THE MONOLOGUE
ALAS, O Lovely One,Imprisoned here,I tap; thou answerest not,I doubt, and fear.Yet transparent as glass these walls,If thou lean near.Last dusk, at those high barsThere came, scarce-heard,Claws, fluttering feathers,Of deluded bird—With one shrill, scared, faint noteThe silence stirred.Rests in that corner,In puff of dust, a straw—Vision of harvest-fieldsI never saw,Of strange green streams and hills,Forbidden by law.These things I whisper,For I see—in mind—Thy caged cheek whitenAt the wail of wind,That thin breast wasting; untoWoe resigned.Take comfort, listen!Once we twain were free;There was a Country—Lost the memory ...Lay thy cold brow on hand,And dream with me.Awaits me torture,I have smelt their rack;From spectral groaning wheelHave turned me back;Thumbscrew and boot, and then—The yawning sack.Lean closer, then;Lay palm on stony wall.Let but thy ghost beneathThine eyelids call:'Courage, my brother,' NoughtCan then appal.Yet coward, coward am I,And drink I mustWhen clanks the pannikinWith the longed-for crust;Though heart within is sourWith disgust.Long hours there are,When mutely tapping—well,Is it to VacancyI these tidings tell?Knock these numb fingers againstAn empty cell?Nay, answer not.Let still mere longing makeThy presence sure to me,While in doubt I shake:Be but my Faith in thee,For sanity's sake.
ALAS, O Lovely One,Imprisoned here,I tap; thou answerest not,I doubt, and fear.Yet transparent as glass these walls,If thou lean near.Last dusk, at those high barsThere came, scarce-heard,Claws, fluttering feathers,Of deluded bird—With one shrill, scared, faint noteThe silence stirred.Rests in that corner,In puff of dust, a straw—Vision of harvest-fieldsI never saw,Of strange green streams and hills,Forbidden by law.These things I whisper,For I see—in mind—Thy caged cheek whitenAt the wail of wind,That thin breast wasting; untoWoe resigned.Take comfort, listen!Once we twain were free;There was a Country—Lost the memory ...Lay thy cold brow on hand,And dream with me.Awaits me torture,I have smelt their rack;From spectral groaning wheelHave turned me back;Thumbscrew and boot, and then—The yawning sack.Lean closer, then;Lay palm on stony wall.Let but thy ghost beneathThine eyelids call:'Courage, my brother,' NoughtCan then appal.Yet coward, coward am I,And drink I mustWhen clanks the pannikinWith the longed-for crust;Though heart within is sourWith disgust.Long hours there are,When mutely tapping—well,Is it to VacancyI these tidings tell?Knock these numb fingers againstAn empty cell?Nay, answer not.Let still mere longing makeThy presence sure to me,While in doubt I shake:Be but my Faith in thee,For sanity's sake.
ALAS, O Lovely One,Imprisoned here,I tap; thou answerest not,I doubt, and fear.Yet transparent as glass these walls,If thou lean near.
ALAS, O Lovely One,
Imprisoned here,
I tap; thou answerest not,
I doubt, and fear.
Yet transparent as glass these walls,
If thou lean near.
Last dusk, at those high barsThere came, scarce-heard,Claws, fluttering feathers,Of deluded bird—With one shrill, scared, faint noteThe silence stirred.
Last dusk, at those high bars
There came, scarce-heard,
Claws, fluttering feathers,
Of deluded bird—
With one shrill, scared, faint note
The silence stirred.
Rests in that corner,In puff of dust, a straw—Vision of harvest-fieldsI never saw,Of strange green streams and hills,Forbidden by law.
Rests in that corner,
In puff of dust, a straw—
Vision of harvest-fields
I never saw,
Of strange green streams and hills,
Forbidden by law.
These things I whisper,For I see—in mind—Thy caged cheek whitenAt the wail of wind,That thin breast wasting; untoWoe resigned.
These things I whisper,
For I see—in mind—
Thy caged cheek whiten
At the wail of wind,
That thin breast wasting; unto
Woe resigned.
Take comfort, listen!Once we twain were free;There was a Country—Lost the memory ...Lay thy cold brow on hand,And dream with me.
Take comfort, listen!
Once we twain were free;
There was a Country—
Lost the memory ...
Lay thy cold brow on hand,
And dream with me.
Awaits me torture,I have smelt their rack;From spectral groaning wheelHave turned me back;Thumbscrew and boot, and then—The yawning sack.
Awaits me torture,
I have smelt their rack;
From spectral groaning wheel
Have turned me back;
Thumbscrew and boot, and then—
The yawning sack.
Lean closer, then;Lay palm on stony wall.Let but thy ghost beneathThine eyelids call:'Courage, my brother,' NoughtCan then appal.
Lean closer, then;
Lay palm on stony wall.
Let but thy ghost beneath
Thine eyelids call:
'Courage, my brother,' Nought
Can then appal.
Yet coward, coward am I,And drink I mustWhen clanks the pannikinWith the longed-for crust;Though heart within is sourWith disgust.
Yet coward, coward am I,
And drink I must
When clanks the pannikin
With the longed-for crust;
Though heart within is sour
With disgust.
Long hours there are,When mutely tapping—well,Is it to VacancyI these tidings tell?Knock these numb fingers againstAn empty cell?
Long hours there are,
When mutely tapping—well,
Is it to Vacancy
I these tidings tell?
Knock these numb fingers against
An empty cell?
Nay, answer not.Let still mere longing makeThy presence sure to me,While in doubt I shake:Be but my Faith in thee,For sanity's sake.
Nay, answer not.
Let still mere longing make
Thy presence sure to me,
While in doubt I shake:
Be but my Faith in thee,
For sanity's sake.