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…rt thou, O marvel beyond price, O bee-hive of beatitude ! Is not each cell that builds thee up a well of honey-scented sips ? Is not thy soul one fragrant cup of nectar at my thirsty lips ? Thou bearest in thine hollow staff the primal fire, the flowers fume, Quintessencenow may Zeus engraff its pollen in my wintry womb !
… Sea Island Queen, tossing her lovers into the crater of Mauna Loa after killing them in the excess and fantasy of her passion — yet the soul within shone out and turned the swords to plowshares. There was pride, indeed, but only of that kind which is (as it were) the buckler on the arm of nobility; the woman was incapable of meanness, of treachery, or even of unkindness. There were terrible fires in the depths of that volcano; but they had been turned to human service; they had been used to heat the forge of art. For this woman was a great sin…
…as any certainty as to what the author means, or thinks he means, or is trying to persuade one that he means. Try something simple: "The soul is a part of God." Now then, when he writes "soul" does he mean Atma, or Buddhi, or the Higher Manas, or Purusha, or Yechidah, or Neschamah, or Nephesch, or Nous, or Psyche, or Phren, or Ba, or Khu, or Ka, or Animus or Anima, or Seele, or what? But even this very plain word "part." Does he mean to
…d loath ing of the vulgar, and the self-torture of suspecting the peculiarity to be a symptom of a degenerate nature, than to wrong the soul by damning it to the hell of abstinence, or by defiling it with the abhorred embraces of antipathetic arms. 1 [An obsolete word for a gay male.] Every star must calculate its own orbit. All is Will, and yet all is Necessity. To swerve is ultimately impossible; to seek to swerve is to suffer. The Beast 666 ordains by His authority that every man, and every woman, and every intermediately-sexed individual, …
…fixed bold By the calm of the Master, god-like to behold The horror with firm chisel and glance of ice. Ay! and the petty and the sordid soul, A servile whore’s deformed debauchery,? Grins from the image. Let posterity From Rodin’s art guess Mirbeau’s heart, extol The lethal chamber men ere then will find For the pimp’s pen and the corrupted mind. 1 Le jardin des supplices, Octave Mirbeau. 2 Les mémoires d'une femme de chambre, par Octave Mirbeau, par SOCRATE. (L>HOMME AU NEZ CASSE.) CONSUMMATE beauty built of ugliness, O broken-nose philosophe…
…. St. Augustine symbolizes it under a divine act of copulation .' What is it, then , that I love when I love my God ? What is he whom my soul feels above itself ? I have tried to grasp it in my own intelligence , above all images of things , but at the moment when I reach that seat of being I cannot fix my gaze , and I fall back helpless into the common thoughts . I have carried away nothing from this vision but a memory full of love , and as it were a regretful longing for things whose perfume is felt but which are out of reach . What is it, t…
TannhAuser. " Once I will shew Me waking. Destiny " Adds one illusion to thee. Yet, Oh child ! " Yet will I not forsake thee ; for thy soul, " Its splendid self, hath known Me. Fare thee well." Venus. What are these strange and silly words .■* Awake! Wake and devour me with the dawn of love. The dragon to eclipse this moon of mine ! TannhAuser. I sleep not. Those were Her mysterious words As faded the great vision. And I knew In some forgotten corner of my brain Some desperate truth. Venus. Forget this foolishness ! [ There cometh a shadow. I a…
…him unarmed, Not daring ! But he reached his hand to me ! " Good luck, old friend ! " and, smiling, he was gone. Gone to the Pope —Great soul to mountebank ! It was her wish, they whisper. Well-a-day ! He's gone, and not a friend have I again. This bank is soft with delicate white moss. No pillow better in broad Germany. Were Madeline but here ! What rustle stirs 135
… we were good friends again. Therefore at night I added nothing new : Only a little while I lay with her And with mere kisses sucked her soul away, And made my banquet of immortal dew, Demanding nothing but to minister To her desire until the dawn grew grey. 69
…at is the humour of it, but adieu.” King Henry V. The third time bitterly came reason back. Is it a fault in love when mornings find The soul grown sober and rethroned the mind ? Or is it mere necessity to track The candid chequer cross-wise to the black, And love, not mutable, yet well inclined To take his pleasure in becoming blind After such sight mere day is wont to lack. So we were angry with ourselves and said We would not kiss—two days, and we would part. And she prayed heaven that she might be dead, And I cursed heaven and my foolish he…
