Mesmerism
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ll I believed is true! I am able yet All I want, to getBy a method as strange as new:Dare I trust the same to you? If at night, when doors are shut, And the wood-worm picks, And the death-watch ticks,And the bar has a flag of smut,And a cat's in the water-butt-- And the socket floats and flares, And the house-beams groan, And a foot unknownIs surmised on the garret-stairs,And the locks slip unawares-- And the spider, to serve his ends, By a sudden thread, Arms and legs outspread,On the table's midst descends,Comes to find, God knows what friends!-- If since eve drew in, I say, I have sat and brought (So to speak) my thoughtTo bear on the woman away,Till I felt my hair turn grey-- Till I seemed to have and hold, In the vacancy 'Twixt the wall and me,From the hair-plait's chestnut goldTo the foot in its muslin fold-- Have and hold, then and there, Her, from head to foot Breathing and mute,Passive and yet aware,In the grasp of my steady stare-- Hold and have, there and then, All her body and soul That completes my whole,All that women add to men,In the clutch of my steady ken-- Having and holding, till I imprint her fast On the void at lastAs the sun does whom he willBy the calotypist's skill-- Then,--if my heart's strength serve, And through all and each Of the veils I reachTo her soul and never swerve,Knitting an iron nerve-- Command her soul to advance And inform the shape Which has made escapeAnd before my countenanceAnswers me glance for glance-- I, still with a gesture fit Of my hands that best Do my soul's behest,Pointing the power from it,While myself do steadfast sit-- Steadfast and still the same On my object bent, While the hands give ventTo my ardour and my aimAnd break into very flame-- Then I reach, I must believe, Not her soul in vain, For to me againIt reaches, and past retrieveIs wound in the toils I weave; And must follow as I require, As befits a thrall, Bringing flesh and all,Essence and earth-attireTo the source of the tractile fire: Till the house called hers, not mine, With a growing weight Seems to suffocateIf she break not its leaden lineAnd escape from its close confine. Out of doors into the night! On to the maze Of the wild wood-ways,Not turning to left nor rightFrom the pathway, blind with sight-- Making thro' rain and wind O'er the broken shrubs, 'Twixt the stems and stubs,With a still, composed, strong mind,Nor a care for the world behind-- Swifter and still more swift, As the crowding peace Doth to joy increaseIn the wide blind eyes upliftThro' the darkness and the drift! While I--to the shape, I too Feel my soul dilate Nor a whit abate,And relax not a gesture due,As I see my belief come true. For, there! have I drawn or no Life to that lip? Do my fingers dipIn a flame which again they throwOn the cheek that breaks a-glow? Ha! was the hair so first? What, unfilleted, Made alive, and spreadThrough the void with a rich outburst,Chestnut gold-interspersed? Like the doors of a casket-shrine, See, on either side, Her two arms divideTill the heart betwixt makes sign,Take me, for I am thine! "Now--now"--the door is heard! Hark, the stairs! and near-- Nearer--and here--"Now!" and at call the thirdShe enters without a word. On doth she march and on To the fancied shape; It is, past escape,Herself, now: the dream is doneAnd the shadow and she are one. First I will pray. Do Thou That ownest the soul, Yet wilt grant controlTo another, nor disallowFor a time, restrain me now! I admonish me while I may, Not to squander guilt, Since require Thou wiltAt my hand its price one day!What the price is, who can say?
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