Canto 14My life is wasted
Book 2. Part Two - Baroda Circa 1898 – 1902
Baroda, c. 1898–1902
O letter dull and cold
O letter dull and cold, how can she read
Gladly these lifeless lines, no fire that prove,
5When others even their passionate hearts exceed
Caressing her sweet name with words of love?
O me that I could force this barrier, turn
My heart to syllables, make all desire
One burning word, then would my letters yearn
10With some reflection of that hidden fire.
Ah if I could, what then? This fiery pit
Within for human eyes was never meant.
All hearts would view with horror or with hate
A picture not of earthly lineament.
15Yourself even, sweet, would start with terror back
As at the hissing of a sudden snake.
My life is wasted
My life is wasted like a lamp ablaze
Within a solitary house unused,
20My life is wasted and by Love men praise
For sweet and kind. How often have I mused
What lovely thing were love and much repined
At my cold bosom moved not by that flame.
’Tis kindled; lo, my dreadful being twined
25Round one whom to myself I dare not name.
I cannot quench the fire I did not light
And he that lit it will not; I cannot even
Drive out the guest I never did invite;
Although the soul he dwells with loses heaven.
30I burn and know not why; I sink to hell
Fruitlessly and am forbidden to rebel.