Moans. Shall Love Pledge Hatred In Her Bitter Draughts, And Batten On Her Poisons? Love Forbid Love Passeth Not The Threshold Of Cold Hate, And Hate Is Strange Beneath The Roof Of Love. O Love, If Thou Be'St Love, Dry Up These Tears Shed For The Love Of Love; For Tho' Mine Image, The Subject Of Thy Power, Be Cold In Her, Yet, Like Cold Snow, It Melteth In The Source Of These Sad Tears, And Feeds Their Downward Flow. So Love, Arraign'D To Judgment And To Death, Received Unto Himself A Part Of Blame, Being Guiltless, As An Innocent Prisoner, Who, When The Woful Sentence Hath Been Past, And All The Clearness Of His Fame Hath Gone Beneath The Shadow Of The Curse Of Man, First Falls Asleep In Swoon, Wherefrom Awaked, And Looking Round Upon His Tearful Friends, Forthwith And In His Agony Conceives A Shameful Sense As Of A Cleaving Crime' For Whence Without Some Guilt Should Such Grief Be? So Died That Hour, And Fell Into The Abysm Of Forms Outworn, But Not To Me Outworn, Who Never Hail'D Another'Was There One? There Might Be One'One Other, Worth The Life That Made It Sensible. So That Hour Died Like Odour Rapt Into The Winged Wind Borne Into Alien Lands And Far Away. There Be Some Hearts So Airily Built, That They, They'When Their Love Is Wreck'D'If Love Can Wreck' On That Sharp Ridge Of Utmost Doom Ride Highly Above The Perilous Seas Of Change And Chance; Nay, More, Hold Out The Lights Of Cheerfulness; As The Tall Ship, That Many A Dreary Year Knit To Some Dismal Sandbank Far At Sea, All Thro' The Livelong Hours Of Utter Dark, Showers Slanting Light Upon The Dolorous Wave. For Me'What Light, What Gleam On Those Black Ways Where Love Could Walk With Banish'D Hope No More? It Was Ill-Done To Part You, Sisters Fair; Love'S Arms Were Wreath'D About The Neck Of Hope, And Hope Kiss'D Love, And Love Drew In Her Breath In That Close Kiss, And Drank Her Whisper'D Tales. They Said That Love Would Die When Hope Was Gone, And Love Mourn'D Long, And Sorrow'D After Hope; At Last She Sought Out Memory, And They Trod The Same Old Paths Where Love Had Walk'D With Hope, And Memory Fed The Soul Of Love With Tears. Ii. From That Time Forth I Would Not See Her More; But Many Weary Moons I Lived Alone' Alone, And In The Heart Of The Great Forest. Sometimes Upon The Hills Beside The Sea All Day I Watch'D The Floating Isles Of Shade, And Sometimes On The Shore, Upon The Sands Insensibly I Drew Her Name, Until The Meaning Of The Letters Shot Into My Brain; Anon The Wanton Billow Wash'D Them Over, Till They Faded Like My Love. The Hollow Caverns Heard Me'The Black Brooks Of The Midforest Heard Me'The Soft Winds, Laden With Thistledown And Seeds Of Flowers, Paused In Their Course To Hear Me, For My Voice Was All Of Thee: The Merry Linnet Knew Me, The Squirrel Knew Me. And The Dragonfly Shot By Me Like A Flash Of Purple Fire. The Rough Brier Tore My Bleeding Palms; The Hemlock, Brow-High, Did Strike My Forehead As I Past; Yet Trod I Not The Wildflower In My Path, Nor Bruised The Wildbird'S Egg. Was This The End? Why Grew We Then Together In One Plot? Why Fed We From One Fountain? Drew One Sun? Why Were Our Mothers' Branches Of One Stem? Why Were We One In All Things, Save In That Where To Have Been One Had Been The Cope And Crown Of All I Hoped And Fear'D?'If That Same Nearness Were Father To This Distance, And That One Vauntcourier To This Double? If Affection Living Slew Love, And Sympathy Hew'D Out The Bosom-Sepulchre Of Sympathy? Chiefly I Sought The Cavern And The Hill Where Last We Roam'D Together, For The Sound Of The Loud Stream Was Pleasant, And The Wind Came Wooingly With Woodbine Smells. Sometimes All Day I Sat Within The Cavern-Mouth, Fixing My Eyes On Those Three Cypress-Cones That Spired Above