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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78743-0.txt b/78743-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..23d470e --- /dev/null +++ b/78743-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3432 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78743 *** + + + + +Harmonium + + + + + Harmonium + + _by_ Wallace Stevens + + [Illustration] + + New York Alfred · A · Knopf Mcmxxiii + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. + + _Published, September, 1923_ + + + + + _To_ + _MY WIFE_ + + + + +The poems in this book, with the exception of _The Comedian as the +Letter C_ and a few others, have been published before in _Others_, +_Secession_, _Rogue_, _The Soil_, _The Modern School_, _Broom_, +_Contact_, _The New Republic_, _The Measure_, _The Little Review_, _The +Dial_, and particularly in _Poetry: A Magazine of Verse_, of Chicago, +edited by Harriet Monroe. + + + + +Contents + + + Earthy Anecdote 15 + + Invective against Swans 16 + + In the Carolinas 17 + + The Paltry Nude Starts on a Spring Voyage 18 + + The Plot against the Giant 20 + + Infanta Marina 21 + + Domination of Black 22 + + The Snow Man 24 + + The Ordinary Women 25 + + The Load of Sugar-Cane 27 + + Le Monocle de Mon Oncle 28 + + Nuances of a Theme by Williams 34 + + Metaphors of a Magnifico 35 + + Ploughing on Sunday 36 + + Cy Est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et Les Unze + Mille Vierges 37 + + Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores 39 + + Fabliau of Florida 40 + + The Doctor of Geneva 41 + + Another Weeping Woman 42 + + Homunculus et la Belle Etoile 43 + + The Comedian as the Letter C 46 + + The World without Imagination 47 + + Concerning the Thunderstorms of Yucatan 50 + + Approaching Carolina 54 + + The Idea of a Colony 58 + + A Nice Shady Home 62 + + And Daughters with Curls 66 + + From the Misery of Don Joost 70 + + O, Florida, Venereal Soil 71 + + Last Looks at the Lilacs 73 + + The Worms at Heaven’s Gate 74 + + The Jack-Rabbit 75 + + Valley Candle 76 + + Anecdote of Men by the Thousand 77 + + The Silver Plough-Boy 78 + + The Apostrophe to Vincentine 79 + + Floral Decorations for Bananas 81 + + Anecdote of Canna 83 + + Of the Manner of Addressing Clouds 84 + + Of Heaven Considered as a Tomb 85 + + Of the Surface of Things 86 + + Anecdote of the Prince of Peacocks 87 + + A High-Toned Old Christian Woman 89 + + The Place of the Solitaires 90 + + The Weeping Burgher 91 + + The Curtains in the House of the Metaphysician 92 + + Banal Sojourn 93 + + Depression before Spring 94 + + The Emperor of Ice-Cream 95 + + The Cuban Doctor 96 + + Tea at the Palaz of Hoon 97 + + Exposition of the Contents of a Cab 98 + + Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock 99 + + Sunday Morning 100 + + The Virgin Carrying a Lantern 105 + + Stars at Tallapoosa 106 + + Explanation 107 + + Six Significant Landscapes 108 + + Bantams in Pine-Woods 111 + + Anecdote of the Jar 112 + + Palace of the Babies 113 + + Frogs Eat Butterflies. Snakes Eat Frogs. Hogs + Eat Snakes. Men Eat Hogs 114 + + Jasmine’s Beautiful Thoughts underneath the Willow 115 + + Cortège for Rosenbloom 116 + + Tattoo 118 + + The Bird with the Coppery, Keen Claws 119 + + Life Is Motion 120 + + Architecture 121 + + The Wind Shifts 124 + + Colloquy with a Polish Aunt 125 + + Gubbinal 126 + + Two Figures in Dense Violet Night 127 + + Theory 128 + + To the One of Fictive Music 129 + + Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion 131 + + Peter Quince at the Clavier 132 + + Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird 135 + + Nomad Exquisite 138 + + Tea 139 + + To the Roaring Wind 140 + + + + +Harmonium + + + + +Earthy Anecdote + + + Every time the bucks went clattering + Over Oklahoma + A firecat bristled in the way. + + Wherever they went, + They went clattering, + Until they swerved + In a swift, circular line + To the right, + Because of the firecat. + + Or until they swerved + In a swift, circular line + To the left, + Because of the firecat. + + The bucks clattered. + The firecat went leaping, + To the right, to the left, + And + Bristled in the way. + + Later, the firecat closed his bright eyes + And slept. + + + + +Invective against Swans + + + The soul, O ganders, flies beyond the parks + And far beyond the discords of the wind. + + A bronze rain from the sun descending marks + The death of summer, which that time endures + + Like one who scrawls a listless testament + Of golden quirks and Paphian caricatures, + + Bequeathing your white feathers to the moon + And giving your bland motions to the air. + + Behold, already on the long parades + The crows anoint the statues with their dirt. + + And the soul, O ganders, being lonely, flies + Beyond your chilly chariots, to the skies. + + + + +In the Carolinas + + + The lilacs wither in the Carolinas. + Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins. + Already the new-born children interpret love + In the voices of mothers. + + Timeless mother, + How is it that your aspic nipples + For once vent honey? + + _The pine-tree sweetens my body. + The white iris beautifies me._ + + + + +The Paltry Nude Starts on a Spring Voyage + + + But not on a shell, she starts, + Archaic, for the sea. + But on the first-found weed + She scuds the glitters, + Noiselessly, like one more wave. + + She too is discontent + And would have purple stuff upon her arms, + Tired of the salty harbors, + Eager for the brine and bellowing + Of the high interiors of the sea. + + The wind speeds her, + Blowing upon her hands + And watery back. + She touches the clouds, where she goes + In the circle of her traverse of the sea. + + Yet this is meagre play + In the scurry and water-shine, + As her heels foam-- + Not as when the goldener nude + Of a later day + + Will go, like the centre of sea-green pomp, + In an intenser calm, + Scullion of fate, + Across the spick torrent, ceaselessly, + Upon her irretrievable way. + + + + +The Plot against the Giant + + +_First Girl_ + + When this yokel comes maundering, + Whetting his hacker, + I shall run before him, + Diffusing the civilest odors + Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers. + It will check him. + + +_Second Girl_ + + I shall run before him, + Arching cloths besprinkled with colors + As small as fish-eggs. + The threads + Will abash him. + + +_Third Girl_ + + Oh, la ... le pauvre! + I shall run before him, + With a curious puffing. + He will bend his ear then. + I shall whisper + Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals. + It will undo him. + + + + +Infanta Marina + + + Her terrace was the sand + And the palms and the twilight. + + She made of the motions of her wrist + The grandiose gestures + Of her thought. + + The rumpling of the plumes + Of this creature of the evening + Came to be sleights of sails + Over the sea. + + And thus she roamed + In the roamings of her fan, + + Partaking of the sea, + And of the evening, + As they flowed around + And uttered their subsiding sound. + + + + +Domination of Black + + + At night, by the fire, + The colors of the bushes + And of the fallen leaves, + Repeating themselves, + Turned in the room, + Like the leaves themselves + Turning in the wind. + Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks + Came striding. + And I remembered the cry of the peacocks. + + The colors of their tails + Were like the leaves themselves + Turning in the wind, + In the twilight wind. + They swept over the room, + Just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks + Down to the ground. + I heard them cry--the peacocks. + Was it a cry against the twilight + Or against the leaves themselves + Turning in the wind, + Turning as the flames + Turned in the fire, + Turning as the tails of the peacocks + Turned in the loud fire, + Loud as the hemlocks + Full of the cry of the peacocks? + Or was it a cry against the hemlocks? + + Out of the window, + I saw how the planets gathered + Like the leaves themselves + Turning in the wind. + I saw how the night came, + Came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks. + I felt afraid. + And I remembered the cry of the peacocks. + + + + +The Snow Man + + + One must have a mind of winter + To regard the frost and the boughs + Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; + + And have been cold a long time + To behold the junipers shagged with ice, + The spruces rough in the distant glitter + + Of the January sun; and not to think + Of any misery in the sound of the wind, + In the sound of a few leaves, + + Which is the sound of the land + Full of the same wind + That is blowing in the same bare place + + For the listener, who listens in the snow, + And, nothing himself, beholds + Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is. + + + + +The Ordinary Women + + + Then from their poverty they rose, + From dry catarrhs, and to guitars + They flitted + Through the palace walls. + + They flung monotony behind, + Turned from their want, and, nonchalant, + They crowded + The nocturnal halls. + + The lacquered loges huddled there + Mumbled zay-zay and a-zay, a-zay. + The moonlight + Fubbed the girandoles. + + And the cold dresses that they wore, + In the vapid haze of the window-bays, + Were tranquil + As they leaned and looked + + From the window-sills at the alphabets, + At beta b and gamma g, + To study + The canting curlicues + + Of heaven and of the heavenly script. + And there they read of marriage-bed. + Ti-lill-o! + And they read right long. + + The gaunt guitarists on the strings + Rumbled a-day and a-day, a-day. + The moonlight + Rose on the beachy floors. + + How explicit the coiffures became, + The diamond point, the sapphire point, + The sequins + Of the civil fans! + + Insinuations of desire, + Puissant speech, alike in each, + Cried quittance + To the wickless halls. + + Then from their poverty they rose, + From dry guitars, and to catarrhs + They flitted + Through the palace walls. + + + + +The Load of Sugar-Cane + + + The going of the glade-boat + Is like water flowing; + + Like water flowing + Through the green saw-grass, + Under the rainbows; + + Under the rainbows + That are like birds, + Turning, bedizened, + + While the wind still whistles + As kildeer do, + + When they rise + At the red turban + Of the boatman. + + + + +Le Monocle de Mon Oncle + + +I + + “Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds, + O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon, + There is not nothing, no, no, never nothing, + Like the clashed edges of two words that kill.” + And so I mocked her in magnificent measure. + Or was it that I mocked myself alone? + I wish that I might be a thinking stone. + The sea of spuming thought foists up again + The radiant bubble that she was. And then + A deep up-pouring from some saltier well + Within me, bursts its watery syllable. + + +II + + A red bird flies across the golden floor. + It