"Thou solemn pathos of all things For solemn joy designed! Behold, submissive to your cause, A holy wrath I find And, for your sake, the bondage break That knits me to my kind. XVI. "Hear me forswear man's sympathies, His pleasant yea and no, His riot on the piteous earth Whereon his thistles grow, His changing love--with stars above, His pride--with graves below. XVII. "Hear me forswear his roof by night, His bread and salt by day, His talkings at the wood-fire hearth, His greetings by the way, His answering looks, his systemed books, All man, for aye and aye. XVIII. "That so my purged, once human heart, From all the human rent, May gather strength to pledge and drink Your wine of wonderment, While you pardon me all blessingly The woe mine Adam sent. XIX. "And I shall feel your unseen looks Innumerous, constant, deep And soft as haunted Adam once, Though sadder, round me creep,-- As slumbering men have mystic ken Of watchers on their sleep. XX. "And ever, when I lift my brow At evening to the sun, No voice of woman or of child Recording 'Day is done.' Your silences shall a love express, More deep than such an one." PART THE SECOND. SHOWING TO WHOM THE VOW WAS DECLARED. I. The poet's vow was inly sworn, The poet's vow was told. He shared among his crowding friends The silver and the gold, They clasping bland his gift,--his hand In a somewhat slacker hold. II. They wended forth, the crowding friends, With farewells smooth and kind. They wended forth, the solaced friends, And left but twain behind: One loved him true as brothers do, And one was Rosalind. III. He said, "My friends have wended forth With farewells smooth and kind; Mine oldest friend, my plighted bride, Ye need not stay behind: Friend, wed my fair bride for my sake, And let my lands ancestral make A dower for Rosalind. IV. "And when beside your wassail board Ye bless your social lot, I charge you that the giver be In all his gifts forgot, Or alone of all his words recall The last,--Lament me not." V. She looked upon him silently With her large, doubting eyes, Like a child that never knew but love Whom words of wrath surprise, Till the rose did break from either cheek And the sudden tears did rise. VI. She looked upon him mournfully, While her large eyes were grown Yet larger with the steady tears, Till, all his purpose known, She turnèd slow, as she would go-- The tears were shaken down. VII. She turnèd slow, as she would go, Then quickly turned again, And gazing in his face to seek Some little touch of pain, "I thought," she said,--but shook her head,-- She tried that speech in vain. VIII.