The Wood; And With Mad Hand Tearing The Bright Leaves Of The Ivy-Screen, I Cast Them In The Noisy Brook Beneath, And Watch'D Them Till They Vanish'D From My Sight Beneath The Bower Of Wreathed Eglantines: And All The Fragments Of The Living Rock (Huge Blocks, Which Some Old Trembling Of The World I Lad Loosen'D From The Mountain, Till They Fell Half-Digging Their Own Graves) These In My Agony Did I Make Bare Of All The Golden Moss, Wherewith The Dashing Runnel In The Spring Had Liveried Them All Over. In My Brain The Spirit Seem'D To Flag From Thought To Thought, As Moonlight Wandering Thro' A Mist: My Blood Crept Like Marsh Drains Thro' All My Languid Limbs; The Motions Of My Heart Seem'D Far Within Me, Unfrequent, Low, As Tho' It Told Its Pulses; And Yet It Shook Me, That My Frame Would Shudder, As If 'Twere Drawn Asunder By The Rack. But Over The Deep Graves Of Hope And Fear, And All The Broken Palaces Of The Past, Brooded One Master-Passion Evermore, Like To A Low-Hung And A Fiery Sky Above Some Fair Metropolis, Earth-Shock'D,' Hung Round With Ragged Rims And Burning Folds,' Embathing All With Wild And Woful Hues, Great Hills Of Ruins, And Collapsed Masses Of Thundershaken Columns Indistinct, And Fused Together In The Tyrannous Light' Ruins, The Ruin Of All My Life And Me! Sometimes I Thought Camilla Was No More, Some One Had Told Me She Was Dead, And Ask'D If I Would See Her Burial: Then I Seem'D To Rise, And Through The Forest-Shadow Borne With More Than Mortal Swiftness, I Ran Down The Steepy Sea-Bank, Till I Came Upon The Rear Of A Procession, Curving Round The Silver-Sheeted Bay: In Front Of Which Six Stately Virgins, All In White, Upbare A Broad Earth-Sweeping Pall Of Whitest Lawn, Wreathed Round The Bier With Garlands: In The Distance, From Out The Yellow Woods Upon The Hill Look'D Forth The Summit And The Pinnacles Of A Gray Steeple'Thence At Intervals A Low Bell Tolling. All The Pageantry, Save Those Six Virgins Which Upheld The Bier, Were Stoled From Head To Foot In Flowing Black; One Walk'D Abreast With Me, And Veil'D His Brow, And He Was Loud In Weeping And In Praise Of Her, We Follow'D: A Strong Sympathy Shook All My Soul: I Flung Myself Upon Him In Tears And Cries: I Told Him All My Love, How I Had Loved Her From The First; Whereat He Shrank And Howl'D, And From His Brow Drew Back His Hand To Push Me From Him; And The Face, The Very Face And Form Of Lionel Flash'D Thro' My Eyes Into My Innermost Brain, And At His Feet I Seem'D To Faint And Fall, To Fall And Die Away. I Could Not Rise Albeit I Strove To Follow. They Past On, The Lordly Phantasms! In Their Floating Folds They Past And Were No More: But I Had Fallen Prone By The Dashing Runnel On The Grass. Alway The Inaudible Invisible Thought, Artificer And Subject, Lord And Slave, Shaped By The Audible And Visible, Moulded The Audible And Visible; All Crisped Sounds Of Wave And Leaf And Wind, Flatter'D The Fancy Of My Fading Brain; The Cloud-Pavilion'D Element, The Wood, The Mountain, The Three Cypresses, The Cave, Storm, Sunset, Glows And Glories Of The Moon Below Black Firs, When Silent-Creeping Winds Laid The Long Night In Silver Streaks And Bars, Were Wrought Into The Tissue Of My Dream: The Moanings In The Forest, The Loud Brook, Cries Of The Partridge Like A Rusty Key Turn'D In A Lock, Owl-Whoop And Dor-Hawk-Whirr Awoke Me Not, But Were A Part Of Sleep, And Voices In The Distance Calling To Me And In My Vision Bidding Me Dream On, Like Sounds Without The Twilight Realm Of Dreams, Which Wander Round The Bases Of The Hills, And Murmur At The Low-Dropt Eaves Of Sleep, Half-Entering The Portals. Oftentimes The Vision Had Fair Prelude, In The End Opening On Darkness, Stately Vestibules To Caves And