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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..136c53a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51992 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51992) diff --git a/old/51992-0.txt b/old/51992-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e18672c..0000000 --- a/old/51992-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2944 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems 1918–21, by Ezra Pound - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Poems 1918–21 - -Author: Ezra Pound - -Release Date: May 3, 2016 [eBook #51992] -[Most recently updated: May 21, 2023] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Bryan Ness, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS 1918–21 *** - - - - - POEMS 1918-21 - - - - - _Ezra Pound’s work is now contained in the following volumes:_ - - _Poetry_: - - 1908-1910 Provenca (_U. S. A._) or 1908-1912 - Umbra (_English_) - - 1910-1917 Lustra (American Edition) - - 1918-1921 Poems: Including Three Portraits - and Four Cantos - - _Prose_: - - 1910 The Spirit of Romance - - 1916 Gaudier Brzeska, a Memoir - - 1918 Pavannes and Divisions - - 1920 Instigations - - _Translations_: - - 1912 The Sonnets and Ballate of Guido - Cavalcanti - - 1916 From the Mss. of Ernest Fenollosa: - Noh - - 1921 Physique de l’Amour - by Remy de Gourmont - - - - - POEMS 1918-21 - - INCLUDING - - THREE PORTRAITS - - AND - - FOUR CANTOS - - BY - - EZRA POUND - - BONI AND LIVERIGHT - PUBLISHERS NEW YORK - - POEMS 1918-1921 - - COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY - BONI AND LIVERIGHT, INC. - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - _Certain poems in this volume have appeared in “The Dial,” “The New - Age,” “The Little Review,” “Poetry,” and private issues of Egoist - and Ovid Press._ - - - - -CONTENTS - -_PORTRAITS_ - - - - 1. HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS - [i-xii] - - 2. LANGUE D’OC - [i-v] - - _Moeurs Contemporaines_ - [i-viii] - - 3. HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY - - - Part I. - - _Ode pour l’élection de son sépulchre_ - - II. - - III. - - IV. - - V. - - _Yeux Glauques_ - - “_Siena mi fe, disfecemi Maremma_” - - _Brennbaum_ - - _Mr. Nixon_ - - X. - - XI. - - XII. - - - ENVOI - - 1919 - - - Part II. - - 1920 - - (Mauberley) - - PAGE - I. - - II. - - “_The age demanded_” - - IV. - - _Medallion_ - - - _CANTOS_ - - THE FOURTH CANTO - - THE FIFTH CANTO - - THE SIXTH CANTO - - THE SEVENTH CANTO - - - - -HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS - - -I - - Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of Philetas - It is in your grove I would walk, - I who come first from the clear font - Bringing the Grecian orgies into Italy, and the dance into Italy. - Who hath taught you so subtle a measure, in what hall have you heard it; - What foot beat out your time-bar, what water has mellowed your whistles? - - Out-weariers of Apollo will, as we know, continue their Martian - generalities. - We have kept our erasers in order, - A new-fangled chariot follows the flower-hung horses; - A young Muse with young loves clustered about her ascends with me into - the aether, ... - And there is no high-road to the Muses. - - Annalists will continue to record Roman reputations, - Celebrities from the Trans-Caucasus will belaud Roman celebrities - And expound the distentions of Empire, - - But for something to read in normal circumstances? - For a few pages brought down from the forked hill unsullied? - I ask a wreath which will not crush my head. - And there is no hurry about it; - I shall have, doubtless, a boom after my funeral, - Seeing that long standing increases all things regardless of quality. - - And who would have known the towers pulled down by a deal-wood horse; - Or of Achilles withstaying waters by Simois - Or of Hector spattering wheel-rims, - - Or of Polydmantus, by Scamander, or Helenus and Deiphoibos? - Their door-yards would scarcely know them, or Paris. - Small talk O Ilion, and O Troad twice taken by Oetian gods, - If Homer had not stated your case! - - And I also among the later nephews of this city shall have my dog’s day - With no stone upon my contemptible sepulchre, - My vote coming from the temple of Phoebus in Lycia, at Patara, - And in the mean time my songs will travel, - And the devirginated young ladies will enjoy them when they have got - over the strangeness, - For Orpheus tamed the wild beasts--and held up the Threician river; - And Citharaon shook up the rocks by Thebes and danced them into a - bulwark at his pleasure, - And you, O Polyphemus? Did harsh Galatea almost - Turn to your dripping horses, because of a tune, under Aetna? - We must look into the matter. - Bacchus and Apollo in favour of it, - There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to my palaver, - Though my house is not propped up by Taenarian columns from Laconia - (associated with Neptune and Cerberus), - Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams; - My orchards do not lie level and wide - as the forests of Phaecia, - the luxurious and Ionian, - Nor are my caverns stuffed stiff with a Marcian vintage, - (My cellar does not date from Numa Pompilius, - Nor bristle with wine jars) - Yet the companions of the Muses - will keep their collective nose in my books, - And weary with historical data, they will turn to my dance tune. - - Happy who are mentioned in my pamphlets, the songs shall be a fine - tomb-stone over their beauty. - But against this? - Neither expensive pyramids scraping the stars in their route, - Nor houses modelled upon that of Jove in East Elis, - Nor the monumental effigies of Mausolus, - are a complete elucidation of death. - Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks - And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years. - - Stands genius a deathless adornment, - a name not to be worn out with the years. - - -II - - I had been seen in the shade, recumbent on cushioned Helicon, - the water dripping from Bellerophon’s horse, - Alba, your kings, and the realm your folk - have constructed with such industry - Shall be yawned out on my lyre--with such industry. - My little mouth shall gobble in such great fountains, - “Wherefrom father Ennius, sitting before I came, hath drunk.” - - I had rehearsed the Curian brothers, and made remarks on the - Horatian javelin - (Near Q. H. Flaccus’ book-stall). - “Of” royal Aemilia, drawn on the memorial raft, - “Of” the victorious delay of Fabius, and the left-handed - battle at Cannae, - Of lares fleeing the “Roman seat” ... - I had sung of all these - And of Hannibal, - and of Jove protected by geese. - And Phoebus looking upon me from the Castalian tree, - Said then “You idiot! What are you doing with that water; - “Who has ordered a book about heroes? - You need, Propertius, not think - “About acquiring that sort of a reputation. - “Soft fields must be worn by small wheels, - “Your pamphlets will be thrown, thrown often into a chair - “Where a girl waits alone for her lover; - “Why wrench your page out of its course? - “No keel will sink with your genius - “Let another oar churn the water, - “Another wheel, the arena; mid-crowd is as bad as mid-sea.” - - He had spoken, and pointed me a place with his plectrum: - - Orgies of vintages, an earthern image of Silenus - Strengthened with rushes, Tegaean Pan, - The small birds of the Cytharean mother, - their Punic faces dyed in the Gorgon’s lake; - Nine girls, from as many countrysides - bearing her offerings in their unhardened hands, - - Such my cohort and setting. And she bound ivy to his thyrsos; - Fitted song to the strings; - Roses twined in her hands. - And one among them looked at me with face offended, - Calliope: - “Content ever to move with white swans! - “Nor will the noise of high horses lead you ever to battle; - “Nor will the public criers ever have your name - in their classic horns, - “Nor Mars shout you in the wood at Aeonium, - Nor where Rome ruins German riches, - “Nor where the Rhine flows with barbarous blood, - and flood carries wounded Suevi. - “Obviously crowned lovers at unknown doors, - “Night dogs, the marks of a drunken scurry, - “These are your images, and from you the sorcerizing - of shut-in young ladies, - “The wounding of austere men by chicane.” - - Thus Mistress Calliope, - Dabbling her hands in the fount, thus she - Stiffened our face with the backwash of Philetas the Coan. - - -III - - Midnight, and a letter comes to me from our - mistress: - Telling me to come to Tibur, _At_ once!!: - “Bright tips reach up from twin towers, - Anienan spring water falls into flat-spread pools.” - - What _is_ to be done about it? - Shall I entrust myself to entangled shadows, - Where bold hands may do violence to my person? - - Yet if I postpone my obedience - because of this respectable terror - I shall be prey to lamentations worse than a nocturnal assailant. - _And_ I shall be in the wrong, - _and_ it will last a twelve month, - For her hands have no kindness me-ward, - - Nor is there anyone to whom lovers are not sacred at midnight - And in the Via Sciro. - - If any man would be a lover - he may walk on the Scythian coast, - No barbarism would go to the extent of doing him harm, - The moon will carry his candle, - the stars will point out the stumbles, - Cupid will carry lighted torches before him - and keep mad dogs off his ankles. - - Thus all roads are perfectly safe - and at any hour; - Who so indecorous as to shed the pure gore of a suitor? I - Cypris is his cicerone. - - What if undertakers follow my track, - such a death is worth dying. - She would bring frankincense and wreaths to my tomb, - She would sit like an ornament on my pyre. - - Gods’ aid, let not my bones lie in a public location - with crowds too assiduous in their crossing of it; - For thus are tombs of lovers most desecrated. - - May a woody and sequestered place cover me with its foliage - Or may I inter beneath the hummock - of some as yet uncatalogued sand; - At any rate I shall not have my epitaph in a high road. - - - - -IV - -DIFFERENCE OF OPINION WITH LYGDAMUS - - - Tell me the truths which you hear of our constant young lady, - Lygdamus, - And may the bought yoke of a mistress lie with - equitable weight on your shoulders; - For I am swelled up with inane pleasurabilities - and deceived by your reference - To things which you think I would like to believe. - - No messenger should come wholly empty, - and a slave should fear plausibilities; - Much conversation is as good as having a home. - Out with it, tell it to me, all of it, from the beginning, - I guzzle with outstretched ears. - Thus? She wept into uncombed hair, - And you saw it, - Vast waters flowed from her eyes? - You, you Lygdamus - Saw her stretched on her bed,-- - it was no glimpse in a mirror; - No gawds on her snowy hands, no orfevrerie, - Sad garment draped on her slender arms. - Her escritoires lay shut by the bed-feet. - Sadness hung over the house, and the desolated female attendants - Were desolated because she had told them her dreams. - - She was veiled in the midst of that place, - Damp wooly handkerchiefs were stuffed into her undryable eyes, - And a querulous noise responded to our solicitous reprobations. - - For which things you will get a reward from me, - Lygdamus? - To say many things is equal to having a home. - - And the other woman “has not enticed me - by her pretty manners, - “She has caught me with herbaceous poison, - she twiddles the spiked wheel of a rhombus, - “She stews puffed frogs, snake’s bones, the moulded feathers - of screech owls, - - “She binds me with ravvles of shrouds. - “Black spiders spin in her bed! - “Let her lovers snore at her in the morning! - “May the gout cramp up her feet! - “Does he like me to sleep here alone, Lygdamus? - “Will he say nasty things at my funeral?” - - And you expect me to believe this - after twelve months of discomfort? - - -V - -1 - - Now if ever it is time to cleanse Helicon; - to lead Emathian horses afield, - And to name over the census of my chiefs in the Roman camp. - If I have not the faculty, “The bare attempt would be praise-worthy.” - “In things of similar magnitude - the mere will to act is sufficient.” - - The primitive ages sang Venus, - the last sings of a tumult, - And I also will sing war when this matter of a girl is exhausted. - - I with my beak hauled ashore would proceed in a more stately manner, - My Muse is eager to instruct me in a new gamut, or gambetto, - Up, up my soul, from your lowly cantilation, - put on a timely vigour, - - Oh august Pierides! Now for a large-mouthed product. - Thus: - “The Euphrates denies its protection to the Parthian - and apologizes for Crassus,” - And “It is, I think, India which now gives necks to your triumph,” - And so forth, Augustus. “Virgin Arabia shakes in her inmost dwelling.” - If any land shrink into a distant seacoast, - it is a mere postponement of your domination, - And I shall follow the camp, I shall be duly celebrated, - for singing the affairs of your cavalry. - May the fates watch over my day. - -2 - - Yet you ask on what account I write so many love-lyrics - And whence this soft book comes into my mouth. - Neither Calliope nor Apollo sung these things into my ear, - My genius is no more than a girl. - - If she with ivory fingers drive a tune through the lyre, - We look at the process - How easy the moving fingers; if hair is mussed on her forehead, - If she goes in a gleam of Cos, in a slither of dyed stuff, - There is a volume in the matter; if her eyelids sink into sleep, - There are new jobs for the author, - And if she plays with me with her shirt off, - We shall construct many Iliads. - And whatever she does or says - We shall spin long yarns out of nothing, - - Thus much the fates have allotted me, and if, Maecenas, - I were able to lead heroes into armour, I would not, - Neither would I warble of Titans, nor of Ossa - spiked onto Olympus, - Nor of causeways over Pelion, - Nor of Thebes in its ancient respectability, - nor of Homer’s reputation in Pergamus, - Nor of Xerxes’ two-barreled kingdom, nor of Remus and his royal family, - Nor of dignified Carthaginian characters, - Nor of Welsh mines and the profit Marus had out of them. - I should remember Caesar’s affairs ... - for a background, - Although Callimachus did without them, - and without Theseus, - Without an inferno, without Achilles attended of gods, - Without Ixion, and without the sons of Menoetius and the Argo and - without Jove’s grave and the Titans. - - And my ventricles do not palpitate to Caesarial _ore rotundos_, - Nor to the tune of the Phrygian fathers. - - Sailor, of winds; a plowman, concerning his oxen; - Soldier, the enumeration of wounds; the sheep-feeder, of ewes; - We, in our narrow bed, turning aside from battles: - Each man where he can, wearing out the day in his manner. - -3 - - It is noble to die of love, and honourable to remain - uncuckolded for a season. - And she speaks ill of light women, - and will not praise Homer - Because Helen’s conduct is “unsuitable.” - - -VI - - When, when, and whenever death closes our eyelids, - Moving naked over Acheron - Upon the one raft, victor and conquered together, - Marius and Jugurtha together, - one tangle of shadows. - - Caesar plots against India, - Tigris and Euphrates shall, from now on, flow at his bidding, - Tibet shall be full of Roman policemen, - The Parthians shall get used to our statuary - and acquire a Roman religion; - One raft on the veiled flood of Acheron, - Marius and Jugurtha together. - - Nor at my funeral either will there be any long trail, - bearing ancestral lares and images; - No trumpets filled with my emptiness, - Nor shall it be on an Atalic bed; - The perfumed cloths shall be absent. - A small plebeian procession. - Enough, enough and in plenty - There will be three books at my obsequies - Which I take, my not unworthy gift, to Persephone. - - You will follow the bare scarified breast - Nor will you be weary of calling my name, nor too weary - To place the last kiss on my lips - When the Syrian onyx is broken. - - “He who is now vacant dust - “Was once the slave of one passion:” - Give that much inscription - “Death why tardily come?” - - You, sometimes, will lament a lost friend, - For it is a custom: - This care for past men, - - Since Adonis was gored in IDALIA, and the Cytharean - Ran crying with out-spread hair, - In vain, you call back the shade, - In vain, Cynthia. Vain call to unanswering shadow, - Small talk comes from small bones. - - -VII - - Me happy, night, night full of brightness; - Oh couch made happy by my long delectations; - How many words talked out with abundant candles; - Struggles when the lights were taken away; - Now with bared breasts she wrestled against me, - Tunic spread in delay; - And she then opening my eyelids fallen in sleep, - Her lips upon them; and it was her mouth saying: Sluggard! - - In how many varied embraces, our changing arms, - Her kisses, how many, lingering on my lips. - “Turn not Venus into a blinded motion, - Eyes are the guides of love, - Paris took Helen naked coming from the bed of Menelaus, - Endymion’s naked body, bright bait for Diana,” - --such at least is the story. - - While our fates twine together, sate we our eyes with love; - For long night comes upon you - and a day when no day returns. - Let the gods lay chains upon us - so that no day shall unbind them. - - Fool who would set a term to love’s madness, - For the sun shall drive with black horses, - earth shall bring wheat from barley, - The flood shall move toward the fountain - Ere love know moderations, - The fish shall swim in dry streams. - - No, now while it may be, let not the fruit of life cease. - - Dry wreaths drop their petals, - their stalks are woven in baskets, - To-day we take the great breath of lovers, - to-morrow fate shuts us in. - - Though you give all your kisses - you give but a few.” - - Nor can I shift my pains to other - Hers will I be dead, - If she confers such nights upon me, - long is my life, long in years, - If she give me many, - God am I for the time. - - -VIII - - Jove, be merciful to that unfortunate woman - Or an ornamental death will be held to your debit, - The time is come, the air heaves in torridity, - The dry earth pants against the canicular heat, - But this heat is not the root of the matter: - She did not respect all the gods; - Such derelictions have destroyed other young ladies aforetime, - And what they swore in the cupboard - wind and wave scattered away. - - Was Venus exacerbated by the existence of a comparable equal? - Is the ornamental goddess full of envy? - - Have you contempted Juno’s Pelasgian temples, - Have you denied Pallas good eyes? - Or is it my tongue that wrongs you - with perpetual ascription of graces? - There comes, it seems, and at any rate - through perils, (so many) and of a vexed life, - The gentler hour of an ultimate day. - - Io mooed the first years with averted head, - And now drinks Nile water like a god, - Ino in her young days fled pellmell out of Thebes, - Andromeda was offered to a sea-serpent - and respectably married to Perseus, - Callisto, disguised as a bear, - wandered through the Arcadian prairies - While a black veil was over her stars, - What if your fates are accelerated; - your quiet hour put forward, - You may find interment pleasing, - - You will say that you succumbed to a danger identical, - charmingly identical, with Semele’s, - And believe it, and she also will believe it, - being expert from experience, - And amid all the gloried and storied beauties of Maeonia - There shall be none in a better seat, not one denying - your prestige, - - Now you may bear fate’s stroke unperturbed, - Or Jove, harsh as he is, may turn aside your ultimate day, - Old lecher, let not Juno get wind of the matter, - Or perhaps Juno herself will go under, - If the young lady is taken? - - There will be, in any case, a stir on Olympus. - - -IX - -1 - - The twisted rhombs ceased their clamour of accompaniment; - The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust; - The moon still declined to descend out of heaven, - - But the black omnious owl hoot was audible. - - And one raft bears our fates - on the veiled lake toward Avernus - Sails spread on Cerulean waters, I would shed tears for two; - I shall live, if she continue in life, - If she dies, I shall go with her. - Great Zeus, save the woman, - or she will sit before your feet in a veil, - and tell out the long list of her troubles. - -2 - - Persephone and Dis, Dis, have mercy upon her, - There are enough women in hell, - quite enough beautiful women, - Iope, and Tyro, and Pasiphae, and the formal girls of Achaia, - And out of Troad, and from the Campania, - Death has its tooth in the lot, - Avernus lusts for the lot of them, - Beauty is not eternal, no man has perennial fortune, - Slow foot, or swift foot, death delays but for a season. - -3 - - My light, light of my eyes, - you are escaped from great peril, - Go back to Great Dian’s dances bearing suitable gifts, - Pay up your vow of night watches - to Dian goddess of virgins, - And unto me also pay debt: the ten nights of your company you - have promised me. - - -X - - Light, light of my eyes, at an exceeding late hour - I was wandering, - And intoxicated, - and no servant was leading me, - And a minute crowd of small boys came from opposite, - I do not know what boys, - And I am afraid of numerical estimate, - And some of them shook little torches, - and others held onto arrows, - And the rest laid their chains upon me, - and they were naked, the lot of them, - And one of the lot was given to lust. - - “That incensed female has consigned him to our pleasure.” - So spoke. And the noose was over my neck. - And another said “Get him plumb in the middle! - “Shove along there, shove along!” - And another broke in upon this: - “He thinks that we are not gods.” - - “And she has been waiting for the scoundrel, - and in a new Sidonian night cap, - And with more than Arabian odours, - God knows where he has been, - She could scarcely keep her eyes open - enter that much for his bail. - Get along now!” - - We were coming near to the house, - and they gave another yank to my cloak, - And it was morning, and I wanted to see if she was alone, and resting, - And Cynthia was alone in her bed. - I was stupefied. - I had never seen her looking so beautiful - No, not when she was tunick’d in purple. - - Such aspect was presented to me, me recently emerged from my visions, - You will observe that pure form has its value. - - “You are a very early inspector of mistresses. - “Do you think I have adopted your habits?” - There were upon the bed no signs of a voluptuous encounter, - No signs of a second incumbent. - - She continued: - “No incubus has crushed his body against me, - “Though spirits are celebrated for adultery. - “And I am going to the temple of Vesta ...” - and so on. - - Since that day I have had no pleasant nights. - - -XI - -I - - The harsh acts of your levity! - Many and many. - I am hung here, a scare-crow for lovers. - -2 - - Escape! There is, O Idiot, no escape, - Flee if you like into Ranaus, - desire will follow you thither, - Though you heave into the air upon the gilded Pegasean back, - Though you had the feathery sandals of Perseus - To lift you up through split air, - The high tracks of Hermes would not afford you shelter. - - Amor stands upon you, Love drives upon lovers, - a heavy mass on free necks. - - It is our eyes you flee, not the city, - You do nothing, you plot inane schemes against me, - Languidly you stretch out the snare - with which I am already familiar, - - And yet again, and newly rumour strikes on my ears, - - Rumours of you throughout the city, - and no good rumour among them. - - “You should not believe hostile tongues, - “Beauty is slander’s cock-shy, - “All lovely women have known this,” - “Your glory is not outblotted by venom,” - “Phoebus our witness, your hands are unspotted,” - - A foreign lover brought down Helen’s kingdom, - and she was led back, living, home; - The Cytharean brought low by Mars’ lechery - reigns in respectable heavens, ... - - Oh, oh, and enough of this, - by dew-spread caverns, - The Muses clinging to the mossy ridges; - to the ledge of the rocks; - Zeus’ clever rapes, in the old days, - combusted Semele’s, of Io strayed. - Of how the bird flew from Trojan rafters, - Ida has lain with a shepherd, she has slept between sheep. - - Even there, no escape - Not the Hyrcanian seabord, not in seeking the shore of Eos. - - All things are forgiven for one night of your games.... - Though you walk in the Via Sacra, with a peacock’s tail for a fan. - - -XII - - Who, who will be the next man to entrust his girl to a friend? - Love interferes with fidelities; - The gods have brought shame on their relatives; - Each man wants the pomegranate for himself; - Amiable and harmonious people are pushed incontinent into duels, - A Trojan and adulterous person came to Menelaus under the rites - of hospitium, - And there was a case in Colchis, Jason and that woman in Colchis; - And besides, Lynceus, - you were drunk. - - Could you endure such promiscuity? - She was not renowned for fidelity; - But to jab a knife in my vitals, to have passed on a swig of poison, - Preferable, my dear boy, my dear Lynceus, - Comrade, comrade of my life, of my purse, of my person; - But in one bed, in one bed alone, my dear Lynceus - I deprecate your attendance; - I would ask a like boon of Jove. - - And you write of Achelöus, who contended with Hercules, - You write of Adrastus’ horses and the funeral rites of Achenor, - And you will not leave off imitating Aeschylus. - Though you make a hash of Antimachus, - You think you are going to do Homer. - And still a girl scorns the gods, - Of all these young women - not one has enquired the cause of the world, - Nor the modus of lunar eclipses - Nor whether there be any patch left of us - After we cross the infernal ripples, - nor if the thunder fall from predestination; - Nor anything else of importance. - - Upon the Actian marshes Virgil is Phoebus’ chief of police, - He can tabulate Caesar’s great ships. - He thrills to Ilian arms, - He shakes the Trojan weapons of Aeneas, - And casts stores on Lavinian beaches. - - Make way, ye Roman authors, - clear the street O ye Greeks, - For a much larger Iliad is in the course of construction - (and to Imperial order) - Clear the streets O ye Greeks! - - And you also follow him “neath Phrygian pine shade: - Thyrsis and Daphnis upon whittled reeds, - And how ten sins can corrupt young maidens; - Kids for a bribe and pressed udders, - Happy selling poor loves for cheap apples. - - Tityrus might have sung the same vixen; - Corydon tempted Alexis, - Head farmers do likewise, and lying weary amid their oats - They get praise from tolerant Hamadryads.” - - Go on, to Ascraeus’ prescription, the ancient, - respected, Wordsworthian: - “A flat field for rushes, grapes grow on the slope.” - - And behold me, small fortune left in my house. - Me, who had no general for a grandfather! - I shall triumph among young ladies of indeterminate character, - My talent acclaimed in their banquets, - I shall be honoured with yesterday’s wreaths. - And the god strikes to the marrow. - - Like a trained and performing tortoise, - I would make verse in your fashion, if she should command it, - With her husband asking a remission of sentence, - And even this infamy would not attract numerous readers - Were there an erudite or violent passion, - For the nobleness of the populace brooks nothing below its own altitude. - One must have resonance, resonance and sonority ... - like a goose. - - Varro sang Jason’s expedition, - Varro, of his great passion Leucadia, - There is song in the parchment; Catullus the highly indecorous, - Of Lesbia, known above Helen; - And in the dyed pages of Calvus, - Calvus mourning Quintilia, - And but now Gallus had sung of Lycoris. - Fair, fairest Lycoris-- - The waters of Styx poured over the wound: - And now Propertius of Cynthia, taking his stand among these. - - - - -LANGUE D’OC - - -_Alba_ - - _When the nightingale to his mate - Sings day-long and night late - My love and I keep state - In bower, - In flower, - ’Till the watchman on the tower - Cry: - “Up! Thou rascal, Rise, - I see the white - Light - And the night - Flies.”