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…es Her body’s thirst of love. This night no dewfall from the blue !— Unless my Alice be the dew. This night—O never dawn shall crest The world of wakening, Because my lover has my breast On hers for dawn and spring. This night shall never be withdrawn— Unless my Alice be the dawn. 47
ALICE The roses of the world are sad, The water-lilies pale, Because my lover takes her lad Beneath the moonlight veil. No flower may bloom this happy hour— Unless my Alice be the flower. The stars are hidden in dark and mist, The moon and sun are dead, Because my love has caught and kissed My body in her bed. No light may shine this happy night— Unless my Alice be the light. 45
…plagiarisms in metre, form, and language; others as among the best and loveliest we have of any poet, living or dead. “ The roses of the world are sad ” and “ I have no heart to sing ” are, in my opinion, unsurpassed in any language. Their presence alone is sufficient apology for the publication of an otherwise objectionable book. G.K. xx
…azen abysses The leopard-coloured paw Strikes, and the cruel jaw Hides me in the glutless maw— Crown of ten blisses ! For all the vision world Is closed on me and curled Into the deep Of my slow soul, and hurled Through lampless lands, and furled, Sharp folds and steep : Till all unite in one, Seven planets in the sun, And I am deeplier done Into full sleep. 8
… calls me spouse, And takes me to her arms. This night no sound of breakers be !— Unless my Alice be the sea. Of man and maid in all the world Is stilled the swift caress, Because my lover has me curled In her own loveliness. No kiss be such a night as this !— Unless by Alice be the kiss. 46
…e sight grew dim before the sense Of blind attraction toward ; an influence Not incompatible with her own calm. All the red roses of the world were blended To give the lively colour of her face ; All the white lilies of the sea shone splendid Where the blue veins afforded them a space ; Like to the shapely fragrance of dawn’s shrine She gleamed through mist, enchanting, Erycine. 24
…m time to time by writers of what purports to be merely fiction. Of all the remarkable tales with which Mr. R. Kipling has delighted the world, none is more striking than that of McIntosh Jellaludin and his mysterious manuscript. And now, only a few years after reading that incredible tale, I myself, at Yokohama, come across a series of circum- stances wonderfully analogous. But I will truth- fully set down this history just as it all happened. I went one memorable Wednesday night to No. 29.* For my advent in this most reputable * Disinclinatio…
…In tune and time with the sea’s hymn below, Breathing in peace of love, mighty and holy, Fearing to fuse, and longing—be it so ! And the world’s pulse stops, as God bends him lowly To hear and know. . . . . . . . For not the heights of heaven shall exalt her Whose heart is full of love’s dumb deity, Nor harp-strings lift me, nor the sound of psalter, Whose love is merged and molten into thee, Nor incense sweeter be by shrine or altar For you and me. . . . . . . . But like dove’s eyes where glamour lies a-dwelling, Like sweet well-water rising i…
…f Athens. Our love takes on a tinge of melancholy, The six months glory of life past on earth About to yield to Hades’ bridal birth, The world’s sad sympathy with Persephone. Yet I myself, while tuning to her key My sighs of sorrow, mused in secret mirth : “ I am convinced at last of money’s worth, For lack of which she cannot cross the sea.” I told her, like a fool, a day too soon. She went and told her story to the priest ; She wept, and borrowed money of the beast. She told me she would go : June fell from June. I, left in limbo ; she, to fr…
THE SIXTEENTH DAY “ My chastity’s the jewel of our house Bequeathed down from many ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquy i’ th’ world For me to lose.” All’s Well. There was no secret cave of the wood’s womb Where we might kiss all day without a start Of fear that meant to stay and must depart, Nor any corner where the sea’s perfume Might shelter love in some wave-carven tomb. But Maytime shone in us ; with words of art I drew her down reluctant to my heart, When night was silence and my bed the gloom. So without sin we took strange sacrame…
THE FIFTIETH DAY Suffolk : “ If I depart from thee I cannot live. Margaret : “ let me hear from thee, For whereso’er thou art in this world’s globe I have an Iris that shall find thee out.” II. King Henry VI. At noon she sailed for home, a weeping bride Widowed before the honeymoon was done. Always before the rising of the sun I swore to come in spirit to her side And lie like love ; and she at eventide Swore to seek me and gather one by one The threads of labyrinthine love new spun, Cretan for monstrous shadows serpent-eyed. So the last kiss p…
…ing him again ; he was alone when he started. Let us not too bitterly lament ! He would hate him who would “ upon the rack of this tough world stretch him out longer.” x
…e sense or rhythm. I attempt neither eulogy nor criticism here. Indeed, it seems to me entirely uncalled for. His words were : “ Let the world know how wonderful it was,” that is, his love xi
…and filled with an eternal inner laughter. We have heard what a woman he married in the end. Our poet is one of the most annoying in the world. His fiftieth day is an outrage on mankind in its sudden and hideous close. He himself feels it, and writes the two following sonnets to discuss (and so to modify) the hateful impression. But through pig-headedness, or in very despair, he leaves the detestable fact standing, the very instant after the lovers part, as ugly and mean a summary of the whole affair as it is possible to imagine. Of the bad tas…
… for the tawdry gems of style when the breast they would adorn is that of a breathing, living beauty of man’s love, the heart of all the world. Nor let us taint one sympathy with even a shadow of regret. Let us leave him where “ Sight nor sound shall war against him more, For whom all winds are quiet as the sun, All waters as the shore.” NOTE.—The sudden and tragic death of the Editor has necessitated the completion of his task by another hand. The introduction was, however, in practically its present form. xii
…ophical Doctrines of Evolution (4th day), and yet also in existence of Gods.* 8th day.—He calls his island “ the extreme west of all the world.” 16th day.—“ Alice ” had a husband living (where is mentioned in 48th day, but not printed now) and a boy was travelling with her. 22nd day.—There is a talk of going to Japan. *I have asked Sri Abhavananda, the eminent European Buddhist, and he is quite clear that the author has practi- cally no knowledge of true Buddhism, and less than no claim to describe himself as an adherent. See Day the 38th. xvi
…” He turned to the wall and sought a bundle of old writing on a shelf. “ Take this,” he said. “ Edit it as if it were your own : let the world know how wonderful it was.” I took the manu- script from the frail, white hand. viii