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…Nothing at all to thee, Who sang thee when no other man would sing thee, Who brought unto thee all that he could bring thee. Night, that art mother of our quietness, Who bendest deep, dark eyes o’er our distress, In thee shall sleep his ashes ; let him lie Alone under the sky, Nor wake again : He hath paid for his life with his pain. He oweth naught Unto the universe, 149
…and flee A volunteer brigade Of Greeks, Armenians, and Jews With all to loot, and naught to lose. He failed to ogle men, but learnt ‘The art of bilking whores :— ‘The Turks, who should have had him burnt, But threw him out of doors. 19
…merald green. The Dagger. Let the Zelator take a piece of pure steel, and beat it, grind it, sharpen it, and polish it, according to the art of the swordsmith. Let him further take a piece of oak wood, and carve a hilt. The length shall be eight inches. IV B 17
…merald green. The Dagger. Let the Zelator take a piece of pure steel, and beat it, grind it, sharpen it, and polish it, according to the art of the swordsmith. Let him further take a piece of oak wood, and carve a hilt. The length shall be eight inches. IV B 17
…and a prayer, and the soul of its act as its word Is of them that were Two to make One, and to seal the Event with a Third. Oh, Love, Astarte sea-born, oh Star blue bright in the West, I invoke thee, thy priest in the shrine that is built of my blood in my breast! Since thou art in me and of me, since thou art the heart of my heart, The soul of my soul, nay, the skin of my skin, not a being apart, I am thou, I accept the intent, acquiesce in the nature implied; If change be the purpose of Love, I am launched and afloat on the tide. I accept eve…
…rvellous! So, you say, she is a witch Seeking to rob or trick you of your power? VENUS. Isayso? No! Idare not! Oh forbear! TANNHAUSER (starts up). There, there She comes in waking! Hail to Thee ! I am afraid, I also, I myself! Help! lover, Venus, mistress of my life ! I cannot bear the glory of the gaze. No man shall look upon the face of God! Where art thou? Save me from scorpion ! 1 I am—alone ! the HATHOOR. Light, Truth, arise, arise ! TANNHAUSER. All blinded by the Light— Life, the I see—I see ! Thou art the Way, the Truti. Love ! Thou, Who…
28 THE MOTHER'S TRAGEDY MADELINE. O Heart of Jesus! Thou art bleeding still ! This was Thy true disciple. Leave her not, Sweet Jesus, in this madness. Who is this ? [Enter ULRIC; he carries a razor. ULRIC. I have a lovely bride at last, my dear! A phantom with intolerable eyes Came close and whispered: I am Wisdom’s self, Thy spouse from everlasting. Mortal king Of my immortal self, I claim thy love! So, we are wedded close. Justice demands The punishment of this accurséd one, Originator of the cruel crimes My mother-mistress carried to their c…
…e Way of Quiet is but an Illusion of Ignorance. Whoever thou mayst be now, thy Destiny is that which I have declared unto thee; and thou art most fixed in the true Way when, accepting his consciously as thy Will, thou gathereth up thy Powers to move thy Self mightily within it. s
PREFACE HIS comedy is perhaps my first serious attempt at a work of art ; previous lucubrations of mine having been works either of necessity or of piety : that is, or I felt obliged to tell the truth about something, or I was definitely inspired. But the Angel of Venice (I protest) is a very cunning concoction. I had been revolving certain exposition by M. Henri Davray of Verlaines skill in treating the Alexandrine ; and I couldnt let it stay there ! Hence the form. I had also been meditating on Maeter- lincks method of obtaining atmosphere…
… for the dead and their divine rest! Accursed be your ambitions, accursed be your calculations, impatient mortals, who come to study the art of slaying so close to the sanctu- ary of death! If you knew how easy the prize was to gain, how easy the mark was to hit, and how all is nothing except death, you would not take so much trouble, O toilsome folk that are alive, and you would trouble less often the slumber of those who long since have hit the mark, the sole true mark of detestable life.
