XXXIII.
"Go quickly! For the time approaches when
Destruction must arrive.—Oh, well I know
All thou wouldst say to me.—What boots it then?—
I tell thee thou must go, that thou must go!—
Yea, dost thou think I'd have thee die 'mid men
Like these, for such an one as I!—No! no!—
Thy life is clean. Thou shalt not cast away
Thy clean life for my soiled one. Go, I pray!"
XXXIV.
She ceased. I spoke—I know not what it was.
Then took her hand and kissed it and so said—
"Thou art my promised wife. Thou hast no cause
That is not mine. I love thee. We will wed.
I love thee. Come!"—A moment did she pause,
Then shook her head and sighed, "My heart is dead.
This can not be. Behold, that way is thine.
I will not let thee share this way that's mine."
XXXV.
Then turning from me ere I could prevent
Passed like a shadow from the shadowy room,
Leaving my soul in shadow ... Naught was meant
By my sweet flower of love then! bloom by bloom
I'd watched it wither; then its fragrance went,
And naught was left now.—It was dark as doom,
And bells were tolling far off through the rain,
When from that house I turned my face again.
XXXVI.
Then in the night a trumpet; and the dull
Close thud of horse and clash of Puritan arms;
And glimmering helms swept by me. Sorrowful
I stood and waited till upon the storm's
Black breast, the Manse, a burning carbuncle,
Blazed like a battle-beacon, and alarms
Of onslaught clanged around it; then, like one
Who bears with him God's curse, I galloped on.