is a red bird that seeks out his choir + Among the choirs of wind and wet and wing. + A torrent will fall from him when he finds. + Shall I uncrumple this much-crumpled thing? + I am a man of fortune greeting heirs; + For it has come that thus I greet the spring. + These choirs of welcome choir for me farewell. + No spring can follow past meridian. + Yet you persist with anecdotal bliss + To make believe a starry _connaissance_. + + +III + + Is it for nothing, then, that old Chinese + Sat tittivating by their mountain pools + Or in the Yangste studied out their beards? + I shall not play the flat historic scale. + You know how Utamaro’s beauties sought + The end of love in their all-speaking braids. + You know the mountainous coiffures of Bath. + Alas! Have all the barbers lived in vain + That not one curl in nature has survived? + Why, without pity on these studious ghosts, + Do you come dripping in your hair from sleep? + + +IV + + This luscious and impeccable fruit of life + Falls, it appears, of its own weight to earth. + When you were Eve, its acrid juice was sweet, + Untasted, in its heavenly, orchard air. + An apple serves as well as any skull + To be the book in which to read a round, + And is as excellent, in that it is composed + Of what, like skulls, comes rotting back to ground. + But it excels in this, that as the fruit + Of love, it is a book too mad to read + Before one merely reads to pass the time. + + +V + + In the high west there burns a furious star. + It is for fiery boys that star was set + And for sweet-smelling virgins close to them. + The measure of the intensity of love + Is measure, also, of the verve of earth. + For me, the firefly’s quick, electric stroke + Ticks tediously the time of one more year. + And you? Remember how the crickets came + Out of their mother grass, like little kin, + In the pale nights, when your first imagery + Found inklings of your bond to all that dust. + + +VI + + If men at forty will be painting lakes + The ephemeral blues must merge for them in one, + The basic slate, the universal hue. + There is a substance in us that prevails. + But in our amours amorists discern + Such fluctuations that their scrivening + Is breathless to attend each quirky turn. + When amorists grow bald, then amours shrink + Into the compass and curriculum + Of introspective exiles, lecturing. + It is a theme for Hyacinth alone. + + +VII + + The mules that angels ride come slowly down + The blazing passes, from beyond the sun. + Descensions of their tinkling bells arrive. + These muleteers are dainty of their way. + Meantime, centurions guffaw and beat + Their shrilling tankards on the table-boards. + This parable, in sense, amounts to this: + The honey of heaven may or may not come, + But that of earth both comes and goes at once. + Suppose these couriers brought amid their train + A damsel heightened by eternal bloom. + + +VIII + + Like a dull scholar, I behold, in love, + An ancient aspect touching a new mind. + It comes, it blooms, it bears its fruit and dies. + This trivial trope reveals a way of truth. + Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof. + Two golden gourds distended on our vines, + We hang like warty squashes, streaked and rayed, + Into the autumn weather, splashed with frost, + Distorted by hale fatness, turned grotesque. + The laughing sky will see the two of us + Washed into rinds by rotting winter rains. + + +IX + + In verses wild with motion, full of din, + Loudened by cries, by clashes, quick and sure + As the deadly thought of men accomplishing + Their curious fates in war, come, celebrate + The faith of forty, ward of Cupido. + Most venerable heart, the lustiest conceit + Is not too lusty for your broadening. + I quiz all sounds, all thoughts, all everything + For the music and manner of the paladins + To make oblation fit. Where shall I find + Bravura adequate to this great hymn? + + +X + + The fops of fancy in their poems leave + Memorabilia of the mystic spouts, + Spontaneously watering their gritty soils. + I am a yeoman, as such fellows go. + I know no magic trees, no balmy boughs, + No silver-ruddy, gold-vermilion fruits. + But, after all, I know a tree that bears + A semblance to the thing I have in mind. + It stands gigantic, with a certain tip + To which all birds come sometime in their time. + But when they go that tip still tips the tree. + + +XI + + If sex were all, then every trembling hand + Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words. + But note the unconscionable treachery of fate, + That makes us weep, laugh, grunt and groan, and shout + Doleful heroics, pinching gestures forth + From madness or delight, without regard + To that first, foremost law. Anguishing hour! + Last night, we sat beside a pool of pink, + Clippered with lilies scudding the bright chromes, + Keen to the point of starlight, while a frog + Boomed from his very belly odious chords. + + +XII + + A blue pigeon it is, that circles the blue sky, + On side-long wing, around and round and round. + A white pigeon it is, that flutters to the ground, + Grown tired of flight. Like a dark rabbi, I + Observed, when young, the nature of mankind, + In lordly study. Every day, I found + Man proved a gobbet in my mincing world. + Like a rose rabbi, later, I pursued, + And still pursue, the origin and course + Of love, but until now I never knew + That fluttering things have so distinct a shade. + + + + +Nuances of a Theme by Williams + + _It’s a strange courage + you give me, ancient star:_ + + _Shine alone in the sunrise + toward which you lend no part!_ + + +I + + Shine alone, shine nakedly, shine like bronze, + that reflects neither my face nor any inner part + of my being, shine like fire, that mirrors nothing. + + +II + + Lend no part to any humanity that suffuses you in its own light. + Be not chimera of morning, + Half-man, half-star. + Be not an intelligence, + Like a widow’s bird + Or an old horse. + + + + +Metaphors of a Magnifico + + + Twenty men crossing a bridge, + Into a village, + Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges, + Into twenty villages, + Or one man + Crossing a single bridge into a village. + + This is old song + That will not declare itself ... + + Twenty men crossing a bridge, + Into a village, + Are + Twenty men crossing a bridge + Into a village. + + That will not declare itself + Yet is certain as meaning ... + + The boots of the men clump + On the boards of the bridge. + The first white wall of the village + Rises through fruit-trees. + Of what was it I was thinking? + + So the meaning escapes. + + The first white wall of the village ... + The fruit-trees.... + + + + +Ploughing on Sunday + + + The white cock’s tail + Tosses in the wind. + The turkey-cock’s tail + Glitters in the sun. + + Water in the fields. + The wind pours down. + The feathers flare + And bluster in the wind. + + Remus, blow your horn! + I’m ploughing on Sunday, + Ploughing North America. + Blow your horn! + + Tum-ti-tum, + Ti-tum-tum-tum! + The turkey-cock’s tail + Spreads to the sun. + + The white cock’s tail + Streams to the moon. + Water in the fields. + The wind pours down. + + + + +Cy Est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et Les Unze Mille Vierges + + + Ursula, in a garden, found + A bed of radishes. + She kneeled upon the ground + And gathered them, + With flowers around, + Blue, gold, pink, and green. + + She dressed in red and gold brocade + And in the grass an offering made + Of radishes and flowers. + + She said, “My dear, + Upon your altars, + I have placed + The marguerite and coquelicot, + And roses + Frail as April snow; + But here,” she said, + “Where none can see, + I make an offering, in the grass, + Of radishes and flowers.” + And then she wept + For fear the Lord would not accept. + + The good Lord in His garden sought + New leaf and shadowy tinct, + And they were all His thought. + He heard her low accord, + Half prayer and half ditty, + And He felt a subtle quiver, + That was not heavenly love, + Or pity. + + This is not writ + In any book. + + + + +Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores + + + I say now, Fernando, that on that day + The mind roamed as a moth roams, + Among the blooms beyond the open sand; + + And that whatever noise the motion of the waves + Made on the sea-weeds and the covered stones + Disturbed not even the most idle ear. + + Then it was that that monstered moth + Which had lain folded against the blue + And the colored purple of the lazy sea, + + And which had drowsed along the bony shores, + Shut to the blather that the water made, + Rose up besprent and sought the flaming red + + Dabbled with yellow pollen--red as red + As the flag above the old café-- + And roamed there all the stupid afternoon. + + + + +Fabliau of Florida + + + Barque of phosphor + On the palmy beach, + + Move outward into heaven, + Into the alabasters + And night blues. + + Foam and cloud are one. + Sultry moon-monsters + Are dissolving. + + Fill your black hull + With white moonlight. + + There will never be an end + To this droning of the surf. + + + + +The Doctor of Geneva + + + The doctor of Geneva stamped the sand + That lay impounding the Pacific swell, + Patted his stove-pipe hat and tugged his shawl. + + Lacustrine man had never been assailed + By such long-rolling opulent cataracts, + Unless Racine or Bossuet held the like. + + He did not quail. A man so used to plumb + The multifarious heavens felt no awe + Before these visible, voluble delugings, + + Which yet found means to set his simmering mind + Spinning and hissing with oracular + Notations of the wild, the ruinous waste, + + Until the steeples of his city clanked and sprang + In an unburgherly apocalypse. + The doctor used his handkerchief and sighed. + + + + +Another Weeping Woman + + + Pour the unhappiness out + From your too bitter heart, + Which grieving will not sweeten. + + Poison grows in this dark. + It is in the water of tears + Its black blooms rise. + + The magnificent cause of being, + The imagination, the one reality + In this imagined world + + Leaves you + With him for whom no phantasy moves, + And you are pierced by a death. + + + + +Homunculus et la Belle Etoile + + + In the sea, Biscayne, there prinks + The young emerald, evening star, + Good light for drunkards, poets, widows, + And ladies soon to be married. + + By this light the salty fishes + Arch in the sea like tree-branches, + Going in many directions + Up and down. + + This light conducts + The thoughts of drunkards, the feelings + Of widows and trembling ladies, + The movements of fishes. + + How pleasant an existence it is + That this emerald charms philosophers, + Until they become thoughtlessly willing + To bathe their hearts in later moonlight, + + Knowing that they can bring back thought + In the night that is still to be silent, + Reflecting this thing and that, + Before they sleep! + + It is better that, as scholars, + They