And in sleep he cried out to her,--stilling A moment the rush of her song, The rainbowing torrent of song,-- "Cease! cease! for the rapture is killing! The glory of light is too strong!-- Oh, cease! make an end of thy song!"-- But she, with the frenzy o'erflowing, Cried out in an anguish of passion, "Thy soul shall be one with my song, With me and the soul of my song. Take my hand! let us walk in the glowing Sweet heaven and hell of all song; Where the torrents of music are flowing, The rivers of music and song. Take my hand! Dost thou hear? We are going! We, too, to God's splendor belong! Let us walk in the light of His song, The thunder and flame of His song." XVI Then she flung in her song the emotion, Triumphant, of heart and of soul; Till the passion and pain were an ocean That swept her with billowing roll, As it seemed, to abysses of dole, Abysses of infinite dole. XVII And paler than moonlight and marble He lay on the red of that robe, Lay white at her feet on the scarlet, With silence-sealed lips and the glitter Of tears in each violet globe Of his eyes.--And she said: "It is bitter To see him so still on this robe, Like marble so still on this robe." Then she knelt and cried out, "Art thou living? Or dead?--Have I slain thee with song?-- I gave thee the best in my giving, But all that I gave thee seems wrong!-- No blessing, a curse was my song! A curse and a sorrow my song!" XVIII And she shattered her harp in her madness, And rent at her breasts and her hair; Then kissed him on mouth and on temples, And spoke to him smoothing the sadness, The calm of his brow that was fair, Was perfect and hopelessly fair. Then she wailed to the stars in the heaven, And railed at her song as a thief, Calling out, "For a curse wast thou given! Yea, thou! for a curse and a grief! A curse and an infinite grief!" XIX And the moon, it went down like a broken Great dagger of gold in the west; Like a dagger of gold that was broken, Her dagger of song, that had spoken, And pierced with its beauty his breast, Had ravished his soul from his breast. And she lay with her hair, deep and golden, Thick showered and shaken on his; Her arms around him were enfolden; Her lips clave to his with a kiss, The love and the grief of a kiss. BLODEUWEDD