II. THE CONTRACT.
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wice thirty centuries and more ago,All in a heavenly Abyssinian vale,Man first met woman; and the ruddy snowOn many-ridged Abora turn'd pale,And the song choked within the nightingale.A mild white furnace in the thorough blastOf purest spirit seem'd She as she pass'd;And of the Man enough that this be said,He look'd her Head.Towards their bowerTogether as they went,With hearts conceiving torrents of content,And linger'd prologue fit for Paradise,He, gathering powerFrom dear persuasion of the dim-lit hour,And doubted sanction of her sparkling eyes,Thus supplicates her conjugal assent,And thus she makes replies:'Lo, Eve, the Day burns on the snowy height,But here is mellow night!''Here let us rest. The languor of the lightIs in my feet.It is thy strength, my Love, that makes me weak;Thy strength it is that makes my weakness sweet.What would thy kiss'd lips speak?''See, what a world of roses I have spreadTo make the bridal bed.Come, Beauty's self and Love's, thus to thy throne be led!''My Lord, my Wisdom, nay!Does not yon love-delighted Planet run,(Haply against her heart,)A space apartFor ever from her strong-persuading Sun!O say,Shall we no voluntary barsSet to our drift? I, Sister of the Stars,And Thou, my glorious, course-compelling Day!''Yea, yea!Was it an echo of her coming wordWhich, ere she spake, I heard?Or through what strange distrust was I, her Head,Not first this thing to have said?AlwaySpeaks not within my breastThe uncompulsive, great and sweet behestOf something bright,Not named, not known, and yet more manifestThan is the morn,The sun being just at point then to be born?O Eve, take back thy "Nay."Trust me, Beloved, ever in all to meanThy blissful service, sacrificial, keen;But bondless be that service, and let speak--''This other world of roses in my cheek,Which hide them in thy breast, and deepening seekThat thou decree if they mean Yea or Nay.''Did e'er so sweet a word such sweet gainsay!''And when I lean, Love, on you, thus, and smileSo that my Nay seems Yea,You must the whileThence be confirm'd that I deny you still.''I will, I will!''And when my arms are round your neck, like this,And I, as now,Melt like a golden ingot in your kiss,Then, more than ever, shall your splendid wordBe as Archangel Michael's severing sword!Speak, speak!Your might, Love, makes me weak,Your might it is that makes my weakness sweet.''I vow, I vow!''And are you happy, O, my Hero and Lord;And is your joy complete?''Yea, with my joyful heart my body rocks,And joy comes down from Heaven in floods and shocks,As from Mount Abora comes the avalanche.''My Law, my Light!Then am I yours as your high mind may list.No wile shall lure you, none can I resist!'Thus the first EveWith much enamour'd Adam did enactTheir mutual free contractOf virgin spousals, blissful beyond flightOf modern thought, with great intention staunch,Though unobliged until that binding pact.Whether She kept her word, or He the mindTo hold her, wavering, to his own restraint,Answer, ye pleasures faint,Ye fiery throes, and upturn'd eyeballs blindOf sick-at-heart Mankind,Whom nothing succour can,Until a heaven-caress'd and happier EveBe join'd with some glad SaintIn like espousals, blessed upon Earth,And she her Fruit forth bring;No numb, chill-hearted, shaken-witted thing,'Plaining his little span,But of proud virgin joy the appropriate birth,The Son of God and Man.
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