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… of our feet, The night of our terrible tresses ! Is it a wonder, then, If the people are mad with blindness, And nothing is stranger to men Than silence, and wisdom, and kindness? Nay! let him fashion an arrow Whose heart is sober and stout ! Let him pierce his God to the marrow! Let the soul of his God flow out! 117
…ar God, what rich perfume Must flood the starry ways, a fragrant lily-bloom ! Dare I disturb the wreaths that curl toward God ? MONICA. Amen ! LUCREZIA. How like a babe she breathes ! MONICA. [Rising and going to greet LUCREZIA.] What news from Venice then ? Why, my Lucrezia, you are fair ! The wound is healed ? Why, well, then ! Do we still despair to take the field ? LUCREZIA. Still in his iron gauntlet gripped the city squirms. MONICA. Then Mortadello has not slipped off to the worms ? No ? All the better in the end ! Your eyes shall blaze W…
…nd linen and red gold And guardian gods on every side of them ; Yet inasmuch as life is life, they shrink, Shrivel and waste to ashes as men gaze : So doth the world grow giddy at the brink Of these unfathomable eyes, that blaze Swifter and deadlier than storms or snakes. Then — o what wonder, as I strain afar The basilisk flame ! — what breathless wonder wakes That I behold unsinged a silver star ! O joy! O terror! O! — O can it be There is a thing that is, apart from me? -- 88 -— VII I travelled; so the star. We neared; we saw Each other, kne…
…, THE ANGEL OF VENICE 13 ORLANDO. I ask a gift supreme. MONICA. It suits such service done. ORLANDO. A gift beyond all my dream, and all mens orison. MONICA. Speak ; it is yours. ORLANDO. I ask a rarer prize than life. MONICA. Take off the Sphinxs mask. ORLANDO. I want you for my wife. MONICA. My lord, ask something else. I am not worthy of love. ORLANDO. Love, if I read you, spells a word you know not of. Therefore therein for me the supreme triumph lies. [MONICA hesitates and prays silently. MONICA. My Venice, tis for thee I make the sacri…
…n years. In our Dogme et rituel de la haute magie, we have said what we think of the mysteries of lycanthropy, or the meta- morphosis of men into werewolves. Everyone knows the fable of Circe and understands its allegory. 270
…n years. In our Dogme et rituel de la haute magie, we have said what we think of the mysteries of lycanthropy, or the meta- morphosis of men into werewolves. Everyone knows the fable of Circe and understands its allegory. 270
…with the images of a crowd of little moving figures to represent the innumerable forms of universal wretchedness. There were little lank men who had hung themselves from a nail; there were little mis-
… use of those who communicate through Mrs. Chenoweth! When one reads through stuff like this, one is driven to ask the question: How can men of intelligence and learning, perhaps with skill in other lines of research, be driven to accept such nonsense as proof of anything beyond obvious fraud on the part of the “medium”? How can their sense of all that constitutes evidence be so lacking,—their judgment so at fault,—as to accept this drivel as proof of “spirits”? One can form only the opinion—one seems driven to this con- clusion—that it is the …
… work a hush, a silence almost as if the world—his world—awaited the voice of some great one. And now the silence is not broken. Perhaps men were not ready for those final chords. Perhaps to hear them would be to pass where he has passed! But oh! the pity! To leave his greatest task undone! To be stricken down in the last charge, a good soldier to the end! Would God he could come back only
…anton’s tears, And leave her worn and weary and alone; A face of brass, a serpent’s heart of stone. She had one curse: against the cruel men That reared her without knowledge of mankind, Her parents and their leprous faith; but then She had one virtue: pitiful her mind Toward all gentle spirits: she had given Manya sister half a help to heaven; Many a sorrowing soul that knew her face Lovely behind her destiny’s disgrace. The stern Dissenter was a godly man, And robbed his master. Flying from his home, He reached the city, poor, without a plan …
…And this one “ one”, and “all”, and “naught " The whole content of our imagining, [shall throng The great arcanum in the adytum hid From men, and though we carve or kiss or sing, The Sphinx is dumb, and blind the Pyramid. ~~ Now our affairs are ordered perfectly. Give me your mouth, your mouth, and let us die! - — GQ) — “I
