I will face thy wrath, though it bite as a sword, And my soul shall burn for his soul, and atone.
""For, Lord, thou knowest, O G.o.d most wise, How gracious on earth were his deeds towards me.
Shall this be a small thing in thine eyes, That is greater in mine than the whole great sea?"
"I have loved this woman my whole life long, And even for love"s sake when have I said "I love you"? when have I done you wrong, Living? but now I shall have you dead.
"Yea, now, do I bid you love me, love?
Love me or loathe, we are one not twain.
But G.o.d be praised in his heaven above For this my pleasure and that my pain!
"For never a man, being mean like me, Shall die like me till the whole world dies.
I shall drown with her, laughing for love; and she Mix with me, touching me, lips and eyes.
"Shall she not know me and see me all through, Me, on whose heart as a worm she trod?
You have given me, G.o.d requite it you, What man yet never was given of G.o.d."
O sweet one love, O my life"s delight, Dear, though the days have divided us, Lost beyond hope, taken far out of sight, Not twice in the world shall the G.o.ds do thus.
Had it been so hard for my love? but I, Though the G.o.ds gave all that a G.o.d can give, I had chosen rather the gift to die, Cease, and be glad above all that live.
For the Loire would have driven us down to the sea, And the sea would have pitched us from shoal to shoal; And I should have held you, and you held me, As flesh holds flesh, and the soul the soul.
Could I change you, help you to love me, sweet, Could I give you the love that would sweeten death, We should yield, go down, locked hands and feet, Die, drown together, and breath catch breath;
But you would have felt my soul in a kiss, And known that once if I loved you well; And I would have given my soul for this To burn for ever in burning h.e.l.l.
A LEAVE-TAKING
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear; Keep silence now, for singing-time is over, And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear, She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go, Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so, And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show, She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep, Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow, Saying "If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap."
All is reaped now; no gra.s.s is left to mow; And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep, She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof, Nor see love"s ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep; And though she saw all heaven in flower above, She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air, And the sea moving saw before it move One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair; Though all those waves went over us, and drove Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair, She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she, She too, remembering days and words that were, Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we, We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me, She would not see.
ITYLUS
Swallow, my sister, O sister swallow, How can thine heart be full of the spring?
A thousand summers are over and dead.
What hast thou found in the spring to follow?
What hast thou found in thine heart to sing?
What wilt thou do when the summer is shed?
O swallow, sister, O fair swift swallow, Why wilt thou fly after spring to the south, The soft south whither thine heart is set?
Shall not the grief of the old time follow?
Shall not the song thereof cleave to thy mouth?
Hast thou forgotten ere I forget?
Sister, my sister, O fleet sweet swallow, Thy way is long to the sun and the south; But I, fulfilled of my heart"s desire, Shedding my song upon height, upon hollow, From tawny body and sweet small mouth Feed the heart of the night with fire.
I the nightingale all spring through, O swallow, sister, O changing swallow, All spring through till the spring be done, Clothed with the light of the night on the dew, Sing, while the hours and the wild birds follow, Take flight and follow and find the sun.
Sister, my sister, O soft light swallow, Though all things feast in the spring"s guest-chamber, How hast thou heart to be glad thereof yet?
For where thou fliest I shall not follow, Till life forget and death remember, Till thou remember and I forget.
Swallow, my sister, O singing swallow, I know not how thou hast heart to sing.
Hast thou the heart? is it all past over?
Thy lord the summer is good to follow, And fair the feet of thy lover the spring: But what wilt thou say to the spring thy lover?
O swallow, sister, O fleeting swallow, My heart in me is a molten ember And over my head the waves have met.
But thou wouldst tarry or I would follow, Could I forget or thou remember, Couldst thou remember and I forget.
O sweet stray sister, O shifting swallow, The heart"s division divideth us.
Thy heart is light as a leaf of a tree; But mine goes forth among sea-gulfs hollow To the place of the slaying of Itylus, The feast of Daulis, the Thracian sea.
O swallow, sister, O rapid swallow, I pray thee sing not a little s.p.a.ce.
Are not the roofs and the lintels wet?
The woven web that was plain to follow, The small slain body, the flowerlike face, Can I remember if thou forget?
O sister, sister, thy first-begotten!
The hands that cling and the feet that follow, The voice of the child"s blood crying yet _Who hath remembered me? who hath forgotten?_ Thou hast forgotten, O summer swallow, But the world shall end when I forget.