MAE MADDEN

     The wheel of fortune guide you,
     The boy with the bow beside you
     Run aye in the way, till the dawn of day
     And a luckier lot betide you.

     Ben Jonson.

     I.

     We two had been parted, God pity us, when
     The stars were unnamed and when heaven was dim;
     We two had been parted far back on the rim
     And the outermost border of heaven's red bars:
     We two had been parted ere the meeting of men
     Or God had set compass on spaces as yet.
     We two had been parted ere God had set
     His finger to spinning the spaces with stars,—
     And now, at the last in the gold and set
     Of the sun of Venice, we two had met.

     II.

     Where the lion of Venice, with brows afrown,
     With tossed mane tumbled, and teeth in air,
     Looks out in his watch o'er the watery town,
     With a paw half lifted, with his claws half bare,
     By the blue Adriatic, in the edge of the sea,
     I saw her.  I knew her, but she knew not me.
     I had found her at last!  Why, I had sailed
     The antipodes through, had sought, had hailed
     All flags, had climbed where the storm clouds curled,
     And called from the awful arched dome of the world.

     III.

     I saw her one moment, then fell back abashed
     And filled full to the throat. . . .  Then I turned me once more
     So glad to the sea, while the level sun flashed
     On the far, snowy Alps. . . .  Her breast!  Why, her breast
     Was white as twin pillows that allure you to rest;
     Her sloping limbs moved like to melodies, told
     As she rose from the sea, and she threw back the gold
     Of her glory of hair, and set face to the shore. . . .
     I knew her!  I knew her, though we had not met
     Since the far stars sang to the sun's first set.

     IV.

     How long I had sought her!  I had hungered, nor ate
     Of any sweet fruits.  I had tasted not one
     Of all the fair glories grown under the sun.
     I had sought only her.  Yea, I knew that she
     Had come upon earth and stood waiting for me
     Somewhere by my way.  But the path ways of fate
     They had led otherwhere.  The round world round,
     The far North seas and the near profound
     Had failed me for aye.  Now I stood by that sea
     While a ship drove by, and all dreamily.

     V.

     I had turned from the lion a time, and when
     I looked tow'rd the tide and out on the lea
     Of the town where the warm sea tumbled and teemed
     With beauty, I saw her.  I knew her then,
     The tallest, the fairest fair daughter of men.
     O, Venice stood full in her glory.  She gleamed
     In the splendor of sunset and sensuous sea;
     Yet I saw but my bride, my affinity,
     While the doves hurried home to the dome of Saint Mark
     And the brass horses plunged their high manes in the dark,

     VI.

     Was it well with my love?  Was she true?  Was she brave
     With virtue's own valor?  Was she waiting for me?
     O, how fared my love!  Had she home?  Had she bread?
     Had she known but the touch of the warm-tempered wave?
     Was she born upon earth with a crown on her head;
     Or born like myself, but a dreamer, instead?
     So long it had been!  So long!  Why the sea,
     That wrinkled and surly old time-tempered slave,
     Had been born, had his revels, grown wrinkled and hoar
     Since I last saw my love on that uttermost shore.

     VII.

     O, how fared my love?  Once I lifted my face
     And I shook back my hair and looked out on the sea;
     I pressed my hot palms as I stood in my place
     And cried, "O, I come like a king to your side
     Though all hell intervene." . . .  "Hist! she may be a bride!
     A mother at peace, with sweet babes on her knee!
     A babe at her breast and a spouse at her side! . . .
     Have I wandered too long, and