A LEAVE-TAKING

WellI remember it, that night in May,That last, sweet night in the Old World long ago,The last ere my departure—the dark roomThat brooded ’round us, and the drowsy breath,Out of the courtyard, of the linden-trees,Pungent and sad. Only your hand I felt,Reached to me in the darkness; and the beatAll through its fingers of the unconscious blood,Your life at battle, in the silence toldImmortally to mine its plaintive taleAnd doom eternal—only your hand I felt,Reached to me in the darkness—yet it seemedIn your hand’s touch I touched your very self,Your very presence, changeable, careless,wild—But O how poignant—sharp with all delight,And gracious with dear bounties to bestow,How greatly granted! Drowsily then at last,In the old way, you begged me for some legendOut of my boyhood’s record, some romanceFrom the far world that bore me; and my voice,In the sweet, alien tongue, your mother-tongue,Moved through the darkness with a peaceunfeigned—For a grave peace was on us, and the fearThat thrilled the midnight, fell away. The streetSlumbered, save where, departing, like a ghost’s,Faint footfalls down the farthest distance sighed;And dwindled out forever.... So you slept.Well I remember it, that night inMay—The sleep, the hushed awakenings, full of dread,From haunted meres of horror and disdain,From dreams of terror—and the mad returnInto the bounteous pity of two arms,The comfort and the kindness. O the returnForever and forever, wild and sad,Seraphic with all weariness and pain,Insatiate with all love—as if to slakeIn one abandon all the desperate droughtOf the years to come! Upon my own I feltThe wet, salt quivering of your lips, and allYour being fold me in, urgent to save,Urgent to hide the approaching loneliness,Our bitter portion; prismed in tears, the duskSwam ’round with dizzy color: the nightingales,Beauty’s disdain above the war of things,Beauty’s high pity from her virgin heights,Our meeting hearts pierced with a singlepang—Like a bright sword of sorrow through the breastDriven, and like a bruising sword withdrawn.The sunarose—Fled were the nightingales, the love, thejoy—And with him rose at last the relentless fear,Like a harsh face never to be pushed back,Between your face and mine; till all the terror,The loneliness, the irrevocable fate,In the dim twilight hugged me, and a cry,Up frommyself toyourself, would have rentMy hesitant lips, in the great need, to youTurned for the last compassion.... But you slept.At peace you lay. Over you in the dawnI leaned, and knew you truly what you were.Then a great loveTriumphing over sorrow, like the lightClearing the west when sunset’s wrath has wanedBefore the risen stars—a mystery—welledUp through me radiant, helpless where you layIn the calm pose of sleep: and above Time,Our little passion, and the circumstanceOf temporal tumult, self to self we met;And sundered reverent.... Faintest breath of flowersStirred in the twilight fragrantly, and thereThe pathos of our days together filled meWith a new wonder—flooding on me cameA host of memories, as to one long dead,Lifted beyond his living; till all seemedMarvellous and immortal and benign.And nowThe hour was come. Beside your quiet breastI begged forgiveness for my many sinsDone to you, though unwitting—all thehurt—In a swift prayer, and even for thislast—To wake you to your sorrow. And your lipsForgave me—yes, in the silence. So I touchedYour lids with kisses. And you woke, and wept.But brave to the end with a heart-breakingbravery—Gallant and gracious, dear with sacred eyes,You let me go. With a half-kiss we parted.IIAlong the city-waysAlready day’s vehement tumult had begun:Through street and justled alley, court and square,The tireless and eternal Heart poured forthIts myriad human faces, grave or glad,On the old course of toil (a choral hymnFrom the lips of Life) each face a testimonyOf some prefiguring love. O the delight,The incredible bounty and sustaining willOf passionate longing, peopling all theearth—And the joy of man and woman! The laughing boys!The milkman clanking along in his cart, and thereTwo bonneted old women, and there a thief,Perhaps, with a night’s booty sneaking home!Yet solemn all and sacred, with new eyesI saw them then, and in each face I seemedWith a new soul to read the soul beneath;Through love and pain and sorrow having passedInto the breast of allhumanity—Through love and sorrow. Yes, and for your sake,Being human, all things human touched to loveThis heart of mine, made holy; and the thoughtOf the million other hearts beyond thedawn—The gladness, and the sadness, and thepain—Came back upon me like a lifting music,Beautiful, and most sorrowful, and divine.Till a vast compassionUp through the springs of all my being welledIntolerably! Ah, even as to myself,Unfaithful, the exuberant Bounty stoopedWith arms of pity; so I longed todo—To lose myself at last in the Great SelfThat beams upon the just and the unjust,Carelessly shedding radiant light around:Compassing finite hate with infinite love,With beauty, ugliness, and death with life!So through that street of pouring souls I passed,Torn between grief and ecstasy. But noneGuessed the immortal secret that I boreClose at the fluttering heart—the fear—thejoy—The very beat and memory in my blood,The exquisite sense and lingering pain of you.

