Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/57

⁠He struck his breast, and woke amazed, and looked
On the lone Roamer and the quiet stars.
But, soon recovered, wondering he spoke,
And gentle was his mien though hard his speech,
And eased with pity fell the words, half scorn:
⁠"Deignest thou yet to wear the bloody doom,
That manacled in flesh thou comest here?
Strip off, strip off, and let the soul go free!"
⁠The rich tones, haunted with unmating love,
Ceased; nearer now, o'er-bent, the fair young face,
As in clairvoyant Aprils of the boy,
With sudden wistful changes softening,
Sweetened with such a look as lights all years,
When soul on soul pours intimate its might,
And well the Roamer knew that great appeal.
O love-starved heart, how gnawed thy hunger then!
Fain was he to embrace him, found at last;
He would have sprung, and fallen upon his youth,
Breast upon breast, and head to head laid close,
So was he inly moved with sudden trust;
But in his soul he stayed, nor tore life's veil
Between them, answering, "Nature's mould I wear,

Nor yet of her dear motherhood bereft."