Goblin Market, The Princes Progress, and Other Poems | Page 4

her chin,?And streaked her neck which quaked like curd.?At last the evil people,?Worn out by her resistance,?Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit?Along whichever road they took, 440 Not leaving root or stone or shoot;?Some writhed into the ground,?Some dived into the brook?With ring and ripple,?Some scudded on the gale without a sound,?Some vanished in the distance.
In a smart, ache, tingle,?Lizzie went her way;?Knew not was it night or day;?Sprang up the bank, tore thro' the furze, 450 Threaded copse and dingle,?And heard her penny jingle?Bouncing in her purse,--?Its bounce was music to her ear.?She ran and ran?As if she feared some goblin man?Dogged her with gibe or curse?Or something worse:?But not one goblin skurried after,?Nor was she pricked by fear; 460 The kind heart made her windy-paced?That urged her home quite out of breath with haste?And inward laughter.
She cried 'Laura,' up the garden,?'Did you miss me??Come and kiss me.?Never mind my bruises,?Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices?Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,?Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 470 Eat me, drink me, love me;?Laura, make much of me:?For your sake I have braved the glen?And had to do with goblin merchant men.'
Laura started from her chair,?Flung her arms up in the air,?Clutched her hair:?'Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted?For my sake the fruit forbidden??Must your light like mine be hidden, 480 Your young life like mine be wasted,?Undone in mine undoing,?And ruined in my ruin,?Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?'--?She clung about her sister,?Kissed and kissed and kissed her:?Tears once again?Refreshed her shrunken eyes,?Dropping like rain?After long sultry drouth; 490 Shaking with aguish fear, and pain,?She kissed and kissed her with a hungry mouth.
Her lips began to scorch,?That juice was wormwood to her tongue,?She loathed the feast:?Writhing as one possessed she leaped and sung,?Rent all her robe, and wrung?Her hands in lamentable haste,?And beat her breast.?Her locks streamed like the torch 500 Borne by a racer at full speed,?Or like the mane of horses in their flight,?Or like an eagle when she stems the light?Straight toward the sun,?Or like a caged thing freed,?Or like a flying flag when armies run.
Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart, Met the fire smouldering there?And overbore its lesser flame;?She gorged on bitterness without a name: 510 Ah! fool, to choose such part?Of soul-consuming care!?Sense failed in the mortal strife:?Like the watch-tower of a town?Which an earthquake shatters down,?Like a lightning-stricken mast,?Like a wind-uprooted tree?Spun about,?Like a foam-topped waterspout?Cast down headlong in the sea, 520 She fell at last;?Pleasure past and anguish past,?Is it death or is it life?
Life out of death.?That night long Lizzie watched by her,?Counted her pulse's flagging stir,?Felt for her breath,?Held water to her lips, and cooled her face?With tears and fanning leaves:?But when the first birds chirped about their eaves, 530 And early reapers plodded to the place?Of golden sheaves,?And dew-wet grass?Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass,?And new buds with new day?Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream,?Laura awoke as from a dream,?Laughed in the innocent old way,?Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice;?Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of grey, 540 Her breath was sweet as May?And light danced in her eyes.
Days, weeks, months, years?Afterwards, when both were wives?With children of their own;?Their mother-hearts beset with fears,?Their lives bound up in tender lives;?Laura would call the little ones?And tell them of her early prime,?Those pleasant days long gone 550 Of not-returning time:?Would talk about the haunted glen,?The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,?Their fruits like honey to the throat?But poison in the blood;?(Men sell not such in any town:)?Would tell them how her sister stood?In deadly peril to do her good,?And win the fiery antidote:?Then joining hands to little hands 560 Would bid them cling together,?'For there is no friend like a sister?In calm or stormy weather;?To cheer one on the tedious way,?To fetch one if one goes astray,?To lift one if one totters down,?To strengthen whilst one stands.'
IN THE ROUND TOWER AT JHANSI
June 8, 1857
A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;?Not a hope in the world remained:?The swarming howling wretches below?Gained and gained and gained.
Skene looked at his pale young wife:--?'Is the time come?'--'The time is come!'--?Young, strong, and so full of life:?The agony struck them dumb.
Close his arm about her now,?Close her cheek to his, 10 Close the pistol to her brow--?God forgive them this!
'Will it hurt much?'--'No, mine own:?I wish I could bear the pang for both.'?'I wish I could bear the pang alone:?Courage, dear, I am not loth.'
Kiss and kiss: 'It is not pain?Thus to kiss and die.?One kiss more.'--'And yet one again.'--?'Good-bye.'--'Good-bye.' 20
DREAM LAND
Where sunless rivers weep?Their waves into the deep,?She sleeps a charm��d sleep:?Awake her not.?Led by a single star,?She came from very far?To seek where shadows are?Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,?She left the fields of corn, 10