The Star and the Garter

The will to live : and these frail friends, The women I shall draw you, fail Of more importance to earth’s ends Than to my life a finger-nail. ’Twere pain, no doubt, were torn away One, a minute distemperature. I spend a fraction of the day Plying the art of manicure. But always beats the heart: the more I polish, tint, or carve, I ask Strength from the heart’s too generous store To bend my fingers to the task. Cease : I am broken: nought remains. The brain’s electric waves are still ; No blood beats eager in the veins; The mind sinks deathward, and the will. It is no figure of boy’s speech, Lover's enthusiasm, rhyme Magniloquent of bard, to reach Truth through the husk of space and time: No truth is more devout than this : “In you I live: I live in you.” Had Latmos not known Artemis, Where were the faint lights of that dew Of Keats? O maiden moon of mine, Imperial crescent, rise and shine! 36