第54部分 (第3/7頁)
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Christ; for him who could hold her to his breast and lose her
there。 Oh; for the breast of man; where she should have refuge
and bliss for ever! All her senses quivered with passionate
yearning。
Vaguely she knew that Christ meant something else: that in
the vision…world He spoke of Jerusalem; something that did not
exist in the everyday world。 It was not houses and factories He
would hold in His bosom: nor householders nor factory…workers
nor poor people: but something that had no part in the weekday
world; nor seen nor touched with weekday hands and eyes。
Yet she must have it in weekday terms……she must。
For all her life was a weekday life; now; this was the whole。 So
he must gather her body to his breast; that was strong with a
broad bone; and which sounded with the beating of the heart; and
which was warm with the life of which she partook; the life of
the running blood。
So she craved for the breast of the Son of Man; to lie there。
And she was ashamed in her soul; ashamed。 For whereas Christ
spoke for the Vision to answer; she answered from the weekday
fact。 It was a betrayal; a transference of meaning; from the
vision world; to the matter…of…fact world。 So she was ashamed of
her religious ecstasy; and dreaded lest any one should see
it。
Early in the year; when the lambs came; and shelters were
built of straw; and on her uncle's farm the men sat at night
with a lantern and a dog; then again there swept over her this
passionate confusion between the vision world and the weekday
world。 Again she felt Jesus in the countryside。 Ah; he would
lift up the lambs in his arms! Ah