Page:Poems (IA poemsthomrich).pdf/51
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39
But bird nor child might touch by any art
Each other's or the tree's hid heart,
A whole God's breadth apart;
Each other's or the tree's hid heart,
A whole God's breadth apart;
The breadth of God, the breadth of death and life!
Even so, even so, in undreamed strife
With pulseless Law, the wife,—
Even so, even so, in undreamed strife
With pulseless Law, the wife,—
The sweetest wife on sweetest marriage-day,—
Their souls at grapple in mid-way,
Sweet to her sweet may say:
Their souls at grapple in mid-way,
Sweet to her sweet may say:
"I take you to my inmost heart, my true!"
Ah, fool! but there is one heart you
Shall never take him to!
Ah, fool! but there is one heart you
Shall never take him to!
The hold that falls not when the town is got,
The heart's heart, whose immurèd plot
Hath keys yourself keep not!
The heart's heart, whose immurèd plot
Hath keys yourself keep not!
Its ports you cannot burst—you are withstood—
For him that to your listening blood
Sends precepts as he would.
For him that to your listening blood
Sends precepts as he would.
Its gates are deaf to Love, high summoner;
Yea, Love's great warrant runs not there:
You are your prisoner.
Yea, Love's great warrant runs not there:
You are your prisoner.
Yourself are with yourself the sole consortress
In that unleaguerable fortress;
It knows you not for portress.
In that unleaguerable fortress;
It knows you not for portress.