orld to
be your betrothed. O Mary! adorable Virgin, why can I not be only five
years old--why could I not remain the child who pressed his lips to your
pictures? I would take you to my heart, I would lay you by my side, I
would clasp and kiss you like a friend--like a girl of my own age. Your
close hanging garments, your childish veil, your blue scarf--all that
youthfulness which makes you like an elder sister would be mine. I would
not try to kiss your locks, for hair is a naked thing which should
not be seen; but I would kiss your bare feet, one after the other, for
nights and nights together, until my lips should have shred the petals
of those golden roses, those mystical roses of our veins.'

He stopped, waiting for the Virgin to look down upon him and touch
his forehead with the edges of her veil. But she remained enwrapped
in muslin to her neck and finger-nails and ankles, so slim, so
etherealised, that she already seemed to be above earth, to be wholly
heaven's own.

'Well, then,' he went on more wildly still, 'grant that I become a child
again, O kindly Virgin! Virgin most powerful. Grant that I may be only
five years old. Rid me of my senses, rid me of my manhood. Let a miracle
sweep away all the man that has grown up within me. You reign in heaven,
nothing is easier to you than to change me, to rid me of all my strength
so that evermore I may be unable to raise my little finger without your
leave. I wish never more to feel either nerve, or muscle, or the beating
of my heart. I long to be simply a thing--a white stone at your feet,
on which you will leave but a perfume; a stone that will not move from
where you cast it, but will remain earless and eyeless, content to lie
beneath your heel, unable to think of foulness! Oh! then what bliss
for me! I shall reach without an effort and at a bound my dream of
perfection. I shall at last proclaim myself your true priest. I shall
become what all my studies, my prayers, my five years of initiation
have been unable to make me. Yes, I reject life; I say that the death of
mankind is better than abomination. Everything is stained; everywhere is
love tainted. Earth is steeped in impurity, whose slightest drops yield
growths of shame. But that I may be perfect, O Queen of angels, hearken
to my prayer, and grant it! Make me one of those angels that have only
two great wings behind their cheeks; I shall then no longer have a body,
no longer have any limbs; I will fly to you if