 | Under Green Leaves |  |
56
THE INTERVIEW.
I
Heavily the rain-dropsBeat the pane;
On the housetop hoarsely
Creak'd the vane;
The wind came battering by,
Like fierce artillery
Against a town;
Or with a fitful wail
Crept through the leafless vale
Or moorland brown.
57
II
In that wintry midnight,Through the gloom,
I beheld a vision
In my room;
I shudder'd at the sight,—
Its face in ghastly light
Familiar shone;
And all its heart lay bare
As a landscape in the air,—
Mine own! mine own!
III
'Twas my face before me,Pallid-hued;
'Twas mine eyes beheld me
Where I stood.
Pointing its fingers thin,
This thing, with hideous grin,
And angry start,
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Knowest thou this,—I touch?”—
And touch'd its heart.
IV
With a flash electric,It became
Palpable before me
Like a flame;
And I could read and see
Its inmost mystery,
And breach of law;
Its guilty passion strong,
Its weakness hidden long,
And blackest flaw.
V
Perfidies unnumber'd;Secrets dire,
Written out and burning
As with fire;
59
Laid bare as with a knife,
Through quivering flesh;
Dead things that no man knew,
Most wretched, but most true,
Revived afresh.
VI
All my love and madness;All my guilt;
All my tears of anguish
Vainly spilt;
My agonies and fears;
The skeletons of years;
My hopes entomb'd;
My crimes; my broken truth;
Up from the deeps of youth
Before me loom'd.
VII
“Hide it, cruel spirit,Or I die!
60
With life's eye!”—
I cover'd up my face;
Between me and its place
Came mist and cloud:
“And is this heart, my heart—
So foul in every part?”—
I groan'd aloud.
VIII
Light broke in upon meFrom afar;
And faith in God, high-shining
Like a star.
And when I look'd again,
I saw, amid the stain
Of that frail clay,
A glow of pure desire—
A spark of heavenly fire—
Burning alway.
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IX
“Shall I sit lamenting?—Ah, not so!
Sympathy and pity
For men's woe,
A love surpassing death,
A calm but humble faith,
To me are given;
Accuser!—in this hour
My heart defies thy power,
With strength from Heaven!”
| Under Green Leaves | |