 | Legends of the Morrow |  |
91
THE INSCRUTABLE.
I
Dread under-life of dreams,Within whose midnight show
Souls drink at cavern-streams
That through the darkness flow:
To thee one hastes unconscious of his fate
To slake his thirst in hate.
92
II
He that hath swum the heavenOf woman's loving eyes—
To him a dream is given;
The maiden's father dies;
A dream that never to his thought had passed,
Till in the night-hell cast.
III
He loves her and she loves,But stern that father's heart
Whom every passion moves
Their holy hope to thwart.
Can they, meek sleepers, the dream-demons call
To burst the iron thrall?
93
IV
That night in dreams that swayThe soul to shedding blood,
One hears his own voice say
In sleep's half-weary mood,
“Take down your father's sword and quickly slide
The blade into his side.
V
“Disguise the seeming guilt,And bend his fingers round,
And put them on the hilt,
And leave him to his wound.”
In that strange dream until the break of day,
Asleep the lover lay.
94
VI
He wakes, aghast; he strivesTo get the vision hence,
That into morning lives,
And fastens on his sense.
'Tis but a dream, but should her hand fulfil
His will within her will!
VII
She comes up wild and pale,She wrings her hands in pain,
She utters with a wail—
Who hath my father slain!
My anguished heart sobbed all night in its sleep;
I felt it sob and weep.
95
VIII
I saw you while I slept,And to my dream you spoke;
All night the words I kept,
I heard them when I woke:
“Take down your father's sword and quickly slide
The blade into his side.
IX
“Disguise the seeming guilt,And bend his fingers round,
And put them on the hilt,
And leave him to his wound.”
O the false voice, that it so true should seem
In that unthought-of dream!
96
X
I hurried to the bed,I saw that he was slain,
I saw the blood was shed,
I saw the deep,—deep stain.
His sword was through his side,—thrust,—on the hilt
His fingers took the guilt.
| Legends of the Morrow | |