Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/106

92 Though I could hold him fast with heavy chains, Bound in perpetual imprisonment. Tell me my vision was a baseless dream; See, I am kneeling, and I kiss thy hands,— In pity, look on me, before thy word Condemns me to immortal misery! &quot; As he looked down, the infernal influence Worked on his soul again ; for she was fair Beyond imagination, and her brow Seemed luminous with high self-sacrifice. He bent and kissed her head, warm, shining, soft, With its close-curling gold, and love revived. But ere he spoke, he heard the distant sound Of one sweet, smitten lyre, and a gleam Of violent anger flashed across the face Upraised to his in feigned simplicity And singleness of purpose. Then he sprang, Well-nigh a god himself, with sudden strength To vanquish and resist, beyond her reach, Crying, &quot; My old Muse calls me, and I hear ! Thy fateful vision is no baseless dream ; I will be gone from this accursed hall ! &quot; Then she, too, rose, dilating over him, And sullen clouds veiled all her rosy limbs, Unto her girdle, and her head appeared Refulgent, and her voice rang wrathf Lilly : &quot; Have I cajoled and flattered thee till now, To lose thee thus ! How wilt thou make escape ? Once being mine, thou art forever mine : Yea, not my lo,ve, but my poor slave and fool.&quot;