Shows Of Death: Whether The Mind, With Some Revenge'Even To Itself Unknown,' Made Strange Division Of Its Suffering With Her, Whom To Have Suffering View'D Had Been Extremest Pain; Or That The Clear-Eyed Spirit, Being Blunted In The Present, Grew At Length Prophetical And Prescient Of Whate'Er The Future Had In Store: Or That Which Most Enchains Belief, The Sorrow Of My Spirit Was Of So Wide A Compass It Took In All I Had Loved, And My Dull Agony, Ideally To Her Transferr'D, Became Anguish Intolerable. The Day Waned; Alone I Sat With Her: About My Brow Her Warm Breath Floated In The Utterance Of Silver-Chorded Tones: Her Lips Were Sunder'D With Smiles Of Tranquil Bliss, Which Broke In Light Like Morning From Her Eyes'Her Eloquent Eyes, (As I Have Seen Them Many A Hundred Times) Fill'D All With Pure Clear Fire, Thro' Mine Down Rain'D Their Spirit-Searching Splendours. As A Vision Unto A Haggard Prisoner, Iron-Stay'D In Damp And Dismal Dungeons Underground, Confined On Points Of Faith, When Strength Is Shock'D With Torment, And Expectancy Of Worse Upon The Morrow, Thro' The Ragged Walls, All Unawares Before His Half-Shut Eyes, Comes In Upon Him In The Dead Of Night, And With The Excess Of Sweetness And Of Awe, Makes The Heart Tremble, And The Sight Run Over Upon His Steely Gyves; So Those Fair Eyes Shone On My Darkness, Forms Which Ever Stood Within The Magic Cirque Of Memory, Invisible But Deathless, Waiting Still The Edict Of The Will To Reassume The Semblance Of Those Rare Realities Of Which They Were The Mirrors. Now The Light Which Was Their Life, Burst Through The Cloud Of Thought Keen, Irrepressible. It Was A Room Within The Summer-House Of Which I Spake, Hung Round With Paintings Of The Sea, And One A Vessel In Mid-Ocean, Her Heaved Prow Clambering, The Mast Bent And The Ravin Wind In Her Sail Roaring. From The Outer Day, Betwixt The Close-Set Ivies Came A Broad And Solid Beam Of Isolated Light, Crowded With Driving Atomies, And Fell Slanting Upon That Picture, From Prime Youth Well-Known Well-Loved. She Drew It Long Ago Forthgazing On The Waste And Open Sea, One Morning When The Upblown Billow Ran Shoreward Beneath Red Clouds, And I Had Pour'D Into The Shadowing Pencil'S Naked Forms Colour And Life: It Was A Bond And Seal Of Friendship, Spoken Of With Tearful Smiles; A Monument Of Childhood And Of Love; The Poesy Of Childhood; My Lost Love Symbol'D In Storm. We Gazed On It Together In Mute And Glad Remembrance, And Each Heart Grew Closer To The Other, And The Eye Was Riveted And Charm-Bound, Gazing Like The Indian On A Still-Eyed Snake, Low-Couch'D' A Beauty Which Is Death; When All At Once That Painted Vessel, As With Inner Life, Began To Heave Upon That Painted Sea; An Earthquake, My Loud Heart-Beats, Made The Ground Reel Under Us, And All At Once, Soul, Life And Breath And Motion, Past And Flow'D Away To Those Unreal Billows: Round And Round A Whirlwind Caught And Bore Us; Mighty Gyres Rapid And Vast, Of Hissing Spray Wind-Driven Far Thro' The Dizzy Dark. Aloud She Shriek'D; My Heart Was Cloven With Pain; I Wound My Arms About Her: We Whirl'D Giddily; The Wind Sung; But I Clasp'D Her Without Fear: Her Weight Shrank In My Grasp, And Over My Dim Eyes, And Parted Lips Which Drank Her Breath, Down-Hung The Jaws Of Death: I, Groaning, From Me Flung Her To Empty Phantom: All The Sway And Whirl Of The Storm Dropt To Windless Calm, And I Down Welter'D Thro' The Dark Ever And Ever. Iii. I Came One Day And Sat Among The Stones Strewn In The Entry Of The Moaning Cave; A Morning Air, Sweet After Rain, Ran Over The Rippling Levels Of The Lake, And Blew Coolness And Moisture And All Smells Of Bud And Foliage From The Dark And Dripping Woods Upon My Fever'D Brows That Shook And