Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/123

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SAINT MAURA.
111
And all the earth and air were full of eyes,Eyes, eyes, which scorched my limbs like burning flame,Until my brain seemed bursting from my brow:And yet no earthquake came! And then I knewThis body was not yours alone, but God's—His loan—He needed it: and after thatThe worst was come, and any torture moreA change—a lightening; and I did not shriek—Once only—once, when first I felt the whip—It coiled so keen around my side, and sentA fire-flash through my heart which choked me—thenI shrieked—that once. The foolish echo rangSo far and long—I prayed you might not hear.And then a mist, which hid the ring of eyes,Swam by me, and a murmur in my earsOf humming bees around the limes at home;And I was all alone with you and God.And what they did to me I hardly know;I felt, and did not feel. Now I look back,It was not after all so very sharp:
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