De Profundis Clemadi

A Arthur Symons Arthur Symons
0 Altın Yaprak
I did not know; child, child, I did not know, Who now in lonely wayfare go, Who wander lonely of you, O my child, And by myself exiled. I did not know, but, O white soul of youth, So passionate of truth, So amorous of duty, and so strong To suffer, not to suffer wrong, Is there for me no pity, who am weak? Spare me this silence, speak! I did not know: I wronged you; I repent: But will you not relent? Must I still wander, outlawed, and go on The old weary ways alone, As in the old intolerable days Before I saw you face to face, The doubly darkened ways since you withdraw Your light, that was my law? I charge you by your soul, pause, ere you hurl Sheer to destruction, girl, A poor soul that had midway struggled out, Still midway clogged about, And for the love of you had turned his back Upon the miry track, That had been as a grassy wood-way, dim With violet-beds, to him. I wronged you, but I loved you; and to me Your love was purity; I rose, because you called me, and I drew Nearer to God, in you. I fall, and if you leave me, I must fall To that last depth of all, Where not the miracle of even your eyes Can bid the dead arise. I charge you that you save not your own sense Of lilied innocence, By setting, at the roots of that fair stem, A murdered thing, to nourish them.

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