THE SIEGE



A mock-enthron6d custom speak to God
An atom fettered with nice consequence
Bar up the gates of love that are as wide
As His earth-belting arms
  Ara.                   No pity, none.
  Ari2. My heart, say thou wilt come.
  Ara.                             'Tis death.
  Aris.                                      'Tis life!
Come now, 0 now, else are we cast apart
Far as the dismal Night heaves her vast sigh,
Far as the laboring Chaos breathing blows,-
Perchance to hurl eternally about
The farthest stars that from opposed heavens
Dart fiery scouts that die ere they have met,
So long their journey is. Or, gloomier fate,
Condemned sit like stones that once could weep
Forever in the cave of ended things
That deep in some immortal Lemnos lies
Nor ever opens its dank gates to day!
0, come ere we are lost! Be thy fair arms
The rainbow girdle to this longing storm
And its rude breast will pillow thee as soft
As Leda when, cool-rocked on lily couch,
The great down-bosomed god swam to her love!
Come, Aratea, heart of life! 0 now
This pulse speaks back to mine-this bosom throbs
Like heaven's Artemis unto her own!
                               [Kisses her]
o kiss that holds the mornings of all time,
And dewy seasons of the ungathered rose,
Plant once again thy summer on my lips!
  Ara. How dear is death that kisses with such breath!
Thine eyes are seas where sighing ardors blow
Love's argosies from island bowers of dream
Into my heart. Save me, Aristocles!



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