Throbb'D From Temple Unto Temple. To What Height The Day Had Grown I Know Not. Then Came On Me The Hollow Tolling Of The Bell, And All The Vision Of The Bier. As Heretofore I Walk'D Behind With One Who Veil'D His Brow. Methought By Slow Degrees The Sullen Bell Toll'D Quicker, And The Breakers On The Shore Sloped Into Louder Surf: Those That Went With Me, And Those That Held The Bier Before My Face, Moved With One Spirit Round About The Bay, Trod Swifter Steps; And While I Walk'D With These In Marvel At That Gradual Change, I Thought Four Bells Instead Of One Began To Ring, Four Merry Bells, Four Merry Marriage-Bells, In Clanging Cadence Jangling Peal On Peal' A Long Loud Clash Of Rapid Marriage-Bells. Then Those Who Led The Van, And Those In Rear, Rush'D Into Dance, And Like Wild Bacchanals Fled Onward To The Steeple In The Woods: I, Too, Was Borne Along And Felt The Blast Beat On My Heated Eyelids: All At Once The Front Rank Made A Sudden Halt; The Bells Lapsed Into Frightful Stillness; The Surge Fell From Thunder Into Whispers; Those Six Maids With Shrieks And Ringing Laughter On The Sand Threw Down The Bier; The Woods Upon The Hill Waved With A Sudden Gust That Sweeping Down Took The Edges Of The Pall, And Blew It Far Until It Hung, A Little Silver Cloud Over The Sounding Seas: I Turn'D: My Heart Shrunk In Me, Like A Snowflake In The Hand, Waiting To See The Settled Countenance Of Her I Loved, Adorn'D With Fading Flowers. But She From Out Her Death-Like Chrysalis, She From Her Bier, As Into Fresher Life, My Sister, And My Cousin, And My Love, Leapt Lightly Clad In Bridal White'Her Hair Studded With One Rich Provence Rose'A Light Of Smiling Welcome Round Her Lips'Her Eyes And Cheeks As Bright As When She Climb'D The Hill. One Hand She Reach'D To Those That Came Behind, And While I Mused Nor Yet Endured To Take So Rich A Prize, The Man Who Stood With Me Stept Gaily Forward, Throwing Down His Robes, And Claspt Her Hand In His: Again The Bells Jangled And Clang'D: Again The Stormy Surf Crash'D In The Shingle: And The Whirling Rout Led By Those Two Rush'D Into Dance, And Fled Wind-Footed To The Steeple In The Woods, Till They Were Swallow'D In The Leafy Bowers, And I Stood Sole Beside The Vacant Bier. There, There, My Latest Vision'Then The Event! Iv. The Golden Supper.1 (Another Speaks.) He Flies The Event: He Leaves The Event To Me: Poor Julian'How He Rush'D Away; The Bells, Those Marriage-Bells, Echoing In Ear And Heart' But Cast A Parting Glance At Me, You Saw, As Who Should Say 'Continue.' Well He Had One Golden Hour'Of Triumph Shall I Say! Solace At Least'Before He Left His Home. Would You Had Seen Him In That Hour Of His! He Moved Thro' All Of It Majestically' Restrain'D Himself Quite To The Close'But Now' Whether They Were His Lady'S Marriage-Bells, Or Prophets Of Them In His Fantasy, I Never Ask'D: But Lionel And The Girl Were Wedded, And Our Julian Came Again Back To His Mother'S House Among The Pines. But These, Their Gloom, The Mountains And The Bay, The Whole Land Weigh'D Him Down As 'Tna Does The Giant Of Mythology: He Would Go, Would Leave The Land For Ever, And Had Gone Surely, But For A Whisper, 'Go Not Yet,' Some Warning'Sent Divinely'As It Seem'D By That Which Follow'D'But Of This I Deem As Of The Visions That He Told'The Event Glanced Back Upon Them In His After Life, And Partly Made Them'Tho' He Knew It Not. And Thus He Stay'D And Would Not Look At Her' No Not For Months: But, When The Eleventh Moon After Their Marriage Lit The Lover'S Bay, Heard Yet Once More The Tolling Bell, And Said, Would You Could Toll Me Out Of Life, But Found' All Softly As His Mother Broke It To Him' A Crueller Reason Than A Crazy Ear, For That Low Knell Tolling His Lady Dead' Dead'And Had Lain Three Days Without A Pulse: All That Look'D On Her Had Pronounced Her Dead. And So They Bore Her (For In Julian'S Land They Never Nail A Dumb Head Up In Elm), Bore Her Free-Faced To The Free Airs Of Heaven, And Laid Her In The Vault Of Her Own Kin. What Did He Then? Not Die: He Is Here And Hale' Not Plunge Headforemost From The Mountain There, And Leave The Name Of Lover'S Leap Not He: He Knew The Meaning Of The Whisper Now, Thought That He Knew It. 