter, I
That was all three, slew each, yet fail to die!—
Whose madness was a challenge hurled at fate,
Who hear my own stabbed conscience moan “too late,”
Who, though I had won home's heaven of love, dared the world's hell of hate!
That was all three, slew each, yet fail to die!—
Whose madness was a challenge hurled at fate,
Who hear my own stabbed conscience moan “too late,”
Who, though I had won home's heaven of love, dared the world's hell of hate!
I sometimes dream that I can look on those
Deserted for the infamy I chose..
That I can see him sitting with bowed head
Among the children I have forfeited,
And by his bloodless cheek discern how his torn heart has bled!
Deserted for the infamy I chose..
That I can see him sitting with bowed head
Among the children I have forfeited,
And by his bloodless cheek discern how his torn heart has bled!
Perchance a child may come to clasp his knee
And question him in wistful words of me,
And answering, he may struggle to conceal
The outrage and revolt he still may feel,
Yet mould to a lie of mercy all his language might reveal.
And question him in wistful words of me,
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The outrage and revolt he still may feel,
Yet mould to a lie of mercy all his language might reveal.
I value not that peace whose calms begin
When pity-of-self plays juggler with our sin;
I am not one to stammer ere she name
The length and breadth and blackness of her blame;
My shame stares naked at me now, nor less nor more than shame.
When pity-of-self plays juggler with our sin;
I am not one to stammer ere she name
The length and breadth and blackness of her blame;
My shame stares naked at me now, nor less nor more than shame.
I might in time have paused; the abyss I grazed
Was not so bowered in bloom but had I gazed
Closelier I could have seen, beyond its rim,
That dizzying sweep to degradation's dim
Lair of the imperilled life, the broken and bleeding limb.
Was not so bowered in bloom but had I gazed
Closelier I could have seen, beyond its rim,
That dizzying sweep to degradation's dim
Lair of the imperilled life, the broken and bleeding limb.
So, then, the bound being taken, I arose
Maimed, staggering. He that sprang with me? God knows
Whither his coward feet unharmed had fled..
I had fallen, and fame, repute towered lost o'erhead..
I had fallen; abased and thick with thorns the path I now must tread!
Maimed, staggering. He that sprang with me? God knows
Whither his coward feet unharmed had fled..
I had fallen, and fame, repute towered lost o'erhead..
I had fallen; abased and thick with thorns the path I now must tread!
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Wounded, I have trod it. Lower, year by year,
It slopes, and ever loudlier I can hear
Voices of memories, loves, remorses, roll
And echo and interblend amid my soul,
Reeling toward darkness where even death might shudder while it stole.
It slopes, and ever loudlier I can hear
Voices of memories, loves, remorses, roll
And echo and interblend amid my soul,
Reeling toward darkness where even death might shudder while it stole.
Nay, death's corruptions are to stains like these
Purity! .. and alas, by slow degrees
I sink! for it was only of late I let
Wine work its opiate freaks with my regret,
But nightly I now desire, need, crave the trance its fumes beget!
Purity! .. and alas, by slow degrees
I sink! for it was only of late I let
Wine work its opiate freaks with my regret,
But nightly I now desire, need, crave the trance its fumes beget!
How sluggishly that tired boy slumbers there,
With brow so white beneath his gold of hair!
I wonder if awakening he at least
Will know me? or had recollection ceased
Long ere we met last night, he giddy and fevered from his feast?
With brow so white beneath his gold of hair!
I wonder if awakening he at least
Will know me? or had recollection ceased
Long ere we met last night, he giddy and fevered from his feast?
At any moment round him he may peer,
While mists of stupor from his vision clear;
And then, remembering, he may strive to show
A vestige of the kindly and tender glow
His frank young eyes turned full on mine a few brief hours ago.
While mists of stupor from his vision clear;
And then, remembering, he may strive to show
A vestige of the kindly and tender glow
His frank young eyes turned full on mine a few brief hours ago.
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And then .. the night's dead spell, the day's live beam
Off my true self will mercilessly seem
To strip its cheat and sorcery, till I stand
Before him, scathed and blemished with that brand
Of crime whereby his worthier self was ravaged and unmanned.
Off my true self will mercilessly seem
To strip its cheat and sorcery, till I stand
Before him, scathed and blemished with that brand
Of crime whereby his worthier self was ravaged and unmanned.
But he alertly as would some breeze that flings
A loose leaf from the stalk whereto it clings,
Will cast all remnant of disgrace aside—
So soon exonerated, justified,
That even the mother who bore him might perchance forget to chide.
A loose leaf from the stalk whereto it clings,
Will cast all remnant of disgrace aside—
So soon exonerated, justified,
That even the mother who bore him might perchance forget to chide.
“Men will be men, and youth is fire, not snow;
Wild oats were meant for such as he to sow
In merrymaker's folly or drift of whim..
He's plenty of time to grow sedate and grim”..