should think hard in the dark cuffs + Of voluminous cloaks, + And shave their heads and bodies. + + It might well be that their mistress + Is no gaunt fugitive phantom. + She might, after all, be a wanton, + Abundantly beautiful, eager, + + Fecund, + From whose being by starlight, on sea-coast, + The innermost good of their seeking + Might come in the simplest of speech. + + It is a good light, then, for those + That know the ultimate Plato, + Tranquillizing with this jewel + The torments of confusion. + + + + +The Comedian as the Letter C + + +I + +The World without Imagination + + Nota: man is the intelligence of his soil, + The sovereign ghost. As such, the Socrates + Of snails, musician of pears, principium + And lex. Sed quaeritur: is this same wig + Of things, this nincompated pedagogue, + Preceptor to the sea? Crispin at sea + Created, in his day, a touch of doubt. + An eye most apt in gelatines and jupes, + Berries of villages, a barber’s eye, + An eye of land, of simple salad-beds, + Of honest quilts, the eye of Crispin, hung + On porpoises, instead of apricots, + And on silentious porpoises, whose snouts + Dibbled in waves that were mustachios, + Inscrutable hair in an inscrutable world. + + One eats one paté, even of salt, quotha. + It was not so much the lost terrestrial, + The snug hibernal from that sea and salt, + That century of wind in a single puff. + What counted was mythology of self, + Blotched out beyond unblotching. Crispin, + The lutanist of fleas, the knave, the thane, + The ribboned stick, the bellowing breeches, cloak + Of China, cap of Spain, imperative haw + Of hum, inquisitorial botanist, + And general lexicographer of mute + And maidenly greenhorns, now beheld himself, + A skinny sailor peering in the sea-glass. + What word split up in clickering syllables + And storming under multitudinous tones + Was name for this short-shanks in all that brunt? + Crispin was washed away by magnitude. + The whole of life that still remained in him + Dwindled to one sound strumming in his ear, + Ubiquitous concussion, slap and sigh, + Polyphony beyond his baton’s thrust. + + Could Crispin stem verboseness in the sea, + The old age of a watery realist, + Triton, dissolved in shifting diaphanes + Of blue and green? A wordy, watery age + That whispered to the sun’s compassion, made + A convocation, nightly, of the sea-stars, + And on the clopping foot-ways of the moon + Lay grovelling. Triton incomplicate with that + Which made him Triton, nothing left of him, + Except in faint, memorial gesturings, + That were like arms and shoulders in the waves, + Here, something in the rise and fall of wind + That seemed hallucinating horn, and here, + A sunken voice, both of remembering + And of forgetfulness, in alternate strain. + Just so an ancient Crispin was dissolved. + The valet in the tempest was annulled. + Bordeaux to Yucatan, Havana next, + And then to Carolina. Simple jaunt. + Crispin, merest minuscule in the gales, + Dejected his manner to the turbulence. + The salt hung on his spirit like a frost, + The dead brine melted in him like a dew + Of winter, until nothing of himself + Remained, except some starker, barer self + In a starker, barer world, in which the sun + Was not the sun because it never shone + With bland complaisance on pale parasols, + Beetled, in chapels, on the chaste bouquets. + Against his pipping sounds a trumpet cried + Celestial sneering boisterously. Crispin + Became an introspective voyager. + + Here was the veritable ding an sich, at last, + Crispin confronting it, a vocable thing, + But with a speech belched out of hoary darks + Noway resembling his, a visible thing, + And excepting negligible Triton, free + From the unavoidable shadow of himself + That lay elsewhere around him. Severance + Was clear. The last distortion of romance + Forsook the insatiable egotist. The sea + Severs not only lands but also selves. + Here was no help before reality. + Crispin beheld and Crispin was made new. + The imagination, here, could not evade, + In poems of plums, the strict austerity + Of one vast, subjugating, final tone. + The drenching of stale lives no more fell down. + What was this gaudy, gusty panoply? + Out of what swift destruction did it spring? + It was caparison of wind and cloud + And something given to make whole among + The ruses that were shattered by the large. + + +II + +Concerning the Thunderstorms of Yucatan + + In Yucatan, the Maya sonneteers + Of the Caribbean amphitheatre, + In spite of hawk and falcon, green toucan + And jay, still to the night-bird made their plea, + As if raspberry tanagers in palms, + High up in orange air, were barbarous. + But Crispin was too destitute to find + In any commonplace the sought-for aid. + He was a man made vivid by the sea, + A man come out of luminous traversing, + Much trumpeted, made desperately clear, + Fresh from discoveries of tidal skies, + To whom oracular rockings gave no rest. + Into a savage color he went on. + + How greatly had he grown in his demesne, + This auditor of insects! He that saw + The stride of vanishing autumn in a park + By way of decorous melancholy; he + That wrote his couplet yearly to the spring, + As dissertation of profound delight, + Stopping, on voyage, in a land of snakes, + Found his vicissitudes had much enlarged + His apprehension, made him intricate + In moody rucks, and difficult and strange + In all desires, his destitution’s mark. + He was in this as other freemen are, + Sonorous nutshells rattling inwardly. + His violence was for aggrandizement + And not for stupor, such as music makes + For sleepers halfway waking. He perceived + That coolness for his heat came suddenly, + And only, in the fables that he scrawled + With his own quill, in its indigenous dew, + Of an aesthetic tough, diverse, untamed, + Incredible to prudes, the mint of dirt, + Green barbarism turning paradigm. + Crispin foresaw a curious promenade + Or, nobler, sensed an elemental fate, + And elemental potencies and pangs, + And beautiful barenesses as yet unseen, + Making the most of savagery of palms, + Of moonlight on the thick, cadaverous bloom + That yuccas breed, and of the panther’s tread. + The fabulous and its intrinsic verse + Came like two spirits parleying, adorned + In radiance from the Atlantic coign, + For Crispin and his quill to catechize. + But they came parleying of such an earth, + So thick with sides and jagged lops of green, + So intertwined with serpent-kin encoiled + Among the purple tufts, the scarlet crowns, + Scenting the jungle in their refuges, + So streaked with yellow, blue and green and red + In beak and bud and fruity gobbet-skins, + That earth was like a jostling festival + Of seeds grown fat, too juicily opulent, + Expanding in the gold’s maternal warmth. + + So much for that. The affectionate emigrant found + A new reality in parrot-squawks. + Yet let that trifle pass. Now, as this odd + Discoverer walked through the harbor streets + Inspecting the cabildo, the façade + Of the cathedral, making notes, he heard + A rumbling, west of Mexico, it seemed, + Approaching like a gasconade of drums. + The white cabildo darkened, the façade, + As sullen as the sky, was swallowed up + In swift, successive shadows, dolefully. + The rumbling broadened as it fell. The wind, + Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, + Came bluntly thundering, more terrible + Than the revenge of music on bassoons. + Gesticulating lightning, mystical, + Made pallid flitter. Crispin, here, took flight. + An annotator has his scruples, too. + He knelt in the cathedral with the rest, + This connoisseur of elemental fate, + Aware of exquisite thought. The storm was one + Of many proclamations of the kind, + Proclaiming something harsher than he learned + From hearing signboards whimper in cold nights + Or seeing the midsummer artifice + Of heat upon his pane. This was the span + Of force, the quintessential fact, the note + Of Vulcan, that a valet seeks to own, + The thing that makes him envious in phrase. + + And while the torrent on the roof still droned + He felt the Andean breath. His mind was free + And more than free, elate, intent, profound + And studious of a self possessing him, + That was not in him in the crusty town + From which he sailed. Beyond him, westward, lay + The mountainous ridges, purple balustrades, + In which the thunder, lapsing in its clap, + Let down gigantic quavers of its voice, + For Crispin to vociferate again. + + +III + +Approaching Carolina + + The book of moonlight is not written yet + Nor half begun, but, when it is, leave room + For Crispin, fagot in the lunar fire, + Who, in the hubbub of his pilgrimage + Through sweating changes, never could forget + That wakefulness or meditating sleep, + In which the sulky strophes willingly + Bore up, in time, the somnolent, deep songs. + Leave room, therefore, in that unwritten book + For the legendary moonlight that once burned + In Crispin’s mind above a continent. + America was always north to him, + A northern west or western north, but north, + And thereby polar, polar-purple, chilled + And lank, rising and slumping from a sea + Of hardy foam, receding flatly, spread + In endless ledges, glittering, submerged + And cold in a boreal mistiness of the moon. + The spring came there in clinking pannicles + Of half-dissolving frost, the summer came, + If ever, whisked and wet, not ripening, + Before the winter’s vacancy returned. + The myrtle, if the myrtle ever bloomed, + Was like a glacial pink upon the air. + The green palmettoes in crepuscular ice + Clipped frigidly blue-black meridians, + Morose chiaroscuro, gauntly drawn. + + How many poems he denied himself + In his observant progress, lesser things + Than the relentless contact he desired; + How many sea-masks he ignored; what sounds + He shut out from his tempering ear; what thoughts, + Like jades affecting the sequestered bride; + And what descants, he sent to banishment! + Perhaps the Arctic moonlight really gave + The liaison, the blissful liaison, + Between himself and his environment, + Which was, and is, chief motive, first delight, + For him, and not for him alone. It seemed + Illusive, faint, more mist than moon, perverse, + Wrong as a divagation to Peking, + To him that postulated as his theme + The vulgar, as his theme and hymn and flight, + A passionately niggling nightingale. + Moonlight was an evasion, or, if not, + A minor meeting, facile, delicate. + + Thus he conceived his voyaging to be + An up and down between two elements, + A fluctuating between sun and moon, + A sally into gold and crimson forms, + As on this voyage, out of goblinry, + And then retirement like a turning back + And sinking down to the indulgences + That in the moonlight have their habitude. + But let these backward lapses, if they would, + Grind their seductions on him, Crispin knew + It was a flourishing tropic he required + For his refreshment, an abundant