'This, I Stay'D For This; O Love, I Have Not Seen You For So Long. Now, Now, Will I Go Down Into The Grave, I Will Be All Alone With All I Love, And Kiss Her On The Lips. She Is His No More: The Dead Returns To Me, And I Go Down To Kiss The Dead.' The Fancy Stirr'D Him So He Rose And Went, And Entering The Dim Vault, And, Making There A Sudden Light, Beheld All Round About Him That Which All Will Be. The Light Was But A Flash, And Went Again. Then At The Far End Of The Vault He Saw His Lady With The Moonlight On Her Face; Her Breast As In A Shadow-Prison, Bars Of Black And Bands Of Silver, Which The Moon Struck From An Open Grating Overhead High In The Wall, And All The Rest Of Her Drown'D In The Gloom And Horror Of The Vault. 'It Was My Wish,' He Said, 'To Pass, To Sleep, To Rest, To Be With Her'Till The Great Day Peal'D On Us With That Music Which Rights All, And Raised Us Hand In Hand.' And Kneeling There Down In The Dreadful Dust That Once Was Man, Dust, As He Said, That Once Was Loving Hearts, Hearts That Had Beat With Such A Love As Mine' Not Such As Mine, No, Nor For Such As Her' He Softly Put His Arm About Her Neck And Kiss'D Her More Than Once, Till Helpless Death And Silence Made Him Bold'Nay, But I Wrong Him, He Reverenced His Dear Lady Even In Death; But, Placing His True Hand Upon Her Heart, 'O, You Warm Heart,' He Moan'D, 'Not Even Death Can Chill You All At Once:' Then Starting, Thought His Dreams Had Come Again. 'Do I Wake Or Sleep? Or Am I Made Immortal, Or My Love Mortal Once More?' It Beat'The Heart'It Beat: Faint'But It Beat: At Which His Own Began To Pulse With Such A Vehemence That It Drown'D The Feebler Motion Underneath His Hand. But When At Last His Doubts Were Satisfied, He Raised Her Softly From The Sepulchre, And, Wrapping Her All Over With The Cloak He Came In, And Now Striding Fast, And Now Sitting Awhile To Rest, But Evermore Holding His Golden Burthen In His Arms, So Bore Her Thro' The Solitary Land Back To The Mother'S House Where She Was Born. There The Good Mother'S Kindly Ministering, With Half A Night'S Appliances, Recall'D Her Fluttering Life: She Rais'D An Eye That Ask'D 'Where?' Till The Things Familiar To Her Youth Had Made A Silent Answer: Then She Spoke 'Here! And How Came I Here?' And Learning It (They Told Her Somewhat Rashly As I Think) At Once Began To Wander And To Wail, 'Ay, But You Know That You Must Give Me Back: Send! Bid Him Come;' But Lionel Was Away' Stung By His Loss Had Vanish'D, None Knew Where. 'He Casts Me Out,' She Wept, 'And Goes''A Wail That Seeming Something, Yet Was Nothing, Born Not From Believing Mind, But Shatter'D Nerve, Yet Haunting Julian, As Her Own Reproof At Some Precipitance In Her Burial. Then, When Her Own True Spirit Had Return'D, 'Oh Yes, And You,' She Said, 'And None But You? For You Have Given Me Life And Love Again, And None But You Yourself Shall Tell Him Of It, And You Shall Give Me Back When He Returns.' 