_ - - -I - -_Compleynt of a gentleman who has been waiting outside for some time_ - - O Plasmatour and true celestial light, - Lord powerful, engirdled all with might, - Give my good-fellow aid in fools’ despite - Who stirs not forth this night, - And day comes on. - - “Sst! my good fellow, art awake or sleeping? - Sleep thou no more. I see the star upleaping - That hath the dawn in keeping, - And day comes on! - - “Hi! Harry, hear me, for I sing aright - Sleep not thou now, I hear the bird in flight - That plaineth of the going of the night, - And day comes on! - - “Come now! Old swenkin! Rise up, from thy bed, - I see the signs upon the welkin spread, - If thou come not, the cost be on thy head. - And day comes on! - - “And here I am since going down of sun, - And pray to God that is St. Mary’s son, - To bring thee safe back, my companion. - And day comes on. - - “And thou out here beneath the porch of stone - Badest me to see that a good watch was done, - And now thou’lt none of me, and wilt have none - Of song of mine.” - -(_Bass voice from within._) - - “Wait, my good fellow. For such joy I take - With her venust and noblest to my make - To hold embraced, and will not her forsake - For yammer of the cuckold, - Though day break.” - (_Girart Bornello._) - - -II - -_Avril_ - - When the springtime is sweet - And the birds repeat - Their new song in the leaves, - ’Tis meet - A man go where he will. - - But from where my heart is set - No message I get; - My heart all wakes and grieves; - Defeat - Or luck, I must have my fill. - - Our love comes out - Like the branch that turns about - On the top of the hawthorne, - With frost and hail at night - Suffers despite - ’Till the sun come, and the green leaf on the bough. - - I remember the young day - When we set strife away, - And she gave me such gesning, - Her love and her ring: - God grant I die not by any man’s stroke - ’Till I have my hand ’neath her cloak. - - I care not for their clamour - Who have come between me and my charmer, - For I know how words run loose, - Big talk and little use. - Spoilers of pleasure, - We take their measure. - (_Guilhem de Peitieu._) - - -III - -_Descant on a Theme by Cerclamon_ - - When the sweet air goes bitter, - And the cold birds twitter - Where the leaf falls from the twig, - I sough and sing - that Love goes out - Leaving me no power to hold him. - - Of love I have naught - Save troubles and sad thought, - And nothing is grievous - as I desirous, - Wanting only what - No man can get or has got. - - With the noblest that stands in men’s sight, - If all the world be in despite - I care not a glove. - Where my love is, there is a glitter of sun; - God give me life, and let my course run - ’Till I have her I love - To lie with and prove. - - I do not live, nor cure me, - Nor feel my ache--great as it is, - For love will give - me no respite, - Nor do I know when I turn left or right - nor when I go out. - For in her is all my delight - And all that can save me. - - I shake and burn and quiver - From love, awake and in swevyn, - Such fear I have she deliver - me not from pain, - Who know not how to ask her; - Who can not. - Two years, three years I seek - And though I fear to speak out, - Still she must know it. - - If she won’t have me now, Death is my portion, - Would I had died that day - I came into her sway. - God! How softly this kills! - When her love look steals on me. - Killed me she has, I know not how it was, - For I would not look on a woman. - - Joy I have none, if she make me not mad - Or set me quiet, or bid me chatter. - Good is it to me if she flout - Or turn me inside out, and about. - My ill doth she turn sweet. - How swift it is. - For I am traist and loose, - I am true, or a liar, - All vile, or all gentle, - Or shaking between, - as she desire, - I, Cerclamon, sorry and glad, - The man whom love had - and has ever; - Alas! who’er it please or pain, - She can me retain. - - I am gone from one joy, - From one I loved never so much, - She by one touch - Reft me away; - So doth bewilder me - I can not say my say - nor my desire, - And when she looks on me - It seems to me - I lose all wit and sense. - - The noblest girls men love - ’Gainst her I prize not as a glove - Worn and old. - Though the whole world run rack - And go dark with cloud, - Light is - Where she stands, - And a clamour loud - in my ears. - - -IV - -_Vergier_ - - In orchard under the hawthorne - She has her lover till morn, - Till the traist man cry out to warn - Them. God how swift the night, - And day comes on. - - O Plasmatour, that thou end not the night, - Nor take my belovéd from my sight, - Nor I, nor tower-man, look on daylight, - ’Fore God, How swift the night, - And day comes on. - - “Lovely thou art, to hold me close and kisst, - Now cry the birds out, in the meadow mist, - Despite the cuckold, do thou as thou list, - So swiftly goes the night - And day comes on. - - “My pretty boy, make we our play again - Here in the orchard where the birds complain, - ’Till the traist watcher his song unrein, - Ah God! How swift the night - And day comes on.” - - “Out of the wind that blows from her, - That dancing and gentle is and Thereby pleasanter, - Have I drunk a draught, sweeter than scent of myrrh. - Ah God! How swift the night. - And day comes on.” - - _Venust the lady, and none lovelier, - For her great beauty, many men look on her, - Out of my love will her heart not stir. - By God, how swift the night._ - _And day comes on._ - - -V - -_Canzon_ - - I only, and who elrische pain support - Know out love’s heart o’erborne by overlove, - For my desire that is so firm and straight - And unchanged since I found her in my sight - And unturned since she came within my glance, - That far from her my speech springs up aflame; - Near her comes not. So press the words to arrest it. - - I am blind to others, and their retort - I hear not. In her alone, I see, move, - Wonder.... And jest not. And the words dilate - Not truth; but mouth speaks not the heart outright: - I could not walk roads, flats, dales, hills, by chance, - To find charm’s sum within one single frame - As God hath set in her t’assay and test it. - - And I have passed in many a goodly court - To find in hers more charm than rumour thereof ... - In solely hers. Measure and sense to mate, - Youth and beauty learned in all delight, - Gentrice did nurse her up, and so advance - Her fair beyond all reach of evil fame, - To clear her worth, no shadow hath oppresst it. - - Her contact flats not out, falls not off short.... - Let her, I pray, guess out the sense hereof - For never will it stand in open prate - Until my inner heart stand in daylight, - So that heart pools him when her eyes entrance, - As never doth the Rhone, fulled and untame, - Pool, where the freshest tumult hurl to crest it. - - Flimsy another’s joy, false and distort, - No paregale that she springs not above ... - Her love-touch by none other mensurate. - To have it not? Alas! Though the pains bite - Deep, torture is but galzeardy and dance, - For in my thought my lust hath touched his aim. - God! Shall I get no more! No fact to best it! - - No delight I, from now, in dance or sport, - Nor will these toys a tinkle of pleasure prove, - Compared to her, whom no loud profligate - Shall leak abroad how much she makes my right. - Is this too much? If she count not mischance - What I have said, then no. But if she blame, - Then tear ye out the tongue that hath expresst it. - - The song begs you: Count not this speech ill chance, - But if you count the song worth your acclaim, - Arnaut cares lyt who praise or who contest it. - (_Arnaut Daniel, a. d. about 1190._) - - - - -MOEURS CONTEMPORAINES - - -I - -_Mr. Styrax_ 1 - - Mr. Hecatomb Styrax, the owner of a large estate - and of large muscles, - A “blue” and a climber of mountains, has married - at the age of 28, - He being at that age a virgin, - The term “virgo” being made male in mediaeval latinity; - His ineptitudes - Have driven his wife from one religious excess to another. - She has abandoned the vicar - For he was lacking in vehemence; - She is now the high-priestess - Of a modern and ethical cult, - And even now Mr. Styrax - Does not believe in aesthetics. - -2 - - His brother has taken to gipsies, - But the son-in-law of Mr. H. Styrax - Objects to perfumed cigarettes. - In the parlance of Niccolo Macchiavelli, - “Thus things proceed in their circle”; - And thus the empire is maintained. - - -II - -_Clara_ - - At sixteen she was a potential celebrity - With a distaste for caresses. - She now writes to me from a convent; - Her life is obscure and troubled; - Her second husband will not divorce her; - Her mind is, as ever, uncultivated, - And no issue presents itself. - She does not desire her children, - Or any more children. - Her ambition is vague and indefinite, - She will neither stay in, nor come out. - - -III - -_Soirée_ - - Upon learning that the mother wrote verses, - And that the father wrote verses, - And that the youngest son was in a publisher’s office, - And that the friend of the second daughter - was undergoing a novel, - The young American pilgrim - Exclaimed: - “This is a darn’d clever bunch!” - - -IV - -_Sketch 48 b._ II - - At the age of 27 - Its home mail is still opened by its maternal parent - And its office mail may be opened by - its parent of the opposite gender. - It is an officer, - and a gentleman, - and an architect. - - -V - -“_Nodier raconte ..._” - -1 - - At a friend of my wife’s there is a photograph, - A faded, pale, brownish photograph, - Of the times when the sleeves were large, - Silk, stiff and large above the _lacertus_, - That is, the upper arm, - And décolleté.... - It is a lady, - She sits at a harp, - Playing, - - And by her left foot, in a basket, - Is an infant, aged about 14 months, - The infant beams at the parent, - The parent re-beams at its offspring. - The basket is lined with satin, - There is a satin-like bow on the harp. - -2 - - And in the home of the novelist - There is a satin-like bow on an harp. - - You enter and pass hall after hall, - Conservatory follows conservatory, - Lilies lift their white symbolical cups, - Whence their symbolical pollen has been excerpted, - Near them I noticed an harp - And the blue satin ribbon, - And the copy of “Hatha Yoga” - And the neat piles of unopened, unopening books, - - And she spoke to me of the monarch, - And of the purity of her soul. - - -VI - -_Stele_ - - After years of continence - he hurled himself into a sea of six women. - Now, quenched as the brand of Meleagar, - he lies by the poluphloisboious sea-coast. - - παραἀ ΘῘνα Πολοϕλοίσβοιο Θαλἀσσης. - - SISTE VIATOR. - - -VII - -_I Vecchii_ - - They will come no more, - The old men with beautiful manners. - - Il était comme un tout petit garçon - With his blouse full of apples - And sticking out all the way round; - Blagueur! “Con gli occhi onesti e tardi,” - - And he said: - “Oh! Abelard,” as if the topic - Were much too abstruse for his comprehension, - And he talked about “the Great Mary,” - And said: “Mr. Pound is shocked at my levity,” - When it turned out he meant Mrs. Ward. - - And the other was rather like my bust by Gaudier, - Or like a real Texas colonel, - He said: “Why flay dead horses? - “There was once a man called Voltaire.” - - And he said they used to cheer Verdi, - In Rome, after the opera, - And the guards couldn’t stop them, - - And that was an anagram for Vittorio - Emanuele Re D’ Italia, - And the guards couldn’t stop them. - - Old men with beautiful manners, - Sitting in the Row of a morning; - Walking on the Chelsea Embankment. - - -VIII - -_Ritratto_ - - And she said: - “You remember Mr. Lowell, - “He was your ambassador here?” - And I said: “That was before I arrived.” - And she said: - “He stomped into my bedroom.... - (By that time she had got on to Browning.) - “ ... stomped into my bedroom.... - “And said: ‘Do I, - “‘I ask you, Do I - “‘Care too much for society dinners?’ - “And I wouldn’t say that he didn’t. - “Shelley used to live in this house.” - - She was a very old lady, - I never saw her again. - - - - -HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY - -(LIFE AND CONTACTS) - - “VOCAT ÆSTUS IN UMBRAM” - - _Nemesianus Ec. IV._ - - - - -ODE POUR L’ELECTION DE SON SEPULCHRE - - -I - - For three years, out of key with his time, - He strove to resuscitate the dead art - Of poetry; to maintain “the sublime” - In the old sense. Wrong from the start-- - - No, hardly but, seeing he had been born - In a half savage country, out of date; - Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn; - Capaneus; trout for factitious bait; - - Ἵδυεν λάρ τοι πάνθ’, ὃς’ ἐνἰ Τροίη - Caught in the unstopped ear; - Giving the rocks small lee-way - The chopped seas held him, therefore, that year. - - His true Penelope was Flaubert, - He fished by obstinate isles; - Observed the elegance of Circe’s hair - Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials. - - Unaffected by “the march of events,” - He passed from men’s memory in _l’an trentiesme - De son eage_; the case presents - No adjunct to the Muses’ diadem. - - -II - - The age demanded an image - Of its accelerated grimace, - Something for the modern stage, - Not, at any rate, an Attic grace; - - Not, not certainly, the obscure reveries - Of the inward gaze; - Better mendacities - Than the classics in paraphrase! - - The “age demanded” chiefly a mould in plaster, - Made with no loss of time, - A prose kinema, not, not assuredly, alabaster - Or the “sculpture” of rhyme. - - -III - - The tea-rose tea-gown, etc. - Supplants the mousseline of Cos, - The pianola “replaces” - Sappho’s barbitos. - - Christ follows Dionysus, - Phallic and ambrosial - Made way for macerations; - Caliban casts out Ariel. - - All things are a flowing, - Sage Heracleitus says; - But a tawdry cheapness - Shall outlast our days. - - Even the Christian beauty - Defects--after Samothrace; - We see τὀ καλόν - Decreed in the market place. - - Faun’s flesh is not to us, - Nor the saint’s vision. - We have the press for wafer; - Franchise for circumcision. - - All men, in law, are equals. - Free of Peisistratus, - We choose a knave or an eunuch - To rule over us. - - O bright Apollo, - τίν’ ἀνδρα, τίν’ ήρωά, τίνα θεὀν, - Shall I place a tin wreath upon! - - -IV - - These fought in any case, - and some believing, pro domo, in any case ... - - Some quick to arm, - some for adventure, - some from fear of weakness, - some from fear of censure, - some for love of slaughter, in imagination, - learning later ... - - some in fear, learning love of slaughter; - Died some pro patria, non dulce non et decor” ... - walked eye-deep in hell - believing in old men’s lies, then unbelieving - came home, home to a lie, - home to many deceits, - home to old lies and new infamy; - usury age-old and age-thick - and liars in public places. - - Daring as never before, wastage as never before. - Young blood and high blood, - Fair cheeks, and fine bodies; - - fortitude as never before - - frankness as never before, - disillusions as never told in the old days, - hysterias, trench confessions, - laughter out of dead bellies. - - -V - - There died a myriad, - And of the best, among them, - For an old bitch gone in the teeth, - For a botched civilization, - - Charm, smiling at the good mouth, - Quick eyes gone under earth’s lid, - - For two gross of broken statues, - For a few thousand battered books. - - - - -YEUX GLAUQUES - - - Gladstone was still respected, - When John Ruskin produced - “Kings’ Treasuries”; Swinburne - And Rossetti still abused. - - Fœtid Buchanan lifted up his voice - When that faun’s head of hers - Became a pastime for - Painters and adulterers. - - The Burne-Jones cartons - Have preserved her eyes; - Still, at the Tate, they teach - Cophetua to rhapsodize; - - Thin like brook-water, - With a vacant gaze. - The English Rubaiyat was still-born - In those days. - - The thin, clear gaze, the same - Still darts out faun-like from the half-ruin’d face, - Questing and passive.... - “Ah, poor Jenny’s case” ... - - Bewildered that a world - Shows no surprise - At her last maquero’s - Adulteries. - - - - -“SIENA MI FE’; DISFEÇEMI MAREMMA” - - - Among the pickled fœtuses and bottled bones, - Engaged in perfecting the catalogue, - I found the last scion of the - Senatorial families of Strasbourg, Monsieur Verog. - - For two hours he talked of Gallifet; - Of Dowson; of the Rhymers’ Club; - Told me how Johnson (Lionel) died - By falling from a high stool in a pub ... - - But showed no trace of alcohol - At the autopsy, privately performed-- - Tissue preserved--the pure mind - Arose toward Newman as the whiskey warmed. - - Dowson found harlots cheaper than hotels; - Headlam for uplift; Image impartially imbued - With raptures for Bacchus, Terpsichore and the Church. - So spoke the author of “The Dorian Mood,” - - M. Verog, out of step with the decade, - Detached from his contemporaries, - Neglected by the young, - Because of these reveries. - - - - -BRENNBAUM - - - _The_ sky-like limpid eyes, - The circular infant’s face, - The stiffness from spats to collar - Never relaxing into grace; - The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai and the forty years, - Showed only when the daylight fell - Level across the face - Of Brennbaum “The Impeccable.” - - - - -MR NIXON - - - In the cream gilded cabin of his steam yacht - Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to advance with fewer - Dangers of delay. “Consider - “Carefully the reviewer. - - “I was as poor as you are; - “When I began I got, of course, - “Advance on royalties, fifty at first,” said Mr. Nixon, - “Follow me, and take a column, - “Even if you have to work free. - - “Butter reviewers. From fifty to three hundred - “I rose in eighteen months; - “The hardest nut I had to crack - “Was Dr. Dundas. - - “I never mentioned a man but with the view - “Of selling my own works. - “The tip’s a good one, as for literature - “It gives no man a sinecure. - - “And no one knows, at sight a masterpiece. - “And give up verse, my boy, - “There’s nothing in it.” - - * * * * * - - Likewise a friend of Bloughram’s once advised me: - Don’t kick against the pricks, - Accept opinion. The “Nineties” tried your game - And died, there’s nothing in it. - - - - -X - - - Beneath the sagging roof - The stylist has taken shelter, - Unpaid, uncelebrated, - At last from the world’s welter - - Nature receives him, - With a placid and uneducated mistress - He exercises his talents - And the soil meets his distress. - - The haven from sophistications and contentions - Leaks through its thatch; - He offers succulent cooking; - The door has a creaking latch. - - - - -XI - - - “Conservatrix of Milésien” - Habits of mind and feeling, - Possibly. But in Ealing - With the most bank-clerkly of Englishmen? - - No, “Milésian” is an exaggeration. - No instinct has survived in her - Older than those her grandmother - Told her would fit her station. - - - - -XII - - - “Daphne with her thighs in bark - Stretches toward me her leafy hands,”-- - Subjectively. In the stuffed-satin drawing-room - I await The Lady Valentine’s commands, - - Knowing my coat has never been - Of precisely the fashion - To stimulate, in her, - A durable passion; - - Doubtful, somewhat, of the value - Of well-gowned approbation - Of literary effort, - But never of The Lady Valentine’s vocation: - - Poetry, her border of ideas, - The edge, uncertain, but a means of blending - With other strata - Where the lower and higher have ending; - - A hook to catch the Lady Jane’s attention, - A modulation toward the theatre, - Also, in the case of revolution, - A possible friend and comforter. - - * * * * * - - Conduct, on the other hand, the soul - “Which the highest cultures have nourished” - To Fleet St. where - Dr. Johnson flourished; - - Beside this thoroughfare - The sale of half-hose has - Long since superseded the cultivation - Of Pierian roses. - - - - -ENVOI (1919) - - - _Go, dumb-born book, - Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes; - Hadst thou but song - As thou hast subjects known, - Then were there cause in thee that should condone - Even my faults that heavy upon me lie - And build her glories their longevity._ - - _Tell her that sheds - Such treasure in the air, - Reeking naught else but that her graces give - Life to the moment, - I would bid them live - As roses might, in magic amber laid, - Red overwrought with orange and all made - One substance and one colour - Braving time._ - - _Tell her that goes - With song upon her lips - But sings not out the song, nor knows - The maker of it, some other mouth, - May be as fair as hers, - Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers, - When our two dusts with Waller’s shall be laid, - Siftings on siftings in oblivion, - Till change hath broken down - All things save Beauty alone._ - - - - -1920 (MAUBERLEY) - - - - -I - - - Turned from the “eau-forte - Par Jaquemart” - To the strait head - Of Messalina: - - “His true Penelope - Was Flaubert,” - And his tool - The engraver’s. - - Firmness, - Not the full smile, - His art, but an art - In profile; - - Colourless - Pier Francesca, - Pisanello lacking the skill - To forge Achaia. - - - - -II - - - “_Qu’est ce qu’ils savent de l’amour, et - qu’est ce qu’ils peuvent comprendre_? - - _S’ils ne comprennent pas la poèsie, - s’ils ne sentent pas la musique, qu’est ce - qu’ils peuvent comprendre de cette passion - en comparaison avec laquelle la rose - est grossière et le parfum des violettes un - tonnerre_?” CAID ALI - - For three years, diabolus in the scale, - He drank ambrosia, - All passes, ANANGKE prevails, - Came end, at last, to that Arcadia. - - He had moved amid her phantasmagoria, - Amid her galaxies, - NUKTIS AGALMA - - * * * * * - - Drifted ... drifted precipitate, - Asking time to be rid of.... - Of his bewilderment; to designate - His new found orchid.... - - To be certain ... certain ... - (Amid ærial flowers) ... time for arrangements-- - Drifted on - To the final estrangement; - Unable in the supervening blankness - To sift TO AGATHON from the chaff - Until he found his seive.... - Ultimately, his seismograph: - - --Given that is his “fundamental passion” - This urge to convey the relation - Of eye-lid and cheek-bone - By verbal manifestations; - - To present the series - Of curious heads in medallion-- - - He had passed, inconscient, full gaze, - The wide-banded irises - And botticellian sprays implied - In their diastasis; - - Which anæsthesis, noted a year late, - And weighed, revealed his great affect, - (Orchid), mandate - Of Eros, a retrospect. - - * * * * * - - Mouths biting empty air, - The still stone dogs, - Caught in metamorphosis, were - Left him as epilogues. - - - - -“THE AGE DEMANDED” - -VIDE POEM II. PAGE 54 - - - For this agility chance found - Him of all men, unfit - As the red-beaked steeds of - The Cytheræan for a chain bit. - - The glow of porcelain - Brought no reforming sense - To his perception - Of the social inconsequence. - - Thus, if her colour - Came against his gaze, - Tempered as if - It were through a perfect glaze - - He made no immediate application - Of this to relation of the state - To the individual, the month was more temperate - Because this beauty had been. - - * * * * * - - The coral isle, the lion-coloured sand - Burst in upon the porcelain revery: - Impetuous troubling - Of his imagery. - - * * * * * - - Mildness, amid the neo-Neitzschean clatter, - His sense of graduations, - Quite out of place amid - Resistance to current exacerbations, - Invitation, mere invitation to perceptivity - Gradually led him to the isolation - Which these presents place - Under a more tolerant, perhaps, examination. - - By constant elimination - The manifest universe - Yielded an armour - Against utter consternation, - - A Minoan undulation, - Seen, we admit, amid ambrosial circumstances - Strengthened him against - The discouraging doctrine of chances, - - And his desire for survival, - Faint in the most strenuous moods, - Became an Olympian _apathein_ - In the presence of selected perceptions. - - A pale gold, in the aforesaid pattern, - The unexpected palms - Destroying, certainly, the artist’s urge, - Left him delighted with the imaginary - Audition of the phantasmal sea-surge, - - Incapable of the least utterance or composition, - Emendation, conservation of the “better tradition” - Refinement of medium, elimination of superfluities, - August attraction or concentration. - - Nothing, in brief, but maudlin confession - Irresponse to human aggression, - Amid the precipitation, down-float - Of insubstantial manna, - Lifting the faint susurrus - Of his subjective hosannah. - - Ultimate affronts to human redundancies; - - Non-esteem of self-styled “his betters” - Leading, as he well knew, - To his final - Exclusion from the world of letters. - - - - -IV - - - Scattered Moluccas - Not knowing, day to day, - The first day’s end, in the next noon; - The placid water - Unbroken by the Simoon; - - Thick foliage - Placid beneath warm suns, - Tawn fore-shores - Washed in the cobalt of oblivions; - - Or through dawn-mist - The grey and rose - Of the juridical - Flamingoes; - - A consciousness disjunct, - Being but this overblotted - Series - Of intermittences; - Coracle of Pacific voyages, - The unforecasted beach: - Then on an oar - Read this: - - “I was - And I no more exist; - Here drifted - An hedonist.” - - - - -MEDALLION - - - Luini in porcelain! - The grand piano - Utters a profane - Protest with her clear soprano. - - The sleek head emerges - From the gold-yellow frock - As Anadyomene in the opening - Pages of Reinach. - - Honey-red, closing the face-oval, - A basket-work of braids which seem as if they were - Spun in King Minos’ hall - From metal, or intractable amber; - - The face-oval beneath the glaze, - Bright in its suave bounding-line, as, - Beneath half-watt rays, - The eyes turn topaz. - - - - -CANTOS - - - - -THE FOURTH CANTO - - - Palace in smoky light, - Troy but a heap of smouldering boundary-stones, - ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculeia! - Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prows! - The silver mirrors catch the bright stones and flare, - Dawn, to our waking, drifts in the green cool light; - Dew-haze blurrs, in the grass, pale ankles moving. - Beat, beat, whirr, thud, in the soft turf under the apple trees, - Choros nympharum, goat-foot with the pale foot alternate; - Crescent of blue-shot waters, green-gold in the shallows, - A black cock crows in the sea-foam; - - And by the curved carved foot of the couch, - claw-foot and lion head, an old man seated - Speaking in the low drone: ... - “Ityn! - “Et ter flebiliter. Ityn, Ityn! - “And she went toward the window and cast her down, - “All the while, the while, swallows crying: - “Ityn!” - - ““_It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish._” - ““_It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish?_” - ““_No other taste shall change this._” - - And she went toward the window, - the slim white stone bar - Making a double arch; - Firm even fingers held to the firm pale stone; - Swung for a moment, - and the wind out of Rhodez - Caught in the full of her sleeve. - ... the swallows crying: - “Ityn! Ityn!” - - Actaeon.... - And a valley, - The valley is thick with leaves, with leaves, the trees, - The sunlight glitters, glitters a-top, - Like a fish-scale roof, - Like the church-roof in Poictiers - If it were gold. - Beneath it, beneath it - Not a ray, not a slivver, not a spare disk of sunlight - Flaking the black, soft water; - Bathing the body of nymphs, of nymphs, and Diana, - Nymphs, white-gathered about her, and the air, air, - Shaking, air alight with the goddess - fanning their hair in the dark, - Lifting, lifting and waffing: - Ivory dipping in silver, - Shadow’d, o’ershadow’d - - Ivory dipping in silver, - Not a splotch, not a lost shatter of sunlight. - Then Actaeon: Vidal, - Vidal. It is old Vidal speaking, - stumbling along in the wood, - Not a patch, not a lost shimmer of sunlight, - the pale hair of the goddess. - - The dogs leap on Actaeon, - “Hither, hither, Actaeon,” - Spotted stag of the wood; - Gold, gold, a sheaf of hair, - Thick like a wheat swath, - Blaze, blaze in the sun, - The dogs leap on Actaeon. - - Stumbling, stumbling along in the wood, - Muttering, muttering Ovid: - “Pergusa ... pool ... pool ... Gargaphia, - “Pool, pool of Salmacis.” - The empty armour shakes as the cygnet moves. - Thus the light rains, thus pours, _e lo soleils plovil_, - The liquid, and rushing crystal - whirls up the bright brown sand. - Ply over ply, thin glitter of water; - Brook film bearing white petals - (“The pines of Takasago grow with pines of Isé”) - “Behold the Tree of the Visages.” - The forked tips flaming as if with lotus, - Ply over ply - The shallow eddying fluid - beneath the knees of the gods. - - Torches melt in the glare - Set flame of the corner cook-stall, - Blue agate casing the sky, a sputter of resin; - The saffron sandal petals the narrow foot, Hymenaeus! - Io Hymen, Io Hymenaee! Aurunculeia! - The scarlet flower is cast on the blanch-white stone, - Armaracus, Hill of Urania’s Son. - Meanwhile So-Gioku: - “This wind, sire, is the king’s wind, - this wind is wind of the palace - Shaking imperial water-jets.” - And Ran-Ti, opening his collar: - “This wind roars in the earth’s bag, - it lays the water with rushes; - “No wind is the king’s wind. - Let every cow keep her calf.” - “This wind is held in gauze curtains....” - “No wind is the king’s....” - - The camel drivers sit in the turn of the stairs, - look down to Ecbatan of plotted streets, - “Danae! Danae! - What wind is the king’s?” - Smoke hangs on the stream, - The peach-trees shed bright leaves in the water, - Sound drifts in the evening haze, - The barge scrapes at the ford. - Gilt rafters above black water; - three steps in an open field - Gray stone-posts leading nowhither. - - The Spanish poppies swim in an air of glass. - Père Henri Jacques still seeks the sennin on Rokku. - Polhonac, - As Gyges on Thracian platter, set the feast; - Cabestan, Terreus. - It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish. - Vidal, tracked out with dogs ... for glamour of Loba; - Upon the gilded tower in Ecbatan - Lay the god’s bride, lay ever - Waiting the golden rain. - Et saave! - But to-day, Garonne is thick like paint, beyond Dorada, - The worm of the Procession bores in the soup of the crowd - The blue thin voices against the crash of the crowd - Et “Salve regina.” - - In trellises - Wound over with small flowers, beyond Adige - In the but half-used room, thin film of images, - (by Stefano) - Age of unbodied gods, the vitreous fragile images - Thin as the locust’s wing - Haunting the mind ... as of Guido ... - Thin as the locust’s wing. The Centaur’s heel - Plants in the earth-loam. - - - - -THE FIFTH CANTO - - - Great bulk, huge mass, thesaurus; - Ecbatan, the clock ticks and fades out; - The bride awaiting the god’s touch; Ecbatan, - City of patterned streets; again the vision: - Down in the viae stradae, toga’d the crowd, and arm’d, - Rushing on populous business, and from parapets - Looked down--I looked, and thought: at North - Was Egypt, and the celestial Nile, blue-deep, cutting low barren land, - Old men and camels working the water-wheels; - Measureless seas and stars, - Iamblichus’ light, the souls ascending, - Sparks, like a partridge covey, - From the “ciocco,” brand struck in the game, - “Et omniformis”: - Air, fire, the pale soft light. - Topaz, I manage, and three sorts of blue; - but on the barb of time. - The fire? always, and the vision always, - Ear dull, perhaps, with the vision, flitting - And fading at will. Weaving with points of gold, - Gold-yellow, saffron ... - the Roman shoe, Aurunculeia’s - And come shuffling feet, and cries “Da nuces! - “Nuces” praise and Hymenaeus “brings the girl to her man,” - Titter of sound about me, always - and from Hesperus ... - Hush of the older song: “Fades light from seacrest. - - “And in Lydia walks with pair’d women - “Peerless among the pairs, and that once in Sardis - “In satieties ... - “Fades the light from the sea, and many things - “Are set abroad and brought to mind of thee,” - And the vinestocks lie untended, new leaves come to the shoots, - North wind nips on the bough, and seas in heart - Toss up chill crests, - And the vine stocks lie untended - And many things are set abroad and brought to mind - Of thee, Atthis, unfruitful. - The talks ran long in the night. - - And from Mauleon, fresh with a new earned grade, - In maze of approaching rain-steps, Poicebot-- - The air was full of women. And Savairic Mauleon - Gave him his land and knight’s fee, and he wed the woman. - Came lust of travel on him, of _romerya_; - And out of England a knight with slow-lifting eyelids - _Lei fassa furar a del_, put glamour upon her ... - And left her an eight months gone. - Came lust of woman upon him, - Poicebot, now on North road from Spain - (Sea-change, a grey in the water) - And in small house by town’s edge - Found a woman, changed and familiar face, - Hard night, and parting at morning. - And Pieire won the singing, - Song or land on the throw, Pieire de Maensac, - and was dreitz hom - And had De Tierci’s wife and with the war they made, - Troy in Auvergnat. - - While Menelaus piled up the church at port - He kept Tyndarida. Dauphin stood with de Maensac. - John Borgia is bathed at last. - (Clock-tick pierces the vision) - Tiber, dark with the cloak, wet cat, gleaming in patches. - Click of the hooves, through garbage, - Clutching the greasy stone. “And the cloak floated” - Slander is up betimes. - But Varchi of Florence, - Steeped in a different year, and pondering Brutus, - Then - SIGA MAL AUTHIS DEUTERON! - “Dog-eye!!” (to Alessandro) - “Whether for Love of Florence,” Varchi leaves it, - Saying, “I saw the man, came up with him at Venice, - “I, one wanting the facts, - “And no mean labour. - Or for a privy spite?” - Good Varchi leaves it, - But: “I saw the man. _Se pia?