Chapter III
How Love Looked for Hell
“To heal his heart of long-time painOne day Prince Love for to travel was fainWith Ministers Mind and Sense.`Now what to thee most strange may be?’Quoth Mind and Sense. `All things above,One curious thing I first would see—Hell,’ quoth Love.
“Then Mind rode in and Sense rode out:They searched the ways of man about.First frightfully groaneth Sense.`’Tis here, ’tis here,’ and spurreth in fearTo the top of the hill that hangeth aboveAnd plucketh the Prince: `Come, come, ’tis here—‘`Where?’ quoth Love—
“`Not far, not far,’ said shivering SenseAs they rode on. `A short way hence,—But seventy paces hence:Look, King, dost see where suddenlyThis road doth dip from the height above?Cold blew a mouldy wind by me’(`Cold?’ quoth Love)
“`As I rode down, and the River was black,And yon-side, lo! an endless wrackAnd rabble of souls,’ sighed Sense,`Their eyes upturned and begged and burnedIn brimstone lakes, and a Hand aboveBeat back the hands that upward yearned—‘`Nay!’ quoth Love—
“`Yea, yea, sweet Prince; thyself shalt see,Wilt thou but down this slope with me;’Tis palpable,’ whispered Sense.—At the foot of the hill a living rillShone, and the lilies shone white above;`But now ’twas black, ’twas a river, this rill,’(`Black?’ quoth Love)
“`Ay, black, but lo! the lilies grow,And yon-side where was woe, was woe,—Where the rabble of souls,’ cried Sense,`Did shrivel and turn and beg and burn,Thrust back in the brimstone from above—Is banked of violet, rose, and fern:’`How?’ quoth Love:
“`For lakes of pain, yon pleasant plainOf woods and grass and yellow grainDoth ravish the soul and sense:And never a sigh beneath the sky,And folk that smile and gaze above—‘`But saw’st thou here, with thine own eye,Hell?’ quoth Love.
“`I saw true hell with mine own eye,True hell, or light hath told a lie,True, verily,’ quoth stout Sense.Then Love rode round and searched the ground,The caves below, the hills above;`But I cannot find where thou hast foundHell,’ quoth Love.
“There, while they stood in a green woodAnd marvelled still on Ill and Good,Came suddenly Minister Mind.`In the heart of sin doth hell begin:’Tis not below, ’tis not above,It lieth within, it lieth within:’(`Where?’ quoth Love)
“`I saw a man sit by a corse; `Hell’s in the murderer’s breast: remorse!’ Thus clamored his mind to his mind: Not fleshly dole is the sinner’s goal, Hell’s not below, nor yet above, ’Tis fixed in the ever-damned soul—‘ `Fixed?’ quoth Love—
“`Fixed: follow me, would’st thou but see:He weepeth under yon willow tree,Fast chained to his corse,’ quoth Mind.Full soon they passed, for they rode fast,Where the piteous willow bent above.`Now shall I see at last, at last,Hell,’ quoth Love.
“There when they came Mind suffered shame:`These be the same and not the same,’A-wondering whispered Mind.Lo, face by face two spirits paceWhere the blissful willow waves above:One saith: `Do me a friendly grace—‘(`Grace!’ quoth Love)
“`Read me two Dreams that linger long,Dim as returns of old-time songThat flicker about the mind.I dreamed (how deep in mortal sleep!)I struck thee dead, then stood above,With tears that none but dreamers weep;’`Dreams,’ quoth Love;
“`In dreams, again, I plucked a flowerThat clung with pain and stung with power,Yea, nettled me, body and mind.’`’Twas the nettle of sin, ’twas medicine;No need nor seed of it here Above;In dreams of hate true loves begin.’`True,’ quoth Love.
“`Now strange,’ quoth Sense, and `Strange,’ quoth Mind,`We saw it, and yet ’tis hard to find,—But we saw it,’ quoth Sense and Mind.Stretched on the ground, beautiful-crownedOf the piteous willow that wreathed above,`But I cannot find where ye have foundHell,’ quoth Love.”
Baltimore, 1878–9.