Mandragora/The Monk
- THE MONK
OUT of our Lady's cloister torn,
I swept like a hunted flame,
Over valleys and hills forlorn
To a leafy wood where in shades are born
Mosses without a name.
And there I found — poor monk that I was —
My curse, my fate, my spell —
Lightly she leaped from the leafy grass
With a sigh like a vesper-bell.
And her eyes to me had the strange soft look
Of the "Introibo" signs
In my illumined Missal-book,
Where the "Sursum Corda" begins.
O God! I loved her from my heart;
And a little she loved me!
And day and night she led me apart
Where the flickering sunbeams gleam and dart
In the mid-wood's mystery.
Her childish movements, her broken words,
They were my only beads.
For choir we had the twittering birds,
For candles the moonlit reeds.
O God! I loved her from my heart,
And a little she loved me!
And to watch her laughter flicker and dart
And the rose in her cheeks come and depart,
Were the prayers of my breviary.
But alas for the monk from his cloister strayed!
Cold in that very place
Where the hyacinths grew in leafiest shade
And my Love's head by my side was laid
I saw our Lady's face.
And all night now and all day too,
I tremble those twain between;
And I hate the sky for its holy blue
And the earth for its heathen green.
I have lost my love because of my heaven
And my heaven because of my love.
Is there no mercy ever given
To him that two faiths move?
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1963, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 60 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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