ICARE' CARUS cries: “My love is robed in light And splendour of the summits of the sun. Wing, O my soul, thy plumed caparison Through ninety million miles of space beyond sight! Utmost imagination’s eagle-flight Out-soar!” But he, by his own force undone, His peacock pinions molten one by one, Falls to black earth through the impassive night. Lo! from uprushing earth arises love Ardent and secret, scented with the night, Amorous, ready. Sing the awakening bliss That catches him, from the inane above Hurled—nay, drawn down! What uttermost deligh…
…d my nails And painted my lips with vermilion ? Am I not wholly stript Of the deeds and thoughts that obscure thee ? I wait for thee, my soul distraught With aching for some nameless naught In its most arcane crypt Am I not fit to endure thee ? Girded about the paps With a golden girdle of glory, Dost thou wait me, thy slave who am, As a wolf lurks for a strayed white lamb ? The chain of the stars snaps, And the deep of night is hoary ! Thou whose mouth is a flame With its seven-edged sword proceeding,
…spell To choke the strength of pain and lust . Till memory rounded life to a whole , And fear expanding grew to awe , And in a universal soul I dreamed a universal law . 115
…nger from the hour of birth ; And like the sea by limits of pale sand Be utterly confined; but so He planned To vivify the body with the soul, That fire and air were wedded to control The heavy bulk beneath them, so His breath Touched the warm clay and violated death, Gave to the spirit wings and hade it rise To seek its Maker with aspiring eyes, Gave to the body strength to hold awhile The spirit, till the passions that defile Should waste and wither, and the free soul soar. But evil lusted with the soul, and bore A thousand children deadlier …
…!) _Yea, but equally it is true. So also the old mystics were right who saw in every phenomenon a dog-faced demon apt only to seduce the soul from the sacred mystery; right, too, they who “interpret every phenomenon as a particular dealing of God with the soul.” Yet the latter is the higher formula; the narrowing of the Magical Circle to a point is an easier task than the destruction of that circle (and all both within and without) by the inrush of a higher dimension.
…ether in their opinion its fruition will tend to the good or evil of their country or of the world; for who are they to interfere with a soul whose balance has been crowned by the most holy Tao? “ The masters shall be great men among men; but among great men they shall be friends. “ Since equilibrium will have become perfect, a greater than Napoleon shall arise, and the peaceful shall rejoice thereat; a greater than Darwin, and the minister in his pulpit give open thanks to God. “ The instructed infidel shall no longer sneer at the church-goer, …
…ring upon and pierce With maddening fangs those firm white bosom towers, To tear those lithe voluptuous limbs apart And glut my ravening soul with vengeance. Heart Quickens as she draws near ; the scent of flowers Breathes round her damnéd presence. Shall she live To triumph with those tainted lips of song— She whispered “ Dearest, I have kept thee long ” I flung myself before her, “ Love, forgive ! ”
…trel^ You, sir, next ! Sing of pure love and noble womanhood. Our court loves not these wastrel troubadours, Loose locks, flushed faces, soul's unseemliness. The Unknown Minstrel (sings). Amid earth's motley, Gaia's cap and bells, This too material, too unreal life, Sing, sing the crown of tender miracles, The pure true wife ! Sing not of love, the unutterable one, The love divine that Mary has to men. Seek not the winepress and the rising sun Beyond thy ken ! Tannhauser [aside). Who is this man that reads my inmost thought ? The Unknown Minstr…
…, lay in bed, While my love smoothed the pillows for my head : Her calm looks christened me with dew to still All chance of fever to the soul, and fill My heart with pure love like a snowfall shed Meekly, a blossom where frail white and red Were never frenzied at some mad god’s will. She sat and gazed upon me all day long. Sometimes she held my hands ; then she would weep, And then stoop tenderly and kiss my lips, Or lull me with some chaste and gentle song Of angel love. Night’s plume its dewfall drips As she still sits and watches me to sleep…
…rd that chirps Another song. Here’s paint and brush And canvas. I will paint anon The limb yon garter once was on ; Sketch you a nude—my soul—and nude The very human attitude We all assume—or else are posers. Such winners are the surest losers. I paint her picture, recognise— Dare you ?—one glimmer of her eyes Like yours, one shimmer of her skin Like that your flesh is hidden in, One laugh upon her lips enough Like yours for me to recollect, Remind, recall, hint? Never! Stuff! 40