zone, + Prickly and obdurate, dense, harmonious + Yet with a harmony not rarefied + Nor fined for the inhibited instruments + Of over-civil stops. And thus he tossed + Between a Carolina of old time, + A little juvenile, an ancient whim, + And the visible, circumspect presentment drawn + From what he saw across his vessel’s prow. + + He came. The poetic hero without palms + Or jugglery, without regalia. + And as he came he saw that it was spring, + A time abhorrent to the nihilist + Or searcher for the fecund minimum. + The moonlight fiction disappeared. The spring, + Although contending featly in its veils, + Irised in dew and early fragrancies, + Was gemmy marionette to him that sought + A sinewy nakedness. A river bore + The vessel inward. Tilting up his nose, + He inhaled the rancid rosin, burly smells + Of dampened lumber, emanations blown + From warehouse doors, the gustiness of ropes, + Decays of sacks, and all the arrant stinks + That helped him round his rude aesthetic out. + He savored rankness like a sensualist. + He marked the marshy ground around the dock, + The crawling railroad spur, the rotten fence, + Curriculum for the marvellous sophomore. + It purified. It made him see how much + Of what he saw he never saw at all. + He gripped more closely the essential prose + As being, in a world so falsified, + The one integrity for him, the one + Discovery still possible to make, + To which all poems were incident, unless + That prose should wear a poem’s guise at last. + + +IV + +The Idea of a Colony + + Nota: his soil is man’s intelligence. + That’s better. That’s worth crossing seas to find. + Crispin in one laconic phrase laid bare + His cloudy drift and planned a colony. + Exit the mental moonlight, exit lex, + Rex and principium, exit the whole + Shebang. Exeunt omnes. Here was prose + More exquisite than any tumbling verse: + A still new continent in which to dwell. + What was the purpose of his pilgrimage, + Whatever shape it took in Crispin’s mind, + If not, when all is said, to drive away + The shadow of his fellows from the skies, + And, from their stale intelligence released, + To make a new intelligence prevail? + Hence the reverberations in the words + Of his first central hymns, the celebrants + Of rankest trivia, tests of the strength + Of his aesthetic, his philosophy, + The more invidious, the more desired. + The florist asking aid from cabbages, + The rich man going bare, the paladin + Afraid, the blind man as astronomer, + The appointed power unwielded from disdain. + + His western voyage ended and began. + The torment of fastidious thought grew slack, + Another, still more bellicose, came on. + He, therefore, wrote his prolegomena, + And, being full of the caprice, inscribed + Commingled souvenirs and prophecies. + He made a singular collation. Thus: + The natives of the rain are rainy men. + Although they paint effulgent, azure lakes, + And April hillsides wooded white and pink, + Their azure has a cloudy edge, their white + And pink, the water bright that dogwood bears. + And in their music showering sounds intone. + On what strange froth does the gross Indian dote, + What Eden sapling gum, what honeyed gore, + What pulpy dram distilled of innocence, + That streaking gold should speak in him + Or bask within his images and words? + If these rude instances impeach themselves + By force of rudeness, let the principle + Be plain. For application Crispin strove, + Abhorring Turk as Esquimau, the lute + As the marimba, the magnolia as rose. + + Upon these premises propounding, he + Projected a colony that should extend + To the dusk of a whistling south below the south, + A comprehensive island hemisphere. + The man in Georgia waking among pines + Should be pine-spokesman. The responsive man, + Planting his pristine cores in Florida, + Should prick thereof, not on the psaltery, + But on the banjo’s categorical gut, + Tuck tuck, while the flamingos flapped his bays. + Sepulchral señors, bibbing pale mescal, + Oblivious to the Aztec almanacs, + Should make the intricate Sierra scan. + And dark Brazilians in their cafés, + Musing immaculate, pampean dits, + Should scrawl a vigilant anthology, + To be their latest, lucent paramour. + These are the broadest instances. Crispin, + Progenitor of such extensive scope, + Was not indifferent to smart detail. + The melon should have apposite ritual, + Performed in verd apparel, and the peach, + When its black branches came to bud, belle day, + Should have an incantation. And again, + When piled on salvers its aroma steeped + The summer, it should have a sacrament + And celebration. Shrewd novitiates + Should be the clerks of our experience. + + These bland excursions into time to come, + Related in romance to backward flights, + However prodigal, however proud, + Contained in their afflatus the reproach + That first drove Crispin to his wandering. + He could not be content with counterfeit, + With masquerade of thought, with hapless words + That must belie the racking masquerade, + With fictive flourishes that preordained + His passion’s permit, hang of coat, degree + Of buttons, measure of his salt. Such trash + Might help the blind, not him, serenely sly. + It irked beyond his patience. Hence it was, + Preferring text to gloss, he humbly served + Grotesque apprenticeship to chance event, + A clown, perhaps, but an aspiring clown. + There is a monotonous babbling in our dreams + That makes them our dependent heirs, the heirs + Of dreamers buried in our sleep, and not + The oncoming fantasies of better birth. + The apprentice knew these dreamers. If he dreamed + Their dreams, he did it in a gingerly way. + All dreams are vexing. Let them be expunged. + But let the rabbit run, the cock declaim. + + Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets, + With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener? + No, no: veracious page on page, exact. + + +V + +A Nice Shady Home + + Crispin as hermit, pure and capable, + Dwelt in the land. Perhaps if discontent + Had kept him still the pricking realist, + Choosing his element from droll confect + Of was and is and shall or ought to be, + Beyond Bordeaux, beyond Havana, far + Beyond carked Yucatan, he might have come + To colonize his polar planterdom + And jig his chits upon a cloudy knee. + But his emprize to that idea soon sped. + Crispin dwelt in the land and dwelling there + Slid from his continent by slow recess + To things within his actual eye, alert + To the difficulty of rebellious thought + When the sky is blue. The blue infected will. + It may be that the yarrow in his fields + Sealed pensive purple under its concern. + But day by day, now this thing and now that + Confined him, while it cosseted, condoned, + Little by little, as if the suzerain soil + Abashed him by carouse to humble yet + Attach. It seemed haphazard denouement. + He first, as realist, admitted that + Whoever hunts a matinal continent + May, after all, stop short before a plum + And be content and still be realist. + The words of things entangle and confuse. + The plum survives its poems. It may hang + In the sunshine placidly, colored by ground + Obliquities of those who pass beneath, + Harlequined and mazily dewed and mauved + In bloom. Yet it survives in its own form, + Beyond these changes, good, fat, guzzly fruit. + So Crispin hasped on the surviving form, + For him, of shall or ought to be in is. + + Was he to bray this in profoundest brass + Arointing his dreams with fugal requiems? + Was he to company vastest things defunct + With a blubber of tom-toms harrowing the sky? + Scrawl a tragedian’s testament? Prolong + His active force in an inactive dirge, + Which, let the tall musicians call and call, + Should merely call him dead? Pronounce amen + Through choirs infolded to the outmost clouds? + Because he built a cabin who once planned + Loquacious columns by the ructive sea? + Because he turned to salad-beds again? + Jovial Crispin, in calamitous crape? + Should he lay by the personal and make + Of his own fate an instance of all fate? + What is one man among so many men? + What are so many men in such a world? + Can one man think one thing and think it long? + Can one man be one thing and be it long? + The very man despising honest quilts + Lies quilted to his poll in his despite. + For realists, what is is what should be. + + And so it came, his cabin shuffled up, + His trees were planted, his duenna brought + Her prismy blonde and clapped her in his hands, + The curtains flittered and the door was closed. + Crispin, magister of a single room, + Latched up the night. So deep a sound fell down + It was as if the solitude concealed + And covered him and his congenial sleep. + So deep a sound fell down it grew to be + A long soothsaying silence down and down. + The crickets beat their tambours in the wind, + Marching a motionless march, custodians. + + In the presto of the morning, Crispin trod, + Each day, still curious, but in a round + Less prickly and much more condign than that + He once thought necessary. Like Candide, + Yeoman and grub, but with a fig in sight, + And cream for the fig and silver for the cream, + A blonde to tip the silver and to taste + The rapey gouts. Good star, how that to be + Annealed them in their cabin ribaldries! + Yet the quotidian saps philosophers + And men like Crispin like them in intent, + If not in will, to track the knaves of thought. + But the quotidian composed as his, + Of breakfast ribands, fruits laid in their leaves, + The tomtit and the cassia and the rose, + Although the rose was not the noble thorn + Of crinoline spread, but of a pining sweet, + Composed of evenings like cracked shutters flung + Upon the rumpling bottomness, and nights + In which those frail custodians watched, + Indifferent to the tepid summer cold, + While he poured out upon the lips of her + That lay beside him, the quotidian + Like this, saps like the sun, true fortuner. + For all it takes it gives a humped return + Exchequering from piebald fiscs unkeyed. + + +VI + +And Daughters with Curls + + Portentous enunciation, syllable + To blessed syllable affined, and sound + Bubbling felicity in cantilene, + Prolific and tormenting tenderness + Of music, as it comes to unison, + Forgather and bell boldly Crispin’s last + Deduction. Thrum with a proud douceur + His grand pronunciamento and devise. + + The chits came for his jigging, bluet-eyed, + Hands without touch yet touching poignantly, + Leaving no room upon his cloudy knee, + Prophetic joint, for its diviner young. + The return to social nature, once begun, + Anabasis or slump, ascent or chute, + Involved him in midwifery so dense + His cabin counted as philactary, + Then place of vexing palankeens, then haunt + Of children nibbling at the sugared void, + Infants yet eminently old, then dome + And halidom for the unbraided femes, + Green crammers of the green fruits of the world, + Bidders and biders for its ecstasies, + True