…ravate the Stress. If thou ease not Nature, she will being thee to Dis-Ease. Free thereof every Function of thy Body and of every other Part of thee according to its true Will. This also is most necessary, that thou discover that true Will in every Case, for thou art born into Dis-Ease; where are many false and perverted Wills, monstrous Growths, Parasites, Vermin are they, adherent to thee by Vice of Heredity, or of Environment or of evil Training. And of all these Things the subtlest and most terrible, Enemies without Pity, destructive to thy…
… the height, Where the multitude stars are at ease, I have heard you as a god There is music and terrible light, Immutable. CHORUS. Thou art as proud and calm As statued Memnon. Thou art more than god And less than man. not. Thine eyelids tremble S’AFI. I shall avenge it asa god. The land Shall be made free. AMENHATEP. And the old gods have sway, Re-born from incorruption. S’AFI. The old gods ! I must muse deeply. Keep your ancient ways A little. I must play the part through so. CHORUS. In the ways of the North and the South Whence the dark and…
…nough of Her three-headed hound ; But Loves severer bound Knows for His watcher a more fearful shape, A formidable ape Skilled by black art to mock the Gods profound In their abyss of under ground. Beware ! Who hath entered hath no boast to make, And conscious Eden surelier breeds the snake. Be silent ! O ! for silence sake ! That asks the impossible. Smite ! Smite ! Profaned adytum of pure light, Smite ! but I must sing on. Nay ! can the orison
…he clouds, the winds, the unmeasured spaces , Rivers , and cragged mountains ; upland places And sloping tall hillsides : All that our heart in tremulous pride embraces , And subtler influence of moods and tides , And sense of shadowy traces . You touch with wonder our desire and mirth , All aims and pleasures of imperfect birth , The very pang of lust ; And love, that comes before all power and worth , Might scarcely shape such beauty out of dust Did you forsake the earth . And yours the wonder of all times and lands , Of tongues , and work of…
… the constant rule, the changing Czar. Thy many, thine inhospitable seas Shall ring thee round, a zodiac to thy star, And Frost, the rampart of thine iron ease, Laugh at the shock of war. Turn, Italy ! The Voice is unto Thee ! Return, poor wounded maiden, to thy home ! Thou hast well tried a spurious liberty : Thou art made captive ; let thy fancy roam To the great Mother, deeper than the sea, And fairer than the foam. O Gateway of the admirable East ! Hold fast thy Faith ! Let no man take thy Crown ! The Birds of Evil, that were keen to feast,…
… away, away, away, Beyond the hills, the hidden hills of day. These are but lilies, O my silent god ; Where thy feet have trod Upon the earthly way They have sprung, And the songs that have been sung Are faded with the day. My little heap of ashes, thou wast god, Yea, utterly wast thou god! So there are no more roses, no more roses ; There shall be no more songs to thee, Lord of the lilies and the silent sea Of Time. No rime This night brings to thee: closes The hour in dusk; there is no song sung to thee, And thou art fled from all thy toil, s…
… away, away, away, Beyond the hills, the hidden hills of day. These are but lilies, O my silent god ; Where thy feet have trod Upon the earthly way They have sprung, And the songs that have been sung Are faded with the day. My little heap of ashes, thou wast god, Yea, utterly wast thou god! So there are no more roses, no more roses ; There shall be no more songs to thee, Lord of the lilies and the silent sea Of Time. No rime This night brings to thee: closes The hour in dusk; there is no song sung to thee, And thou art fled from all thy toil, s…
…! not ever a soul hath heard Its echo, O Thou great I Am ! Lo ! Thou hast made the winds, the stars, The sun, the moon, the great grave earth ; Thou has touched the swaying nenuphars With music, and made godly mirth With corn and wine ; Thou hast made Thee man ; Thou hast loved and suffered, died and risen ; Buthath Thy mouth grown white and wan, Sucked out into that strange sweet prison Nay, Thou hast never kissed the mouth Of Dorothy ! as I ! as I ! Thou hast never felt its eager growth Upon my Lesbian ecstasy. Therefore I curse Thee not, ac…
… A. Shinkman displayed a precisely similar quality. Their problems are not well rounded and balanced, like those of other masters of the art. They are comparable with nothing else. One feels the emotion of a naturalist familiar with all other fauna who should suddenly be in- troduced to Australian zoology. In art, America has George Grey Barnard, whose Lincoln is like no other type of statue ever moulded. In vaudeville, we have Eva Tanguay, of whom I have already written in terms of no little enthu- siasm. While other variety artists are like d…
The will to live : and these frail friends, The women I shall draw you, fail Of more importance to earth’s ends Than to my life a finger-nail. ’Twere pain, no doubt, were torn away One, a minute distemperature. I spend a fraction of the day Plying the art of manicure. But always beats the heart: the more I polish, tint, or carve, I ask Strength from the heart’s too generous store To bend my fingers to the task. Cease : I am broken: nought remains. The brain’s electric waves are still ; No blood beats eager in the veins; The mind sinks deathward…