_ - “_O empia?_ For Lorenzaccio had thought of stroke in the open - “But uncertain (for the Duke went never unguarded) ... - “And would have thrown him from wall - “Yet feared this might not end him, or lest Alessandro - “Know not by whom death came, - O si credesse - “If when the foot slipped, when death came upon him, - “Lest cousin Duke Alessandro think he had fallen alone - “No friend to aid him in falling.” - _Caina attende._ - As beneath my feet a lake, was ice in seeming. - - And all of this, runs Varchi, dreamed out before hand - In Perugia, caught in the star-maze by Del Carmine, - Cast on a natal paper, set with an exegesis, told, - All told to Alessandro, told thrice over, - Who held his death for a doom. - In abuleia. - But Don Lorenzino - “Whether for love of Florence ... but: - “O si morisse, credesse caduto da se.” - SIGA, SIGA! - The wet cloak floats on the surface, - Schiavoni, caught on the wood-barge, - Gives out the afterbirth, Giovanni Borgia - Trails out no more at night, where Barabello - Prods the Pope’s elephant, and gets no crown, where Mozarello - Takes the Calabrian roadway, and for ending - Is smothered beneath a mule, - a poet’s ending, - Down a stale well-hole, oh a poet’s ending. “Sanazarro - “Alone out of all the court was faithful to him” - For the gossip of Naples’ trouble drifts to North, - Fracastor (lightning was midwife) Cotta, and Ser D’Alviano, - Al poco giorno ed al gran cerchio d’ombra, - Talk the talks out with Navighero, - Burner of yearly Martials, - (The slavelet is mourned in vain) - And the next comer - says “were nine wounds, - “Four men, white horse with a double rider,” - The hooves clink and slick on the cobbles ... - Schiavoni ... the cloak floats on the water, - “Sink the thing,” splash wakes Schiavoni; - Tiber catching the nap, the moonlit velvet, - Wet cat, gleaming in patches. - “Se pia,” Varchi, - “O empia, ma risoluto - “E terribile deliberazione” - Both sayings run in the wind, - Ma si morisse! - - - - -THE SIXTH CANTO - - - “The tale of thy deeds Odysseus!” and Tolosan - Ground rents, sold by Guillaume, ninth duke of Aquitaine; - Till Louis is wed with Eleanor; the wheel ... - (“Conrad, the wheel turns and in the end turns ill”) - And Acre and boy’s love ... for her uncle was - Commandant at Acre, she was pleased with him; - And Louis, French King, was jealous of days unshared - This pair had had together in years gone; - And he drives on for Zion, as “God wills” - To find, in six weeks time, the Queen’s scarf is - Twisted a-top the casque of Saladin. - “For Sandbrueil’s ransom.” But the pouch-mouths add, - “She went out hunting, and the palm-tufts - “Give shade above mottled columns, and she rode back late, - “Late, latish, yet perhaps it was not too late.” - Then France again, and to be rid of her - To brush his antlers: Poictiers, Aquitaine! - And Adelaide Castilla wears the crown. - Eleanor down water-butt, dethroned, debased, unqueen’d. - Unqueen’d five rare long months, - And face sand-red, pitch gait, Harry Plantagenet, - The sputter in place of speech, - But King, about to be, King Louis! takes a queen. - “E quand lo reis Louis lo entendit - mout er fasché” - And yet Gisors, in six years thence, - Was Marguerite’s. And Harry _joven_ - In pledge for all his life and life of all his heirs - Shall have Gisors and Vexis and Neauphal, Neufchastel; - But if no issue, Gisors shall revert - And Vexis and Neufchastel and Neauphal to the French crown. - “_Si tuit li dol el plor el marrimen - Del mon_ were set together they would seem but light - Against the death of the young English King, - Harry the Young is dead and all men mourn, a song, - Mourn all good courtiers, fighters, cantadors.” - And still Old Harry keeps grip on Gisors - And Neufchastel and Neauphal and Vexis; - And two years war, and never two years go by - but come new forays, and “The wheel - “Turns, Conrad, turns, and in the end toward ill.” - And Richard and Alix span the gap, Gisors, - And Eleanor and Richard face the King, - For the fourth family time Plantagenet - Faces his dam and whelps, ... and holds Gisors, - Now Alix’ dowry, against Philippe-Auguste - (Louis’ by Adelaide, wood-lost, then crowned at Etampe) - And never two years sans war. - And Zion still - Bleating away to Eastward, the lost lamb, - Damned city (was only Frederic knew - The true worth of, and patched with Malek Kamel - The sane and sensible peace to bait the world - And set all camps disgruntled with all leaders. - “Damn’d atheists!” alike Mahomet growls, - And Christ grutches more sullen for Sicilian sense - Than does Mahound on Malek.) - The bright coat - Is more to the era, and in Messina’s beach-way - Des Barres and Richard split the reed-lances - And the coat is torn. - (Moving in heavy air: Henry and Saladin.) - (The serpent coils in the crowd.) - The letters run: Tancred to Richard: - - That the French King is - More against thee, than is his will to me - Good and in faith; and moves against your safety. - - Richard to Tancred: - - That our pact stands firm, - And, for these slanders, that I think you lie. - - Proofs, and in writing: - - And if Bourgogne say they were not - Deliver’d by hand and his, - Let him move sword against me and my word. - - Richard to Philip: silence, with a tone. - - Richard to Flanders: the subjoined and precedent. - - Philip a silence; and then, “Lies and turned lies - “For that he will fail Alix - “Affianced, and Sister to Ourself.” - Richard: “My father’s bed-piece! A Plantagenet - “Mewls on the covers, with a nose like his, already.” - - Then: - - In the Name - Of Father and of Son Triune and Indivisible - Philip of France by Goddes Grace - To all men presents that our noble brother - Richard of England engaged by mutual oath - (a sacred covenant applicable to both) - Need _not_ wed Alix but whomso he choose - We cede him Gisors Neauphal and Vexis - And to the heirs male of his house - Cahors and Querci Richard’s the abbeys ours - Of Figeac and Souillac St. Gilles left still in peace - Alix returns to France. - Made in Messina in - The year 1190 of the Incarnation of the Word. - - Reed lances broken, a cloak torn by Des Barres - Do turn King Richard from the holy wars. - And “God aid Conrad - “For man’s aid comes slow,” Aye tarries upon the road, - En Bertrans cantat. - - And before all this - By Correze, Malemort - A young man walks, at church with galleried porch - By river-marsh, pacing, - He was come from Ventadorn; and Eleanor turning on thirty years, - Domna jauzionda, and he says to her - “My lady of Ventadorn - “Is shut by Eblis in, and will not hawk nor hunt - “Nor get her free in the air, - nor watch fish rise to bait - “Nor the glare-wing’d flies alight in the creek’s edge - “Save in my absence, Madame. - ‘_Que la lauzeta mover_,’ - “Send word, I ask you, to Eblis, - you have seen that maker - “And finder of songs, so far afield as this - “That he may free her, - who sheds such light in the air.” - - - - -THE SEVENTH CANTO - - - Eleanor (she spoiled in a British climate) - ‘Ελανδρος and Ελέπτολις, and poor old Homer - blind, blind as a bat, - Ear, ear for the sea-surge--; rattle of old men’s voices; - And then the phantom Rome, marble narrow for seats - “Si pulvis nullus....” - In chatter above the circus, “Nullum excute tamen.” - Then: file and candles, e li mestiers ecoutes; - Scene--for the battle only,--but still scene, - Pennons and standards y cavals armatz, - Not mere succession of strokes, sightless narration, - To Dante’s “ciocco,” the brand struck in the game. - Un peu moisi, plancher plus bas que le jardin. - Contre le lambris, fauteuil de paille, - Un vieux piano, et sous le baromètre ... - The old men’s voices--beneath the columns of false marble, - And the walls tinted discreet, the modish, darkish green-blue, - Discreeter gilding, and the panelled wood - Not present, but suggested, for the leasehold is - Touched with an imprecision ... about three squares; - The house a shade too solid, and the art - A shade off action, paintings a shade too thick. - And the great domed head, _con gli occhi onesti e tardi_ - Moves before me, phantom with weighted motion, - _Grave incessu_, drinking the tone of things, - And the old voice lifts itself - weaving an endless sentence. - We also made ghostly visits, and the stair - That knew us, found us again on the turn of it, - Knocking at empty rooms, seeking a buried beauty; - And the sun-tanned gracious and well-formed fingers - Lift no latch of bent bronze, no Empire handle - Twists for the knocker’s fall; no voice to answer. - A strange concierge, in place of the gouty-footed. - Sceptic against all this one seeks the living, - Stubborn against the fact. The wilted flowers - Brushed out a seven year since, of no effect. - Damn the partition! Paper, dark brown and stretched, - Flimsy and damned partition. - Ione, dead the long year, - My lintel, and Liu Ch’e’s lintel. - Time blacked out with the rubber. - The Elysée carries a name on - And the bus behind me gives me a date for peg; - Low ceiling and the Erard and silver, - These are in “time.” Four chairs, the bow-front dresser, - The pannier of the desk, cloth top sunk in. - “Beer-bottle on the statue’s pediment! - “That, Fritz, is the era, to-day against the past, - “Contemporary.” And the passion endures. - Against their action, aromas; rooms, against chronicles. - Smaragdos, chrysolitos, De Gama wore striped pants in Africa - And “Mountains of the sea gave birth to troops,” - - Le vieux commode en acajou: - beer bottles of various strata. - But is she as dead as Tyro? In seven years? - Έλέναυς, έλανδρος, έλέπτολις, - The sea runs in the beach-groove, shaking the floated pebbles, - Eleanor! - The scarlet curtain throws a less scarlet shadow; - Lamplight at Buovilla, e quel remir, - And all that day - Nicea moved before me - And the cold gray air troubled her not - For all her naked beauty, bit not the tropic skin, - And the long slender feet lit on the curb’s marge - And her moving height went before me, - We alone having being. - - And all that day, another day: - Thin husks I had known as men, - Dry casques of departed locusts - speaking a shell of speech ... - Propped between chairs and table ... - Words like the locust-shells, moved by no inner being, - A dryness calling for death. - Another day, between walls of a sham Mycenian, - “Toc” sphinxes, sham-Memphis columns, - And beneath the jazz a cortex, a stiffness or stillness; - The older shell, varnished to lemon colour, - Brown-yellow wood, and the no colour plaster, - Dry professorial talk ... - now stilling the ill beat music, - House expulsed by this house, but not extinguished. - Square even shoulders and the satin skin, - Gone cheeks of the dancing woman, - Still the old dead dry talk, gassed out - It is ten years gone, makes stiff about her a glass, - A petrification of air. - The old room of the tawdry class asserts itself. - The young men, never! - Only the husk of talk. - O voi che siete in piccioletta barca, - Dido choked up with sobs for her Sicheus - Lies heavy in my arms, dead weight - Drowning with tears, new Eros, - And the life goes on, mooning upon bare hills; - Flame leaps from the hand, the rain is listless, - Yet drinks the thirst from our lips, - solid as echo, - Passion to breed a form in shimmer of rain-blurr; - But Eros drowned, drowned, heavy-half dead with tears - For dead Sicheus. - Life to make mock of motion: - For the husks, before me, move, - The words rattle: shells given out by shells. - - The live man, out of lands and prisons, - shakes the dry pods, - Probes for old wills and friendships, and the big locust-casques - Bend to the tawdry table, - Lift up their spoons to mouths, put forks in cutlets, - And make sound like the sound of voices. - Lorenzaccio - Being more live than they, more full of flames and voices. - Ma si morisse! - Credesse caduto da se, ma si morisse. - And the tall indifference moves, - a more living shell, - Drift in the air of fate, dry phantom, but intact, - O Alessandro, chief and thrice warned, watcher, - Eternal watcher of things, - Of things, of men, of passions. - Eyes floating in dry, dark air; - E biondo, with glass-gray iris, with an even side-fall of hair - The stiff, still features. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS 1918–21 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Poems 1918–21</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ezra Pound</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 3, 2016 [eBook #51992]<br /> -[Most recently updated: May 21, 2023]</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Bryan Ness, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS 1918–21 ***</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="332" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - -<p class="r"><big><span class="smcap"><b>Poems 1918-21</b></span></big></p> - -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="c"> -<i>Ezra Pound’s work is now contained in the following volumes:</i></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"><i>Poetry</i>:</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1908-1910</td><td align="left">Provenca (<i>U. S. A.</i>) or 1908-1912 Umbra (<i>English</i>)</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1910-1917</td><td align="left">Lustra (American Edition)</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1918-1921</td><td align="left">Poems: Including Three Portraits and Four Cantos</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"><i>Prose</i>:</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1910</td><td align="left">The Spirit of Romance</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1916</td><td align="left">Gaudier Brzeska, a Memoir</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1918</td><td align="left">Pavannes and Divisions</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1920</td><td align="left">Instigations</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"><i>Translations</i>:</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1912</td><td align="left">The Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1916</td><td align="left">From the Mss. of Ernest Fenollosa: Noh</td></tr> -<tr valign="top"><td align="left"> 1921</td><td align="left">Physique de l’Amour by Remy de Gourmont</td></tr> -</table> -</div> - -<h1><span class="smcap">Poems 1918-21</span><br /> -<small><small>INCLUDING</small></small><br /> - -<small><span class="smcap">Three Portraits</span><br /> - -<small><small>AND</small></small><br /> - -<span class="smcap">Four Cantos</span></small></h1> - -<p class="c">BY<br /> -EZRA POUND<br /> -<br /> -BONI <small>AND</small> LIVERIGHT<br /> -PUBLISHERS NEW YORK<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Poems 1918-1921</span><br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1921, by<br /> -Boni and Liveright, Inc.</span><br /> -<br /> -<small>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</small></p> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Certain poems in this volume have appeared in “The Dial,” “The New -Age,” “The Little Review,” “Poetry,” and private issues of Egoist -and Ovid Press.</i></p></div> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c"><i>PORTRATS</i></td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td>1.</td><td class="smcap"> <a href="#HOMAGE_TO_SEXTUS_PROPERTIUS">Homage To Sextus Propertius</a></td></tr> -<tr> <td> </td> <td>[i-xii]</td></tr> - -<tr><td>2.</td><td class="smcap"> <a href="#LANGUE_DOC">Langue D’oc</a></td></tr> - <tr> <td> </td> <td>[i-v]</td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td> <td><i><a href="#MOEURS_CONTEMPORAINES">Moeurs Contemporaine</a>s</i></td></tr> -<tr><td> </td> <td>[i-viii]</td></tr> - -<tr><td>3.</td><td class="smcap"> <a href="#HUGH_SELWYN_MAUBERLEY">Hugh Selwyn Mauberley</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">Part I.</td></tr> - -<tr><td><i><a href="#ODE_POUR_LELECTION_DE_SON_SEPULCHRE">Ode pour l’élection de son sépulchre </a></i></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#II.">II.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#III.">III.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IV.">IV.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#V.">V.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><i><a href="#YEUX_GLAUQUES">Yeux Glauques</a></i></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“<i><a href="#SIENA_MI_FE_DISFECEMI_MAREMMA">Siena mi fe, disfecemi Maremma</a></i>”</td></tr> - -<tr><td><i><a href="#BRENNBAUM">Brennbaum</a></i></td></tr> - -<tr><td><i><a href="#MR_NIXON">Mr. Nixon</a></i></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#X.">X.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#XI.">XI.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#XII.">XII.</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">———</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c"><a href="#ENVOI_1919">ENVOI</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">1919</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">Part II.</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">1920</td></tr> - -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">(Mauberley)</td></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td><a href="#I">I.</a> </td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#II">II.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“<i><a href="#THE_AGE_DEMANDED">The age demanded</a></i>”</td></tr> - -<tr><td><a href="#IV">IV.</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><i><a href="#MEDALLION">Medallion</a></i></td></tr> -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c">———</td></tr> -<tr><td colspan="3" class="c"><i>CANTOS</i></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FOURTH_CANTO">The Fourth Canto</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FIFTH_CANTO">The Fifth Canto</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SIXTH_CANTO">The Sixth Canto</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SEVENTH_CANTO">The Seventh Canto</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<h2><a name="HOMAGE_TO_SEXTUS_PROPERTIUS"></a>HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">S</span>HADES of Callimachus, Coan ghosts of Philetas<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is in your grove I would walk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I who come first from the clear font<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bringing the Grecian orgies into Italy,<br /> and the dance into Italy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who hath taught you so subtle a measure,<br /> - in what hall have you heard it;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What foot beat out your time-bar, what water has mellowed your whistles?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out-weariers of Apollo will, as we know, continue their Martian generalities.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">We have kept our erasers in order,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A new-fangled chariot follows the flower-hung horses;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A young Muse with young loves clustered about her<br /> - ascends with me into the aether, ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there is no high-road to the Muses.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Annalists will continue to record Roman reputations,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Celebrities from the Trans-Caucasus will belaud Roman celebrities<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And expound the distentions of Empire,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But for something to read in normal circumstances?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a few pages brought down from the forked hill unsullied?<br /></span> -<span class="i8">I ask a wreath which will not crush my head.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">And there is no hurry about it;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall have, doubtless, a boom after my funeral,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeing that long standing increases all things regardless of quality.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And who would have known the towers<br /> - pulled down by a deal-wood horse;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or of Achilles withstaying waters by Simois<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or of Hector spattering wheel-rims,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Or of Polydmantus, by Scamander, or Helenus and Deiphoibos?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their door-yards would scarcely know them, or Paris.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Small talk O Ilion, and O Troad<br /> - twice taken by Oetian gods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If Homer had not stated your case!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I also among the later nephews of this city<br /> - shall have my dog’s day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With no stone upon my contemptible sepulchre,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My vote coming from the temple of Phoebus in Lycia, at Patara,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the mean time my songs will travel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the devirginated young ladies will enjoy them<br /> - when they have got over the strangeness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Orpheus tamed the wild beasts— -<br />and held up the Threician river;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Citharaon shook up the rocks by Thebes and danced them into a bulwark at his pleasure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you, O Polyphemus? Did harsh Galatea almost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn to your dripping horses, because of a tune, under Aetna?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We must look into the matter.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bacchus and Apollo in favour of it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There will be a crowd of young women doing homage to my palaver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though my house is not propped up by Taenarian columns from Laconia<br /> - (associated with Neptune and Cerberus),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though it is not stretched upon gilded beams;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My orchards do not lie level and wide<br /></span> -<span class="i12">as the forests of Phaecia,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">the luxurious and Ionian,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor are my caverns stuffed stiff with a Marcian vintage,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">(My cellar does not date from Numa Pompilius,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor bristle with wine jars)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet the companions of the Muses<br /></span> -<span class="i10">will keep their collective nose in my books,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weary with historical data, they will turn to my dance tune.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Happy who are mentioned in my pamphlets, the songs shall be a fine tomb-stone over their beauty.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">But against this?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neither expensive pyramids scraping the stars in their route,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor houses modelled upon that of Jove in East Elis,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor the monumental effigies of Mausolus,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">are a complete elucidation of death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flame burns, rain sinks into the cracks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they all go to rack ruin beneath the thud of the years.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Stands genius a deathless adornment,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">a name not to be worn out with the years.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">I</span> HAD been seen in the shade, recumbent on cushioned Helicon,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">the water dripping from Bellerophon’s horse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alba, your kings, and the realm your folk<br /></span> -<span class="i6">have constructed with such industry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall be yawned out on my lyre—with such industry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My little mouth shall gobble in such great fountains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Wherefrom father Ennius, sitting before I came, hath drunk.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I had rehearsed the Curian brothers, and made remarks on the Horatian javelin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Near Q. H. Flaccus’ book-stall).<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Of” royal Aemilia, drawn on the memorial raft,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Of” the victorious delay of Fabius, and the left-handed<br /></span> -<span class="i12">battle at Cannae,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of lares fleeing the “Roman seat” ...<br /></span> -<span class="i10">I had sung of all these<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of Hannibal,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and of Jove protected by geese.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Phoebus looking upon me from the Castalian tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Said then “You idiot! What are you doing with that water;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Who has ordered a book about heroes?<br /></span> -<span class="i8">You need, Propertius, not think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“About acquiring that sort of a reputation.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">“Soft fields must be worn by small wheels,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Your pamphlets will be thrown, thrown often into a chair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Where a girl waits alone for her lover;<br /></span> -<span class="i5">“Why wrench your page out of its course?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“No keel will sink with your genius<br /></span> -<span class="i5">“Let another oar churn the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Another wheel, the arena; mid-crowd is as bad as mid-sea.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He had spoken, and pointed me a place with his plectrum:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Orgies of vintages, an earthern image of Silenus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strengthened with rushes, Tegaean Pan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The small birds of the Cytharean mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">their Punic faces dyed in the Gorgon’s lake;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nine girls, from as many countrysides<br /></span> -<span class="i4">bearing her offerings in their unhardened hands,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Such my cohort and setting. And she bound ivy to his thyrsos;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fitted song to the strings;<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Roses twined in her hands.