Victrice
We walked where the grass was a checker
Of the light and the leaves of May,
When the Night in her white shroud of moonshine
Was the beautiful ghost of Day.
The presence that thrilled me with passion,
There under the moon and the shade,
Was a fond being, meek in her beauty,
Half seraph and half loving maid.
Her voice had the sorrowful cadence
Of winds of the night in the pine;
And her soul, like the mild moon of heaven,
Shone forth from her sad eyes to mine.
We had come unto where the world ended;
For out of the being of men
And into the bliss of angels
We had died and were born again.
Deep we drank of love's river Lethean,
Till the moon in the west grew white
And along the gray shore of morning
Broke the first purple billows of light.
As the inswelling floodtide of sunrise
Rose over pale Lucifer's gleam,
She saw in the drowned star the symbol
Of the end of our earthly dream.
She knew — and, O God! to remember
How she told me this with her eyes! —
That she never again should behold me
Till she met my soul in the skies.
O the pain and the passion of parting!
For she knew that I needs must go,
Nor return till the year were dying
And she lying under the snow.
O the pang and the anguish of parting!
When she saw, and I could not see,
Saw the seraphim signaling to her,
And her woman's-love hid it from me.
She loved me too dearly to slay me
With the tidings her heart had heard;
And sadly she blessed me and kissed me,
But said me no saddening word.
Sainted martyr of passion and victrice!
How to memory now thou showst,
In love like the dying Redeemer,
In peace like the Holy Ghost!
Didst thou hope I could bear it the better,
Not to see thy beauty decline —
Not to have the gall and wormwood
Of memory mixed with the wine?
Bear it better! sweet sister of Jesus!
When the sorrow of all the race,
The sorrow of loving and dying,
I remember was in thy face!
O the shock, and the fever and madness!
When my soul, into darkness withdrawn,
Felt only those eyes in the moonlight,
Saw only that face in the dawn!
But I came back to life and endured it;
I said, I will bear my breath:
Surely, I should bear love and remembrance,
Since she has borne love and death.
Of the light and the leaves of May,
When the Night in her white shroud of moonshine
Was the beautiful ghost of Day.
The presence that thrilled me with passion,
There under the moon and the shade,
Was a fond being, meek in her beauty,
Half seraph and half loving maid.
Her voice had the sorrowful cadence
Of winds of the night in the pine;
And her soul, like the mild moon of heaven,
Shone forth from her sad eyes to mine.
We had come unto where the world ended;
For out of the being of men
And into the bliss of angels
We had died and were born again.
Deep we drank of love's river Lethean,
Till the moon in the west grew white
And along the gray shore of morning
Broke the first purple billows of light.
As the inswelling floodtide of sunrise
Rose over pale Lucifer's gleam,
She saw in the drowned star the symbol
Of the end of our earthly dream.
She knew — and, O God! to remember
How she told me this with her eyes! —
That she never again should behold me
Till she met my soul in the skies.
O the pain and the passion of parting!
For she knew that I needs must go,
Nor return till the year were dying
And she lying under the snow.
O the pang and the anguish of parting!
When she saw, and I could not see,
Saw the seraphim signaling to her,
And her woman's-love hid it from me.
She loved me too dearly to slay me
With the tidings her heart had heard;
And sadly she blessed me and kissed me,
But said me no saddening word.
Sainted martyr of passion and victrice!
How to memory now thou showst,
In love like the dying Redeemer,
In peace like the Holy Ghost!
Didst thou hope I could bear it the better,
Not to see thy beauty decline —
Not to have the gall and wormwood
Of memory mixed with the wine?
Bear it better! sweet sister of Jesus!
When the sorrow of all the race,
The sorrow of loving and dying,
I remember was in thy face!
O the shock, and the fever and madness!
When my soul, into darkness withdrawn,
Felt only those eyes in the moonlight,
Saw only that face in the dawn!
But I came back to life and endured it;
I said, I will bear my breath:
Surely, I should bear love and remembrance,
Since she has borne love and death.
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