As heifer—the old simile comes pat—
Eyes tremblingly the altar and the priest:
The amazed look, all one insuppressive prayer,—
Might she but be set free as heretofore, (980)
Have this cup leave her lips unblistered, bear
Any cross anywhither anyhow,
So but alone, so but apart from me!
You are touched? So am I, quite otherwise,
If ’tis with pity. I resent my wrong,
Being a man: we only show man’s soul
Through man’s flesh, she sees mine, it strikes her thus!
Is that attractive? To a youth perhaps—
Calf-creature, one-part boy to three-parts girl,
To whom it is a flattering novelty (990)
That he, men use to motion from their path,
Can thus impose, thus terrify in turn
A chit whose terror shall be changed apace
To bliss unbearable when, grace and glow,
Prowess and pride descend the throne and touch
Esther in all that pretty tremble, cured
By the dove o’ the sceptre! But myself am old,
O’ the wane at least, in all things: what do you say
To her who frankly thus confirms my doubt?
I am past the prime, I scare the woman-world, (1000)
Done- with that way: you like this piece of news?
A little saucy rose-bud minx can strike
Death-damp into the breast of doughty king
Though ’twere French Louis,—soul I understand,—
Saying, by gesture of repugnance, just
“Sire, you are regal, puissant and so forth,
“But—young you have been, are not, nor will be!”
In vain the mother nods, winks, bustles up
“Count, girls incline to mature worth like you!
“As for Pompilia, what’s flesh, fish, or fowl (1010)
“To one who apprehends no difference,
“And would accept you even were you old
“As you are…youngish by her father’s side?
“Trim but your beard a little, thin your bush
“Of eyebrow; and for presence, portliness
“And decent gravity, you beat a boy!”
Deceive you for a second, if you may,
In presence of the child that so loves age,
Whose neck writhes, cords itself against your kiss,
Whose hand you wring stark, rigid with despair! (1020)
Well, I resent this; I am young in soul,
Nor old in body,—thews and sinews here,—
Though the vile surface be not smooth as once,—
Far beyond the first wheelwork that went wrong
Through the untempered iron ere ’twas proof:
I am the steel man worth ten times the crude,—
Would woman see what this declines to see,
Declines to say “I see,”—the officious word
That makes the thing, pricks on the soul to shoot
New fire into the half-used cinder, flesh! (1030)
Therefore ’tis she begins with wronging me,
Who cannot but begin with hating her.
Our marriage follows: there we stand again!
Why do I laugh? Why, in the very gripe
O’ the jaws of death’s gigantic skull do I
Grin back his grin, make sport of my own pangs?
Why from each clashing of his molars, ground
To make the devil bread from out my grist,
Leaps out a spark of mirth, a hellish toy?
Take notice we are lovers in a church, (1040)
Waiting the sacrament to make us one
And happy! Just as bid, she bears herself,
Comes and kneels, rises, speaks, is silent,—goes:
So have I brought my horse, by word and blow,
To stand stock- still and front the fire he dreads.
How can I other than remember this,
Resent the very obedience? Gain thereby?
Yes, I do gain my end and have my will,—
Thanks to whom? When the mother speaks the word,
She obeys it—even to enduring me! (1050)
There had been compensation in revolt—
Revolt’s to quell: but martyrdom rehearsed,
But determined saintship for the sake
O’ the mother?—“Go!” thought I, “we meet again!”
Pass the next weeks of dumb contented death,
She lives,—wakes up, installed in house and home,
Is mine, mine all day-long, all night-long mine.
Good folks begin at me with open mouth
“Now, at least, reconcile the child to life!
“Study and make her love…that is, endure (1060)
“The…hem! the…all of you though somewhat old,
“Till it amount to something, in her eye,
“As good as love, better a thousand times—
“Since nature helps the woman in such strait,
“Makes passiveness her pleasure: failing which,
“What if you give up boys’ and girls’ fools’-play
“And go on to wise friendship all at once?
“Those boys and girls kiss themselves cold, you know.
“Toy themselves tired and slink aside full soon
“To friendship, as they name satiety; (1070)
“Thither go you and wait their coming!” Thanks,
Considerate advisers,—but, fair play!
Had you and I but started fair at first
We, keeping fair, might reach it, neck by neck,
This blessed goal, whenever fate so please:
But why am I to miss the daisied mile
The course begins with, why obtain the dust
Of the end precisely at the starting-point?
Why quaff life’s cup blown free of all the beads,
The bright red froth wherein our beard should steep (1080)
Before our mouth essay the black o’ the wine?
Foolish, the love-fit? Let me prove it such
Like you, before like you I puff things clear!
“The best’s to come, no rapture but content!
“Not the first glory but a sober glow,
“Nor a spontaneous outburst in pure boon,
“So much as, gained by patience, care and toil!”
Go preach that to your nephews, not to me
Who, tired i’ the midway of my life, would stop
And take my first refreshment in a rose: (1090)
What’s this coarse woolly hip, worn smooth of leaf,
You counsel I go plant in garden-pot,
Water with tears, manure with sweat and blood,
In confidence the seed shall germinate
And, for its very best, some far-off day,
Grow big, and blow me out a dog-rose bell?
Why must your nephews begin breathing spice
O’ the hundred-petalled Provence prodigy?
Nay, more and worse,—would such my root bear rose—
Prove really flower and favourite, not the kind (1100)
That’s queen, but
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