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Coprolite less than chrysolite, Flowers fairer than their food, the ground ; We knew our destiny, saw how Man’s fate is written on his brow, And how our love throughout was hewn And masked and moulded by the moon. 62
Never clang brutal on the gong, And lunch, man-eating tiger, wait Crouched in the jungles of my song; My gaze be steadfast on the star And never to the garter glide, And I on rapture’s nenuphar Sit Buddha-like above the tide.
…laugh, The girls of Askalon rejoice, Writing for us this epitaph : “They chose, and were not worth the choice” ? You are so pure: I am a man. I will assume the courage tried Of yonder luckless suicide, And you—awaken, if you can, The courage of the courtezan ! 24
…rters heralded ‘Thy Hawless solitary star: ‘A million garters shall bested ‘The poer's turn, when, lone and far, All are dismissed: Some man, low brute, Cry “Shame, O star that would not shoot, ‘And yet went out!” But I, my dear, (Good-bye!) get neither shriek nor groan : Kiss, curse, cat’s hiss, I shall not hear, ‘My dear, for I shall be alone. im
…te flower (of all the flowers) You ever cared for! Ignorance May set its puppets up to dance ; We know who pulls the strings. No sage; A man unwashed, the bearded brute! His wife, the mother-prostitute ! Behind the marionetted stage See the true Punch-and-Judy show, Turn copper so to silver! Know, And who can help forgiving? So 13
XXIX So, love, not thus for you and me! And if I am man, no more, expect I shall remain so, till, maybe, The anatomist, old Time, dissect Me, nerve from flesh, and bone from bone, And raise me spiritual, changed In all but love for you, my own; The little matter rearranged, The little mind refigured. This Alone I hope or think to keep :— The love I bear you, and the kiss Too soft to call the breath of sleep. And, if you are woman, even there I do decline : we stand above. I ask not, and will take no share With you in what mankind call love. We …
…son to believe exists, 1 append this simple personal explanation ; let it serve, moreover, as the hors josneto anew feast, For it is not manifest that who wrote so much srhen all was mystery, should write yet more now all is clear? It is perhaps Jue to you, the bedrock of my mountains of idealism, that I attained the tayial force to make all those dreams come true: for that, then, this. should Nietzsche play you false, and supply no key to this Joseph ‘confection; akid glove and an ortolan are alike to him—and, if this bea huggis, much more is …