49.
’My name is Pestilence—this bosom
dry,
Once fed two babes—a sister and a brother—
When I came home, one in the blood did lie
Of three death-wounds—the flames had ate
the other! 2770
Since then I have no longer been a mother,
But I am Pestilence;—hither and thither
I flit about, that I may slay and smother:—
All lips which I have kissed must surely wither,
But Death’s—if thou art he, we’ll
go to work together! 2775
50.
’What seek’st thou here? The moonlight
comes in flashes,—
The dew is rising dankly from the dell—
’Twill moisten her! and thou shalt see the gashes
In my sweet boy, now full of worms—but
tell
First what thou seek’st.’—’I
seek for food.’—’’Tis
well, 2780
Thou shalt have food. Famine, my paramour,
Waits for us at the feast—cruel and fell
Is Famine, but he drives not from his door
Those whom these lips have kissed, alone. No
more, no more!’
51.
As thus she spake, she grasped me with the strength
2785
Of madness, and by many a ruined hearth
She led, and over many a corpse:—at length
We came to a lone hut where on the earth
Which made its floor, she in her ghastly mirth,
Gathering from all those homes now desolate,
2790
Had piled three heaps of loaves, making a dearth
Among the dead—round which she set in state
A ring of cold, stiff babes; silent and stark they
sate.
52.
She leaped upon a pile, and lifted high
Her mad looks to the lightning, and cried: ’Eat!
2795
Share the great feast—to-morrow we must
die!’
And then she spurned the loaves with her pale feet,
Towards her bloodless guests;—that sight
to meet,
Mine eyes and my heart ached, and but that she
Who loved me, did with absent looks defeat
2800
Despair, I might have raved in sympathy;
But now I took the food that woman offered me;
53.
And vainly having with her madness striven
If I might win her to return with me,
Departed. In the eastern beams of Heaven
2805
The lightning now grew pallid—rapidly,
As by the shore of the tempestuous sea
The dark steed bore me; and the mountain gray
Soon echoed to his hoofs, and I could see
Cythna among the rocks, where she alway
2810
Had sate with anxious eyes fixed on the lingering
day.
54.
And joy was ours to meet: she was most pale,
Famished, and wet and weary, so I cast
My arms around her, lest her steps should fail
As to our home we went, and thus embraced,
2815
Her full heart seemed a deeper joy to taste
Than e’er the prosperous know; the steed behind
Trod peacefully along the mountain waste;
We reached our home ere morning could unbind
Night’s latest veil, and on our bridal-couch
reclined. 2820