Or, — for  I  know  thy  heart, — a  dearer  toil, —

To  lure  into  the  air  a  face  long  sick,

To  gild  the  brow  that  from  its  dead  looks  up,

To  shine  on  the  unforgiven  of  this  world ;

With  slow  sweet  surgery  restore  the  brain,

And  to  dispel  shadows  and  shadowy  fear."

When  he  had  spoken,  humbly  Idas  said  :

"  After  such  argument  what  can  I  plead  ?

23


"MARPESSA


Or  what  pale  promise  make  ?     Yet  since  it  is

In  women  to  pity  rather  than  to  aspire,

A  little  I  will  speak.     I  love  thee  then

Not  only  for  thy  body  packed  with  sweet

Of  all  this  world,  that  cup  of  brimming-  June,

That  jar  of  violet  wine  set  in  the  air,

That  palest  rose  sweet  in  the  night  of  life ;

Nor  for  that  stirring"  bosom  all  besieged

By  drowsing  lovers,  or  thy  perilous  hair;

Nor  for  that  face  that  might  indeed  provoke

Invasion  of  old  cities ;  no,  nor  all

Thy  freshness  stealing  on  me  like  strange  sleep.
24


^'MARPESSA"

Not  for  this  only  do  I  love  thee,  but

Because  Infinity  upon  thee  broods ;

And  thou  art  full  of  whispers  and  of  shadows.
Thou  meanest  what  the  sea  has  striven  to  say

So  long,  and  yearned  up  the  cliffs  to  tell ;

Thou  art  what  all  the  winds  have  uttered  not,

What  the  still  night  suggesteth  to  the  heart.
Thy  voice  is  like  to  music  heard  ere  birth,

Some  spirit  lute  touched  on  a  spirit  sea ;

Thy  face  remembered  is  from  other  worlds,

It  has  been  died  for,  though  I  know  not  when.
It  has  been  sung  of,  though  I  know  not  where.
