Prometheus Bound, and other poems/Confessions

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

CONFESSIONS.

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I.

FACE to face in my chamber, my silent chamber,
I saw her!
God and she and I only, . . there, I sate down to
draw her
Soul, through the clefts of confession. . . Speak, I
am holding thee fast,
As the angels of resurrection shall do it at the last.
"My cup is blood-red
With my sin," she said,
"And I pour it out to the bitter lees,
As if the angels of judgment stood over me strong
at the last,
Or as thou wert as these!"

II.

When God smote His hands together, and struck
out thy soul as a spark,
Into the organised glory of things, from deeps of
the dark,—
Say, didst thou shine, didst thou burn, didst thou
honour the power in the form,
As the star does at night, or the fire-fly, or even the
little ground-worm?
"I have sinned," she said,
"For my seed-light shed
Has smouldered away from His first decrees!
The cypress praiseth the fire-fly, the ground-leaf
praiseth the worm:
I am viler than these!"

III.

When God on that sin had pity, and did not
trample thee straight,
With His wild rains beating and drenching thy
light found inadequate;
When He only sent thee the north-winds, a little
searching and chill,
To quicken thy flame . . didst thou kindle and flash
to the heights of His will?
"I have sinned," she said,
"Unquickened, unspread,
My fire dropt down; and I wept on my knees!
I only said of His winds of the north, as I shrank
from their chill, . .
What delight is in these?"

IV.

When God on that sin had pity, and did not meet
it as such,
But tempered the wind to thy uses, and softened
the world to thy touch;
At least thou wast moved in thy soul, though un-
able to prove it afar,
Thou couldst carry thy light like a jewel, not giving
it like a star?
"I have sinned," she said,
"And not merited
The gift He gives, by the grace He sees!
The mine-cave praiseth the jewel, the hill-side
praiseth the star:—
I am viler than these."

V.

Then I cried aloud in my passion, . . unthankful and
impotent creature,
To throw up thy scorn unto God, through the rents
in thy nature!
If He, the all-giving and loving, is served so, what
then
Hast thou done to the weak and the changing, . .
thy fellows of men?
"I have loved," she said,
(Words bowing her head
As the wind bows the wet acacia-trees!)
"I saw God sitting above me,—but I . . I sate
among men,
And I have loved these."

VI.

Again with a lifted voice, . . like a trumpet that
takes
The low note of a viol that trembles, and triumph-
ing breaks
On the air with it, solemn and clear. . "I have
sinned not in this!
Where I loved, I have loved much and well,—I
have loved not amiss.
Let the living," she said,
"Inquire of the Dead,
In the house of the pale-faced Images,—
And my own true Dead will answer for me, that I
have not loved amiss,
In my love for all these.

VII.

"The least touch of their hands in the morning, I
keep day and night:
Their least step on the stair, still throbs through
me, if ever so light:
Their least gift, which they left to my childhood, in
long ago years,
Is now turned from a toy to a relic, and gazed at
through tears.
Dig the snow," she said,
"For my churchyard bed;
Yet I, as I sleep, shall not fear to freeze,
If but one of these love me with heart-warm tears,
As I have loved these!

VIII.

"If I have angered any among them, my own life
was sore;
If I fell from their presence, I clung to their memory
more:
Their tender I often felt holy, their bitter I some-
times called sweet;
And whenever their heart has refused me, I fell
down straight at their feet.
I have loved," she said,—
"Man is weak, God is dread;
Yet the weakest man dies with his spirit at
ease,
Having poured such love-oil on the Saviour's feet,
As I lavished for these."

IX.

Go, I cried, thou hast chosen the Human, and left
the Divine!
Then, at least, have the Human shared with thee,
their wild berry-wine?
Have they loved back thy love, and when strangers
approached thee with blame,
Have they covered thy fault with their kisses, and
loved thee the same?
But she wept and said,
"God, over my head,
Will sweep in the wrath of His judgment seas,
If He deal with me sinning, but only the same
And not gentler than these!"