He touched her wholly with his naked soul,
At once sufficing all the new-made sense
For ever: so the Giver Himself stole
The gift, and left indeed no recompense.
All lavishly at first He did entreat
His leman; yea, the world of things create
He rolled like any jewel at her feet,
And of her changeful whim He made a fate.
He feasted her with ease and idle food
Of gods, and taught her lusts to fill the whole
Of life; withal He gave her nothing good,
And left her as He made her—without soul.
And lo, when he had held her for a season
In His own pleasure-palaces above,
He gave her unto man; this is the reason
She is so fair to see, so false to love.
II.
THE WIFE OF HEPHÆSTUS.
HE was not fair to look on as a god—
Her husband whom God gave her; for his face,
Not as the golden face of Phœbus glowed;
Nor in his body was there light or grace;
But he was rugged-seeming; all his brows
Were changed and smeared with the great human toil;
His limbs all gnarled and knotted as the boughs
And limbs of mighty oaks are: many a soil
Was on his skin, coarse-coloured as a bark;
Yea, he was shorn of beauty from the birth;
But strong, and of a mighty soul to work
With Fate and all the iron of the earth.
Thereto he had a heart even to love
That woman whom God gave him; and his part
Of fate had been quite blest—ay, sweet enough,
Having her beautiful and whole of heart.
But when he knew she was quite false and vain,
He slew her not because she was so fair;
Yea, spite of all the rest, had rather slain
Himself, than lost the looking on her hair.