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… blot out all feeling from me for evermore. SIR PERCY aside. How she speaks ! It is indeed an angel singing. (Aloud.) Indeed, I read too far. ANGELA. Pity me ! SIR PERCY. Dear lady, the joy to know, and so perfectly to express such love is enough. ANGELA. You mock me ! That girl — do you in truth love her ? She is most beautiful.
…E. Dear, dear ! That’s bad, bad, bad. There, there, no doubt we shall be able to do something. MOLLY. My father thinks it is worse — oh, far worse ! I am to go away into service — oh ! oh ! GLENSTRAE. And so you shall, my dear, so you shall. Come and live with my wife as her companion, and we will try and find your lover for you. No doubt the arts of this — er — designing
…shame... LADY GLENSTRAE. Take her away. Less light ! GLENSTRAE. Ha ! Ha ! SIR PERCY. I cannot see your humour, Glenstrae — forgive me so far ! And to tell the truth of it, I can do nothing and care to do less. GLENSTRAE. Come, Molly ! MOLLY. Must I, must I ? Oh, sir, have pity ! GLENSTRAE. A bargain’s a bargain — but there ! there ! — what are you growling at ? A thousand a year and a flat in Mayfair is better than farmer Tyson’s butter and eggs.
…RE-GOER. No, I tell you — try Liverpool Street ! Curtain. What follows is strictly by request in the interest of ‘ healthy optimism’. So far my pen has touched with vivid truth The constant story of the eternal struggle Of age and sense with flatulence and youth. Now — see the venal poet start to juggle ! Young ladies, you desire to see a comedy ! The poet’s master pen shall twist the river Of song into a simple to-and-from eddy. And you shall laugh where once you feared to shiver. So listen to the happy termination Of this apparently so sad re…
…much prefer — that is, mere I — Solitude to Society. And that is why I sit and spoil So much clean paper with such toil By Kandy Lake in far Ceylon. I have my old pyjamas on : I shake my soles from Britain’s dust : I shall not go there till I must ; And when I must — ah, you suppose Even I must ! — I hold my nose. Farewell, you filthy-minded people ! I know a stable from a steeple. Farewell, my decent-minded friends ! I know arc lights from candle-ends.
…refaction of America, the lonely volcanoes of Mexico, the everlasting furnace sands of Egypt — all these have known me. Travel thou thus far, thou also ! Somewhat shall thou learn ! But otherwise ; gird on thine armour for thy Christ, o champion of the dying faith in a man dead ! Arm ! arm, and out ; for the young warrior of a new religion is upon thee ; and his number is the number of a man. אלהיסטהרהקרעולהי I. “ I promise Mr. Chesterton / A grand ap-pre-ci-a-ti-on / Of Brixton on Ascen- sion Day ”. The Sword of Song.
…decent rest by Kandy Lake. I invoke the urgent elemental powers To bring all to an end for Buddha’s sake. I must bid all ye matrons fond farewell, Knowing your inmost thoughts ; that, had ye dared, Ye would be just as far en route for hell As Angela, the gentle Lady Baird ; And all ye youths, aware that Percy’s fall Is something to be envied of ye all ; And all ye parsons, seeing that ye pray Your Father for the Luck of Lord Glenstrae. Enough of this ! Insistent Fates Bid me return to rhyming 8 s. I say what I have seen ill done In honest clean…
…er vacantly. A week, and he would see no more ! His lady long had gone — O Lor’ ! I hear ‘ St. Agnes’ Eve ’ suggest To this 8’s better a far best ; Spenserian solemnity Fits this part of my minstrelsy. Now is the breath of winter in the hall. The logs die out — the knight would be alone ! The brave Sir Percival de Percivale Sits like an image hewen out of stone. Ay ! he must die. The doctors all are gone, And he must follow to the dusk abode, The solemn place inscrutable, unknown, Meeting no mortal on that crowded road ; All swift in the one co…
… peace, The wide dominion of the wan Abyss of air. I can look out and see Beyond the stars, black seas Wherein no star may swim, Thence, far beyond the vast revolving spheres
…Watts, and the Devil and all his angels. While נחש and משיח alike add to 358, indeed, it is no odds : did you once see this you were not far off from the Heart of the Qabalah. The occasion of this letter is the insertion of a scene equi- valent to an “ appreciation of the Brixton Chapel ” in my masterpiece “ Why Jesus Wept.” You asked me for it ;