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one among them looked at me with face offended,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calliope:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Content ever to move with white swans!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor will the noise of high horses lead you ever to battle;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor will the public criers ever have your name<br /></span> -<span class="i12">in their classic horns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor Mars shout you in the wood at Aeonium,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Nor where Rome ruins German riches,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor where the Rhine flows with barbarous blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and flood carries wounded Suevi.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Obviously crowned lovers at unknown doors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Night dogs, the marks of a drunken scurry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“These are your images, and from you the sorcerizing<br /></span> -<span class="i10">of shut-in young ladies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The wounding of austere men by chicane.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i5">Thus Mistress Calliope,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Dabbling her hands in the fount, thus she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stiffened our face with the backwash of Philetas the Coan.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">M</span>IDNIGHT, and a letter comes to me from our mistress:<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Telling me to come to Tibur, <i>At</i> once!!:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Bright tips reach up from twin towers,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Anienan spring water falls into flat-spread pools.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What <i>is</i> to be done about it?<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Shall I entrust myself to entangled shadows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where bold hands may do violence to my person?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet if I postpone my obedience<br /></span> -<span class="i6">because of this respectable terror<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall be prey to lamentations worse than a nocturnal assailant.<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>And</i> I shall be in the wrong,<br /></span> -<span class="i6"><i>and</i> it will last a twelve month,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For her hands have no kindness me-ward,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nor is there anyone to whom lovers are not sacred at midnight<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And in the Via Sciro.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If any man would be a lover<br /></span> -<span class="i5">he may walk on the Scythian coast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No barbarism would go to the extent of doing him harm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon will carry his candle,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">the stars will point out the stumbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cupid will carry lighted torches before him<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and keep mad dogs off his ankles.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus all roads are perfectly safe<br /></span> -<span class="i6">and at any hour;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who so indecorous as to shed the pure gore of a suitor? I<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Cypris is his cicerone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What if undertakers follow my track,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">such a death is worth dying.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She would bring frankincense and wreaths to my tomb,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">She would sit like an ornament on my pyre.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gods’ aid, let not my bones lie in a public location<br /></span> -<span class="i4">with crowds too assiduous in their crossing of it;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thus are tombs of lovers most desecrated.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">May a woody and sequestered place cover me with its foliage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or may I inter beneath the hummock<br /></span> -<span class="i4">of some as yet uncatalogued sand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At any rate I shall not have my epitaph in a high road.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV<br /><br /> -DIFFERENCE OF OPINION WITH LYGDAMUS</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>ELL me the truths which you hear of our constant young lady,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Lygdamus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And may the bought yoke of a mistress lie with<br /></span> -<span class="i5">equitable weight on your shoulders;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I am swelled up with inane pleasurabilities<br /></span> -<span class="i6">and deceived by your reference<br /></span> -<span class="i8">To things which you think I would like to believe.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No messenger should come wholly empty,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and a slave should fear plausibilities;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Much conversation is as good as having a home.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Out with it, tell it to me, all of it, from the beginning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I guzzle with outstretched ears.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus? She wept into uncombed hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And you saw it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vast waters flowed from her eyes?<br /></span> -<span class="i10">You, you Lygdamus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saw her stretched on her bed,—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">it was no glimpse in a mirror;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No gawds on her snowy hands, no orfevrerie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sad garment draped on her slender arms.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her escritoires lay shut by the bed-feet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sadness hung over the house, and the desolated female attendants<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were desolated because she had told them her dreams.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She was veiled in the midst of that place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Damp wooly handkerchiefs were stuffed into her undryable eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a querulous noise responded to our solicitous reprobations.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">For which things you will get a reward from me, -Lygdamus?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To say many things is equal to having a home.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the other woman “has not enticed me<br /></span> -<span class="i12">by her pretty manners,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“She has caught me with herbaceous poison,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">she twiddles the spiked wheel of a rhombus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“She stews puffed frogs, snake’s bones, the moulded feathers of screech owls,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“She binds me with ravvles of shrouds.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“Black spiders spin in her bed!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Let her lovers snore at her in the morning!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“May the gout cramp up her feet!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Does he like me to sleep here alone, Lygdamus?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Will he say nasty things at my funeral?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And you expect me to believe this<br /></span> -<span class="i5">after twelve months of discomfort?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<h4>1</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">N</span>OW if ever it is time to cleanse Helicon;<br /></span> -<span class="i8">to lead Emathian horses afield,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to name over the census of my chiefs in the Roman camp.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I have not the faculty, “The bare attempt would be praise-worthy.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“In things of similar magnitude<br /></span> -<span class="i6">the mere will to act is sufficient.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The primitive ages sang Venus,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">the last sings of a tumult,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I also will sing war when this matter of a girl is exhausted.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I with my beak hauled ashore would proceed in a more stately manner,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Muse is eager to instruct me in a new gamut, or gambetto,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up, up my soul, from your lowly cantilation,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">put on a timely vigour,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh august Pierides! Now for a large-mouthed product.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The Euphrates denies its protection to the Parthian<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and apologizes for Crassus,”<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And “It is, I think, India which now gives necks to your triumph,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so forth, Augustus. “Virgin Arabia shakes in her inmost dwelling.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If any land shrink into a distant seacoast,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">it is a mere postponement of your domination,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I shall follow the camp, I shall be duly celebrated,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">for singing the affairs of your cavalry.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May the fates watch over my day.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>2</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yet you ask on what account I write so many love-lyrics<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And whence this soft book comes into my mouth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neither Calliope nor Apollo sung these things into my ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">My genius is no more than a girl.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If she with ivory fingers drive a tune through the lyre,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We look at the process<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How easy the moving fingers; if hair is mussed on her forehead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she goes in a gleam of Cos, in a slither of dyed stuff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is a volume in the matter; if her eyelids sink into sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are new jobs for the author,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if she plays with me with her shirt off,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We shall construct many Iliads.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whatever she does or says<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We shall spin long yarns out of nothing,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus much the fates have allotted me, and if, Maecenas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I were able to lead heroes into armour, I would not,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neither would I warble of Titans, nor of Ossa<br /></span> -<span class="i12">spiked onto Olympus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of causeways over Pelion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of Thebes in its ancient respectability,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">nor of Homer’s reputation in Pergamus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of Xerxes’ two-barreled kingdom, nor of Remus and his royal family,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of dignified Carthaginian characters,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of Welsh mines and the profit Marus had out of them.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I should remember Caesar’s affairs ...<br /></span> -<span class="i12">for a background,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although Callimachus did without them,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and without Theseus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without an inferno, without Achilles attended of gods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without Ixion, and without the sons of Menoetius and<br /> - the Argo and without Jove’s grave and the Titans.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And my ventricles do not palpitate to Caesarial <i>ore rotundos</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor to the tune of the Phrygian fathers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sailor, of winds; a plowman, concerning his oxen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soldier, the enumeration of wounds; the sheep-feeder, of ewes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We, in our narrow bed, turning aside from battles:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each man where he can, wearing out the day in his manner.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>3</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is noble to die of love, and honourable to remain<br /></span> -<span class="i10">uncuckolded for a season.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she speaks ill of light women,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and will not praise Homer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because Helen’s conduct is “unsuitable.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN, when, and whenever death closes our eyelids,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Moving naked over Acheron<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Upon the one raft, victor and conquered together,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marius and Jugurtha together,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">one tangle of shadows.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Caesar plots against India,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tigris and Euphrates shall, from now on, flow at his bidding,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tibet shall be full of Roman policemen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Parthians shall get used to our statuary<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and acquire a Roman religion;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One raft on the veiled flood of Acheron,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Marius and Jugurtha together.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nor at my funeral either will there be any long trail,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">bearing ancestral lares and images;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No trumpets filled with my emptiness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor shall it be on an Atalic bed;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The perfumed cloths shall be absent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A small plebeian procession.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Enough, enough and in plenty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There will be three books at my obsequies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which I take, my not unworthy gift, to Persephone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You will follow the bare scarified breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor will you be weary of calling my name, nor too weary<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To place the last kiss on my lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the Syrian onyx is broken.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">“He who is now vacant dust<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“Was once the slave of one passion:”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give that much inscription<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“Death why tardily come?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You, sometimes, will lament a lost friend,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">For it is a custom:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This care for past men,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Since Adonis was gored in <span class="smcap">Idalia</span>, and the Cytharean<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ran crying with out-spread hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">In vain, you call back the shade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In vain, Cynthia. Vain call to unanswering shadow,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Small talk comes from small bones.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">M</span>E happy, night, night full of brightness;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh couch made happy by my long delectations;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How many words talked out with abundant candles;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Struggles when the lights were taken away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now with bared breasts she wrestled against me,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Tunic spread in delay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she then opening my eyelids fallen in sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her lips upon them; and it was her mouth saying:<br /> -Sluggard!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In how many varied embraces, our changing arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her kisses, how many, lingering on my lips.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Turn not Venus into a blinded motion,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Eyes are the guides of love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Paris took Helen naked coming from the bed of Menelaus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Endymion’s naked body, bright bait for Diana,”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">—such at least is the story.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While our fates twine together, sate we our eyes with love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For long night comes upon you<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and a day when no day returns.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let the gods lay chains upon us<br /></span> -<span class="i6">so that no day shall unbind them.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fool who would set a term to love’s madness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the sun shall drive with black horses,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">earth shall bring wheat from barley,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flood shall move toward the fountain<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Ere love know moderations,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The fish shall swim in dry streams.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, now while it may be, let not the fruit of life cease.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Dry wreaths drop their petals,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">their stalks are woven in baskets,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">To-day we take the great breath of lovers,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">to-morrow fate shuts us in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though you give all your kisses<br /></span> -<span class="i12">you give but a few.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nor can I shift my pains to other<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Hers will I be dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she confers such nights upon me,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">long is my life, long in years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If she give me many,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">God am I for the time.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">J</span>OVE, be merciful to that unfortunate woman<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Or an ornamental death will be held to your debit,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The time is come, the air heaves in torridity,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The dry earth pants against the canicular heat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But this heat is not the root of the matter:<br /></span> -<span class="i3">She did not respect all the gods;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such derelictions have destroyed other young ladies aforetime,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And what they swore in the cupboard<br /></span> -<span class="i10">wind and wave scattered away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Was Venus exacerbated by the existence of a comparable equal?<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Is the ornamental goddess full of envy?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Have you contempted Juno’s Pelasgian temples,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Have you denied Pallas good eyes?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or is it my tongue that wrongs you<br /></span> -<span class="i10">with perpetual ascription of graces?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There comes, it seems, and at any rate<br /></span> -<span class="i3">through perils, (so many) and of a vexed life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gentler hour of an ultimate day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Io mooed the first years with averted head,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And now drinks Nile water like a god,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ino in her young days fled pellmell out of Thebes,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Andromeda was offered to a sea-serpent<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and respectably married to Perseus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Callisto, disguised as a bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">wandered through the Arcadian prairies<br /></span> -<span class="i3">While a black veil was over her stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What if your fates are accelerated;<br /></span> -<span class="i8">your quiet hour put forward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You may find interment pleasing,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You will say that you succumbed to a danger identical,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">charmingly identical, with Semele’s,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And believe it, and she also will believe it,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">being expert from experience,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And amid all the gloried and storied beauties of Maeonia<br /></span> -<span class="i3">There shall be none in a better seat, not one denying your prestige,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now you may bear fate’s stroke unperturbed,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Or Jove, harsh as he is, may turn aside your ultimate day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old lecher, let not Juno get wind of the matter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or perhaps Juno herself will go under,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">If the young lady is taken?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There will be, in any case, a stir on Olympus.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX</h3> - -<h4>1</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HE twisted rhombs ceased their clamour of accompaniment;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon still declined to descend out of heaven,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the black omnious owl hoot was audible.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And one raft bears our fates<br /></span> -<span class="i8">on the veiled lake toward Avernus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sails spread on Cerulean waters, I would shed tears for two;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall live, if she continue in life,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">If she dies, I shall go with her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great Zeus, save the woman,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">or she will sit before your feet in a veil,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and tell out the long list of her troubles.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>2</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Persephone and Dis, Dis, have mercy upon her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are enough women in hell,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">quite enough beautiful women,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Iope, and Tyro, and Pasiphae, and the formal girls of Achaia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of Troad, and from the Campania,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death has its tooth in the lot,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Avernus lusts for the lot of them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beauty is not eternal, no man has perennial fortune,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow foot, or swift foot, death delays but for a season.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>3</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My light, light of my eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">you are escaped from great peril,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go back to Great Dian’s dances bearing suitable gifts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pay up your vow of night watches<br /></span> -<span class="i10">to Dian goddess of virgins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unto me also pay debt: the ten nights of your company you have promised me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">L</span>IGHT, light of my eyes, at an exceeding late hour<br /></span> -<span class="i3">I was wandering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And intoxicated,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and no servant was leading me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a minute crowd of small boys came from opposite,<br /></span> -<span class="i12">I do not know what boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I am afraid of numerical estimate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some of them shook little torches,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and others held onto arrows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the rest laid their chains upon me,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and they were naked, the lot of them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one of the lot was given to lust.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“That incensed female has consigned him to our pleasure.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So spoke. And the noose was over my neck.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And another said “Get him plumb in the middle!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">“Shove along there, shove along!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And another broke in upon this:<br /></span> -<span class="i8">“He thinks that we are not gods.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And she has been waiting for the scoundrel,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and in a new Sidonian night cap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with more than Arabian odours,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">God knows where he has been,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She could scarcely keep her eyes open<br /></span> -<span class="i12">enter that much for his bail.<br /></span> -<span class="i14">Get along now!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We were coming near to the house,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and they gave another yank to my cloak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it was morning, and I wanted to see if she was alone, and resting,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Cynthia was alone in her bed.