Bells and Pomegranates, First Series/Madhouse Cells
MADHOUSE CELLS.
i.There's Heaven above, and night by night,I look right through its gorgeous roof;No suns and moons though e'er so brightAvail to stop me; splendour-proofI keep the broods of stars aloof;For I intend to get to God,For 'tis to God I speed so fast,For in God's breast, my own abode,Those shoals of dazzling glory past,I lay my spirit down at last.I lie where I have always lain,God smiles as he has always smiled;Ere suns and moons could wax and wane,Ere stars were thundergirt, or piledThe Heavens, God thought on me his child,Ordained a life for me, arrayedIts circumstances, every oneTo the minutest; ay, God saidThis head this hand should rest uponThus, ere he fashioned star or sun.And having thus created me,Thus rooted me, he bade me growGuiltless for ever, like a treeThat buds and blooms, nor seeks to knowA law by which it prospers so:But sure that thought and word and deedAll go to swell his love for me,Me made because that love had need Of something irrevocablyPledged solely its content to be.Yes, yes, a tree which must ascend,No poison-gourd foredoomed to stoop!I have God's warrant, could I blendAll hideous sins, as in a cup,To drink the mingled venoms up,Secure my nature will convertThe draught to blossoming gladness fast,While sweet dews turn to the gourd's hurt,And bloat, and while they bloat it, blast,As from the first its lot was cast.For as I lie, smiled on, full fedBy exhausted power to bless,I gaze below on Hell's fierce bed,And those its waves of flame oppress,Swarming in ghastly wretchedness,Whose life on earth aspired to beOne altar-smoke, so pure!—to winIf not love like God's love to me,At least to keep his anger in,And all their striving turned Lo sin!Priest, doctor, hermit, monk grown whiteWith prayer, the broken-hearted nun,The martyr, the wan acolyte,The incense-swinging child,—undoneBefore God fashioned star or sun!God, whom I praise; how could I praiseIf such as I might understand,Make out, and reckon on, his ways,And bargain for his love, and stand,Paying a price, at his right hand?
ii.The rain set early in to-night,The sullen wind was soon awake,It tore the elm-tops down for spite,And did its worst to vex the lake,I listened with heart fit to break,When glided in Porphyria: straightShe shut the cold out and the storm,And kneeled and made the cheerless grateBlaze up, and all the cottage warm;Which done, she rose, and from her formWithdrew the dripping cloak and shawl,And laid her soiled gloves by, untiedHer hat and let the damp hair fall,And, last, she sate down by my sideAnd called me. When no voice replied,She put my arm about her waist,And made her smooth white shoulder bare,And all her yellow hair displaced,And, stooping, made my cheek lie there,And spread o'er all her yellow hair,Murmuring how she loved me; sheToo weak, for all her heart's endeavour,To set its struggling passion freeFrom pride, and vainer ties dissever,And give herself to me for ever:But passion sometimes would prevail,Nor could to-night's gay feast restrainA sudden thought of one so paleFor love of her, and all in vain;And she was come through wind and rain.Be sure I looked up at her eyes Proud, very proud; at last I knewPorphyria worshipped me; surpriseMade my heart swell, and still it grewWhile I debated what to do.That moment she was mine, mine, fair,Perfectly pure and good: I foundA thing to do, and all her hairIn one long yellow string I woundThree times her little throat around,And strangled her. No pain felt she:I am quite sure she felt no pain.As a shut bud that holds a beeI warily oped her lids; againLaughed the blue eyes without a stain.And I untightened next the tressAbout her neck; her cheek once moreBlushed bright beneath my burning kiss:I propped her head up as before,Only, this time my shoulder boreHer head, which droops upon it still:The smiling rosy little head,So glad it has its utmost will,That all it scorned at once is fled,And I, its love, am gained instead!Porphyria's love: she guessed not howHer darling one wish would be heard.And thus we sit together now,And all night long we have not stirred,And yet God has not said a word!