 | Claribel and Other Poems |  |
238
A HOMILY
Why hath God led thy noble beauty hither?
To lay upon my heart, a gather'd flower,
Through the brief time of passion; then to wither,
And drop away upon my coffin'd hour?
To lay upon my heart, a gather'd flower,
Through the brief time of passion; then to wither,
And drop away upon my coffin'd hour?
Is human life nought but a lusty living,
A day of pleasure nighted by the grave,
With no hereafter dawning, no forgiving
Of all the eternal hopes our spirits crave?
A day of pleasure nighted by the grave,
With no hereafter dawning, no forgiving
Of all the eternal hopes our spirits crave?
Is love the mere lamp of a wanton chamber,
Whose walls are grave-stones, ne'er so finely hid?
Is all the height where Love and Hope can clamber,
Alas! no higher than our coffin-lid?
Whose walls are grave-stones, ne'er so finely hid?
Is all the height where Love and Hope can clamber,
Alas! no higher than our coffin-lid?
Is Love a fool for all its future-yearning?
Wise only in the drunkenness of bliss?
Is there no flame divine within us burning?
Is Hope betray'd so cheaply with a kiss?
Wise only in the drunkenness of bliss?
Is there no flame divine within us burning?
Is Hope betray'd so cheaply with a kiss?
239
Why hath God led thy noble beauty hither?
Why doth celestial light inform thine eyes?
Is it to guide the lone wayfarer? Whither?
The Star of the East hangs not o'er Paradise.
Why doth celestial light inform thine eyes?
Is it to guide the lone wayfarer? Whither?
The Star of the East hangs not o'er Paradise.
Some girl with delicate skin and golden tresses,
And eyes that float in their voluptuous light,
Holding her boy-adorer in the jesses
Of her caprice, staying his spirit's flight,
And eyes that float in their voluptuous light,
Holding her boy-adorer in the jesses
Of her caprice, staying his spirit's flight,
Smoothing his folded pinions with light fingers,
Kissing his vigour to a pleasant swoon,
Until the God sunk in the Dreamer lingers
Fondly beside her for the frailest boon,—
Kissing his vigour to a pleasant swoon,
Until the God sunk in the Dreamer lingers
Fondly beside her for the frailest boon,—
Is this the highest end of all thy beauty?
O noble woman! art thou but a girl?
Hast thou no thought of all the scope of duty?
No aim beyond the fingering of a curl?
O noble woman! art thou but a girl?
Hast thou no thought of all the scope of duty?
No aim beyond the fingering of a curl?
Why hath God made thee beautiful and loving?
Only to bear the bacchanal cup of life?
Cup-bearing Hebe! seek thou Jove's approving:
O Beauty! be thou Strength's diviner wife.
Only to bear the bacchanal cup of life?
Cup-bearing Hebe! seek thou Jove's approving:
O Beauty! be thou Strength's diviner wife.
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