156
LADY GERALDINE'S COURTSHIP.
I plucked up her social fictions, bloody-rooted, though leaf-verdant,—
Trod them down with words of shaming,—all the purples and the gold,
And the "landed stakes" and Lordships—all that spirits pure and ardent
Are cast out of love and reverence, because chancing not to hold.
Trod them down with words of shaming,—all the purples and the gold,
And the "landed stakes" and Lordships—all that spirits pure and ardent
Are cast out of love and reverence, because chancing not to hold.
"For myself I do not argue," said I, "though I love you, Madam,
But for better souls, that nearer to the height of yours have trod—
And this age shows, to my thinking, still more infidels to Adam,
Than directly, by profession, simple infidels to God.
But for better souls, that nearer to the height of yours have trod—
And this age shows, to my thinking, still more infidels to Adam,
Than directly, by profession, simple infidels to God.
"Yet, O God" (I said), "O grave" (I said), "O mother's heart and bosom,
With whom first and last are equal, saint and corpse and little child!
We are fools to your deductions, in these figments of heartclosing!
We are traitors to your causes, in these sympathies defiled!
With whom first and last are equal, saint and corpse and little child!
We are fools to your deductions, in these figments of heartclosing!
We are traitors to your causes, in these sympathies defiled!
"Learn more reverence, Madam, not for rank or wealth—that needs no learning;
That comes quickly—quick as sin does! ay, and often works to sin;
But for Adam's seed, man! Trust me, 'tis a clay above your scorning,
With God's image stamped upon it, and God's kindling breath within.
That comes quickly—quick as sin does! ay, and often works to sin;
But for Adam's seed, man! Trust me, 'tis a clay above your scorning,
With God's image stamped upon it, and God's kindling breath within.
"What right have you, Madam, gazing in your shining mirror daily,
Getting, so, by heart, your beauty, which all others must adore,—
Getting, so, by heart, your beauty, which all others must adore,—
