The
sullen wind was soon awake,
It
tore the elm-tops down for spit,
And
did its worst to vex the lake:1
I
listened with heart fit to break.
When
glided in Porphyria; straight
She
shut the cold out and the storm,
And
kneeled and made the cheerless grate
Blaze
up, and all the cottage warm;2
Which
done, she rose, and from her form
Withdrew
the dripping cloak and shawl,
And
laid her soiled gloves by, untied
Her
hat and let the damp hair fall,3
And,
last, she sat down by my side
And
called me. When no voice replied,
She
put my arm about her waist,
And
made her smooth white shoulder bare,
And
all her yellow hair displaced,4
And,
stooping, made my cheek lie there,
And
spread, o’er all, her yellow hair,
Murmuring
how she loved me – she
Too
weak, for all her heart’s endeavour,
To
set its struggling passion free5
From
pride, and vainer ties dissever,
And
give herself to me for ever.6
But
passion sometimes would prevail,
Nor
could tonight’s gay feast restrain
A
sudden thought of one so pale7
For
love of her, and all in vain:8
So,
she was come through wind and rain.
Be
sure I looked up at her eyes
Happy
and proud; at last I knew
Porphyria9
worshipped me; surprise
Made
my heart swell and still it grew
While
I debated what to do.
That
moment she was mine, mine, fair,
Perfectly
pure and good:10I found
A
thing to do, and all her hair
In
one long yellow string I wound
Three
times her little throat around,
And
strangled her. No pain felt she;
I am
quite sure she felt no pain.11
As a
shut bud that holds a bee,
I
warily oped her
lids: again
Laughed
the blue eyes without a stain.
And I
untightened next the tress
About
her neck; her cheek once more
Blushed
bright beneath my burning kiss:12
I
propped her head up as before,
Only,
this time my shoulder bore
Her
head, which droops upon it still:13
The
smiling rosy little head
So
glad it has its utmost will,
That
all it scorned at once is fled,
And
I, its love, am gained instead!14
Porphyria’s
love: she guessed not how
Her
darling one wish would be heard.
And
thus we sit together now,
And
all night long we have not stirred,
And
yet God has not said a word!15
-1836


