Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 4 — The Image in the Glass
I
The slow reflection of a woman's face Grew, as by witchcraft, in the oval space Of that strange glass on which the moon looked in:-- As cruel as death beneath the auburn hair The dark eyes burned; and, o'er the faultless chin,-- Evil as night, yet as the daybreak fair,-- Rose-red and sensual smiled the mouth of sin.
II
The glorious throat and shoulders and, twin crests Of snow, the splendid beauty of the breasts, Filled soul and body with the old desire.
-- Daughter of darkness!
how could this thing be?
You, whom I loathed!
for whom my heart's fierce fire Had burnt to ashes of satiety!
You, who had sunk my soul in crime's red mire!
III
How came your image there?
and in that room!
Where she, the all-adored, my life's sweet bloom, Died poisoned!
She, my scarcely one week's bride-- Yes, poisoned by a gift you sent to her, Thinking her death would win me to your side.
It won me; yes!
but....
Well, it made some stir-- By your own hand, I think, they said you died.
IV
Time passed.
And then--was it the curse of crime, That night of nights, which forced my feet to climb To that locked bridal-room?
--'Twas midnight when A longing, like to madness, mastered me, Compelled me to that chamber, which for ten Long years was sealed: a dark necessity To gaze upon--I knew not what again.
V
Love's ghost, perhaps.
Or, in the curvature Of that orbed mirror, something that might cure The ache in me--some message, said perchance Of her dead loveliness,--which once it glassed,-- That might repeat again my lost romance In momentary pictures of the past, While in its depths her image swam in trance.
VI
I did not dream to see the soulless eyes Of _you_ I hated; nor the lips where lies And kisses curled: _your_ features,--that were tuned To all demonic,--smiling up as might Some deep damnation!
while ...
my God!
I swooned!...
Oozed slowly out, between the breasts' dead white, The ghastly red of that wide dagger-wound.
THE LEGEND OF THE STONE
