Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/116

88 One round her neck brave arms of empire threw

And covered her with kisses where she lay;

The other sat apart, nor did betray

Sweet sorrow at that sight; but rather drew

His pleasure of his lady through the soul

And sense of this one. So there truly ran

Two separate loves through one embrace; the whole

This lady had of both, when one began

To clasp her close, and win her dear lips' goal.

Now read my lovers' riddle if you can.

THE DARK ROOM

(A PARABLE)

I

sought her love in a dark room,—

So early had she yearned from yearning sleep,

So hard it was from her true love to keep,—

And blind she went through that all-silent gloom,

Like one who wanders weeping in a tomb.

Heavy her heart, but her light fingers leap

With restless grasp and question in that deep

Unanswering void. Now when a hand did loom

At last, how swift her warm impassioned face

Prest 'gainst the black and solemn-yielding air,

As near more near she groped to that bright place,

And seized the hand, and drowned it with her hair,

And bent her body to his fierce embrace,

And knew what joy was in the darkness there.

II

Great God! the arms wherein that maiden fell

Were not her lover's; I am her lover—I,