WellI remember it, that night in May,

That last, sweet night in the Old World long ago,

The last ere my departure—the dark room

That brooded ’round us, and the drowsy breath,

Out of the courtyard, of the linden-trees,

Pungent and sad. Only your hand I felt,

Reached to me in the darkness; and the beat

All through its fingers of the unconscious blood,

Your life at battle, in the silence told

Immortally to mine its plaintive tale

And doom eternal—only your hand I felt,

Reached to me in the darkness—yet it seemed

In your hand’s touch I touched your very self,

Your very presence, changeable, careless,wild—

But O how poignant—sharp with all delight,

And gracious with dear bounties to bestow,

How greatly granted! Drowsily then at last,

In the old way, you begged me for some legend

Out of my boyhood’s record, some romance

From the far world that bore me; and my voice,

In the sweet, alien tongue, your mother-tongue,

Moved through the darkness with a peaceunfeigned—

For a grave peace was on us, and the fear

That thrilled the midnight, fell away. The street

Slumbered, save where, departing, like a ghost’s,

Faint footfalls down the farthest distance sighed;

And dwindled out forever.... So you slept.

Well I remember it, that night inMay—The sleep, the hushed awakenings, full of dread,From haunted meres of horror and disdain,From dreams of terror—and the mad returnInto the bounteous pity of two arms,The comfort and the kindness. O the returnForever and forever, wild and sad,Seraphic with all weariness and pain,Insatiate with all love—as if to slakeIn one abandon all the desperate droughtOf the years to come! Upon my own I feltThe wet, salt quivering of your lips, and allYour being fold me in, urgent to save,Urgent to hide the approaching loneliness,Our bitter portion; prismed in tears, the duskSwam ’round with dizzy color: the nightingales,Beauty’s disdain above the war of things,Beauty’s high pity from her virgin heights,Our meeting hearts pierced with a singlepang—Like a bright sword of sorrow through the breastDriven, and like a bruising sword withdrawn.

Well I remember it, that night inMay—

The sleep, the hushed awakenings, full of dread,

From haunted meres of horror and disdain,

From dreams of terror—and the mad return

Into the bounteous pity of two arms,

The comfort and the kindness. O the return

Forever and forever, wild and sad,

Seraphic with all weariness and pain,

Insatiate with all love—as if to slake

In one abandon all the desperate drought

Of the years to come! Upon my own I felt

The wet, salt quivering of your lips, and all

Your being fold me in, urgent to save,

Urgent to hide the approaching loneliness,

Our bitter portion; prismed in tears, the dusk

Swam ’round with dizzy color: the nightingales,

Beauty’s disdain above the war of things,

Beauty’s high pity from her virgin heights,

Our meeting hearts pierced with a singlepang—

Like a bright sword of sorrow through the breast

Driven, and like a bruising sword withdrawn.

The sunarose—Fled were the nightingales, the love, thejoy—And with him rose at last the relentless fear,Like a harsh face never to be pushed back,Between your face and mine; till all the terror,The loneliness, the irrevocable fate,In the dim twilight hugged me, and a cry,Up frommyself toyourself, would have rentMy hesitant lips, in the great need, to youTurned for the last compassion.... But you slept.At peace you lay. Over you in the dawnI leaned, and knew you truly what you were.

The sunarose—

Fled were the nightingales, the love, thejoy—

And with him rose at last the relentless fear,

Like a harsh face never to be pushed back,

Between your face and mine; till all the terror,

The loneliness, the irrevocable fate,

In the dim twilight hugged me, and a cry,

Up frommyself toyourself, would have rent

My hesitant lips, in the great need, to you

Turned for the last compassion.... But you slept.

At peace you lay. Over you in the dawn

I leaned, and knew you truly what you were.

Then a great loveTriumphing over sorrow, like the lightClearing the west when sunset’s wrath has wanedBefore the risen stars—a mystery—welledUp through me radiant, helpless where you layIn the calm pose of sleep: and above Time,Our little passion, and the circumstanceOf temporal tumult, self to self we met;And sundered reverent.... Faintest breath of flowersStirred in the twilight fragrantly, and thereThe pathos of our days together filled meWith a new wonder—flooding on me cameA host of memories, as to one long dead,Lifted beyond his living; till all seemedMarvellous and immortal and benign.

