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George Meredith - Phantasy
Work rating: Low

I 

Within a Temple of the Toes, 
Where twirled the passionate Wili, 
I saw full many a market rose, 
And sighed for my village lily. 

         II 

With cynical Adrian then I took flight 
To that old dead city whose carol 
Bursts out like a reveller`s loud in the night, 
As he sits astride his barrel. 

         III 

We two were bound the Alps to scale, 
Up the rock-reflecting river; 
Old times blew thro` me like a gale, 
And kept my thoughts in a quiver. 

         IV 

Hawking ruin, wood-slope, and vine 
Reeled silver-laced under my vision, 
And into me passed, with the green-eyed wine 
Knocking hard at my head for admission. 

         V 

I held the village lily cheap, 
And the dream around her idle: 
Lo, quietly as I lay to sleep, 
The bells led me off to a bridal. 

         VI 

My bride wore the hood of a Beguine, 
And mine was the foot to falter; 
Three cowled monks, rat-eyed, were seen; 
The Cross was of bones o`er the altar. 

         VII 

The Cross was of bones; the priest that read, 
A spectacled necromancer: 
But at the fourth word, the bride I led 
Changed to an Opera dancer. 

         VIII 

A young ballet-beauty, who perked in her place, 
A darling of pink and spangles; 
One fair foot level with her face, 
And the hearts of men at her ankles. 

         IX 

She whirled, she twirled, the mock-priest grinned, 
And quickly his mask unriddled; 
`Twas Adrian! loud his old laughter dinned; 
Then he seized a fiddle, and fiddled. 

         X 

He fiddled, he glowed with the bottomless fire, 
Like Sathanas in feature: 
All through me he fiddled a wolfish desire 
To dance with that bright creature. 

         XI 

And gathering courage I said to my soul, 
Throttle the thing that hinders! 
When the three cowled monks, from black as coal, 
Waxed hot as furnace-cinders. 

         XII 

They caught her up, twirling: they leapt between-whiles: 
The fiddler flickered with laughter: 
Profanely they flew down the awful aisles, 
Where I went sliding after. 

         XIII 

Down the awful aisles, by the fretted walls, 
Beneath the Gothic arches:- 
King Skull in the black confessionals 
Sat rub-a-dub-dubbing his marches. 

         XIV 

Then the silent cold stone warriors frowned, 
The pictured saints strode forward: 
A whirlwind swept them from holy ground; 
A tempest puffed them nor`ward. 

         XV 

They shot through the great cathedral door; 
Like mallards they traversed ocean: 
And gazing below, on its boiling floor, 
I marked a horrid commotion. 

         XVI 

Down a forest`s long alleys they spun like tops: 
It seemed that for ages and ages, 
Thro` the Book of Life bereft of stops, 
They waltzed continuous pages. 

         XVII 

And ages after, scarce awake, 
And my blood with the fever fretting, 
I stood alone by a forest-lake, 
Whose shadows the moon were netting. 

         XVIII 

Lilies, golden and white, by the curls 
Of their broad flat leaves hung swaying. 
A wreath of languid twining girls 
Streamed upward, long locks disarraying. 

         XIX 

Their cheeks had the satin frost-glow of the moon; 
Their eyes the fire of Sirius. 
They circled, and droned a monotonous tune, 
Abandoned to love delirious. 

         XX 

Like lengths of convolvulus torn from the hedge, 
And trailing the highway over, 
The dreamy-eyed mistresses circled the sedge, 
And called for a lover, a lover! 

         XXI 

I sank, I rose through seas of eyes, 
In odorous swathes delicious: 
They fanned me with impetuous sighs, 
They hit me with kisses vicious. 

         XXII 

My ears were spelled, my neck was coiled, 
And I with their fury was glowing, 
When the marbly waters bubbled and boiled 
At a watery noise of crowing. 

         XXIII 

They dragged me low and low to the lake: 
Their kisses more stormily showered; 
On the emerald brink, in the white moon`s wake, 
An earthly damsel cowered. 

         XXIV 

Fresh heart-sobs shook her knitted hands 
Beneath a tiny suckling, 
As one by one of the doleful bands 
Dived like a fairy duckling. 

         XXV 

And now my turn had come—O me! 
What wisdom was mine that second! 
I dropped on the adorer`s knee; 
To that sweet figure I beckoned. 

         XXVI 

Save me! save me! for now I know 
The powers that Nature gave me, 
And the value of honest love I know:- 
My village lily! save me! 

         XXVII 

Come `twixt me and the sisterhood, 
While the passion-born phantoms are fleeing! 
Oh, he that is true to flesh and blood 
Is true to his own being! 

         XXVIII 

And he that is false to flesh and blood 
Is false to the star within him: 
And the mad and hungry sisterhood 
All under the tides shall win him! 

         XXIX 

My village lily! save me! save! 
For strength is with the holy:- 
Already I shuddered to feel the wave, 
As I kept sinking slowly:- 

         XXX 

I felt the cold wave and the under-tug 
Of the Brides, when—starting and shrinking - 
Lo, Adrian tilts the water-jug! 
And Bruges with morn is blinking. 

         XXXI 

Merrily sparkles sunny prime 
On gabled peak and arbour: 
Merrily rattles belfry-chime 
The song of Sevilla`s Barber.
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