Silverpoints by John Gray — Read

Grim visor'd cavalier! / Rides silently MISCHANCE. / Stabbed is my dying heart / of his unpitying lance. / My poor hearts blood leaps forth, / a single crimson jet. / The hot sun licks it up / where petals pale are wet. / Deep shadow seals my sight, / one shriek my lips has fed. / With a wrung, sullen shudder / my poor heart is dead. / The cavalier dismounts; / and, kneeling on the ground, / His finger iron-mailed / he thrusts into the wound. / Suddenly, at the freezing touch, / the iron smart, / At once within me bursts / a new, a noble heart. / Suddenly, as the steel / into the wound is pressed, / A heart all beautiful / and young throbs in my breast. / Trembling, incredulous / I sat; but ill at ease, / As one who, in a holy trance, / strange visions sees. / While the good cavalier, / remounted on his horse, / Left me a parting nod / as he retook his course, / And shouted to me / (still I hear his cries): / "Once only can the miracle / avail. -- Be wise!"