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Page 1 of 11907 · PDF PAGE 38
CARYATIDE HALL beauty avail thee, Caryatid, crouched, crushed by the weight of a world of woe? By birthright the burden is thine: on thy shoulders the sorrow hath slid From the hand of the Healer: behold, in the steady, continuous throe, Shall beauty avail thee, Caryatid? Thou wast proud of thy beauty: the burden of beauty was hid From thy eyes: how is’t now with thee, now? By the sweat dropping slow From the brows of thy anguish, we see what the weight of it did To the patient despair of the brain. Shall no God strike a blow? Shall no hero be …
1907 · PDF PAGE 34
…nd down the head that once was blithe and fair. Embattled toward the ancient armouress Age and despair! Where is the force of youth? The beauty where? What two-edged memory of some lost caress Lurks in the sorrowful pose and lingers there ? O melancholy mother! Sorceress, No more enchantress! What the harvest rare Sprung from the seed of youth and happiness? Age and despair. 20
1907 · PDF PAGE 25
…plicity, The Celtic subtlety. Through suffering free, The calm great courage of new art, refined In nervous majesty, indwells behind The beauty of each radiant harmony. Titan! the little centuries drop back, Back from the contemplation. Stand and span With one great grip his cup, the Zodiac! Distil from all time’s art his wine, the truth! Drink, drink the mighty health—an age’s youth— Salut, Auguste Rodin! Here is a man. 11
1907 · PDF PAGE 75
… into sudden shape of maidenhood, Hast thou thy father’s anguish all forgotten? Hast thou a balm, who hast hardly understood? Is not thy beauty for his comfort moulded, Thy joy and purity his won reward ? Sweet blush of blood, pale blossom lightly folded, To thee did he carve his way by right of sword ? Thou who art all delight to all of us, Hast thou no special intimate caress For him whose bloody sweat stood murderous On the writhen brow, the bosom of distress ? Ay! for his anguish thou art gain enough— One thought, worth all Earth’s fame, an…
1907 · PDF PAGE 102
SOCRATE (L’'HOMME AU NEZ CASSE) ONSUMMATE beauty built of ugliness, O broken-nose philosopher, is thine. Diamonds are deepest in the blue-mud mine; So is the secret of thy strong success Daemonic-glittering through the wear and stress Of tortured feature; virtue’s soul doth shine, Genius and wisdom in the force divine That fills thy face; magnificence! no less. Ay! thou shalt drink the hemlock; thou shalt suffer And die for self respect, for love of others! To-day are men indissolubly brothers? Is my life smoother than the Greek’s or rougher? T…