Poems (Forrest)/The virgin soul
THE VIRGIN SOUL
Body yours? Perhaps it is, fettered by some strange convention
That has labelled me and numbered me, who never should be labelled!
Soul and mind so much my own—I laugh to see them jaunting
Baggage-free, along the paths, where the lilies flaunting
Burn the morn with tiger spots: and with pollen showers,
Merrily go fancy's steeds who never have been stabled,
Trampling all the privet hedge and browsing on the flowers.
That has labelled me and numbered me, who never should be labelled!
Soul and mind so much my own—I laugh to see them jaunting
Baggage-free, along the paths, where the lilies flaunting
Burn the morn with tiger spots: and with pollen showers,
Merrily go fancy's steeds who never have been stabled,
Trampling all the privet hedge and browsing on the flowers.
Body yours if thus you will, by Man's queer invention
Of a law to bind a love, which never could be bound.
Do you kiss a corpse and find a semblance to the living?
Outraged spirit in my bosom such a travesty forgiving
Just because I fear to hurt you by the bitter truth revealing
When you seem to be contented with the flaccid thing you've found—
Fondle husks left in your keeping, while the rebel soul is stealing
Of a law to bind a love, which never could be bound.
Do you kiss a corpse and find a semblance to the living?
Outraged spirit in my bosom such a travesty forgiving
Just because I fear to hurt you by the bitter truth revealing
When you seem to be contented with the flaccid thing you've found—
Fondle husks left in your keeping, while the rebel soul is stealing
Through your fingers and away, to its own, its unwalled places,
Rising on the flights of birds and dipping lightly to the valleys,
Drinking at the fount of fragrance, one with plumy waving grasses,
One with those soft splendid shadows where the windblown cloud-pack passes
Down to gardens where the moon-flower checks the white hours of her leasing
And the sun-flower on her petals keeps the warm day's gilded tallies,
Moon and Sun's devoted minions, with a rivalry unceasing!
Rising on the flights of birds and dipping lightly to the valleys,
Drinking at the fount of fragrance, one with plumy waving grasses,
One with those soft splendid shadows where the windblown cloud-pack passes
Down to gardens where the moon-flower checks the white hours of her leasing
And the sun-flower on her petals keeps the warm day's gilded tallies,
Moon and Sun's devoted minions, with a rivalry unceasing!
Men can seek a hand's caressing, or the touch of women's faces,
And the bargain may assuage them-if this be the thing they need!
Only in my outer garden may you stand with lust-shod feet:
I have kept the inner chamber for another cool and sweet,
And a flaming sword shall guard it, tireless, till that other come-
Take my hand and lips and slake you: so I keep the word and deed,
But my soul is always mateless till that other soul comes home!
And the bargain may assuage them-if this be the thing they need!
Only in my outer garden may you stand with lust-shod feet:
I have kept the inner chamber for another cool and sweet,
And a flaming sword shall guard it, tireless, till that other come-
Take my hand and lips and slake you: so I keep the word and deed,
But my soul is always mateless till that other soul comes home!