4 Hortense
1
Once I thought each kiss a woman
Gives us, or receives instead,
By some influence superhuman
Was from old predestinèd.
I both took and gave back willing
Kisses then as earnestly
As if I were but fulfilling
Actions of necessity.
Kisses are superfluous,—this I
Have discover’d on life’s stage,
And with small concern now kiss I,
Heedless of the surplusage.
2
Beside the corner of the street
We stood in fond communion
For full an hour, and talked about
Our spirits’ loving union.
We loved each other—this we said
A hundred times repeating;
Beside the corner of the street
We stood, and went on greeting.
The Goddess of Occasion, brisk
As waiting maids, and sprightly,
Pass’d by that way and saw us stand
And smiled, and went on lightly.
3
In all my dreams by daytime,
In all my watchings nightly,
Thy sweet delicious laughter
Rings through my spirit lightly.
Remember’st Montmorency,
Where, on the donkey riding,
Thou fell’st among the thistles,
From off the saddle gliding?
The ass stood still, the thistles
Demurely looking after,—
I never shall forget, love,
Thy sweet delicious laughter.
4
(She speaks.)
In the garden fair a tree stands,
And an apple hangeth there,
And around the trunk a serpent
Coils himself, and I can ne’er
From the serpent’s eyes enchanting
Turn away my troubled sight,
And he whispers words alluring,
And enthrals me with delight.
(The other one speaks.)
’Tis the fruit of life thou spyest,—
Its delicious flavour taste,
That thy life until thou diest
May not be for ever waste!
Darling dove, sweet child, no sighing!
Quickly taste, and never fear;
Follow my advice, relying
On thy aunt’s sage counsel, dear.
5
On my newly-tuned guitar I
Play new tunes that seem much fitter
Old the text is, for the words are
Solomon’s: A woman’s bitter.
To her husband she is faithless,
And she treats her friend with malice;
Wormwood are the last remaining
Drops in love’s once-golden chalice.
Tell me, is the ancient legend
Of the curse of sin no libel?
Did the serpent bring it on thee,
As recorded in the Bible?
Creeping on the earth, the serpent
Lurks in every bush around thee,
Still, as formerly, caresses,
And her hisses still confound thee.
Ah, how cold and dark ’tis growing!
Round the sun the ravens hover
Croakingly, and love and rapture
Now for evermore are over.
6
The bliss that thou didst falsely pledge
For but a short time cheated;
Thine image, like a vision false,
Soon from my bosom fleeted.
The morning came, the mist soon fled
Before the sun’s rays splendid;
And wellnigh ere it had commenced,
Our passing fondness ended.