V 
 
 
F you were with me, I were blind to this : 
  Ready to drain my arteries for your kiss, 
Feel your grasp tighten round my ribs until 
You crush me in the ecstasies that kill. 
Being away and breathing icy air 
I am half lover, caring not to care ; 
Half-man again—a mere terrestrial ball 
Thus breaking up a spiritual thrall— 
Eh, my philosophers ?—half-man may yet determine 
To get back manhood, shake the tree from bats : 
To change the trope a shade—get rid of vermin 
By using William Shakespeare’s “ Rough on Rats.” 
 
VI 
 
 
H, love, dear love, sole queen of my affection, 
  Guess you not yet what wheel of thought is spun ? 
How out of dawn’s tumultuous dejection 
And not from noon springs up the splendid sun ? 
Not till the house is swept and garnished well 
Rises seven other devils out of hell. 
 
 
5 
I 
A