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">I was stupefied.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had never seen her looking so beautiful<br /></span> -<span class="i4">No, not when she was tunick’d in purple.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Such aspect was presented to me, me recently emerged from my visions,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You will observe that pure form has its value.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“You are a very early inspector of mistresses.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Do you think I have adopted your habits?”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">There were upon the bed no signs of a voluptuous encounter,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">No signs of a second incumbent.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She continued:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“No incubus has crushed his body against me,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Though spirits are celebrated for adultery.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“And I am going to the temple of Vesta ...”<br /></span> -<span class="i12">and so on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Since that day I have had no pleasant nights.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XI</h3> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HE harsh acts of your levity!<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Many and many.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am hung here, a scare-crow for lovers.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>2</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Escape! There is, O Idiot, no escape,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flee if you like into Ranaus,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">desire will follow you thither,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though you heave into the air upon the gilded Pegasean back,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Though you had the feathery sandals of Perseus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lift you up through split air,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The high tracks of Hermes would not afford you shelter.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Amor stands upon you, Love drives upon lovers,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">a heavy mass on free necks.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is our eyes you flee, not the city,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You do nothing, you plot inane schemes against me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Languidly you stretch out the snare<br /></span> -<span class="i5">with which I am already familiar,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And yet again, and newly rumour strikes on my ears,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rumours of you throughout the city,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">and no good rumour among them.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“You should not believe hostile tongues,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Beauty is slander’s cock-shy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“All lovely women have known this,”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Your glory is not outblotted by venom,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Phoebus our witness, your hands are unspotted,”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A foreign lover brought down Helen’s kingdom,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">and she was led back, living, home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Cytharean brought low by Mars’ lechery<br /></span> -<span class="i6">reigns in respectable heavens, ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh, oh, and enough of this,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">by dew-spread caverns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Muses clinging to the mossy ridges;<br /></span> -<span class="i10">to the ledge of the rocks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Zeus’ clever rapes, in the old days,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">combusted Semele’s, of Io strayed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of how the bird flew from Trojan rafters,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Ida has lain with a shepherd, she has slept between sheep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Even there, no escape<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not the Hyrcanian seabord, not in seeking the shore of Eos.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All things are forgiven for one night of your games....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though you walk in the Via Sacra, with a peacock’s tail for a fan.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">W</span>HO, who will be the next man to entrust his girl to a friend?<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Love interferes with fidelities;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gods have brought shame on their relatives;<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Each man wants the pomegranate for himself;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amiable and harmonious people are pushed incontinent into duels,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A Trojan and adulterous person came to Menelaus under the rites of hospitium,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there was a case in Colchis, Jason and that woman in Colchis;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And besides, Lynceus,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">you were drunk.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Could you endure such promiscuity?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She was not renowned for fidelity;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But to jab a knife in my vitals, to have passed on a swig of poison,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Preferable, my dear boy, my dear Lynceus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comrade, comrade of my life, of my purse, of my person;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in one bed, in one bed alone, my dear Lynceus<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I deprecate your attendance;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would ask a like boon of Jove.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And you write of Achelöus, who contended with Hercules,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You write of Adrastus’ horses and the funeral rites of Achenor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you will not leave off imitating Aeschylus.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Though you make a hash of Antimachus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You think you are going to do Homer.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And still a girl scorns the gods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all these young women<br /></span> -<span class="i4">not one has enquired the cause of the world,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor the modus of lunar eclipses<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Nor whether there be any patch left of us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">After we cross the infernal ripples,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">nor if the thunder fall from predestination;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor anything else of importance.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Upon the Actian marshes Virgil is Phoebus’ chief of police,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He can tabulate Caesar’s great ships.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He thrills to Ilian arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">He shakes the Trojan weapons of Aeneas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And casts stores on Lavinian beaches.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Make way, ye Roman authors,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">clear the street O ye Greeks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a much larger Iliad is in the course of construction<br /></span> -<span class="i12">(and to Imperial order)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clear the streets O ye Greeks!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And you also follow him “neath Phrygian pine shade:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Thyrsis and Daphnis upon whittled reeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And how ten sins can corrupt young maidens;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Kids for a bribe and pressed udders,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Happy selling poor loves for cheap apples.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tityrus might have sung the same vixen;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Corydon tempted Alexis,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Head farmers do likewise, and lying weary amid their oats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They get praise from tolerant Hamadryads.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Go on, to Ascraeus’ prescription, the ancient,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">respected, Wordsworthian:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A flat field for rushes, grapes grow on the slope.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And behold me, small fortune left in my house.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Me, who had no general for a grandfather!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall triumph among young ladies of indeterminate character,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My talent acclaimed in their banquets,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I shall be honoured with yesterday’s wreaths.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the god strikes to the marrow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Like a trained and performing tortoise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would make verse in your fashion, if she should command it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With her husband asking a remission of sentence,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And even this infamy would not attract numerous readers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were there an erudite or violent passion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the nobleness of the populace brooks nothing below its own altitude.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One must have resonance, resonance and sonority ...<br /></span> -<span class="i12">like a goose.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Varro sang Jason’s expedition,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Varro, of his great passion Leucadia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is song in the parchment; Catullus the highly indecorous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Lesbia, known above Helen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the dyed pages of Calvus,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Calvus mourning Quintilia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And but now Gallus had sung of Lycoris.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Fair, fairest Lycoris—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The waters of Styx poured over the wound:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now Propertius of Cynthia, taking his stand among these.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LANGUE_DOC"></a>LANGUE D’OC</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Alba</i></span><br /> -<span class="i0"><i><span class="letra">W</span>HEN the nightingale to his mate</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Sings day-long and night late</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>My love and I keep state</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>In bower,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>In flower,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>’Till the watchman on the tower</i><br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>Cry:</i><br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>“Up! Thou rascal, Rise,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>I see the white</i><br /></span> -<span class="i5"><i>Light</i><br /></span> -<span class="i5"><i>And the night</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8"><i>Flies.”</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<p class="c"><i>Compleynt of a gentleman who has been waiting outside for some time</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">O</span> PLASMATOUR and true celestial light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lord powerful, engirdled all with might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give my good-fellow aid in fools’ despite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who stirs not forth this night,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">And day comes on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Sst! my good fellow, art awake or sleeping?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleep thou no more. I see the star upleaping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hath the dawn in keeping,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">And day comes on!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Hi! Harry, hear me, for I sing aright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleep not thou now, I hear the bird in flight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That plaineth of the going of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">And day comes on!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Come now! Old swenkin! Rise up, from thy bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I see the signs upon the welkin spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If thou come not, the cost be on thy head.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">And day comes on!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And here I am since going down of sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pray to God that is St. Mary’s son,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bring thee safe back, my companion.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">And day comes on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And thou out here beneath the porch of stone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Badest me to see that a good watch was done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now thou’lt none of me, and wilt have none<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Of song of mine.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">(<i>Bass voice from within.</i>)</span><br /> -<span class="i0">“Wait, my good fellow. For such joy I take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With her venust and noblest to my make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hold embraced, and will not her forsake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For yammer of the cuckold,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Though day break.”<br /></span> -<span class="i10">(<i>Girart Bornello.</i>)<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Avril</i></span><br /> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN the springtime is sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the birds repeat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their new song in the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis meet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A man go where he will.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But from where my heart is set<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No message I get;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart all wakes and grieves;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Defeat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or luck, I must have my fill.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our love comes out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the branch that turns about<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the top of the hawthorne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With frost and hail at night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suffers despite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Till the sun come, and the green leaf on the bough.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember the young day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we set strife away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she gave me such gesning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her love and her ring:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God grant I die not by any man’s stroke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Till I have my hand ’neath her cloak.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I care not for their clamour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who have come between me and my charmer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I know how words run loose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Big talk and little use.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spoilers of pleasure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We take their measure.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">(<i>Guilhem de Peitieu.</i>)<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<p class="c"><i>Descant on a Theme by Cerclamon</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">W</span>HEN the sweet air goes bitter,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the cold birds twitter<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where the leaf falls from the twig,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I sough and sing<br /></span> -<span class="i4">that Love goes out<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Leaving me no power to hold him.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Of love I have naught<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save troubles and sad thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nothing is grievous<br /></span> -<span class="i8">as I desirous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wanting only what<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No man can get or has got.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With the noblest that stands in men’s sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If all the world be in despite<br /></span> -<span class="i3">I care not a glove.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where my love is, there is a glitter of sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God give me life, and let my course run<br /></span> -<span class="i3">’Till I have her I love<br /></span> -<span class="i3">To lie with and prove.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I do not live, nor cure me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor feel my ache—great as it is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For love will give<br /></span> -<span class="i8">me no respite,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor do I know when I turn left or right<br /></span> -<span class="i12">nor when I go out.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">For in her is all my delight<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And all that can save me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I shake and burn and quiver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From love, awake and in swevyn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such fear I have she deliver<br /></span> -<span class="i10">me not from pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Who know not how to ask her;<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Who can not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two years, three years I seek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though I fear to speak out,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Still she must know it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If she won’t have me now, Death is my portion,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Would I had died that day<br /></span> -<span class="i3">I came into her sway.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God! How softly this kills!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When her love look steals on me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Killed me she has, I know not how it was,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">For I would not look on a woman.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Joy I have none, if she make me not mad<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Or set me quiet, or bid me chatter.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good is it to me if she flout<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Or turn me inside out, and about.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">My ill doth she turn sweet.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">How swift it is.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">For I am traist and loose,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">I am true, or a liar,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">All vile, or all gentle,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Or shaking between,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">as she desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I, Cerclamon, sorry and glad,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">The man whom love had<br /></span> -<span class="i12">and has ever;<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Alas! who’er it please or pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">She can me retain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am gone from one joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From one I loved never so much,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">She by one touch<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Reft me away;<br /></span> -<span class="i3">So doth bewilder me<br /></span> -<span class="i3">I can not say my say<br /></span> -<span class="i12">nor my desire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when she looks on me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems to me<br /></span> -<span class="i10">I lose all wit and sense.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The noblest girls men love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Gainst her I prize not as a glove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worn and old.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though the whole world run rack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And go dark with cloud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where she stands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a clamour loud<br /></span> -<span class="i12">in my ears.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> - -<span class="im"><i>Vergier</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In orchard under the hawthorne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She has her lover till morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the traist man cry out to warn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Them. God how swift the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And day comes on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Plasmatour, that thou end not the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor take my belovéd from my sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor I, nor tower-man, look on daylight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Fore God, How swift the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And day comes on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Lovely thou art, to hold me close and kisst,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now cry the birds out, in the meadow mist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Despite the cuckold, do thou as thou list,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So swiftly goes the night<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And day comes on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“My pretty boy, make we our play again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here in the orchard where the birds complain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Till the traist watcher his song unrein,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah God! How swift the night<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And day comes on.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Out of the wind that blows from her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dancing and gentle is and Thereby pleasanter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have I drunk a draught, sweeter than scent of myrrh.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ah God! How swift the night.<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And day comes on.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Venust the lady, and none lovelier,</i><br /></span> -<span class="im"><i>For her great beauty, many men look on her,</i><br /></span> -<span class="im"><i>Out of my love will her heart not stir.</i><br /></span> -<span class="im"><i>By God, how swift the night.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i10"><i>And day comes on.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Canzon</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">I</span> ONLY, and who elrische pain support<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Know out love’s heart o’erborne by overlove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For my desire that is so firm and straight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unchanged since I found her in my sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unturned since she came within my glance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That far from her my speech springs up aflame;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Near her comes not. So press the words to arrest it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am blind to others, and their retort<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hear not. In her alone, I see, move,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wonder.... And jest not. And the words dilate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not truth; but mouth speaks not the heart outright:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not walk roads, flats, dales, hills, by chance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find charm’s sum within one single frame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As God hath set in her t’assay and test it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I have passed in many a goodly court<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find in hers more charm than rumour thereof ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In solely hers. Measure and sense to mate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Youth and beauty learned in all delight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gentrice did nurse her up, and so advance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her fair beyond all reach of evil fame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To clear her worth, no shadow hath oppresst it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her contact flats not out, falls not off short....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let her, I pray, guess out the sense hereof<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For never will it stand in open prate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until my inner heart stand in daylight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So that heart pools him when her eyes entrance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As never doth the Rhone, fulled and untame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pool, where the freshest tumult hurl to crest it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Flimsy another’s joy, false and distort,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No paregale that she springs not above ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her love-touch by none other mensurate.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To have it not? Alas! Though the pains bite<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep, torture is but galzeardy and dance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For in my thought my lust hath touched his aim.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God! Shall I get no more! No fact to best it!