THE
LOOKING -GLASS
43
From the white inexhaustible quiver ,
Smote us right through ,
Smote us and slew ,
As we rode
on the rapturous river .
Sweet sleep
is perfection of love .
To die into dreams of my lover ,
To wake with his mouth
like a dove
Kissing
me over and over !
Better sleep so
Than be conscious , and know
How
death
hath a charm to discover . 1
But not until
we read “
The Eyes of Pharaoh
" do
we read
one
of
the
most
astounding
paintings
in
words , I make bold to say , that has ever been written
in any language :
And death's
insufferable perfume
Beat the black air with golden fans
As Turkis
rip a Nubian's womb
With damascenéd yataghans . ?
This one astonishing
verse upsets the equilibrium
of
the whole poem , as it would
of any poem ; for if the
remaining
thirteen had been
penned
in an equivalent
vividness of colouring , the effect would
have
been one
of complete overpowerment
rather than of a sudden
and dizzy joy .
As
the
aristocratic
virtues
of one
century become
the
democratic
vices
of
the
next ,
so
do the noble
renderings
of one age of literature
become
the hack
neyed
phraseology
of
the following , this being true
whether we are speaking of poetry or prose . Yet one
attribute alone remains ever youthful
as the ages roll
by into the aeons , and that is-Ecstasy
; whether we
| Gargoyles , vol.
iii,
p
.
94
.
2
Ibid
.
vol
.
iii,
p
.
100
.