and the nit,
--Through minuteness, to wit.
V
Then a humour more great took its place
At the thought of his face,
The droop, the low cares of the mouth,
The trouble uncouth
'Twixt
the brows, all that air one is fain
To put out of its pain. 40 And, "no!"
I admonished myself,
"Is one mocked by an elf,
Is one baffled by
toad or by rat?
The gravamen's in that!
How the lion, who crouches
to suit
His back to my foot,
Would admire that I stand in debate!
But the small turns the great
If it vexes you, that is the thing!
Toad
or rat vex the king? 50 Though I waste half my realm to unearth
Toad
or rat, 'tis well worth!"
VI
So, I soberly laid my last plan
To extinguish the man.
Round his
creep-hole, with never a break
Ran my fires for his sake;
Over-head,
did my thunder combine
With my underground mine:
Till I looked
from my labour content
To enjoy the event. 60
VII
When sudden . . . how think ye, the end?
Did I say "without friend"?
Say rather, from marge to blue marge
The whole sky grew his
targe
With the sun's self for visible boss,
While an Arm ran across
Which the earth heaved beneath like a breast
Where the wretch
was safe prest!
Do you see? Just my vengeance complete,
The man
sprang to his feet, 70 Stood erect, caught at God's skirts, and prayed!
--So, _I_ was afraid!
NOTES:
"Instans Tyrannus" is a despot's confession of one of his
own experiences which showed him the inviolability of the
weakest
man who is in the right and who can call the
spiritual force of good to
his aid against the utmost violence or cunning.--"Instans Tyrannus," or
the threatening tyrant, suggested by Horace, third Ode in Book III:
"Justum et tenacem proposti vlrum,
Non civium ardor prava jubentium,
Non vultus instantis tyranni,"
etc.
[The just man tenacious of purpose is not to be turned
aside by the
heat of the populace nor the brow of the
threatening tyrant.]
MESMERISM
I
All I believed is true!
I am able yet
All I want, to get
By a method as strange as new:
Dare I trust the same to you?
II
If at night, when doors are shut,
And the wood-worm picks,
And the death-watch ticks,
And the bar
has a flag of smut,
And a cat's in the water-butt-- 10
III
And the socket floats and flares,
And the house-beams groan,
And a foot unknown
Is surmised on
the garret-stairs,
And the locks slip unawares--
IV
And the spider, to serve his ends,
By a sudden thread,
Arms and legs outspread,
On the table's midst
descends,
Comes to find, God knows what friends!-- 20
V
If since eve drew in, I say,
I have sat and brought
(So to speak) my thought
To bear on the
woman away,
Till I felt my hair turn grey--
VI
Till I seemed to have and hold,
In the vacancy
'Twixt the wall and me,
>From the hair-plait's
chestnut gold
To the foot in its muslin fold-- 30
VII
Have and hold, then and there,
Her, from head to foot
Breathing and mute,
Passive and yet aware,
In the grasp of my steady stare--
VIII
Hold and have, there and then,
All her body and soul
That completes my whole,
All that women
add to men,
In the clutch of my steady ken-- 40
IX
Having and holding, till
I imprint her fast
On the void at last
As the sun does whom he will
By the calotypist's skill--
X
Then,--if my heart's strength serve,
And through all and each
Of the veils I reach
To her soul and never
swerve,
Knitting an iron nerve-- 50
XI
Command her soul to advance
And inform the shape
Which has made escape
And before my
countenance
Answers me glance for glance--
XII
I, still with a gesture fit
Of my hands that best
Do my soul's behest,
Pointing the power
from it,
While myself do steadfast sit-- 60
XIII
Steadfast and still the same
On my object bent,
While the hands give vent
To my ardour and
my aim
And break into very flame--
XIV
Then I reach, I must believe,
Not her soul in vain,
For to me again
It reaches, and past retrieve
Is wound in the toils I weave; 70
XV
And must follow as I require,
As befits a thrall,
Bringing flesh and all,
Essence and earth-attire
To the source of the tractile fire:
XVI
Till the house called hers, not mine,
With a growing weight
Seems to suffocate
If she break not its
leaden line
And escape from its close confine. 80
XVII
Out of doors into the night!
On to the maze
Of the wild wood-ways,
Not turning to left nor right
>From the pathway, blind with sight--
XVIII
Making thro' rain and wind
O'er the broken
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