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No delight I, from now, in dance or sport,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor will these toys a tinkle of pleasure prove,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Compared to her, whom no loud profligate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall leak abroad how much she makes my right.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is this too much? If she count not mischance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What I have said, then no. But if she blame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then tear ye out the tongue that hath expresst it.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The song begs you: Count not this speech ill chance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if you count the song worth your acclaim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Arnaut cares lyt who praise or who contest it.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">(<i>Arnaut Daniel, a. d. about 1190.</i>)<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MOEURS_CONTEMPORAINES"></a>MOEURS CONTEMPORAINES</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<h4> 1</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Mr. Styrax</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">M</span>R. HECATOMB STYRAX, the owner of a large estate<br /></span> -<span class="i6">and of large muscles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A “blue” and a climber of mountains, has married<br /></span> -<span class="i8">at the age of 28,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He being at that age a virgin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The term “virgo” being made male in mediaeval latinity;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His ineptitudes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have driven his wife from one religious excess to another.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She has abandoned the vicar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he was lacking in vehemence;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She is now the high-priestess<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a modern and ethical cult,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And even now Mr. Styrax<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Does not believe in aesthetics.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>2</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His brother has taken to gipsies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the son-in-law of Mr. H. Styrax<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Objects to perfumed cigarettes.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In the parlance of Niccolo Macchiavelli,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Thus things proceed in their circle”;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And thus the empire is maintained.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Clara</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>T sixteen she was a potential celebrity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a distaste for caresses.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She now writes to me from a convent;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her life is obscure and troubled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her second husband will not divorce her;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her mind is, as ever, uncultivated,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And no issue presents itself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She does not desire her children,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or any more children.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her ambition is vague and indefinite,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She will neither stay in, nor come out.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Soirée</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">U</span>PON learning that the mother wrote verses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that the father wrote verses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that the youngest son was in a publisher’s office,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that the friend of the second daughter<br /></span> -<span class="i10">was undergoing a novel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young American pilgrim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exclaimed:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“This is a darn’d clever bunch!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Sketch 48 b.</i> <span class="smcap">II</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>T the age of 27<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its home mail is still opened by its maternal parent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And its office mail may be opened by<br /></span> -<span class="i8">its parent of the opposite gender.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is an officer,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">and a gentleman,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and an architect.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<h4>1</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im">“<i>Nodier raconte ...</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>T a friend of my wife’s there is a photograph,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A faded, pale, brownish photograph,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the times when the sleeves were large,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silk, stiff and large above the <i>lacertus</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is, the upper arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And décolleté....<br /></span> -<span class="i8">It is a lady,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sits at a harp,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Playing,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And by her left foot, in a basket,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is an infant, aged about 14 months,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The infant beams at the parent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The parent re-beams at its offspring.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The basket is lined with satin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is a satin-like bow on the harp.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h4>2</h4> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And in the home of the novelist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is a satin-like bow on an harp.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You enter and pass hall after hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Conservatory follows conservatory,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lilies lift their white symbolical cups,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whence their symbolical pollen has been excerpted,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Near them I noticed an harp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the blue satin ribbon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the copy of “Hatha Yoga”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the neat piles of unopened, unopening books,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And she spoke to me of the monarch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of the purity of her soul.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Stele</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>FTER years of continence<br /></span> -<span class="i8">he hurled himself into a sea of six women.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now, quenched as the brand of Meleagar,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">he lies by the poluphloisboious sea-coast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">παραἀ ΘῘνα Πολοϕλοίσβοιο Θαλἀσσης.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><span class="smcap">Siste Viator.</span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>I Vecchii</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HEY will come no more,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old men with beautiful manners.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Il était comme un tout petit garçon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his blouse full of apples<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sticking out all the way round;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blagueur! “Con gli occhi onesti e tardi,”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And he said:<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“Oh! Abelard,” as if the topic<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were much too abstruse for his comprehension,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he talked about “the Great Mary,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said: “Mr. Pound is shocked at my levity,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When it turned out he meant Mrs. Ward.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the other was rather like my bust by Gaudier,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or like a real Texas colonel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said: “Why flay dead horses?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“There was once a man called Voltaire.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And he said they used to cheer Verdi,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Rome, after the opera,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the guards couldn’t stop them,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And that was an anagram for Vittorio<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emanuele Re D’ Italia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the guards couldn’t stop them.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Old men with beautiful manners,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sitting in the Row of a morning;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walking on the Chelsea Embankment.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="im"><i>Ritratto</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>ND she said:<br /></span> -<span class="i8">“You remember Mr. Lowell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“He was your ambassador here?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I said: “That was before I arrived.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she said:<br /></span> -<span class="i8">“He stomped into my bedroom....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(By that time she had got on to Browning.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“ ... stomped into my bedroom....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And said: ‘Do I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“ ‘I ask you, Do I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“ ‘Care too much for society dinners?’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And I wouldn’t say that he didn’t.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Shelley used to live in this house.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She was a very old lady,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never saw her again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="HUGH_SELWYN_MAUBERLEY"></a>HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY</h2> - -<p class="c">(LIFE AND CONTACTS)</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<span class="smcap">Vocat æstus in umbram</span>”<br /></span> - -<span class="i6"><i>Nemesianus Ec. IV.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ODE_POUR_LELECTION_DE_SON_SEPULCHRE"></a>ODE POUR L’ELECTION DE SON SEPULCHRE</h2> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">F</span>OR three years, out of key with his time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He strove to resuscitate the dead art<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of poetry; to maintain “the sublime”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the old sense. Wrong from the start—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, hardly but, seeing he had been born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a half savage country, out of date;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ἵδυεν λάρ τοι πάνθ’, ὃς’ ἐνἰ Τροίη<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caught in the unstopped ear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Giving the rocks small lee-way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chopped seas held him, therefore, that year.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His true Penelope was Flaubert,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He fished by obstinate isles;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Observed the elegance of Circe’s hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Unaffected by “the march of events,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He passed from men’s memory in <i>l’an trentiesme</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>De son eage</i>; the case presents<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No adjunct to the Muses’ diadem.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="II."></a>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HE age demanded an image<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of its accelerated grimace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Something for the modern stage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not, at any rate, an Attic grace;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Not, not certainly, the obscure reveries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the inward gaze;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Better mendacities<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than the classics in paraphrase!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The “age demanded” chiefly a mould in plaster,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made with no loss of time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A prose kinema, not, not assuredly, alabaster<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the “sculpture” of rhyme.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="III."></a>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HE tea-rose tea-gown, etc.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Supplants the mousseline of Cos,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pianola “replaces”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sappho’s barbitos.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Christ follows Dionysus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Phallic and ambrosial<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made way for macerations;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caliban casts out Ariel.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All things are a flowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sage Heracleitus says;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a tawdry cheapness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall outlast our days.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Even the Christian beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Defects—after Samothrace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We see τὀ καλόν<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Decreed in the market place.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Faun’s flesh is not to us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor the saint’s vision.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have the press for wafer;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Franchise for circumcision.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All men, in law, are equals.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free of Peisistratus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We choose a knave or an eunuch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To rule over us.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O bright Apollo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">τίν’ ἀνδρα, τίν’ ήρωά, τίνα θεὀν,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall I place a tin wreath upon!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="IV."></a>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HESE fought in any case,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and some believing, pro domo, in any case ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Some quick to arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some for adventure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some from fear of weakness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some from fear of censure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">some for love of slaughter, in imagination,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">learning later ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">some in fear, learning love of slaughter;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Died some pro patria, non dulce non et decor” ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">walked eye-deep in hell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">believing in old men’s lies, then unbelieving<br /></span> -<span class="i0">came home, home to a lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">home to many deceits,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">home to old lies and new infamy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">usury age-old and age-thick<br /></span> -<span class="i0">and liars in public places.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Daring as never before, wastage as never before.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young blood and high blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">fortitude as never before<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">frankness as never before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">disillusions as never told in the old days,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">hysterias, trench confessions,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">laughter out of dead bellies.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="V."></a>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HERE died a myriad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of the best, among them,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For an old bitch gone in the teeth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a botched civilization,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Charm, smiling at the good mouth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quick eyes gone under earth’s lid,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For two gross of broken statues,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a few thousand battered books.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="YEUX_GLAUQUES"></a>YEUX GLAUQUES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">G</span>LADSTONE was still respected,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When John Ruskin produced<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Kings’ Treasuries”; Swinburne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Rossetti still abused.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fœtid Buchanan lifted up his voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When that faun’s head of hers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Became a pastime for<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Painters and adulterers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Burne-Jones cartons<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have preserved her eyes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still, at the Tate, they teach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cophetua to rhapsodize;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thin like brook-water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a vacant gaze.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The English Rubaiyat was still-born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In those days.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The thin, clear gaze, the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still darts out faun-like from the half-ruin’d face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Questing and passive....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ah, poor Jenny’s case” ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Bewildered that a world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shows no surprise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At her last maquero’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adulteries.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="SIENA_MI_FE_DISFECEMI_MAREMMA"></a>“SIENA MI FE’; DISFEÇEMI<br /> - MAREMMA”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">A</span>MONG the pickled fœtuses and bottled bones,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Engaged in perfecting the catalogue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I found the last scion of the<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Senatorial families of Strasbourg, Monsieur Verog.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For two hours he talked of Gallifet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Dowson; of the Rhymers’ Club;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told me how Johnson (Lionel) died<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By falling from a high stool in a pub ...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But showed no trace of alcohol<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the autopsy, privately performed—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tissue preserved—the pure mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Arose toward Newman as the whiskey warmed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dowson found harlots cheaper than hotels;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Headlam for uplift; Image impartially imbued<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With raptures for Bacchus, Terpsichore and the Church.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So spoke the author of “The Dorian Mood,”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">M. Verog, out of step with the decade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Detached from his contemporaries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neglected by the young,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because of these reveries.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BRENNBAUM"></a>BRENNBAUM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i><span class="letra">T</span>HE</i> sky-like limpid eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The circular infant’s face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stiffness from spats to collar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never relaxing into grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai and the forty years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Showed only when the daylight fell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Level across the face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Brennbaum “The Impeccable.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MR_NIXON"></a>MR NIXON</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">I</span>N the cream gilded cabin of his steam yacht<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to advance with fewer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dangers of delay. “Consider<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Carefully the reviewer.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I was as poor as you are;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“When I began I got, of course,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Advance on royalties, fifty at first,” said Mr. Nixon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Follow me, and take a column,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Even if you have to work free.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Butter reviewers. From fifty to three hundred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I rose in eighteen months;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The hardest nut I had to crack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Was Dr. Dundas.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I never mentioned a man but with the view<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Of selling my own works.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The tip’s a good one, as for literature<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“It gives no man a sinecure.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And no one knows, at sight a masterpiece.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And give up verse, my boy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“There’s nothing in it.”<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Likewise a friend of Bloughram’s once advised me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don’t kick against the pricks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Accept opinion. The “Nineties” tried your game<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And died, there’s nothing in it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="X."></a>X</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">B</span>ENEATH the sagging roof<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stylist has taken shelter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unpaid, uncelebrated,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At last from the world’s welter<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nature receives him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a placid and uneducated mistress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He exercises his talents<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the soil meets his distress.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The haven from sophistications and contentions<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaks through its thatch;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He offers succulent cooking;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The door has a creaking latch.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="XI."></a>XI</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"><span class="letra">C</span>ONSERVATRIX of Milésien”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Habits of mind and feeling,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Possibly. But in Ealing<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the most bank-clerkly of Englishmen?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, “Milésian” is an exaggeration.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No instinct has survived in her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Older than those her grandmother<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Told her would fit her station.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="XII."></a>XII</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">D</span>APHNE with her thighs in bark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stretches toward me her leafy hands,”—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Subjectively. In the stuffed-satin drawing-room<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I await The Lady Valentine’s commands,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Knowing my coat has never been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of precisely the fashion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To stimulate, in her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A durable passion;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Doubtful, somewhat, of the value<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of well-gowned approbation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of literary effort,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But never of The Lady Valentine’s vocation:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Poetry, her border of ideas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The edge, uncertain, but a means of blending<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With other strata<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the lower and higher have ending;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A hook to catch the Lady Jane’s attention,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A modulation toward the theatre,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Also, in the case of revolution,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A possible friend and comforter.