Not thus
I am to do, but in my heart to break
All the reluctance; it must have on me
No pleasure; else I am endlessly tortured_.
I am to do, but in my heart to break
All the reluctance; it must have on me
No pleasure; else I am endlessly tortured_.
Lascelles Abercrombie - Emblems of Love
)
_Sylvan_.
Well, altogether gript by the being of love.
(_Yes, now the bargain's done; and I may wear,
Like a cheated savage, scarlet dyes and strings
Of beaded glass, all the pleasure of love_! )
_Katrina_.
It is a wonderful tyranny, that life
Has no choice but to be delighted love!
(_I know what I must do: I am to abase
My heart utterly, and have nothing in me
That dare take pleasure beyond serving love.
Thus only shall I bear it; and perhaps--
Might I even of my abasement make
A passion, fearfully enjoying it_? )
_Sylvan_.
You are full of thoughts, sweetheart?
_Katrina_.
And so are you:
A long while since you kist me! (_What have I said?
O fool so to remind him! I shall scarce
Help crying out or shuddering this time! --
Ah no; I am again a fool!
Not thus
I am to do, but in my heart to break
All the reluctance; it must have on me
No pleasure; else I am endlessly tortured_. )
Then I must kiss you, Sylvan!
[_She kisses him_.
_Sylvan_.
Ah, my darling!
(_God! it went through my flesh as thrilling sound
Must shake a fiddle when the strings are snatcht!
Will she make the life in me all a slave
Of my kist body,--a trembling, eager slave?
It ran like a terror to my heart, the sense,
The shivering delight upon my skin,
Of her lips touching me_. ) My beloved,--
It may be it were wise, that we took care
Our pleasant love come never in the risk
Of being too much known.
_Katrina_.
O what a risk
To think of here! Love is not common life,
But always fresh and sweet. Can this grow stale?
[_She kisses him again_.
_Sylvan_.
_Sylvan_.
Well, altogether gript by the being of love.
(_Yes, now the bargain's done; and I may wear,
Like a cheated savage, scarlet dyes and strings
Of beaded glass, all the pleasure of love_! )
_Katrina_.
It is a wonderful tyranny, that life
Has no choice but to be delighted love!
(_I know what I must do: I am to abase
My heart utterly, and have nothing in me
That dare take pleasure beyond serving love.
Thus only shall I bear it; and perhaps--
Might I even of my abasement make
A passion, fearfully enjoying it_? )
_Sylvan_.
You are full of thoughts, sweetheart?
_Katrina_.
And so are you:
A long while since you kist me! (_What have I said?
O fool so to remind him! I shall scarce
Help crying out or shuddering this time! --
Ah no; I am again a fool!
Not thus
I am to do, but in my heart to break
All the reluctance; it must have on me
No pleasure; else I am endlessly tortured_. )
Then I must kiss you, Sylvan!
[_She kisses him_.
_Sylvan_.
Ah, my darling!
(_God! it went through my flesh as thrilling sound
Must shake a fiddle when the strings are snatcht!
Will she make the life in me all a slave
Of my kist body,--a trembling, eager slave?
It ran like a terror to my heart, the sense,
The shivering delight upon my skin,
Of her lips touching me_. ) My beloved,--
It may be it were wise, that we took care
Our pleasant love come never in the risk
Of being too much known.
_Katrina_.
O what a risk
To think of here! Love is not common life,
But always fresh and sweet. Can this grow stale?
[_She kisses him again_.
_Sylvan_.