THE ETCHER
Unconsciously you sketched it in,
The supple throat, the firm, sweet chin,
The hair, wood-brown, leaf-brown unrolled
But hesitating into gold,
The face—a flying face and young ...
Lashingly deep the acid stung,
Charring my soul’s most stubborn plank,
A long way in it burned and sank.
Your tool cut sure, your tool cut deep!
It roused my rebels from their sleep!
Black Fortitude, the torture-wise,
Whose eyes can beat down lions’ eyes;
Song-happy Valor, long denied;
The stubborn sergeant men call Pride;
Humor, whose clear and mocking bells
Cleanse the sick mind like crystal wells;
Love in white wool that burnt like fire,
And trampling on abased Desire!
Their shining raiment bright as hail,
They rose and cried and were in mail;
Strong guards, impenetrable towers,
Their swords grew round your face like flowers!
You started out in careless sort,
But Kings have come into your court.
And spear-bright Princes vigil keep,
Where that your acid bit so deep.
A shifting border wholly mine
About that face you etched—a sign
That, devil-come or devil-go,
What man I am, you made me so!
You stirred the sluggard, taught the clod,
Came and were merciful and God
To the mewed hawk with blinded eyes
And flung him out across the skies!
Yet I have some of you—I hold
A portion of your sacred gold!
It was by steel and flame you taught
And, though the lesson stands cheap-bought,
A curl, a word, a face remain,
For I have bought them with my pain.
With bloody coins from hands cut through
I here claim part and lot in you!
For hells of fire, and hells of ice,
A corner of your Paradise!
You may not leave my soul unfed;
Dies it, then part of you is dead.
For every pageant of my foes
A portion of your shining goes.
You can forget the triumph-girt,
But not the silly boy you hurt.
You burned too deep, you seared too sure,
The bonds you forged are most secure,
Through splitting earth and rending sky,
We are together—you and I!