'Stay Then A Little,' Answer'D Julian, 'Here, And Keep Yourself, None Knowing, To Yourself; And I Will Do Your Will. I May Not Stay, No, Not An Hour; But Send Me Notice Of Him When He Returns, And Then Will I Return, And I Will Make A Solemn Offering Of You To Him You Love.' And Faintly She Replied, 'And I Will Do Your Will, And None Shall Know.' Not Know? With Such A Secret To Be Known. But All Their House Was Old And Loved Them Both, And All The House Had Known The Loves Of Both; Had Died Almost To Serve Them Any Way, And All The Land Was Waste And Solitary: And Then He Rode Away; But After This, An Hour Or Two, Camilla'S Travail Came Upon Her, And That Day A Boy Was Born, Heir Of His Face And Land, To Lionel. And Thus Our Lonely Lover Rode Away, And Pausing At A Hostel In A Marsh, There Fever Seized Upon Him: Myself Was Then Travelling That Land, And Meant To Rest An Hour; And Sitting Down To Such A Base Repast, It Makes Me Angry Yet To Speak Of It' I Heard A Groaning Overhead, And Climb'D The Moulder'D Stairs (For Everything Was Vile) And In A Loft, With None To Wait On Him, Found, As It Seem'D, A Skeleton Alone, Raving Of Dead Men'S Dust And Beating Hearts. A Dismal Hostel In A Dismal Land, A Flat Malarian World Of Reed And Rush But There From Fever And My Care Of Him Sprang Up A Friendship That May Help Us Yet. For While We Roam'D Along The Dreary Coast, And Waited For Her Message, Piece By Piece I Learnt The Drearier Story Of His Life; And, Tho' He Loved And Honour'D Lionel, Found That The Sudden Wail His Lady Made Dwelt In His Fancy: Did He Know Her Worth, Her Beauty Even? Should He Not Be Taught, Ev'N By The Price That Others Set Upon It, The Value Of That Jewel He Had To Guard? Suddenly Came Her Notice And We Past, I With Our Lover To His Native Bay. This Love Is Of The Brain, The Mind, The Soul: That Makes The Sequel Pure; Tho' Some Of Us Beginning At The Sequel Know No More. Not Such Am I: And Yet I Say The Bird That Will Not Hear My Call, However Sweet, But If My Neighbour Whistle Answers Him' What Matter? There Are Others In The Wood. Yet When I Saw Her (And I Thought Him Crazed, Tho' Not With Such A Craziness As Needs A Cell And Keeper), Those Dark Eyes Of Hers' Oh! Such Dark Eyes! And Not Her Eyes Alone, But All From These To Where She Touch'D On Earth, For Such A Craziness As Julian'S Look'D No Less Than One Divine Apology. So Sweetly And So Modestly She Came To Greet Us, Her Young Hero In Her Arms! 'Kiss Him,' She Said. 'You Gave Me Life Again. He, But For You, Had Never Seen It Once. His Other Father You! Kiss Him, And Then Forgive Him, If His Name Be Julian Too.' Talk Of Lost Hopes And Broken Heart! His Own Sent Such A Flame Into His Face, I Knew Some Sudden Vivid Pleasure Hit Him There But He Was All The More Resolved To Go, And Sent At Once To Lionel, Praying Him By That Great Love They Both Had Borne The Dead, To Come And Revel For One Hour With Him Before He Left The Land For Evermore; And Then To Friends'They Were Not Many'Who Lived Scatteringly About That Lonely Land Of His, And Bad Them To A Banquet Of Farewells. And Julian Made A Solemn Feast: I Never Sat At A Costlier; For All Round His Hall From Column On To Column, As In A Wood, Not Such As Here'An Equatorial One, Great Garlands Swung And Blossom'D; And Beneath, Heirlooms, And Ancient Miracles Of Art, Chalice And Salver, Wines That, Heaven Knows When, Had Suck'D The Fire Of Some Forgotten Sun, And Kept It Thro' A Hundred Years Of Gloom, Yet Glowing In A Heart Of Ruby'Cups Where Nymph And God Ran Ever Round In Gold' Others Of Glass As Costly'Some With Gems Moveable And Resettable At Will, And Trebling All The Rest In Value'Ah Heavens! Why Need I Tell You All?'Suffice To Say That Whatsoever Such A House As His, And His Was Old, Has In It Rare Or Fair Was Brought Before The Guest: And They, The Guests, Wonder'D At Some Strange Light In Julian'S Eyes (I Told You That He Had His Golden Hour), And Such A Feast, Ill-Suited As It Seem'D To Such A Time, To Lionel'S Loss And His And That Resolved Self-Exile From A Land He Never