Prince Amadis: 51ÔÇô60

LI.

He felt all at once viewless arms were around him;
Flesh and blood had no sinews like those that now bound him;
He felt hands within him, — then all things gave way,
His soul lay down and fluttered in extatic dismay.

LII.

His heart turned to stone; a strange panic had chilled him;
His old life died out, as this new terror filled him;
He felt as if through some ordeal he was winning
His way to some grand but terrific beginning.

LIII.

He was colder than ice, with an inward cold pain,
And his blood left his heart, and encircled his brain;
Man's life was unmade in him, crossed by new sections,
With mind for a centre instead of affections.

LIV.

We are plants, we are beasts, we are metals, and earth,
And the life of the stars too went in us at birth;
We are all things in one thing, life's manifold flame
Chaos gave us, when out of its bosom we came.

LV.

So now in Prince Amadis, down in his being,
The plant to the plant-life was evermore fleeing,
The beasts to the beast-life; star, metal, and gem
Paired off with the inner life suited to them.

LVI.

And now they flowed into him, now they flowed out,
And mingled and circled and wavered about;
One life now repelled, now invited another,
But the pulses that beat in them answered each other.

LVII.

New unity too did his nature discover;
He had but one sense, he was eye-sight all over:
He saw tastes, he saw touches, strange mortal was he!
He saw sounds, he saw scents, — he did nothing but see!

LVIII.

He had sympathies too, but not after man's fashion;
He loved, but his love was a cold shiny passion:
Father-love, sister-love, all were effaced.
And all his old home-idols rudely displaced.

LIX.

In spite of himself his whole being must hasten
Its affections on wholly new objects to fasten;
He must speak a new language which nature will teach,
But a many-tongued silentness now must be speech.

LX.

Darkness was to him what sorrow had been,
And light was his joy, with its smiles of white sheen;
And color was pathos, and sympathy flowers,
And his homes were unnumbered, — all beautiful bowers.
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