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Conduct, on the other hand, the soul<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Which the highest cultures have nourished”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Fleet St. where<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dr. Johnson flourished;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Beside this thoroughfare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sale of half-hose has<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long since superseded the cultivation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Pierian roses.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ENVOI_1919"></a>ENVOI (1919)</h2> - -<div class="poetryb"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">G</span>O, dumb-born book,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hadst thou but song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As thou hast subjects known,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then were there cause in thee that should condone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even my faults that heavy upon me lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And build her glories their longevity.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tell her that sheds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such treasure in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reeking naught else but that her graces give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life to the moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would bid them live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As roses might, in magic amber laid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Red overwrought with orange and all made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One substance and one colour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Braving time.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tell her that goes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With song upon her lips<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sings not out the song, nor knows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The maker of it, some other mouth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May be as fair as hers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When our two dusts with Waller’s shall be laid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Siftings on siftings in oblivion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till change hath broken down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All things save Beauty alone.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2>1920 (MAUBERLEY)</h2> - -<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>URNED from the “eau-forte<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Par Jaquemart”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the strait head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Messalina:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“His true Penelope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was Flaubert,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his tool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The engraver’s.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Firmness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not the full smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His art, but an art<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In profile;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Colourless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pier Francesca,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pisanello lacking the skill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To forge Achaia.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i1">“<i>Qu’est ce qu’ils savent de l’amour, et</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>qu’est ce qu’ils peuvent comprendre</i>?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"><i>S’ils ne comprennent pas la poèsie,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>s’ils ne sentent pas la musique, qu’est ce</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>qu’ils peuvent comprendre de cette passion</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>en comparaison avec laquelle la rose</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>est grossière et le parfum des violettes un</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>tonnerre</i>?” <span style="margin-left:3em;"><small>CAID ALI</small></span><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">F</span>or three years, diabolus in the scale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He drank ambrosia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All passes, ANANGKE prevails,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came end, at last, to that Arcadia.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He had moved amid her phantasmagoria,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid her galaxies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">NUKTIS AGALMA<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Drifted ... drifted precipitate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Asking time to be rid of....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of his bewilderment; to designate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His new found orchid....<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To be certain ... certain ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Amid ærial flowers) ... time for arrangements—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drifted on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the final estrangement;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unable in the supervening blankness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sift TO AGATHON from the chaff<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until he found his seive....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ultimately, his seismograph:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—Given that is his “fundamental passion”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This urge to convey the relation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of eye-lid and cheek-bone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By verbal manifestations;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To present the series<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of curious heads in medallion—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He had passed, inconscient, full gaze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wide-banded irises<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And botticellian sprays implied<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their diastasis;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Which anæsthesis, noted a year late,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weighed, revealed his great affect,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Orchid), mandate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Eros, a retrospect.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . </span><br /> -<span class="i0">Mouths biting empty air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The still stone dogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caught in metamorphosis, were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Left him as epilogues.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_AGE_DEMANDED"></a>“THE AGE DEMANDED”</h2> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap">Vide Poem II. Page 54</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">F</span>OR this agility chance found<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Him of all men, unfit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the red-beaked steeds of<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Cytheræan for a chain bit.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The glow of porcelain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brought no reforming sense<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his perception<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the social inconsequence.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus, if her colour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came against his gaze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tempered as if<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It were through a perfect glaze<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He made no immediate application<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of this to relation of the state<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the individual, the month was more temperate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because this beauty had been.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i8">The coral isle, the lion-coloured sand<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Burst in upon the porcelain revery:<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Impetuous troubling<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Of his imagery.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 2em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Mildness, amid the neo-Neitzschean clatter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His sense of graduations,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quite out of place amid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Resistance to current exacerbations,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Invitation, mere invitation to perceptivity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gradually led him to the isolation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which these presents place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under a more tolerant, perhaps, examination.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By constant elimination<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The manifest universe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yielded an armour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against utter consternation,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A Minoan undulation,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seen, we admit, amid ambrosial circumstances<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strengthened him against<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The discouraging doctrine of chances,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And his desire for survival,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faint in the most strenuous moods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Became an Olympian <i>apathein</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the presence of selected perceptions.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A pale gold, in the aforesaid pattern,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The unexpected palms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Destroying, certainly, the artist’s urge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Left him delighted with the imaginary<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Audition of the phantasmal sea-surge,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Incapable of the least utterance or composition,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Emendation, conservation of the “better tradition”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Refinement of medium, elimination of superfluities,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">August attraction or concentration.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nothing, in brief, but maudlin confession<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Irresponse to human aggression,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid the precipitation, down-float<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of insubstantial manna,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifting the faint susurrus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of his subjective hosannah.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ultimate affronts to human redundancies;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Non-esteem of self-styled “his betters”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading, as he well knew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his final<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exclusion from the world of letters.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">S</span>CATTERED Moluccas<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Not knowing, day to day,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The first day’s end, in the next noon;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The placid water<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Unbroken by the Simoon;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Thick foliage<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Placid beneath warm suns,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tawn fore-shores<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Washed in the cobalt of oblivions;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Or through dawn-mist<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The grey and rose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of the juridical<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flamingoes;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">A consciousness disjunct,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Being but this overblotted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Series<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of intermittences;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Coracle of Pacific voyages,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The unforecasted beach:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Then on an oar<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Read this:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">“I was<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And I no more exist;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Here drifted<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An hedonist.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MEDALLION"></a>MEDALLION</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">L</span>UINI in porcelain!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The grand piano<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Utters a profane<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Protest with her clear soprano.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sleek head emerges<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the gold-yellow frock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As Anadyomene in the opening<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pages of Reinach.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Honey-red, closing the face-oval,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A basket-work of braids which seem as if they were<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spun in King Minos’ hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From metal, or intractable amber;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The face-oval beneath the glaze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bright in its suave bounding-line, as,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath half-watt rays,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The eyes turn topaz.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2>CANTOS</h2> - -<h2><a name="THE_FOURTH_CANTO"></a>THE FOURTH CANTO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">P</span>ALACE in smoky light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Troy but a heap of smouldering boundary-stones,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculeia!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prows!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The silver mirrors catch the bright stones and flare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dawn, to our waking, drifts in the green cool light;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dew-haze blurrs, in the grass, pale ankles moving.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beat, beat, whirr, thud, in the soft turf under the apple trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Choros nympharum, goat-foot with the pale foot alternate;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crescent of blue-shot waters, green-gold in the shallows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A black cock crows in the sea-foam;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And by the curved carved foot of the couch,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">claw-foot and lion head, an old man seated<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speaking in the low drone: ...<br /></span> -<span class="i12">“Ityn!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Et ter flebiliter. Ityn, Ityn!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And she went toward the window and cast her down,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">“All the while, the while, swallows crying:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ityn!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">“ “<i>It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish.</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“ “<i>It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish?</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“ “<i>No other taste shall change this.</i>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And she went toward the window,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">the slim white stone bar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Making a double arch;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Firm even fingers held to the firm pale stone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swung for a moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">and the wind out of Rhodez<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caught in the full of her sleeve.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">... the swallows crying:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ityn! Ityn!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Actaeon....<br /></span> -<span class="i5">And a valley,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The valley is thick with leaves, with leaves, the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sunlight glitters, glitters a-top,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a fish-scale roof,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like the church-roof in Poictiers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it were gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Beneath it, beneath it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a ray, not a slivver, not a spare disk of sunlight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flaking the black, soft water;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bathing the body of nymphs, of nymphs, and Diana,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nymphs, white-gathered about her, and the air, air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaking, air alight with the goddess<br /></span> -<span class="i5">fanning their hair in the dark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifting, lifting and waffing:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ivory dipping in silver,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Shadow’d, o’ershadow’d<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ivory dipping in silver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a splotch, not a lost shatter of sunlight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then Actaeon: Vidal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vidal. It is old Vidal speaking,<br /></span> -<span class="i14">stumbling along in the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not a patch, not a lost shimmer of sunlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">the pale hair of the goddess.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The dogs leap on Actaeon,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">“Hither, hither, Actaeon,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spotted stag of the wood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gold, gold, a sheaf of hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Thick like a wheat swath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blaze, blaze in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The dogs leap on Actaeon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Stumbling, stumbling along in the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muttering, muttering Ovid:<br /></span> -<span class="i3">“Pergusa ... pool ... pool ... Gargaphia,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Pool, pool of Salmacis.”<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The empty armour shakes as the cygnet moves.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus the light rains, thus pours, <i>e lo soleils plovil</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The liquid, and rushing crystal<br /></span> -<span class="i8">whirls up the bright brown sand.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ply over ply, thin glitter of water;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brook film bearing white petals<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(“The pines of Takasago grow with pines of Isé”)<br /></span> -<span class="i3">“Behold the Tree of the Visages.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The forked tips flaming as if with lotus,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Ply over ply<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shallow eddying fluid<br /></span> -<span class="i6">beneath the knees of the gods.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Torches melt in the glare<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Set flame of the corner cook-stall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blue agate casing the sky, a sputter of resin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The saffron sandal petals the narrow foot, Hymenaeus!<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Io Hymen, Io Hymenaee! Aurunculeia!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The scarlet flower is cast on the blanch-white stone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Armaracus, Hill of Urania’s Son.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Meanwhile So-Gioku:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“This wind, sire, is the king’s wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">this wind is wind of the palace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaking imperial water-jets.”<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And Ran-Ti, opening his collar:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“This wind roars in the earth’s bag,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">it lays the water with rushes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“No wind is the king’s wind.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Let every cow keep her calf.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“This wind is held in gauze curtains....”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“No wind is the king’s....”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The camel drivers sit in the turn of the stairs,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">look down to Ecbatan of plotted streets,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Danae! Danae!<br /></span> -<span class="i3">What wind is the king’s?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smoke hangs on the stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The peach-trees shed bright leaves in the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sound drifts in the evening haze,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The barge scrapes at the ford.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gilt rafters above black water;<br /></span> -<span class="i12">three steps in an open field<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gray stone-posts leading nowhither.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Spanish poppies swim in an air of glass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Père Henri Jacques still seeks the sennin on Rokku.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">Polhonac,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As Gyges on Thracian platter, set the feast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cabestan, Terreus.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">It is Cabestan’s heart in the dish.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vidal, tracked out with dogs ... for glamour of Loba;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the gilded tower in Ecbatan<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Lay the god’s bride, lay ever<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waiting the golden rain.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Et saave!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But to-day, Garonne is thick like paint, beyond Dorada,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The worm of the Procession bores in the soup of the crowd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blue thin voices against the crash of the crowd<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Et “Salve regina.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In trellises<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wound over with small flowers, beyond Adige<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the but half-used room, thin film of images,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">(by Stefano)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Age of unbodied gods, the vitreous fragile images<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thin as the locust’s wing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Haunting the mind ... as of Guido ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thin as the locust’s wing. The Centaur’s heel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Plants in the earth-loam.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_FIFTH_CANTO"></a>THE FIFTH CANTO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">G</span>REAT bulk, huge mass, thesaurus;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ecbatan, the clock ticks and fades out;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bride awaiting the god’s touch; Ecbatan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">City of patterned streets; again the vision:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in the viae stradae, toga’d the crowd, and arm’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rushing on populous business, and from parapets<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looked down—I looked, and thought: at North<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was Egypt, and the celestial Nile, blue-deep, cutting low barren land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old men and camels working the water-wheels;<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Measureless seas and stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Iamblichus’ light, the souls ascending,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sparks, like a partridge covey,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">From the “ciocco,” brand struck in the game,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Et omniformis”:<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Air, fire, the pale soft light.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Topaz, I manage, and three sorts of blue;<br /></span> -<span class="i8">but on the barb of time.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fire? always, and the vision always,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ear dull, perhaps, with the vision, flitting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fading at will. Weaving with points of gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gold-yellow, saffron ...<br /></span> -<span class="i6">the Roman shoe, Aurunculeia’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And come shuffling feet, and cries “Da nuces!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nuces” praise and Hymenaeus “brings the girl to her man,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Titter of sound about me, always<br /></span> -<span class="i8">and from Hesperus ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hush of the older song: “Fades light from seacrest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And in Lydia walks with pair’d women<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Peerless among the pairs, and that once in Sardis<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“In satieties ...<br /></span> -<span class="i3">“Fades the light from the sea, and many things<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Are set abroad and brought to mind of thee,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the vinestocks lie untended, new leaves come to the shoots,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">North wind nips on the bough, and seas in heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Toss up chill crests,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And the vine stocks lie untended<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many things are set abroad and brought to mind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of thee, Atthis, unfruitful.