• Her senses gasped in the sudden air,
• And she looked around, but none was there.
• She felt the slackening frost distil
• Through her blood the last ooze dull and chill:
• Her lids were dry and her lips were still.

• Her tears had flooded her heart again;
• As after a long day's bitter rain,
• At dusk when the wet flower-cups shrink,
• The drops run in from the beaded brink,
• 20And all the close-shut petals drink.

• Again her sighs on her heart were rolled;
• As the wind that long has swept the wold,—
• Whose moan was made with the moaning sea,—
• Beats out its breath in the last torn tree,
• And sinks at length in lethargy.

• She knew she had waded bosom-deep
• Along death's bank in the sedge of sleep:
• All else was lost to her clouded mind;
• Nor, looking back, could she see defin'd
• 30O'er the dim dumb waste what lay behind.

• Slowly fades the sun from the wall
• Till day lies dead on the sun-dial:
• And now in Rose Mary's lifted eye
• 'Twas shadow alone that made reply
• To the set face of the soul's dark sky.

• Yet still through her soul there wandered past
• Dread phantoms borne on a wailing blast,—
• Death and sorrow and sin and shame;
• And, murmured still, to her lips there came
• 40Her mother's and her lover's name.

• How to ask, and what thing to know?
• She might not stay and she dared not go.
• From fires unseen these smoke-clouds curled;
• But where did the hidden curse lie furled?
• And how to seek through the weary world?

• With toiling breath she rose from the floor
• And dragged her steps to an open door:
• 'Twas the secret panel standing wide,
• As the lady's hand had let it bide
• 50In hastening back to her daughter's side.

• She passed, but reeled with a dizzy brain
• And smote the door which closed again.
• She stood within by the darkling stair,
• But her feet might mount more freely there,—
• 'Twas the open light most blinded her.

• Within her mind no wonder grew
• At the secret path she never knew:
• All ways alike were strange to her now,—
• One field bare-ridged from the spirit's plough,
• 60One thicket black with the cypress-bough.

• Once she thought that she heard her name;
• And she paused, but knew not whence it came.
• Down the shadowed stair a faint ray fell
• That guided the weary footsteps well
• Till it led her up to the altar-cell.

• No change there was on Rose Mary's face
• As she leaned in the portal's narrow space:
• Still she stood by the pillar's stem,
• Hand and bosom and garment's hem,
• 70As the soul stands by at the requiem.

• The altar-cell was a dome low-lit,
• And a veil hung in the midst of it:
• At the pole-points of its circling girth
• Four symbols stood of the world's first birth,—
• Air and water and fire and earth.

• To the north, a fountain glittered free;
• To the south, there glowed a red fruit-tree;
• To the east, a lamp flamed high and fair;
• To the west, a crystal casket rare
• 80Held fast a cloud of the fields of air.

• The painted walls were a mystic show
• Of time's ebb-tide and overflow;
• His hoards long-locked and conquering key,
• His service-fires that in heaven be,
• And earth-wheels whirled perpetually.

• Rose Mary gazed from the open door
• As on idle things she cared not for,—
• The fleeting shapes of an empty tale;
• Then stepped with a heedless visage pale,
• 90And lifted aside the altar-veil.

• The altar stood from its curved recess
• In a coiling serpent's life-likeness:
• Even such a serpent evermore
• Lies deep asleep at the world's dark core
• Till the last Voice shake the sea and shore.

• From the altar-cloth a book rose spread
• And tapers burned at the altar-head;
• And there in the altar-midst alone,
• 'Twixt wings of a sculptured beast unknown,
• 100Rose Mary saw the Beryl-stone.

• Firm it sat 'twixt the hollowed wings,
• As an orb sits in the hand of kings:
• And lo! for that Foe whose curse far-flown
• Had bound her life with a burning zone,
• Rose Mary knew the Beryl-stone.

• Dread is the meteor's blazing sphere
• When the poles throb to its blind career;
• But not with a light more grim and ghast
• Thereby is the future doom forecast,
• 110Than now this sight brought back the past.

• The hours and minutes seemed to whirr
• In a clanging swarm that deafened her;
• They stung her heart to a writhing flame,
• And marshalled past in its glare they came,—
• Death and sorrow and sin and shame.

• Round the Beryl's sphere she saw them pass
• And mock her eyes from the fated glass:
• One by one in a fiery train
• The dead hours seemed to wax and wane,
• 120And burned till all was known again.

• From the drained heart's fount there rose no cry,
• There sprang no tears, for the source was dry.
• Held in the hand of some heavy law,
• Her eyes she might not once withdraw
• Nor shrink away from the thing she saw.

• Even as she gazed, through all her blood
• The flame was quenched in a coming flood:
• Out of the depth of the hollow ,
• On her soul's bare sands she felt it boom,—
• 130The measured tide of a sea of doom.

