Rake-Hell Muses

Yes; since she knows not need,     Nor walks in blindness,     I may without unkindness     A true thing tell:     Which would be truth, indeed,     Though worse in speaking,     Were her poor footsteps seeking     A pauper's cell.     I judge, then, better far     She now have sorrow,     Than gladness that to-morrow     Might know its knell. -     It may be men there are     Could make of union     A lifelong sweet communion -     A passioned spell;     But I, to save her name     And bring salvation     By altar-affirmation     And bridal bell;     I, by whose rash unshame     These tears come to her:-     My faith would more undo her     Than my farewell!     Chained to me, year by year     My moody madness     Would wither her old gladness     Like famine fell.     She'll take the ill that's near,     And bear the blaming.     'Twill pass. Full soon her shaming     They'll cease to yell.     Our unborn, first her moan,     Will grow her guerdon,     Until from blot and burden     A joyance swell;     In that therein she'll own     My good part wholly,     My evil staining solely     My own vile vell.     Of the disgrace, may be     "He shunned to share it,     Being false," they'll say. I'll bear it;     Time will dispel     The calumny, and prove     This much about me,     That she lives best without me     Who would live well.     That, this once, not self-love     But good intention     Pleads that against convention     We two rebel.     For, is one moonlight dance,     One midnight passion,     A rock whereon to fashion     Life's citadel?     Prove they their power to prance     Life's miles together     From upper slope to nether     Who trip an ell?     - Years hence, or now apace,     May tongues be calling     News of my further falling     Sinward pell-mell:     Then this great good will grace     Our lives' division,     She's saved from more misprision     Though I plumb hell.