Page:The children of the night.djvu/79

 When I was the king of the earth. Then slowly— And yet so swiftly!—there came the knowledge That the marvellous life I had lived was my life; That the glorious world I had loved was my world; And that every man, and every woman, And every child was a different being, Wrought with a different heat, and fired With passions born of a single spirit; That the pleasure I felt was not their pleasure, Nor my sorrow—a kind of nameless pity For something, I knew not what—their sorrow. And thus was I taught my first hard lesson,— The lesson we suffer the most in learning: That a happy man is a man forgetful Of all the torturing ills around him. When or where I first met the woman I cherished and made my wife, no matter. Enough to say that I found her and kept her Here in my heart with as pure a devotion As ever Christ felt for his brothers. Forgive me For naming His name in your patient presence; But I feel my words, and the truth I utter Is God's own truth. I loved that woman,— Not for her face, but for something fairer, Something diviner, I thought, than beauty: I loved the spirit—the human something That seemed to chime with my own condition, And make soul-music when we were together;