• Three steps she took through the altar-gate,
• And her neck reared and her arms grew straight:
• The sinews clenched like a serpent's throe,
• And the face was white in the dark hair's flow,
• As her hate beheld what lay below.

• Dumb she stood in her malisons,—
• A silver statue tressed with bronze:
• As the fabled head by Perseus mown,
• It seemed in sooth that her gaze alone
• 140Had turned the carven shapes to stone.

• O'er the altar-sides on either hand
• There hung a dinted helm and brand:
• By strength thereof, 'neath the Sacred Sign,
• That bitter gift o'er the salt sea-brine
• Her father brought from Palestine.

• Rose Mary moved with a stern accord
• And reached her hand to her father's sword;
• Nor did she stir her gaze one whit
• From the thing whereon her brows were knit;
• 150But gazing still, she spoke to it.

• “O ye, three times accurst,” she said,
• “By whom this stone is tenanted!
• Lo! here ye came by a strong sin's might;
• Yet a sinner's hand that's weak to smite
• Shall send you hence ere the day be night.

• “This hour a clear voice bade me know
• My hand shall work your overthrow:
• Another thing in mine ear it spake,—
• With the broken spell my life shall break.
• 160I thank Thee, God, for the dear death's sake!

• “And he Thy heavenly minister
• Who swayed erewhile this spell-bound sphere,—
• My parting soul let him haste to greet,
• And none but he be guide for my feet
• To where Thy rest is made complete.”

• Then deep she breathed, with a tender moan:—
• “My love, my lord, my only one!
• Even as I held the cursed clue,
• When thee, through me, these foul ones slew,—
• 170By mine own deed shall they slay me too!

• “Even while they speed to Hell, my love,
• Two hearts shall meet in Heaven above.
• Our shrift thou sought'st, but might'st not bring:
• And oh! for me 'tis a blessed thing
• To work hereby our ransoming.

• “One were our hearts in joy and pain,
• And our souls e'en now grow one again.
• And O my love, if our souls are three,
• O thine and mine shall the third soul be,—
• 180One threefold love eternally.”

• Her eyes were soft as she spoke apart,
• And the lips smiled to the broken heart:
• But the glance was dark and the forehead scored
• With the bitter frown of hate restored,
• As her two hands swung the heavy sword.

• Three steps back from her Foe she trod:—
• “Love, for thy sake! In Thy Name, O God!”
• In the fair white hands small strength was shown;
• Yet the blade flashed high and the edge fell prone,
• 190And she cleft the heart of the Beryl-stone.

• What living flesh in the thunder-cloud
• Hath sat and felt heaven cry aloud?
• Or known how the levin's pulse may beat?
• Or wrapped the hour when the whirlwinds meet
• About its breast for a winding-sheet?

• Who hath crouched at the world's deep heart
• While the earthquake rends its loins apart?
• Or walked far under the seething main
• While overhead the heavens ordain
• 200The tempest-towers of the hurricane?

• Who hath seen or what ear hath heard
• The secret things unregister'd
• Of the place where all is past and done
• And tears and laughter sound as one
• In Hell's unhallowed unison?

• Nay, is it writ how the fiends despair
• In earth and water and fire and air?
• Even so no mortal tongue may tell
• How to the clang of the sword that fell
• 210The echoes shook the altar-cell.

• When all was still on the air again
• The Beryl-stone lay cleft in twain;
• The veil was rent from the riven dome;
• And every wind that's winged to roam
• Might have the ruined place for home.

• The fountain no more glittered free;
• The fruit hung dead on the leafless tree;
• The flame of the lamp had ceased to flare;
• And the crystal casket shattered there
• 220Was emptied now of its cloud of air.

• And lo! on the ground Rose Mary lay,
• With a cold brow like the snows ere May,
• With a cold breast like the earth till Spring,
• With such a smile as the June days bring
• When the year grows warm for harvesting.

• The death she had won might leave no trace
• On the soft sweet form and gentle face:
• In a gracious sleep she seemed to lie;
• And over her head her hand on high
• 230Held fast the sword she triumphed by.

• 'Twas then a clear voice said in the room:—
• “Behold the end of the heavy doom.
• O come,—for thy bitter love's sake blest;
• By a sweet path now thou journeyest,
• And I will lead thee to thy rest.

• “Me thy sin by Heaven's sore ban
• Did chase erewhile from the talisman:
• But to my heart, as a conquered home,
• In glory of strength thy footsteps come
• 240Who hast thus cast forth my foes therefrom.

• “Already thy heart remembereth
• No more his name thou sought'st in death:
• For under all deeps, all heights above,—
• So wide the gulf in the midst thereof,—
• Are Hell of Treason and Heaven of Love.

• “Thee, true soul, shall thy truth prefer
• To blessed Mary's rose-bower:
• Warmed and lit is thy place afar
• With guerdon-fires of the sweet Love-star
• 250Where hearts of steadfast lovers are:—