Page:The torrent and The night before.djvu/47

 Like gods outflung from chaos, dreaming That we were the king and the queen of the fire That reddened the clouds of love that held us Blind to the new world soon to be ours— Ours to seize and sway. The passion Of that great love was a nameless passion— Bright as the blaze of the sun at noonday, Wild as the flames of hell; but, mark you, Never a whit less pure for its fervor. The baseness in me (for I was human) Burned like a worm, and perished; and nothing Was left me then but a soul that mingled Itself with hers, and swayed and shuddered In fearful triumph.—When I consider That helpless love and the cursed folly That wrecked my life for the sake of a woman, Who broke with a laugh the chains of her marriage (Whatever the word may mean) I wonder If all the woe was her sin, or whether The chains themselves were enough to lead her In love's despite to break them. Sinners And saints—I say—are rocked in the cradle, But never are known till the will within them Speaks in its own good time,—So I foster Even to-night for the woman who wronged me Nothing of hate, nor of love, but a feeling Of still regret.—For the man But hear me, And judge for yourself:—

For a time the seasons Changed and passed in a sweet succession That seemed to me like an endless music: Life was a rolling psalm, and the choirs Of God were glad for our love.—I fancied All this, and more than I dare to tell you To-night,—yes, more than I dare to remember;— And then. well, the music stopped. There are moments In all men's lives when it stops, I fancy,—