It ended, and the morrow brought the task:
Her eyes were guilty gates that let him in
By shutting all too zealous for their sin:
Each suck'd a secret, and each wore a mask.
But, oh the bitter taste her beauty had!
He sicken'd as at breath of poison-flowers:
A languid humour stole among the hours.
And if their smiles encounter'd, he went mad,
And raged, deep inward, till the light was brown
Before his vision, and the world forgot,
Look'd wicked as some old dull murder spot.
A star with lurid bеams, she seem'd to crown
The pit of infamy: and then again
Hе fainted on his vengefulness, and strove
To ape the magnanimity of love.
And smote himself, a shuddering heap of pain.
Her eyes were guilty gates that let him in
By shutting all too zealous for their sin:
Each suck'd a secret, and each wore a mask.
But, oh the bitter taste her beauty had!
He sicken'd as at breath of poison-flowers:
A languid humour stole among the hours.
And if their smiles encounter'd, he went mad,
And raged, deep inward, till the light was brown
Before his vision, and the world forgot,
Look'd wicked as some old dull murder spot.
A star with lurid bеams, she seem'd to crown
The pit of infamy: and then again
Hе fainted on his vengefulness, and strove
To ape the magnanimity of love.
And smote himself, a shuddering heap of pain.
( George Meredith )
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