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…n a silken kiss, And I will whisper to my rose The secret name of Artemis. Words were not needed then : to-day Must I begin what never I thought To do: mould flowers in common clay? Mud casket of mere words is nought, When by love’s miracle we guess What either always thinketh. Yes? 63
…school The little care that lovers need? For see—I bite my lip to blood ; A stifled word of anguish hisses :— O the black word that dams thought’s flood! O the bad lip that looked for kisses! O the poor fool that prates of love! Is it a garter, or a glove? II
…me of eyes? One word—that word. Be destiny’s Inviolate fiat rolled athwart The clouds and cobwebs of our speech, And image, integrate of thought, This ebony anthem, each to each :-— To lie, invulnerable, alone, Valkyrie and hero, in the zone, Shielded by lightnings of our wit, Guarded by fires of intellect Far on the mountain-top, elect Of all the hills divinely lit By rays of moonrise! O the moon! O the interminable tune Of whispered kisses! Love exults, Intolerant of all else than he, 15
…t, so sit, my love and I. But not to-day. Your silence stirs No answering rapture : you are proud, And love itself checks and deters The thought to say itself aloud. B 9
…y, and dinner and—what else ?— However unlike, coincide In composition verified Of final protoplasmic cells. Shall this avail to stagger thought, Confuse the reason, bring to nought The rosebud, in reflecting: Hem! What beauty hath the flower and stem? Carbon we know, and nitrogen, And oxygen—are these a rose? But this though everybody knows, That this should be the same for men They know not. Death may decompose, 50
…r dress, With broidery of old gold. Her hair Was long and starry, gilded red. Her face was laughter, shapen fair By the sweet things she thought and said. Her whiteness rustled as she walked. Her hair sang tunes across the air. She sighed, laughed, whispered, never talked. She smiled, and loves devout and rare Flickered about the room. She stayed Still in the dusk : her body sang Out full and clear “‘O love me!” Rang The silver couplets undismayed, Bright, bold, convincing. In her eyes 42
IX WILL you not come: the unequal fever Of Paris hold our lives for ever? Were it not better to exceed The avenging thought, the unmeaning deed, Make one strong act at least ? How small, How idiot our lives! These folk That think they live—which dares at all To act? The suicide that broke His chain, and lies so waxen pale In the Morgue to-day? Did he then fail ? Ay, he was beaten. But to live, Slink on through what the world can give, That is a hound’s life too. For me, The suicide stands grand and free Besides these others. Was it fear Drove h…
… itself. But should The lesser leave me, as it might ; The lesser never touch you; would Your will be one with my delight? Leave all the thoughts and miseries ! Invade the glowing fields of sun! Cross bleak inhospitable seas, Until this hour be past and done, And we in some congenial clime Are then reborn, where danger’s nought To mock the old Parisian time When fear was still the child of thought! So we could love, and love, and fate 65
…er lose If through the quartz he gets to gold? Yes: Nina was a thing of nought, A little laughing lewd gamine, Idle and vicious, void of thought, Easy, impertinent, unclean— Utterly charming! Yes, my queen! She had a generous baby soul, Prattled of love. Should I control, Repress perhaps the best instinct The child had ever had? I winked At foolish neighbours, did not shirk. Such café Turc I made her drink As she had never had before; Set her where you are sitting ; chatted ; 46