How surely all the old commonplaces hedge and shelter him!
Wild oats were meant for such as he to sow
In merrymaker's folly or drift of whim..
He's plenty of time to grow sedate and grim”..
How surely all the old commonplaces hedge and shelter him!
But ah, we women! if we fall, we fall!
Our cup is brimmed, and we must drink its gall
Down to the dregs, whatever bane they be!
No chance of pity, of hope, for such as we!..
How sternly all the old commonplaces crush and shatter me!
Our cup is brimmed, and we must drink its gall
Down to the dregs, whatever bane they be!
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How sternly all the old commonplaces crush and shatter me!
I, woman, if I sin, must face the doom
Of one drear future's ignominy and gloom;
Pardon, for me, grows unrelenting scorn;
My mirth or tears, though I may laugh or mourn,
Are loathsome as the vesture that a leper's body has borne.
Of one drear future's ignominy and gloom;
Pardon, for me, grows unrelenting scorn;
My mirth or tears, though I may laugh or mourn,
Are loathsome as the vesture that a leper's body has borne.
Repentance has for me no boon of peace,
No rehabilitation, no release;
Protest, prayer, supplication—all invite
A losing battle; I feel, howe'er I fight,
The dagger of odium pierce me and the scourge of censure smite.
No rehabilitation, no release;
Protest, prayer, supplication—all invite
A losing battle; I feel, howe'er I fight,
The dagger of odium pierce me and the scourge of censure smite.
Meek charity, ever rich in healing balms,
Has naught for me save pauperdom's cold alms;
The liquid eyes of love itself have grown
A gorgon's glare that changes me to stone..
What wonder I still sin on, being so forsaken, so alone!
Has naught for me save pauperdom's cold alms;
The liquid eyes of love itself have grown
A gorgon's glare that changes me to stone..
What wonder I still sin on, being so forsaken, so alone!
For one at least may get the chance to win
A kind of ghastly comfort out of sin;
A comradeship is here, however vile,
A human interchange of speech and smile,
A power by some faint spark of cheer guilt's nightmares to beguile.
A kind of ghastly comfort out of sin;
A comradeship is here, however vile,
40
A power by some faint spark of cheer guilt's nightmares to beguile.
And he erelong will rise and go his way,
Forgetting me, I doubt not, in a day;
On him indulgence and exemption wait;
His fault as mine was every whit as great;
But ah, he is man, and therefore could be safely profligate.
Forgetting me, I doubt not, in a day;
On him indulgence and exemption wait;
His fault as mine was every whit as great;
But ah, he is man, and therefore could be safely profligate.
What mockery is at root of laws that rust
In creeds of preelection so unjust?
If sin be sin, what preference bids it scan
With lowering looks of punishment and ban
The woman it enslaves and soils, yet pause to absolve the man?
In creeds of preelection so unjust?
If sin be sin, what preference bids it scan
With lowering looks of punishment and ban
The woman it enslaves and soils, yet pause to absolve the man?
Hath he not made his path of daily use
Teem with extenuation and excuse?
Customs and codes that for the man express
Freedom, are wrought the woman to oppress;
Woman must bend herself to these, or break below their stress!
Teem with extenuation and excuse?
Customs and codes that for the man express
Freedom, are wrought the woman to oppress;
Woman must bend herself to these, or break below their stress!
I, shall I stumble on with burdening gyves?..
The city wakes, yet from its myriad lives
Which of them all than mine draws wearier breath?
Ah, still, at least, whate'er the proud world saith,
Even one debased as I may reach the dignity of death!
The city wakes, yet from its myriad lives
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Ah, still, at least, whate'er the proud world saith,
Even one debased as I may reach the dignity of death!
I think the meanest life can somehow save
A trace of hidden grandeur for its grave—
Something that speaks to impious or devout
Through just this going away and passing out
Into the mystery and the dark, the silence and the doubt.
A trace of hidden grandeur for its grave—
Something that speaks to impious or devout
Through just this going away and passing out
Into the mystery and the dark, the silence and the doubt.
I, if I went like that, might thrill to see
Eternity between my shame and me!—
Might leave the accursed part I well may spare,
Here like a garment flung for beasts to tear,
While she who had worn it rushed to find some refuge ... God knows where!
Eternity between my shame and me!—
Might leave the accursed part I well may spare,
Here like a garment flung for beasts to tear,
While she who had worn it rushed to find some refuge ... God knows where!
To close the eyes—to clench the teeth—to steel
The nerves, no matter how your brain may reel
Or the heart thunder in your breast and ears!
Then, leap! .. and onward, then, through all time's years,
Oblivion follows, voiceless victor of disdain's worst jeers!
(She leaps into the street below.)
The nerves, no matter how your brain may reel
Or the heart thunder in your breast and ears!
Then, leap! .. and onward, then, through all time's years,
Oblivion follows, voiceless victor of disdain's worst jeers!
| Songs of Doubt and Dream (Poems) | |