The more I suffered under the persecutions of my shrew, the more eagerly I strove to weave a crown of light for her sacred head. The more I was depressed by the reality, the more I became inspired by my hallucinations of her loveliness ... alas for the magic of love!
[IX]
MIDSUMMER IN WINTER
Winter night, the streets forsaken,
Ice-king holds the world in thrall;
Sudden gusts of wind awaken
Eerie sounds, the walls are shaken
By the wild, rebellious call.
Gay as gods we have been dining,
All alone, just you and I.
Light the candles, let their shining
Drive out darkness and repining,
Perfect joy is nigh.
Draw the blinds, the shutters tighten!
Safely screened from prying eyes,
Take the cup and pledge me! brighten
Winter-gloom with song, and lighten
Darkness with sweet harmonies.
Sing of woods, or sing the wonder
Of the sea, serene and bland;
Or the sea, that lashed asunder
Breaks in crashing peals of thunder
On the foam-flecked sand.
Like a great enchanted river,
Full of witchcraft is your voice;
See my pelargoniums quiver
Like a leafy wood a-shiver
In the breeze when daylight dies.
On my screen, her ensign flying,
Leaps a brig with white sails set;
Snugly on the hearthrug lying
Silky fur with sable vying,
Sleeps your Persian cat.
In the mirror's clear perspective
I can see our little home;
Wrapped in dreams, my introspective
Humour conjures up affective
Scenes of past joys, joys to come.
On the desk where I was writing
Falls the candle's mellow glow;
Falls on virgin sheets, exciting
Rose-warm blushes, softly lighting
Their unblemished snow.
In your chamber's sweet seclusion,
Hung with green, a vernal nook,
I can glimpse a wild confusion—
Tangled skeins in rank profusion
Cover work and household book.
In the glass our eyes are meeting;
Flashing blue, like tempered steel
Are your glances, but a fleeting
Smile from tender lips in greeting,
Tells me that your heart is leal.
Radiant brow, my soul entrancing,
Puts the candle-light to shame;
From your jewels flashing, dancing
Sparks are flying and enhancing
Long-lashed eyes' alluring flame.
Hush! the bell disturbs the slumber
Of the house—the postman's ring!
Let him be! His dreary lumber
Shall not darken and encumber
Love's eternal spring.
Letter-box holds proofs and letters
Safely under lock and key;
Sing and play! Till morn unfetters
These officious care-begetters
Love our guerdon be.
Sing, beloved, my soul's desire!
World holds, naught but you and me;
Sing with lips no love can tire,
Sing of passion's quenchless fire,
Fill the night with ecstasy!
X
There were times when I had no doubt that my wife hated me and wished to get rid of me in order to marry again.
Sometimes strange reflections in the expression of her face made me suspect her of having a lover, and her coldness towards me strengthened my suspicion; all of a sudden my smouldering jealousy burst into fierce flames, our marriage was shaken to its very foundations, and hell opened wide at our feet.
My wife declared that she was ill, suffering from some vague disease of the spine or the back, she was uncertain which.