Edith Wharton

Artemis to Actaeon and Other Verses Edith Wharton

Book Excerpt: ... The mortal legend--thou that couldst not liveNor look on me (so the divine decree)!That saw'st me in the cloud, the wave, the bough, The clod commoved with April, and the shapesLurking 'twixt lid and eye-ball in the dark. Mocked I thee not in every guise of life, Hid in girls' eyes, a naiad in her well, Wooed through their laughter, and like echo fled, Luring thee down the primal silencesWhere the heart hushes and the flesh is dumb?Nay, was not I the tide that drew thee outRelentlessly from the detaining shore, Forth from the home-lights and the hailing voices, Forth from the last faint headland's failing line, Till I enveloped thee from verge to vergeAnd hid thee in the hollow of my being?And still, because between us hung the veil, The myriad-tinted veil of sense, thy feetRefused their rest, thy hands the gifts of life, Thy heart its losses, lest some lesser faceShould blur mine image in thine upturn