Would Revisit, Such A Feast So Rich, So Strange, And Stranger Ev'N Than Rich, But Rich As For The Nuptials Of A King. And Stranger Yet, At One End Of The Hall Two Great Funereal Curtains, Looping Down, Parted A Little Ere They Met The Floor, About A Picture Of His Lady, Taken Some Years Before, And Falling Hid The Frame. And Just Above The Parting Was A Lamp: So The Sweet Figure Folded Round With Night Seem'D Stepping Out Of Darkness With A Smile. Well Then'Our Solemn Feast'We Ate And Drank, And Might'The Wines Being Of Such Nobleness' Have Jested Also, But For Julian'S Eyes, And Something Weird And Wild About It All: What Was It? For Our Lover Seldom Spoke, Scarce Touch'D The Meats; But Ever And Anon A Priceless Goblet With A Priceless Wine Arising, Show'D He Drank Beyond His Use; And When The Feast Was Near An End, He Said: 'There Is A Custom In The Orient, Friends' I Read Of It In Persia'When A Man Will Honour Those Who Feast With Him, He Brings And Shows Them Whatsoever He Accounts Of All His Treasures The Most Beautiful, Gold, Jewels, Arms, Whatever It May Be. This Custom''' Pausing Here A Moment, All The Guests Broke In Upon Him With Meeting Hands And Cries About The Banquet''Beautiful! Who Could Desire More Beauty At A Feast?' The Lover Answer'D, 'There Is More Than One Here Sitting Who Desires It. Laud Me Not Before My Time, But Hear Me To The Close. This Custom Steps Yet Further When The Guest Is Loved And Honour'D To The Uttermost. For After He Hath Shown Him Gems Or Gold, He Brings And Sets Before Him In Rich Guise That Which Is Thrice As Beautiful As These, The Beauty That Is Dearest To His Heart' 'O My Heart'S Lord, Would I Could Show You,' He Says, 'Ev'N My Heart Too.' And I Propose To-Night To Show You What Is Clearest To My Heart, And My Heart Too. 'But Solve Me First A Doubt. I Knew A Man, Nor Many Years Ago; He Had A Faithful Servant, One Who Loved His Master More Than All On Earth Beside. He Falling Sick, And Seeming Close On Death, His Master Would Not Wait Until He Died, But Bad His Menials Bear Him From The Door, And Leave Him In The Public Way To Die. I Knew Another, Not So Long Ago, Who Found The Dying Servant, Took Him Home, And Fed, And Cherish'D Him, And Saved His Life. I Ask You Now, Should This First Master Claim His Service, Whom Does It Belong To? Him Who Thrust Him Out, Or Him Who Saved His Life?' This Question, So Flung Clown Before The Guests, And Balanced Either Way By Each, At Length When Some Were Doubtful How The Law Would Hold, Was Handed Over By Consent Of All To One Who Had Not Spoken, Lionel. Fair Speech Was His, And Delicate Of Phrase. And He Beginning Languidly'His Loss Weigh'D On Him Yet'But Warming As He Went, Glanced At The Point Of Law, To Pass It By, Affirming That As Long As Either Lived, By All The Laws Of Love And Gratefulness, The Service Of The One So Saved Was Due All To The Saver'Adding, With A Smile, The First For Many Weeks'A Semi-Smile As At A Strong Conclusion''Body And Soul And Life And Limbs, All His To Work His Will.' Then Julian Made A Secret Sign To Me To Bring Camilla Down Before Them All. And Crossing Her Own Picture As She Came, And Looking As Much Lovelier As Herself Is Lovelier Than All Others'On Her Head A Diamond Circlet, And From Under This A Veil, That Seemed No More Than Gilded Air, Flying By Each Fine Ear, An Eastern Gauze With Seeds Of Gold'So, With That Grace Of Hers, Slow-Moving As A Wave Against The Wind, That Flings A Mist Behind It In The Sun' And Hearing High In Arms The Mighty Babe, The Younger Julian, Who Himself Was Crown'D With Roses, None So Rosy As Himself' And Over All Her Babe And Her The Jewels Of Many Generations Of His House Sparkled And Flash'D, For He Had Decked Them Out As For