Magdalen

Do you remember, love, the thing I was That summer morning when you stood with me There in the rain-wet fields, where the sweet wind Blew my hair loose and free?

Do you remember? Ay! My soul was clean As that clean wind that blew between us two; My spirit burned as some white temple flame When the god passes through.

You were my god--and all of earth fell back; I saw but you--knew only you were near; Look in my eyes--What is it there today That strikes you cold with fear?

You stooped that day to touch your cheek to mine-- I laugh to watch you shrink and shudder now; Am I so changed? Look well--it is your mark That brands me, cheek and brow.

Ay! and my hand-print lies upon your soul! You cannot loose my fingers from your own; And though your feet go up to palaces, Or down to Hell they do not go alone.