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The talks ran long in the night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And from Mauleon, fresh with a new earned grade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In maze of approaching rain-steps, Poicebot—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The air was full of women. And Savairic Mauleon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gave him his land and knight’s fee, and he wed the woman.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came lust of travel on him, of <i>romerya</i>;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of England a knight with slow-lifting eyelids<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Lei fassa furar a del</i>, put glamour upon her ...<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And left her an eight months gone.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Came lust of woman upon him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poicebot, now on North road from Spain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Sea-change, a grey in the water)<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And in small house by town’s edge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Found a woman, changed and familiar face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hard night, and parting at morning.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And Pieire won the singing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Song or land on the throw, Pieire de Maensac,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">and was dreitz hom<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And had De Tierci’s wife and with the war they made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Troy in Auvergnat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">While Menelaus piled up the church at port<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He kept Tyndarida. Dauphin stood with de Maensac.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">John Borgia is bathed at last.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">(Clock-tick pierces the vision)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tiber, dark with the cloak, wet cat, gleaming in patches.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Click of the hooves, through garbage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clutching the greasy stone. “And the cloak floated”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slander is up betimes.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But Varchi of Florence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Steeped in a different year, and pondering Brutus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then<br /></span> -<span class="i4">SIGA MAL AUTHIS DEUTERON!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Dog-eye!!” (to Alessandro)<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Whether for Love of Florence,” Varchi leaves it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saying, “I saw the man, came up with him at Venice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I, one wanting the facts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And no mean labour.<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Or for a privy spite?”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Good Varchi leaves it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But: “I saw the man. <i>Se pia?</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">“<i>O empia?</i> For Lorenzaccio had thought of stroke in the open<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“But uncertain (for the Duke went never unguarded) ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And would have thrown him from wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Yet feared this might not end him, or lest Alessandro<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Know not by whom death came,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">O si credesse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“If when the foot slipped, when death came upon him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Lest cousin Duke Alessandro think he had fallen alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“No friend to aid him in falling.”<br /></span> -<span class="i3"><i>Caina attende.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">As beneath my feet a lake, was ice in seeming.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And all of this, runs Varchi, dreamed out before hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Perugia, caught in the star-maze by Del Carmine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cast on a natal paper, set with an exegesis, told,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All told to Alessandro, told thrice over,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who held his death for a doom.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In abuleia.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But Don Lorenzino<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Whether for love of Florence ... but:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“O si morisse, credesse caduto da se.”<br /></span> -<span class="i6">SIGA, SIGA!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wet cloak floats on the surface,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Schiavoni, caught on the wood-barge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gives out the afterbirth, Giovanni Borgia<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trails out no more at night, where Barabello<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prods the Pope’s elephant, and gets no crown, where Mozarello<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Takes the Calabrian roadway, and for ending<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is smothered beneath a mule,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">a poet’s ending,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down a stale well-hole, oh a poet’s ending. “Sanazarro<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Alone out of all the court was faithful to him”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the gossip of Naples’ trouble drifts to North,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fracastor (lightning was midwife) Cotta, and Ser D’Alviano,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Al poco giorno ed al gran cerchio d’ombra,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talk the talks out with Navighero,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burner of yearly Martials,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">(The slavelet is mourned in vain)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the next comer<br /></span> -<span class="i6">says “were nine wounds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Four men, white horse with a double rider,”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hooves clink and slick on the cobbles ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Schiavoni ... the cloak floats on the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Sink the thing,” splash wakes Schiavoni;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tiber catching the nap, the moonlit velvet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wet cat, gleaming in patches.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Se pia,” Varchi,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“O empia, ma risoluto<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“E terribile deliberazione”<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Both sayings run in the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ma si morisse!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_SIXTH_CANTO"></a>THE SIXTH CANTO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">T</span>HE tale of thy deeds Odysseus!” and Tolosan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ground rents, sold by Guillaume, ninth duke of Aquitaine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Louis is wed with Eleanor; the wheel ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(“Conrad, the wheel turns and in the end turns ill”)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Acre and boy’s love ... for her uncle was<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Commandant at Acre, she was pleased with him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Louis, French King, was jealous of days unshared<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This pair had had together in years gone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he drives on for Zion, as “God wills”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find, in six weeks time, the Queen’s scarf is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twisted a-top the casque of Saladin.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For Sandbrueil’s ransom.” But the pouch-mouths add,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“She went out hunting, and the palm-tufts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Give shade above mottled columns, and she rode back late,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Late, latish, yet perhaps it was not too late.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then France again, and to be rid of her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To brush his antlers: Poictiers, Aquitaine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Adelaide Castilla wears the crown.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eleanor down water-butt, dethroned, debased, unqueen’d.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Unqueen’d five rare long months,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And face sand-red, pitch gait, Harry Plantagenet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sputter in place of speech,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But King, about to be, King Louis! takes a queen.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“E quand lo reis Louis lo entendit<br /></span> -<span class="i10">mout er fasché”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet Gisors, in six years thence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was Marguerite’s. And Harry <i>joven</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In pledge for all his life and life of all his heirs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall have Gisors and Vexis and Neauphal, Neufchastel;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if no issue, Gisors shall revert<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Vexis and Neufchastel and Neauphal to the French crown.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“<i>Si tuit li dol el plor el marrimen</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Del mon</i> were set together they would seem but light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against the death of the young English King,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Harry the Young is dead and all men mourn, a song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mourn all good courtiers, fighters, cantadors.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And still Old Harry keeps grip on Gisors<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Neufchastel and Neauphal and Vexis;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And two years war, and never two years go by<br /></span> -<span class="i4">but come new forays, and “The wheel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Turns, Conrad, turns, and in the end toward ill.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Richard and Alix span the gap, Gisors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Eleanor and Richard face the King,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the fourth family time Plantagenet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faces his dam and whelps, ... and holds Gisors,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now Alix’ dowry, against Philippe-Auguste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Louis’ by Adelaide, wood-lost, then crowned at Etampe)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never two years sans war.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">And Zion still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bleating away to Eastward, the lost lamb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Damned city (was only Frederic knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The true worth of, and patched with Malek Kamel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sane and sensible peace to bait the world<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And set all camps disgruntled with all leaders.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Damn’d atheists!” alike Mahomet growls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Christ grutches more sullen for Sicilian sense<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than does Mahound on Malek.)<br /></span> -<span class="i10">The bright coat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is more to the era, and in Messina’s beach-way<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Des Barres and Richard split the reed-lances<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the coat is torn.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">(Moving in heavy air: Henry and Saladin.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(The serpent coils in the crowd.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The letters run: Tancred to Richard:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">That the French King is<br /></span> -<span class="i3">More against thee, than is his will to me<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Good and in faith; and moves against your safety.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Richard to Tancred:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">That our pact stands firm,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">And, for these slanders, that I think you lie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Proofs, and in writing:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">And if Bourgogne say they were not<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Deliver’d by hand and his,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Let him move sword against me and my word.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Richard to Philip: silence, with a tone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Richard to Flanders: the subjoined and precedent.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Philip a silence; and then, “Lies and turned lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For that he will fail Alix<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Affianced, and Sister to Ourself.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Richard: “My father’s bed-piece! A Plantagenet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Mewls on the covers, with a nose like his, already.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">In the Name<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of Father and of Son Triune and Indivisible<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Philip of France by Goddes Grace<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To all men presents that our noble brother<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Richard of England engaged by mutual oath<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(a sacred covenant applicable to both)<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Need <i>not</i> wed Alix but whomso he choose<br /></span> -<span class="i2">We cede him Gisors Neauphal and Vexis<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And to the heirs male of his house<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Cahors and Querci Richard’s the abbeys ours<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of Figeac and Souillac St. Gilles left still in peace<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Alix returns to France.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Made in Messina in<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The year 1190 of the Incarnation of the Word.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Reed lances broken, a cloak torn by Des Barres<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do turn King Richard from the holy wars.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And “God aid Conrad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For man’s aid comes slow,” Aye tarries upon the road,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">En Bertrans cantat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">And before all this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Correze, Malemort<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A young man walks, at church with galleried porch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By river-marsh, pacing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was come from Ventadorn; and Eleanor turning on thirty years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Domna jauzionda, and he says to her<br /></span> -<span class="i6">“My lady of Ventadorn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Is shut by Eblis in, and will not hawk nor hunt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor get her free in the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">nor watch fish rise to bait<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Nor the glare-wing’d flies alight in the creek’s edge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Save in my absence, Madame.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">‘<i>Que la lauzeta mover</i>,’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Send word, I ask you, to Eblis,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">you have seen that maker<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And finder of songs, so far afield as this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“That he may free her,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">who sheds such light in the air.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_SEVENTH_CANTO"></a>THE SEVENTH CANTO</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="letra">E</span>LEANOR (she spoiled in a British climate)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ελανδρος and Ελέπτολις, and poor old Homer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">blind, blind as a bat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ear, ear for the sea-surge—; rattle of old men’s voices;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then the phantom Rome, marble narrow for seats<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Si pulvis nullus....”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In chatter above the circus, “Nullum excute tamen.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then: file and candles, e li mestiers ecoutes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scene—for the battle only,—but still scene,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pennons and standards y cavals armatz,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not mere succession of strokes, sightless narration,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Dante’s “ciocco,” the brand struck in the game.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Un peu moisi, plancher plus bas que le jardin.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Contre le lambris, fauteuil de paille,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Un vieux piano, et sous le baromètre ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old men’s voices—beneath the columns of false marble,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the walls tinted discreet, the modish, darkish green-blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Discreeter gilding, and the panelled wood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not present, but suggested, for the leasehold is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Touched with an imprecision ... about three squares;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The house a shade too solid, and the art<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shade off action, paintings a shade too thick.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the great domed head, <i>con gli occhi onesti e tardi</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Moves before me, phantom with weighted motion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Grave incessu</i>, drinking the tone of things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the old voice lifts itself<br /></span> -<span class="i4">weaving an endless sentence.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We also made ghostly visits, and the stair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That knew us, found us again on the turn of it,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knocking at empty rooms, seeking a buried beauty;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sun-tanned gracious and well-formed fingers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift no latch of bent bronze, no Empire handle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Twists for the knocker’s fall; no voice to answer.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A strange concierge, in place of the gouty-footed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sceptic against all this one seeks the living,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stubborn against the fact. The wilted flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brushed out a seven year since, of no effect.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Damn the partition! Paper, dark brown and stretched,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flimsy and damned partition.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Ione, dead the long year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My lintel, and Liu Ch’e’s lintel.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time blacked out with the rubber.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The Elysée carries a name on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bus behind me gives me a date for peg;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Low ceiling and the Erard and silver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These are in “time.” Four chairs, the bow-front dresser,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pannier of the desk, cloth top sunk in.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Beer-bottle on the statue’s pediment!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“That, Fritz, is the era, to-day against the past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Contemporary.” And the passion endures.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against their action, aromas; rooms, against chronicles.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smaragdos, chrysolitos, De Gama wore striped pants in Africa<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And “Mountains of the sea gave birth to troops,”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Le vieux commode en acajou:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">beer bottles of various strata.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But is she as dead as Tyro? In seven years?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Έλέναυς, έλανδρος, έλέπτολις,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sea runs in the beach-groove, shaking the floated pebbles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Eleanor!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The scarlet curtain throws a less scarlet shadow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lamplight at Buovilla, e quel remir,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And all that day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nicea moved before me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the cold gray air troubled her not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For all her naked beauty, bit not the tropic skin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the long slender feet lit on the curb’s marge<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her moving height went before me,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">We alone having being.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And all that day, another day:<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Thin husks I had known as men,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dry casques of departed locusts<br /></span> -<span class="i4">speaking a shell of speech ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Propped between chairs and table ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Words like the locust-shells, moved by no inner being,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">A dryness calling for death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another day, between walls of a sham Mycenian,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Toc” sphinxes, sham-Memphis columns,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And beneath the jazz a cortex, a stiffness or stillness;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The older shell, varnished to lemon colour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brown-yellow wood, and the no colour plaster,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dry professorial talk ...<br /></span> -<span class="i4">now stilling the ill beat music,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">House expulsed by this house, but not extinguished.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Square even shoulders and the satin skin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gone cheeks of the dancing woman,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Still the old dead dry talk, gassed out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is ten years gone, makes stiff about her a glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A petrification of air.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The old room of the tawdry class asserts itself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young men, never!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Only the husk of talk.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O voi che siete in piccioletta barca,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dido choked up with sobs for her Sicheus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lies heavy in my arms, dead weight<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Drowning with tears, new Eros,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the life goes on, mooning upon bare hills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flame leaps from the hand, the rain is listless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet drinks the thirst from our lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">solid as echo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Passion to breed a form in shimmer of rain-blurr;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Eros drowned, drowned, heavy-half dead with tears<br /></span> -<span class="i4">For dead Sicheus.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life to make mock of motion:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the husks, before me, move,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The words rattle: shells given out by shells.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The live man, out of lands and prisons,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">shakes the dry pods,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Probes for old wills and friendships, and the big locust-casques<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bend to the tawdry table,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift up their spoons to mouths, put forks in cutlets,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And make sound like the sound of voices.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Lorenzaccio<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Being more live than they, more full of flames and voices.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ma si morisse!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Credesse caduto da se, ma si morisse.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the tall indifference moves,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">a more living shell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drift in the air of fate, dry phantom, but intact,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O Alessandro, chief and thrice warned, watcher,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Eternal watcher of things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of things, of men, of passions.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Eyes floating in dry, dark air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E biondo, with glass-gray iris, with an even side-fall of hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stiff, still features.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; 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