Then a great love

Triumphing over sorrow, like the light

Clearing the west when sunset’s wrath has waned

Before the risen stars—a mystery—welled

Up through me radiant, helpless where you lay

In the calm pose of sleep: and above Time,

Our little passion, and the circumstance

Of temporal tumult, self to self we met;

And sundered reverent.... Faintest breath of flowers

Stirred in the twilight fragrantly, and there

The pathos of our days together filled me

With a new wonder—flooding on me came

A host of memories, as to one long dead,

Lifted beyond his living; till all seemed

Marvellous and immortal and benign.

And nowThe hour was come. Beside your quiet breastI begged forgiveness for my many sinsDone to you, though unwitting—all thehurt—In a swift prayer, and even for thislast—To wake you to your sorrow. And your lipsForgave me—yes, in the silence. So I touchedYour lids with kisses. And you woke, and wept.

And now

The hour was come. Beside your quiet breast

I begged forgiveness for my many sins

Done to you, though unwitting—all thehurt—

In a swift prayer, and even for thislast—

To wake you to your sorrow. And your lips

Forgave me—yes, in the silence. So I touched

Your lids with kisses. And you woke, and wept.

But brave to the end with a heart-breakingbravery—Gallant and gracious, dear with sacred eyes,You let me go. With a half-kiss we parted.

But brave to the end with a heart-breakingbravery—

Gallant and gracious, dear with sacred eyes,

You let me go. With a half-kiss we parted.

Along the city-waysAlready day’s vehement tumult had begun:Through street and justled alley, court and square,The tireless and eternal Heart poured forthIts myriad human faces, grave or glad,On the old course of toil (a choral hymnFrom the lips of Life) each face a testimonyOf some prefiguring love. O the delight,The incredible bounty and sustaining willOf passionate longing, peopling all theearth—And the joy of man and woman! The laughing boys!The milkman clanking along in his cart, and thereTwo bonneted old women, and there a thief,Perhaps, with a night’s booty sneaking home!Yet solemn all and sacred, with new eyesI saw them then, and in each face I seemedWith a new soul to read the soul beneath;Through love and pain and sorrow having passedInto the breast of allhumanity—Through love and sorrow. Yes, and for your sake,Being human, all things human touched to loveThis heart of mine, made holy; and the thoughtOf the million other hearts beyond thedawn—The gladness, and the sadness, and thepain—Came back upon me like a lifting music,Beautiful, and most sorrowful, and divine.

Along the city-ways

Already day’s vehement tumult had begun:

Through street and justled alley, court and square,

The tireless and eternal Heart poured forth

Its myriad human faces, grave or glad,

On the old course of toil (a choral hymn

From the lips of Life) each face a testimony

Of some prefiguring love. O the delight,

The incredible bounty and sustaining will

Of passionate longing, peopling all theearth—

And the joy of man and woman! The laughing boys!

The milkman clanking along in his cart, and there

Two bonneted old women, and there a thief,

Perhaps, with a night’s booty sneaking home!

Yet solemn all and sacred, with new eyes

I saw them then, and in each face I seemed

With a new soul to read the soul beneath;

Through love and pain and sorrow having passed

Into the breast of allhumanity—

Through love and sorrow. Yes, and for your sake,

Being human, all things human touched to love

This heart of mine, made holy; and the thought

Of the million other hearts beyond thedawn—

The gladness, and the sadness, and thepain—

Came back upon me like a lifting music,

Beautiful, and most sorrowful, and divine.

Till a vast compassionUp through the springs of all my being welledIntolerably! Ah, even as to myself,Unfaithful, the exuberant Bounty stoopedWith arms of pity; so I longed todo—To lose myself at last in the Great SelfThat beams upon the just and the unjust,Carelessly shedding radiant light around:Compassing finite hate with infinite love,With beauty, ugliness, and death with life!

Till a vast compassion

Up through the springs of all my being welled

Intolerably! Ah, even as to myself,

Unfaithful, the exuberant Bounty stooped

With arms of pity; so I longed todo—

To lose myself at last in the Great Self

That beams upon the just and the unjust,

Carelessly shedding radiant light around:

Compassing finite hate with infinite love,

With beauty, ugliness, and death with life!

So through that street of pouring souls I passed,Torn between grief and ecstasy. But noneGuessed the immortal secret that I boreClose at the fluttering heart—the fear—thejoy—The very beat and memory in my blood,The exquisite sense and lingering pain of you.

So through that street of pouring souls I passed,

Torn between grief and ecstasy. But none

Guessed the immortal secret that I bore

Close at the fluttering heart—the fear—thejoy—

The very beat and memory in my blood,

The exquisite sense and lingering pain of you.

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