Rake-hell muses

Yes; since she knows not need,
&nbsp Nor walks in blindness,
I may without unkindness
&nbsp A true thing tell:

Which would be truth, indeed,
&nbspThough worse in speaking,
Were her poor footsteps seeking
&nbsp A pauper’s cell.

I judge, then, better far
&nbsp She now have sorrow,
Than gladness that to-morrow
&nbsp Might know its knell. -

It may be men there are
&nbsp Could make of union
A lifelong sweet communion -
&nbsp A passioned spell;

But I, to save her name
&nbsp And bring salvation
By altar-affirmation
&nbsp And bridal bell;

I, by whose rash unshame
&nbsp These tears come to her:-
My faith would more undo her
&nbsp Than my farewell!

Chained to me, year by year
&nbsp My moody madness
Would wither her old gladness
&nbsp Like famine fell.

She’ll take the ill that’s near,
&nbsp And bear the blaming.
‘Twill pass. Full soon her shaming
&nbsp They’ll cease to yell.

Our unborn, first her moan,
&nbsp Will grow her guerdon,
Until from blot and burden
&nbsp A joyance swell;

In that therein she’ll own
&nbsp My good part wholly,
My evil staining solely
&nbsp My own vile vell.

Of the disgrace, may be
&nbsp “He shunned to share it,
Being false,” they’ll say. I’ll bear it;
&nbsp Time will dispel

The calumny, and prove
&nbsp This much about me,
That she lives best without me
&nbsp Who would live well.

That, this once, not self-love
&nbsp But good intention
Pleads that against convention
&nbsp We two rebel.

For, is one moonlight dance,
&nbsp One midnight passion,
A rock whereon to fashion
&nbsp Life’s citadel?

Prove they their power to prance
&nbsp Life’s miles together
From upper slope to nether
&nbsp Who trip an ell?

- Years hence, or now apace,
&nbsp May tongues be calling
News of my further falling
&nbsp Sinward pell-mell:

Then this great good will grace
&nbspOur lives’ division,
She’s saved from more misprision
&nbsp Though I plumb hell.