A Solemn Sacrifice Of Love' So She Came In:'I Am Long In Telling It, I Never Yet Beheld A Thing So Strange, Sad, Sweet, And Strange Together'Floated In' While All The Guests In Mute Amazement Rose' And Slowly Pacing To The Middle Hall, Before The Board, There Paused And Stood, Her Breast Hard-Heaving, And Her Eyes Upon Her Feet, Not Daring Yet To Glance At Lionel. But Him She Carried, Him Nor Lights Nor Feast Dazed Or Amazed, Nor Eyes Of Men; Who Cared Only To Use His Own, And Staring Wide And Hungering For The Gilt And Jewell'D World About Him, Look'D, As He Is Like To Prove, When Julian Goes, The Lord Of All He Saw. 'My Guests,' Said Julian: 'You Are Honour'D Now Ev'N To The Uttermost: In Her Behold Of All My Treasures The Most Beautiful, Of All Things Upon Earth The Dearest To Me.' Then Waving Us A Sign To Seat Ourselves, Led His Dear Lady To A Chair Of State. And I, By Lionel Sitting, Saw His Face Fire, And Dead Ashes And All Fire Again Thrice In A Second, Felt Him Tremble Too, And Heard Him Muttering, 'So Like, So Like; She Never Had A Sister. I Knew None. Some Cousin Of His And Hers'O God, So Like!' And Then He Suddenly Ask'D Her If She Were. She Shook, And Cast Her Eyes Down, And Was Dmnb. And Then Some Other Question'D If She Came From Foreign Lands, And Still She Did Not Speak. Another, If The Boy Were Hers: But She To All Their Queries Answer'D Not A Word, Which Made The Amazement More, Till One Of Them Said, Shuddering, 'Her Spectre!' But His Friend Replied, In Half A Whisper, 'Not At Least The Spectre That Will Speak If Spoken To. Terrible Pity, If One So Beautiful Prove, As I Almost Dread To Find Her, Dumb!' But Julian, Sitting By Her, Answer'D All: She Is But Dumb, Because In Her You See That Faithful Servant Whom We Spoke About, Obedient To Her Second Master Now; Which Will Not Last. I Have Here To-Night A Guest So Bound To Me By Common Love And Loss' What I Shall I Bind Him More? In His Behalf, Shall I Exceed The Persian, Giving Him That Which Of All Things Is The Dearest To Me, Not Only Showing? And He Himself Pronounced That My Rich Gift Is Wholly Mine To Give. 'Now All Be Dumb, And Promise All Of You Not To Break In On What I Say By Word Or Whisper, While I Show You All My Heart.' And Then Began The Story Of His Love As Here To-Day, But Not So Wordily' The Passionate Moment Would Not Suffer That' Past Thro' His Visions To The Burial; Thence Down To This Last Strange Hour In His Own Hall; And Then Rose Up, And With Him All His Guests Once More As By Enchantment; All But He, Lionel, Who Fain Had Risen, But Fell Again, And Sat As If In Chains'To Whom He Said: 'Take My Free Gift, My Cousin, For Your Wife; And Were It Only For The Giver'S Sake, And Tho' She Seem So Like The One You Lost, Yet Cast Her Not Away So Suddenly, Lest There Be None Left Here To Bring Her Back: I Leave This Land For Ever.' Here He Ceased. Then Taking His Dear Lady By One Hand, And Bearing On One Arm The Noble Babe, He Slowly Brought Them Both To Lionel. And There The Widower Husband And Dead Wife Rush'D Each At Each With A Cry, That Rather Seem'D For Some New Death Than For A Life Renew'D; Whereat The Very Babe Began To Wail; At Once They Turn'D, And Caught And Brought Him In To Their Charm'D Circle, And, Half Killing Him With Kisses, Round Him Closed And Claspt Again. But Lionel, When At Last He Freed Himself From Wife And Child, And Lifted Up A Face All Over Glowing With The Sun Of Life, And Love, And Boundless Thanks'The Sight Of This So Frighted Our Good Friend, That Turning To Me And Saying, 'It Is Over: Let Us Go'' There Were Our Horses Ready At The Doors' We Bad Them No Farewell, But Mounting These He Past For Ever From His Native Land; And I With Him, My Julian, Back To Mine.