‘AS like the Woman as you can’— (_Thus the New Adam was beguiled_)— ‘So shall you touch the Perfect Man’— (_God in the Garden heard and smiled_). ‘Your father perished with his day: ‘A clot of passions fierce and blind, ‘He fought, he hacked, he crushed his way: ‘Your muscles, Child, must be of mind. ‘The Brute that lurks and irks within, ‘How, till you have him gagged and bound, ‘Escape the foullest form of Sin?’ (_God in the Garden laughed and frowned_). ‘So vile, so rank, the bestial mood ‘In which the race is bid to be, ‘It wrecks the Rarer Womanhood: ‘Live, therefore, you, for Purity! ‘Take for your mate no gallant croup, ‘No girl all grace and natural will: ‘To work her mission were to stoop, ‘Maybe to lapse, from Well to Ill. ‘Choose one of whom your grosser make’— (_God in the Garden laughed outright_)— ‘The true refining touch may take, ‘Till both attain to Life’s last height. ‘There, equal, purged of soul and sense. ‘Beneficent, high-thinking, just, ‘Beyond the appeal of Violence, ‘Incapable of common Lust, ‘In mental Marriage still prevail’— (_God in the Garden hid His face_)— ‘Till you achieve that Female-Male ‘In Which shall culminate the race.’ X MIDSUMMER midnight skies, Midsummer midnight influences and airs, The shining, sensitive silver of the sea Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn; And all so solemnly still I seem to hear The breathing of Life and Death, The secular Accomplices, Renewing the visible miracle of the world. The wistful stars Shine like good memories. The young morning wind Blows full of unforgotten hours As over a region of roses. Life and Death Sound on—sound on . . . And the night magical, Troubled yet comforting, thrills As if the Enchanted Castle at the heart Of the wood’s dark wonderment Swung wide his valves, and filled the dim sea-banks With exquisite visitants: Words fiery-hearted yet, dreams and desires With living looks intolerable, regrets Whose voice comes as the voice of an only child Heard from the grave: shapes of a Might-Have-Been— Beautiful, miserable, distraught— The Law no man may baffle denied and slew. The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze To let the marvel by. The grey road glooms . . . Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades, What grace, what glamour, what wild will, Transfigure the shadows? Whose, Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours? Ghosts—ghosts—the sapphirine air Teems with them even to the gleaming ends Of the wild day-spring! Ghosts, Everywhere—everywhere—till I and you At last—dear love, at last!— Are in the dreaming, even as Life and Death, Twin-ministers of the unoriginal Will. XI