Then both her white arms round his neck she threw,
And, sobbing, said: "O love, what hurteth me?
When first the sweetness of my life I knew,
Not this I felt; but when I first saw thee
A little pain and great felicity
Rose up within me, and thy talk e'en now
Made pain and pleasure ever greater grow."
"O sweet," he said, "this thing is even love,
Whereof I told thee; that all wise men fear,
But yet escape not; nay, to gods above,
Unless the old tales lie, it draweth near.
But let my happy ears, I pray thee, hear
Thy story, too, and how thy blessed birth
Has made a heaven of this once lonely earth.
"My sweet," she said, "as yet I am not wise,
Or stored with words, aright the tale to tell;
But listen: when I opened first mine eyes
I stood within the niche thou knowest well,
And from mine hand a heavy thing there fell,
Carved like these flowers, nor could I see things clear,
And but a strange, confused noise could hear.
"At last mine eyes could see a woman fair,
But awful as this round, white moon o'erhead.
So that I trembled when I saw her there,
For with my life was born some touch of dread,
And therewithal I heard her voice, that said,
'Come down, and learn to love and be alive,
For thee, a well-prized gift, to-day I give.'
"Then on the floor I stepped, rejoicing much,
Not knowing why, not knowing aught at all,
Till she reached out her hand my breast to touch;
And when her fingers thereupon did fall,
Thought came unto my life, and therewithal
I knew her for a goddess, and began
To murmur in some tongue unknown to man.
The Soul Attains