MR. TODD carr. —Anything I don’t know. EUPHEMIA. Oh, you laugh even at me! carr. Because I love you. So I laugh at humanity: if 1 took men seriously I should have to cut my throat. EUPHEMIA. So you don’t take me seriously either? carr. IfI did, I should have to cut- EUPHEMIA. What? carr. My lucky! EUPHEMIA. What a dreadful expression! Where do you learn such things? carr. I notice you don’t have to ask what it means. EUPHEMIA. Stop teasing, darling! carr. I’m not teething! That’s what I complain of; you always treat me as a baby! EUPHEMIA. Come…
MR. TODD carr. —Anything I don’t know. EUPHEMIA. Oh, you laugh even at me! carr. Because I love you. So I laugh at humanity: if 1 took men seriously I should have to cut my throat. EUPHEMIA. So you don’t take me seriously either? carr. IfI did, I should have to cut- EUPHEMIA. What? carr. My lucky! EUPHEMIA. What a dreadful expression! Where do you learn such things? carr. I notice you don’t have to ask what it means. EUPHEMIA. Stop teasing, darling! carr. I’m not teething! That’s what I complain of; you always treat me as a baby! EUPHEMIA. Come…
…sionate lover of the fine arts, and more- over an excellent connoisseur, he was truly in- satiable of pleasure. Indifferent enough where men and morals were concerned, himself a true artist, he knew no enemy so dangerous as boredom, and the bizarre efforts that he made to flee from or to conquer that tyrant of the world would certainly have endowed him (on the page of a severe historian) with the epithet of monster; if in his dominions it had been permitted to write anything at all whose sole tendency was not towards pleasure, or towards wonder…
…es which the republican dictionary might equally well call worthies, if only the republic who, too much occupied with the happiness of men, had time to think of the honour of dogs. And how many times have I thought that there was perhaps somewherewho knows af- ter all?to recompense so much courage, so much patience, so much toil, a special Paradise for the good dogs, the poor dogs, the sorry and unfriendly dogs. Does not Swedenborg say that there is one for Turks and another for Dutchmen? The shepherds of Virgil and Theocritus ex- pected as…
…hic man, carried with it the Stellar Mythos,—that of the Seven Stars and the Pole Star, and the varied quarters to which these primitive men travelled is carefully indicated on the map at the end of the book. Though it may seem strange that they crossed vast oceans, it must be borne in mind that the configurations of the globe have changed since those remote periods; besides, primitive man did get about the world in a most extraordinary way, as such islands as Madagascar and Easter Island prove. The inhabitants of the former are Polynesian and …
…hic man, carried with it the Stellar Mythos,—that of the Seven Stars and the Pole Star, and the varied quarters to which these primitive men travelled is carefully indicated on the map at the end of the book. Though it may seem strange that they crossed vast oceans, it must be borne in mind that the configurations of the globe have changed since those remote periods; besides, primitive man did get about the world in a most extraordinary way, as such islands as Madagascar and Easter Island prove. The inhabitants of the former are Polynesian and …
…e sleepy waters of mere sensualism ; the pace quickens, he grows fierce in the mysteries of Sapphism and the cult of Venus Aversa with women ; later of the same forms of vice with men, all mingled with wild talk of religious dogma and a general exaltation of Priapism at the expense, in particular, of Christianity, in which religion, however, he is undoubtedly a believer till the
[110] ALL THE WORLDS A BROTHEL All the worlds a brothel, And all the men and women whores and buggers. They have their exits and their entrances. And one man in his time lets many farts. His arsehole being an octave. First the Infant Violently rogered by an aged duke : And then the frigging schoolboy, with his scrotum And shining gland, his spend mere slime of snail Unwilling from the tool. And then the lover Fucking like a furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress bottom. Then a soldier Full of stiff spunk and bollocked like the bu…
…ar transcendental sky Of this initiated rapture. Hurt Of shame for me is past, beholding Gods Only a little part of me, and dirt Such as men fling and women paste, no odds. Moreover, by the subtle and austere Vintage we drain, albeit we drain the lees, There is no headache for the morning drear, No fluctuant in our tideless ecstasies — Whereby, o maiden o’ mine, the runic rime Tells me we have ree’d the riddle of old Time. XIII Never, o never shall I call you bride! Never, o never shall I draw you down Unto my kisses by the dim bedside Bathing …