Poetic Divination
“Forgiveness” by Muriel Stuart
Ask not my pardon! For if one hath need
Once to forgive the god that he hath raised,
No further creed
Can that god give; but ‘neath the soul who praised
Lies bruisèd like a reed.
Let your dark plume, in passing leave a stain
On my plume’s whiteness: call you bitter, sweet:
Give plague, or pain:
But cringe not, fallen and fawning at my feet,
By that to rise again.
No! go your wild and mad way, and seem at least
The god you were . . . assume your aureole:
Make me no priest
To wash hands in the waters of your soul,
Before I go to feast!