Читать книгу The Poems of Madison Cawein. Volume 2 (of 5) - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 48

I seem to see her still; to see

That blue-hung room. Her perfume comes

From lavender folds, draped dreamily,—

A-blossom with brocaded blooms,—

Some stuff of orient looms.

I seem to hear her speak; and back,

Where sleeps the sun on books and piles

Of porcelain and bric-à-brac,

A tall clock ticks above the tiles,

Where Love’s framed profile smiles.

I hear her say, “Ah, had I known!—

I suffer too for what has been—

For what must be.”—A wild ache shone

In her sad gaze that seemed to lean

On something far, unseen.

And as in sleep my own self seems

Outside my suffering self.—I flush

’Twixt facts and undetermined dreams,

And stand, as silent as that hush

Of lilac light and plush.

Smiling, but suffering, I feel,

Beneath that face, so sweet and sad,

In those pale temples, thoughts, like steel,

Pierce burningly.... I had gone mad

Had I once thought her glad.—

Unconsciously, with eyes that yearn

To look beyond the present far,

For one faint future hope, I turn—

There, in her garden, one fierce star,

A cactus, red as war,

Vermilion as a storm-sunk sun,

Flames torrid splendor,—brings to life

A sunset; memory of one

Rich eve she said she ’d be my wife;

An eve with beauty rife.

Again amid the heavy hues,

Soft crimson, seal, and satiny gold

Of flowers there, I stood ’mid dews

With her; deep in her garden old,

While sunset’s flame unrolled.

And now!… It can not be! and yet

To see ’tis so!—In heart and brain

To know ’tis so!—While, warm and wet,

I seem to smell those scents again,

Verbena scents and rain.

I turn, in hope she ’ll bid me stay.

Again her cameo beauty mark

Set in that smile.—She turns away.

No farewell! no regret! no spark

Of hope to cheer the dark!

That sepia sketch—conceive it so—

A jaunty head with mouth and eyes

Tragic beneath a rose-chapeau,

Silk-masked, unmasking—it denies

The look we half surmise,

We know is there. ’Tis thus we read

The true beneath the false; perceive

The ache beneath the smile.—Indeed!

Whose soul unmasks?… Not mine!—I grieve,—

Oh God!—but laugh and leave....