daughters both of Crispin and his clay. + All this with many mulctings of the man, + Effective colonizer sharply stopped + In the door-yard by his own capacious bloom. + But that this bloom grown riper, showing nibs + Of its eventual roundness, puerile tints + Of spiced and weathery rouges, should complex + The stopper to indulgent fatalist + Was unforeseen. First Crispin smiled upon + His goldenest demoiselle, inhabitant, + She seemed, of a country of the capuchins, + So delicately blushed, so humbly eyed, + Attentive to a coronal of things + Secret and singular. Second, upon + A second similar counterpart, a maid + Most sisterly to the first, not yet awake + Excepting to the motherly footstep, but + Marvelling sometimes at the shaken sleep. + Then third, a thing still flaxen in the light, + A creeper under jaunty leaves. And fourth, + Mere blusteriness that gewgaws jollified, + All din and gobble, blasphemously pink. + A few years more and the vermeil capuchin + Gave to the cabin, lordlier than it was, + The dulcet omen fit for such a house. + The second sister dallying was shy + To fetch the one full-pinioned one himself + Out of her botches, hot embosomer. + The third one gaping at the orioles + Lettered herself demurely as became + A pearly poetess, peaked for rhapsody. + The fourth, pent now, a digit curious. + Four daughters in a world too intricate + In the beginning, four blithe instruments + Of differing struts, four voices several + In couch, four more personæ, intimate + As buffo, yet divers, four mirrors blue + That should be silver, four accustomed seeds + Hinting incredible hues, four self-same lights + That spread chromatics in hilarious dark, + Four questioners and four sure answerers. + + Crispin concocted doctrine from the rout. + The world, a turnip once so readily plucked, + Sacked up and carried overseas, daubed out + Of its ancient purple, pruned to the fertile main, + And sown again by the stiffest realist, + Came reproduced in purple, family font, + The same insoluble lump. The fatalist + Stepped in and dropped the chuckling down his craw, + Without grace or grumble. Score this anecdote + Invented for its pith, not doctrinal + In form though in design, as Crispin willed, + Disguised pronunciamento, summary, + Autumn’s compendium, strident in itself + But muted, mused, and perfectly revolved + In those portentous accents, syllables, + And sounds of music coming to accord + Upon his law, like their inherent sphere, + Seraphic proclamations of the pure + Delivered with a deluging onwardness. + Or if the music sticks, if the anecdote + Is false, if Crispin is a profitless + Philosopher, beginning with green brag, + Concluding fadedly, if as a man + Prone to distemper he abates in taste, + Fickle and fumbling, variable, obscure, + Glozing his life with after-shining flicks, + Illuminating, from a fancy gorged + By apparition, plain and common things, + Sequestering the fluster from the year, + Making gulped potions from obstreperous drops, + And so distorting, proving what he proves + Is nothing, what can all this matter since + The relation comes, benignly, to its end? + + So may the relation of each man be clipped. + + + + +From the Misery of Don Joost + + + I have finished my combat with the sun; + And my body, the old animal, + Knows nothing more. + + The powerful seasons bred and killed, + And were themselves the genii + Of their own ends. + + Oh, but the very self of the storm + Of sun and slaves, breeding and death, + The old animal, + + The senses and feeling, the very sound + And sight, and all there was of the storm, + Knows nothing more. + + + + +O, Florida, Venereal Soil + + + A few things for themselves, + Convolvulus and coral, + Buzzards and live-moss, + Tiestas from the keys, + A few things for themselves, + Florida, venereal soil, + Disclose to the lover. + + The dreadful sundry of this world, + The Cuban, Polodowsky, + The Mexican women, + The negro undertaker + Killing the time between corpses + Fishing for crayfish ... + Virgin of boorish births, + + Swiftly in the nights, + In the porches of Key West, + Behind the bougainvilleas, + After the guitar is asleep, + Lasciviously as the wind, + You come tormenting, + Insatiable, + + When you might sit, + A scholar of darkness, + Sequestered over the sea, + Wearing a clear tiara + Of red and blue and red, + Sparkling, solitary, still, + In the high sea-shadow. + + Donna, donna, dark, + Stooping in indigo gown + And cloudy constellations, + Conceal yourself or disclose + Fewest things to the lover-- + A hand that bears a thick-leaved fruit, + A pungent bloom against your shade. + + + + +Last Looks at the Lilacs + + + To what good, in the alleys of the lilacs, + O caliper, do you scratch your buttocks + And tell the divine ingénue, your companion, + That this bloom is the bloom of soap + And this fragrance the fragrance of vegetal? + + Do you suppose that she cares a tick, + In this hymeneal air, what it is + That marries her innocence thus, + So that her nakedness is near, + Or that she will pause at scurrilous words? + + Poor buffo! Look at the lavender + And look your last and look still steadily, + And say how it comes that you see + Nothing but trash and that you no longer feel + Her body quivering in the Floréal + + Toward the cool night and its fantastic star, + Prime paramour and belted paragon, + Well-booted, rugged, arrogantly male, + Patron and imager of the gold Don John, + Who will embrace her before summer comes. + + + + +The Worms at Heaven’s Gate + + + Out of the tomb, we bring Badroulbadour, + Within our bellies, we her chariot. + Here is an eye. And here are, one by one, + The lashes of that eye and its white lid. + Here is the cheek on which that lid declined, + And, finger after finger, here, the hand, + The genius of that cheek. Here are the lips, + The bundle of the body and the feet. + + * * * * * + + Out of the tomb we bring Badroulbadour. + + + + +The Jack-Rabbit + + + In the morning, + The jack-rabbit sang to the Arkansaw. + He carolled in caracoles + On the feat sandbars. + + The black man said, + “Now, grandmother, + Crochet me this buzzard + On your winding-sheet, + And do not forget his wry neck + After the winter.” + + The black man said, + “Look out, O caroller, + The entrails of the buzzard + Are rattling.” + + + + +Valley Candle + + + My candle burned alone in an immense valley. + Beams of the huge night converged upon it, + Until the wind blew. + Then beams of the huge night + Converged upon its image, + Until the wind blew. + + + + +Anecdote of Men by the Thousand + + + The soul, he said, is composed + Of the external world. + + There are men of the East, he said, + Who are the East. + There are men of a province + Who are that province + There are men of a valley + Who are that valley. + + There are men whose words + Are as natural sounds + Of their places + As the cackle of toucans + In the place of toucans. + + The mandoline is the instrument + Of a place. + + Are there mandolines of western mountains? + Are there mandolines of northern moonlight? + + The dress of a woman of Lhassa, + In its place, + Is an invisible element of that place + Made visible. + + + + +The Silver Plough-Boy + + + A black figure dances in a black field. + It seizes a sheet, from the ground, from a bush, as if spread + there by some wash-woman for the night. + It wraps the sheet around its body, until the black figure + is silver. + It dances down a furrow, in the early light, back of a crazy + plough, the green blades following. + How soon the silver fades in the dust! How soon the black + figure slips from the wrinkled sheet! How softly the + sheet falls to the ground! + + + + +The Apostrophe to Vincentine + + +I + + I figured you as nude between + Monotonous earth and dark blue sky. + It made you seem so small and lean + And nameless, + Heavenly Vincentine. + + +II + + I saw you then, as warm as flesh, + Brunette, + But yet not too brunette, + As warm, as clean. + Your dress was green, + Was whited green, + Green Vincentine. + + +III + + Then you came walking, + In a group + Of human others, + Voluble. + Yes: you came walking, + Vincentine. + Yes: you came talking. + + +IV + + And what I knew you felt + Came then. + Monotonous earth I saw become + Illimitable spheres of you, + And that white animal, so lean, + Turned Vincentine, + Turned heavenly Vincentine, + And that white animal, so lean, + Turned heavenly, heavenly Vincentine. + + + + +Floral Decorations for Bananas + + + Well, nuncle, this plainly won’t do. + These insolent, linear peels + And sullen, hurricane shapes + Won’t do with your eglantine. + They require something serpentine. + Blunt yellow in such a room! + + You should have had plums tonight, + In an eighteenth-century dish, + And pettifogging buds, + For the women of primrose and purl, + Each one in her decent curl. + Good God! What a precious light! + + But bananas hacked and hunched ... + The table was set by an ogre, + His eye on an outdoor gloom + And a stiff and noxious place. + Pile the bananas on planks. + The women will be all shanks + And bangles and slatted eyes. + + And deck the bananas in leaves + Plucked from the Carib trees, + Fibrous and dangling down, + Oozing cantankerous gum + Out of their purple maws, + Darting out of their purple craws + Their musky and tingling tongues. + + + + +Anecdote of Canna + + + Huge are the canna in the dreams of + X, the mighty thought, the mighty man. + They fill the terrace of his capitol. + + His thought sleeps not. Yet thought that wakes + In sleep may never meet another thought + Or thing.... Now day-break comes.... + + X promenades the dewy stones, + Observes the canna with a clinging eye, + Observes and then continues to observe. + + + + +Of the Manner of Addressing Clouds + + + Gloomy grammarians in golden gowns, + Meekly you keep the mortal rendezvous, + Eliciting the still sustaining pomps + Of speech which are like music so profound + They seem an exaltation without sound. + Funest philosophers and ponderers, + Their evocations are the speech of clouds. + So speech of your processionals returns + In the casual evocations of your tread + Across the stale, mysterious seasons. These + Are the music of meet resignation; these + The responsive, still sustaining pomps for you + To magnify, if in that drifting waste + You are to be accompanied by more + Than mute bare splendors of the sun and moon. + + + + +Of Heaven Considered as a Tomb + + + What word have you, interpreters, of men + Who in the tomb of heaven walk by night, + The darkened ghosts of our old comedy? + Do they believe they range the gusty cold, + With lanterns borne aloft to light the way, + Freemen of death, about and still about + To find whatever it is they seek? Or does + That burial, pillared up each day as porte + And spiritous passage into nothingness, + Foretell each night the one abysmal night, + When the host shall no more wander, nor the light + Of the steadfast lanterns creep across the dark? + Make hue among the dark comedians, + Halloo them in the topmost distances + For answer from their icy Elysée. + + + + +Of the Surface of Things + + +I + + In my room, the world is beyond my understanding; + But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four hills + and a cloud. + + +II + + From my balcony, I survey the yellow air, + Reading where I have written, + “The spring is like a belle undressing.” + + +III + + The gold tree is blue. + The singer has pulled his cloak over his head. + The moon is in the folds of the cloak. + + + + +Anecdote of the Prince of Peacocks + + + In the moonlight + I met Berserk, + In the moonlight + On the bushy plain. + Oh, sharp he was + As the sleepless! + + And, “Why are you red + In this milky blue?” + I said. + “Why sun-colored, + As if awake + In the midst of sleep?” + + “You that wander,” + So he said, + “On the bushy plain, + Forget so soon. + But I set my traps + In the midst of dreams.” + + I knew from this + That the blue ground + Was full of blocks + And blocking steel. + I knew the dread + Of the bushy plain, + + And the beauty + Of the moonlight + Falling there, + Falling + As sleep falls + In the innocent air. + + + + +A High-Toned Old Christian Woman + + + Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame. + Take the moral law and make a nave of it + And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus, + The conscience is converted into palms, + Like windy citherns hankering for hymns. + We agree in principle. That’s clear. But take + The opposing law and make a peristyle, + And from the peristyle project a masque + Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness, + Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last, + Is equally converted into palms, + Squiggling like saxophones. And palm for palm, + Madame, we are where we began. Allow, + Therefore, that in the planetary scene + Your disaffected flagellants, well-stuffed, + Smacking their muzzy bellies in parade, + Proud of such novelties of the sublime, + Such tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk, + May, merely may, madame, whip from themselves + A jovial hullabaloo among the spheres. + This will make widows wince. But fictive things + Wink as they will. Wink most when widows wince. + + + + +The Place of the Solitaires + + + Let the place of the solitaires + Be a place of perpetual undulation. + + Whether it be in mid-sea + On the dark, green water-wheel, + Or on the beaches, + There must be no cessation + Of motion, or of the noise of motion, + The renewal of noise + And manifold continuation; + + And, most, of the motion of thought + And its restless iteration, + + In the place of the solitaires, + Which is to be a place of perpetual undulation. + + + + +The Weeping Burgher + + + It is with a strange malice + That I distort the world. + + Ah! that ill humors + Should mask as white girls. + And ah! that Scaramouche + Should have a black barouche. + + The sorry verities! + Yet in excess, continual, + There is cure of sorrow. + + Permit that if as ghost I come + Among the people burning in me still, + I come as belle design + Of foppish line. + + And I, then, tortured for old speech, + A white of wildly woven rings; + I, weeping in a calcined heart, + My hands such sharp, imagined things. + + + + +The Curtains in the House of the Metaphysician + + + It comes about that the drifting of these curtains + Is full of long motions; as the ponderous + Deflations of distance; or as clouds + Inseparable from their afternoons; + Or the changing of light, the dropping + Of the silence, wide sleep and solitude + Of night, in which all motion + Is beyond us, as the firmament, + Up-rising and down-falling, bares + The last largeness, bold to see. + + + + +Banal Sojourn + + + Two wooden tubs of blue hydrangeas stand at the foot of the stone + steps. + The sky is a blue gum streaked with rose. The trees are black. + The grackles crack their throats of bone in the smooth air. + Moisture and heat have swollen the garden into a slum of bloom. + Pardie! Summer is like a fat beast, sleepy in mildew, + Our old bane, green and bloated, serene, who cries, + “That bliss of stars, that princox of evening heaven!” reminding of + seasons, + When radiance came running down, slim through the bareness. + And so it is one damns that green shade at the bottom of the land. + For who can care at the wigs despoiling the Satan ear? + And who does not seek the sky unfuzzed, soaring to the princox? + One has a malady, here, a malady. One feels a malady. + + + + +Depression before Spring + + + The cock crows + But no queen rises. + + The hair of my blonde + Is dazzling, + As the spittle of cows + Threading the wind. + + Ho! Ho! + + But ki-ki-ri-ki + Brings no rou-cou, + No rou-cou-cou. + + But no queen comes + In slipper green. + + + + +The Emperor of Ice-Cream + + + Call the roller of big cigars, + The muscular one, and bid him whip + In kitchen cups concupiscent curds. + Let the wenches dawdle in such dress + As they are used to wear, and let the boys + Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers. + Let be be finale of seem. + The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. + + Take from the dresser of deal, + Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet + On which she embroidered fantails once + And spread it so as to cover her face. + If her horny feet protrude, they come + To show how cold she is, and dumb. + Let the lamp affix its beam. + The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream. + + + + +The Cuban Doctor + + + I went to Egypt to escape + The Indian, but the Indian struck + Out of his cloud and from his sky. + + This was no worm bred in the moon, + Wriggling far down the phantom air, + And on a comfortable sofa dreamed. + + The Indian struck and disappeared. + I knew my enemy was near--I, + Drowsing in summer’s sleepiest horn. + + + + +Tea at the Palaz of Hoon + + + Not less because in purple I descended + The western day through what you called + The loneliest air, not less was I myself. + + What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard? + What were the hymns that buzzed beside my ears? + What was the sea whose tide swept through me there? + + Out of my mind the golden ointment rained, + And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard. + I was myself the compass of that sea: + + I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw + Or heard or felt came not but from myself; + And there I found myself more truly and more strange. + + + + +Exposition of the Contents of a Cab + + + Victoria Clementina, negress, + Took seven white dogs + To ride in a cab. + + Bells of the dogs chinked. + Harness of the horses shuffled + Like brazen shells. + + Oh-hé-hé! Fragrant puppets + By the green lake-pallors, + She too is flesh, + And a breech-cloth might wear, + Netted of topaz and ruby + And savage blooms; + + Thridding the squawkiest jungle + In a golden sedan, + White dogs at bay. + + What breech-cloth might you wear, + Except linen, embroidered + By elderly women? + + + + +Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock + + + The houses are haunted + By white night-gowns. + None are green, + Or purple with green rings, + Or green with yellow rings, + Or yellow with blue rings. + None of them are strange, + With socks of lace + And beaded ceintures. + People are not going + To dream of baboons and periwinkles. + Only, here and there, an old sailor, + Drunk and asleep in his boots, + Catches tigers + In red weather. + + + + +Sunday Morning + + +I + + Complacencies of the peignoir, and late + Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, + And the green freedom of a cockatoo + Upon a rug mingle to dissipate + The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. + She dreams a little, and she feels the dark + Encroachment of that old catastrophe, + As a calm darkens among water-lights. + The pungent oranges and bright, green wings + Seem things in some procession of the dead, + Winding across wide water, without sound. + The day is like wide water, without sound, + Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet + Over the seas, to silent Palestine, + Dominion of the blood and sepulchre. + + +II + + Why should she give her bounty to the dead? + What is divinity if it can come + Only in silent shadows and in dreams? + Shall she not find in comforts of the sun, + In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else + In any balm or beauty of the earth, + Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven? + Divinity must live within herself: + Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow; + Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued + Elations when the forest blooms; gusty + Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights; + All pleasures and all pains, remembering + The bough of summer and the winter branch. + These are the measures destined for her soul. + + +III + + Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth. + No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave + Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind. + He moved among us, as a muttering king, + Magnificent, would move among his hinds, + Until our blood, commingling, virginal, + With heaven, brought such requital to desire + The very hinds discerned it, in a star. + Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be + The blood of paradise? And shall the earth + Seem all of paradise that we shall know? + The sky will be much friendlier then than now, + A part of labor and a part of pain, + And next in glory to enduring love, + Not this dividing and indifferent blue. + + +IV + + She says, “I am content when wakened birds, + Before they fly, test the reality + Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings; + But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields + Return no more, where, then, is paradise?” + There is not any haunt of prophesy, + Nor any old chimera of the grave, + Neither the golden underground, nor isle + Melodious, where spirits gat them home, + Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm + Remote on heaven’s hill, that has endured + As April’s green endures; or will endure + Like her remembrance of awakened birds, + Or her desire for June and evening, tipped + By the consummation of the swallow’s wings. + + +V + + She says, “But in contentment I still feel + The need of some imperishable bliss.” + Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, + Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams + And our desires. Although she strews the leaves + Of sure obliteration on our paths, + The path sick sorrow took, the many paths + Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love + Whispered a little out of tenderness, + She makes the willow shiver in the sun + For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze + Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet. + She causes boys to pile new plums and pears + On disregarded plate. The maidens taste + And stray impassioned in the littering leaves. + + +VI + + Is there no change of death in paradise? + Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs + Hang always heavy in that perfect sky, + Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth, + With rivers like our own that seek for seas + They never find, the same receding shores + That never touch with inarticulate pang? + Why set the pear upon those river-banks + Or spice the shores with odors of the plum? + Alas, that they should wear our colors there, + The silken weavings of our afternoons, + And pick the strings of our insipid lutes! + Death is the mother of beauty, mystical, + Within whose burning bosom we devise + Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly. + + +VII + + Supple and turbulent, a ring of men + Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn + Their boisterous devotion to the sun, + Not as a god, but as a god might be, + Naked among them, like a savage source. + Their chant shall be a chant of paradise, + Out of their blood, returning to the sky; + And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice, + The windy lake wherein their lord delights, + The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills, + That choir among themselves long afterward. + They shall know well the heavenly fellowship + Of men that perish and of summer morn. + And whence they came and whither they shall go + The dew upon their feet shall manifest. + + +VIII + + She hears, upon that water without sound, + A voice that cries, “The tomb in Palestine + Is not the porch of spirits lingering. + It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.” + We live in an old chaos of the sun, + Or old dependency of day and night, + Or island solitude, unsponsored, free, + Of that wide water, inescapable. + Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail + Whistle about us their spontaneous cries; + Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness; + And, in the isolation of the sky, + At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make + Ambiguous undulations as they sink, + Downward to darkness, on extended wings. + + + + +The Virgin Carrying a Lantern + + + There are no bears among the roses, + Only a negress who supposes + Things false and wrong + + About the lantern of the beauty + Who walks, there, as a farewell duty, + Walks long and long. + + The pity that her pious egress + Should fill the vigil of a negress + With heat so strong! + + + + +Stars at Tallapoosa + + + The lines are straight and swift between the stars. + The night is not the cradle that they cry, + The criers, undulating the deep-oceaned phrase. + The lines are much too dark and much too sharp. + + The mind herein attains simplicity, + There is no moon, no single, silvered leaf. + The body is no body to be seen + But is an eye that studies its black lid. + + Let these be your delight, secretive hunter, + Wading the sea-lines, moist and ever-mingling, + Mounting the earth-lines, long and lax, lethargic. + These lines are swift and fall without diverging. + + The melon-flower nor dew nor web of either + Is like to these. But in yourself is like: + A sheaf of brilliant arrows flying straight, + Flying and falling straightway for their pleasure, + + Their pleasure that is all bright-edged and cold; + Or, if not arrows, then the nimblest motions, + Making recoveries of young nakedness + And the lost vehemence the midnights hold. + + + + +Explanation + + + Ach, Mutter, + This old, black dress, + I have been embroidering + French flowers on it. + + Not by way of romance, + Here is nothing of the ideal, + Nein, + Nein. + + It would have been different, + Liebchen, + If I had imagined myself, + In an orange gown, + Drifting through space, + Like a figure on the church-wall. + + + + +Six Significant Landscapes + + +I + + An old man sits + In the shadow of a pine tree + In China. + He sees larkspur, + Blue and white, + At the edge of the shadow, + Move in the wind. + His beard moves in the wind. + The pine tree moves in the wind. + Thus water flows + Over weeds. + + +II + + The night is of the color + Of a woman’s arm: + Night, the female, + Obscure, + Fragrant and supple, + Conceals herself. + A pool shines, + Like a bracelet + Shaken in a dance. + + +III + + I measure myself + Against a tall tree. + I find that I am much taller, + For I reach right up to the sun, + With my eye; + And I reach to the shore of the sea + With my ear. + Nevertheless, I dislike + The way the ants crawl + In and out of my shadow. + + +IV + + When my dream was near the moon, + The white folds of its gown + Filled with yellow light. + The soles of its feet + Grew red. + Its hair filled + With certain blue crystallizations + From stars, + Not far off. + + +V + + Not all the knives of the lamp-posts, + Nor the chisels of the long streets, + Nor the mallets of the domes + And high towers, + Can carve + What one star can carve, + Shining through the grape-leaves. + + +VI + + Rationalists, wearing square hats, + Think, in square rooms, + Looking at the floor, + Looking at the ceiling. + They confine themselves + To right-angled triangles. + If they tried rhomboids, + Cones, waving lines, ellipses-- + As for example, the ellipse of the half-moon-- + Rationalists would wear sombreros. + + + + +Bantams in Pine-Woods + + + Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan + Of tan with henna hackles, halt! + + Damned universal cock, as if the sun + Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail. + + Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal. + Your world is you. I am my world. + + You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat! + Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines, + + Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs, + And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos. + + + + +Anecdote of the Jar + + + I placed a jar in Tennessee, + And round it was, upon a hill. + It made the slovenly wilderness + Surround that hill. + + The wilderness rose up to it, + And sprawled around, no longer wild. + The jar was round upon the ground + And tall and of a port in air. + + It took dominion everywhere. + The jar was gray and bare. + It did not give of bird or bush, + Like nothing else in Tennessee. + + + + +Palace of the Babies + + + The disbeliever walked the moonlit place, + Outside of gates of hammered serafin, + Observing the moon-blotches on the walls. + + The yellow rocked across the still façades, + Or else sat spinning on the pinnacles, + While he imagined humming sounds and sleep. + + The walker in the moonlight walked alone, + And each blank window of the building balked + His loneliness and what was in his mind: + + If in a shimmering room the babies came, + Drawn close by dreams of fledgling wing, + It was because night nursed them in its fold. + + Night nursed not him in whose dark mind + The clambering wings of birds of black revolved, + Making harsh torment of the solitude. + + The walker in the moonlight walked alone, + And in his heart his disbelief lay cold. + His broad-brimmed hat came close upon his eyes. + + + + +Frogs Eat Butterflies. Snakes Eat Frogs. Hogs Eat Snakes. Men Eat Hogs + + + It is true that the rivers went nosing like swine, + Tugging at banks, until they seemed + Bland belly-sounds in somnolent troughs, + + That the air was heavy with the breath of these swine, + The breath of turgid summer, and + Heavy with thunder’s rattapallax, + + That the man who erected this cabin, planted + This field, and tended it awhile, + Knew not the quirks of imagery, + + That the hours of his indolent, arid days, + Grotesque with this nosing in banks, + This somnolence and rattapallax, + + Seemed to suckle themselves on his arid being, + As the swine-like rivers suckled themselves + While they went seaward to the sea-mouths. + + + + +Jasmine’s Beautiful Thoughts Underneath the Willow + + + My titillations have no foot-notes + And their memorials are the phrases + Of idiosyncratic music. + + The love that will not be transported + In an old, frizzled, flambeaued manner, + But muses on its eccentricity, + + Is like a vivid apprehension + Of bliss beyond the mutes of plaster, + Or paper souvenirs of rapture, + + Of bliss submerged beneath appearance, + In an interior ocean’s rocking + Of long, capricious fugues and chorals. + + + + +Cortège for Rosenbloom + + + Now, the wry Rosenbloom is dead + And his finical carriers tread, + On a hundred legs, the tread + Of the dead. + Rosenbloom is dead. + + They carry the wizened one + Of the color of horn + To the sullen hill, + Treading a tread + In unison for the dead. + + Rosenbloom is dead. + The tread of the carriers does not halt + On the hill, but turns + Up the sky. + They are bearing his body into the sky. + + It is the infants of misanthropes + And the infants of nothingness + That tread + The wooden ascents + Of the ascending of the dead. + + It is turbans they wear + And boots of fur + As they tread the boards + In a region of frost, + Viewing the frost. + + To a chirr of gongs + And a chitter of cries + And the heavy thrum + Of the endless tread + That they tread. + + To a jangle of doom + And a jumble of words + Of the intense poem + Of the strictest prose + Of Rosenbloom. + + And they bury him there, + Body and soul, + In a place in the sky. + The lamentable tread! + Rosenbloom is dead. + + + + +Tattoo + + + The light is like a spider. + It crawls over the water. + It crawls over the edges of the snow. + It crawls under your eyelids + And spreads its webs there-- + Its two webs. + + The webs of your eyes + Are fastened + To the flesh and bones of you + As to rafters or grass. + + There are filaments of your eyes + On the surface of the water + And in the edges of the snow. + + + + +The Bird with the Coppery, Keen Claws + + + Above the forest of the parakeets, + A parakeet of parakeets prevails, + A pip of life amid a mort of tails. + + (The rudiments of tropics are around, + Aloe of ivory, pear of rusty rind.) + His lids are white because his eyes are blind. + + He is not paradise of parakeets, + Of his gold ether, golden alguazil. + Except because he broods there and is still, + + Panache upon panache, his tails deploy + Upward and outward, in green-vented forms, + His tip a drop of water full of storms. + + But though the turbulent tinges undulate + As his pure intellect applies its laws, + He moves not on his coppery, keen claws. + + He munches a dry shell while he exerts + His will, yet never ceases, perfect cock, + To flare, in the sun-pallor of his rock. + + + + +Life Is Motion + + + In Oklahoma, + Bonnie and Josie, + Dressed in calico, + Danced around a stump. + They cried, + “Ohoyaho, + Ohoo” ... + Celebrating the marriage + Of flesh and air. + + + + +Architecture + + +I + + What manner of building shall we build? + Let us design a chastel de chasteté. + De pensée.... + Never cease to deploy the structure. + Keep the laborers shouldering plinths. + Pass the whole of life earing the clink of the + Chisels of the stone-cutters cutting the stones. + + +II + + In this house, what manner of utterance shall there be? + What heavenly dithyramb + And cantilene? + What niggling forms of gargoyle patter? + Of what shall the speech be, + In that splay of marble + And of obedient pillars? + + +III + + And how shall those come vested that come there? + In their ugly reminders? + Or gaudy as tulips? + As they climb the stairs + To the group of Flora Coddling Hecuba? + As they climb the flights + To the closes + Overlooking whole seasons? + + +IV + + Let us build the building of light. + Push up the towers + To the cock-tops. + These are the pointings of our edifice, + Which, like a gorgeous palm, + Shall tuft the commonplace. + These are the window-sill + On which the quiet moonlight lies. + + +V + + How shall we hew the sun, + Split it and make blocks, + To build a ruddy palace? + How carve the violet moon + To set in nicks? + Let us fix portals, east and west, + Abhorring green-blue north and blue-green south. + Our chiefest dome a demoiselle of gold. + Pierce the interior with pouring shafts, + In diverse chambers. + Pierce, too, with buttresses of coral air + And purple timbers, + Various argentines, + Embossings of the sky. + + +VI + + And, finally, set guardians in the grounds, + Gray, gruesome grumblers. + For no one proud, nor stiff, + No solemn one, nor pale, + No chafferer, may come + To sully the begonias, nor vex + With holy or sublime ado + The kremlin of kermess. + + +VII + + Only the lusty and the plenteous + Shall walk + The bronze-filled plazas + And the nut-shell esplanades. + + + + +The Wind Shifts + + + This is how the wind shifts: + Like the thoughts of an old human, + Who still thinks eagerly + And despairingly. + The wind shifts like this: + Like a human without illusions, + Who still feels irrational things within her. + The wind shifts like this: + Like humans approaching proudly, + Like humans approaching angrily. + This is how the wind shifts: + Like a human, heavy and heavy, + Who does not care. + + + + +Colloquy with a Polish Aunt + + _Elle savait toutes les légendes du Paradis et tous les contes de + la Pologne._ _Revue des Deux Mondes_ + + + _She_ + + How is it that my saints from Voragine, + In their embroidered slippers, touch your spleen? + + + _He_ + + Old pantaloons, duenna of the spring! + + + _She_ + + Imagination is the will of things.... + Thus, on the basis of the common drudge, + You dream of women, swathed in indigo, + Holding their books toward the nearer stars, + To read, in secret, burning secrecies.... + + + + +Gubbinal + + + That strange flower, the sun, + Is just what you say. + Have it your way. + + The world is ugly, + And the people are sad. + + That tuft of jungle feathers, + That animal eye, + Is just what you say. + + That savage of fire, + That seed, + Have it your way. + + The world is ugly, + And the people are sad. + + + + +Two Figures in Dense Violet Night + + + I had as lief be embraced by the porter at the hotel + As to get no more from the moonlight + Than your moist hand. + + Be the voice of night and Florida in my ear. + Use dusky words and dusky images. + Darken your speech. + + Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking, + But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts, + Conceiving words, + + As the night conceives the sea-sounds in silence, + And out of their droning sibilants makes + A serenade. + + Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-pole + And sleep with one eye watching the stars fall + Below Key West. + + Say that the palms are clear in a total blue, + Are clear and are obscure; that it is night; + That the moon shines. + + + + +Theory + + + I am what is around me. + + Women understand this. + One is not duchess + A hundred yards from a carriage. + + These, then are portraits: + A black vestibule; + A high bed sheltered by curtains. + + These are merely instances. + + + + +To the One of Fictive Music + + + Sister and mother and diviner love, + And of the sisterhood of the living dead + Most near, most clear, and of the clearest bloom, + And of the fragrant mothers the most dear + And queen, and of diviner love the day + And flame and summer and sweet fire, no thread + Of cloudy silver sprinkles in your gown + Its venom of renown, and on your head + No crown is simpler than the simple hair. + + Now, of the music summoned by the birth + That separates us from the wind and sea, + Yet leaves us in them, until earth becomes, + By being so much of the things we are, + Gross effigy and simulacrum, none + Gives motion to perfection more serene + Than yours, out of our imperfections wrought, + Most rare, or ever of more kindred air + In the laborious weaving that you wear. + + For so retentive of themselves are men + That music is intensest which proclaims + The near, the clear, and vaunts the clearest bloom, + And of all vigils musing the obscure, + That apprehends the most which sees and names, + As in your name, an image that is sure, + Among the arrant spices of the sun, + O bough and bush and scented vine, in whom + We give ourselves our likest issuance. + + Yet not too like, yet not so like to be + Too near, too clear, saving a little to endow + Our feigning with the strange unlike, whence springs + The difference that heavenly pity brings. + For this, musician, in your girdle fixed + Bear other perfumes. On your pale head wear + A band entwining, set with fatal stones. + Unreal, give back to us what once you gave: + The imagination that we spurned and crave. + + + + +Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion + + + You dweller in the dark cabin, + To whom the watermelon is always purple, + Whose garden is wind and moon, + + Of the two dreams, night and day, + What lover, what dreamer, would choose + The one obscured by sleep? + + Here is the plantain by your door + And the best cock of red feather + That crew before the clocks. + + A feme may come, leaf-green, + Whose coming may give revel + Beyond revelries of sleep, + + Yes, and the blackbird spread its tail, + So that the sun may speckle, + While it creaks hail. + + You dweller in the dark cabin, + Rise, since rising will not waken, + And hail, cry hail, cry hail. + + + + +Peter Quince at the Clavier + + +I + + Just as my fingers on these keys + Make music, so the self-same sounds + On my spirit make a music, too. + + Music is feeling, then, not sound; + And thus it is that what I feel, + Here in this room, desiring you, + + Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk, + Is music. It is like the strain + Waked in the elders by Susanna; + + Of a green evening, clear and warm, + She bathed in her still garden, while + The red-eyed elders, watching, felt + + The basses of their beings throb + In witching chords, and their thin blood + Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna. + + +II + + In the green water, clear and warm, + Susanna lay. + She searched + The touch of springs, + And found + Concealed imaginings. + She sighed, + For so much melody. + + Upon the bank, she stood + In the cool + Of spent emotions. + She felt, among the leaves, + The dew + Of old devotions. + + She walked upon the grass, + Still quavering. + The winds were like her maids, + On timid feet, + Fetching her woven scarves, + Yet wavering. + + A breath upon her hand + Muted the night. + She turned-- + A cymbal crashed, + And roaring horns. + + +III + + Soon, with a noise like tambourines, + Came her attendant Byzantines. + + They wondered why Susanna cried + Against the elders by her side; + + And as they whispered, the refrain + Was like a willow swept by rain. + + Anon, their lamps’ uplifted flame + Revealed Susanna and her shame. + + And then, the simpering Byzantines + Fled, with a noise like tambourines. + + +IV + + Beauty is momentary in the mind-- + The fitful tracing of a portal; + But in the flesh it is immortal. + + The body dies; the body’s beauty lives. + So evenings die, in their green going, + A wave, interminably flowing. + So gardens die, their meek breath scenting + The cowl of winter, done repenting. + So maidens die, to the auroral + Celebration of a maiden’s choral. + + Susanna’s music touched the bawdy strings + Of those white elders; but, escaping, + Left only Death’s ironic scraping. + Now, in its immortality, it plays + On the clear viol of her memory, + And makes a constant sacrament of praise. + + + + +Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird + + +I + + Among twenty snowy mountains, + The only moving thing + Was the eye of the black bird. + + +II + + I was of three minds, + Like a tree + In which there are three blackbirds. + + +III + + The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. + It was a small part of the pantomime. + + +IV + + A man and a woman + Are one. + A man and a woman and a blackbird + Are one. + + +V + + I do not know which to prefer, + The beauty of inflections + Or the beauty of innuendoes, + The blackbird whistling + Or just after. + + +VI + + Icicles filled the long window + With barbaric glass. + The shadow of the blackbird + Crossed it, to and fro. + The mood + Traced in the shadow + An indecipherable cause. + + +VII + + O thin men of Haddam, + Why do you imagine golden birds? + Do you not see how the blackbird + Walks around the feet + Of the women about you? + + +VIII + + I know noble accents + And lucid, inescapable rhythms; + But I know, too, + That the blackbird is involved + In what I know. + + +IX + + When the blackbird flew out of sight, + It marked the edge + Of one of many circles. + + +X + + At the sight of blackbirds + Flying in a green light, + Even the bawds of euphony + Would cry out sharply. + + +XI + + He rode over Connecticut + In a glass coach. + Once, a fear pierced him, + In that he mistook + The shadow of his equipage + For blackbirds. + + +XII + + The river is moving. + The blackbird must be flying. + + +XIII + + It was evening all afternoon. + It was snowing + And it was going to snow. + The blackbird sat + In the cedar-limbs. + + + + +Nomad Exquisite + + + As the immense dew of Florida + Brings forth + The big-finned palm + And green vine angering for life, + + As the immense dew of Florida + Brings forth hymn and hymn + From the beholder, + Beholding all these green sides + And gold sides of green sides, + + And blessed mornings, + Meet for the eye of the young alligator, + And lightning colors + So, in me, come flinging + Forms, flames, and the flakes of flames. + + + + +Tea + + + When the elephant’s-ear in the park + Shrivelled in frost, + And the leaves on the paths + Ran like rats, + Your lamp-light fell + On shining pillows, + Of sea-shades and sky-shades, + Like umbrellas in Java. + + + + +To the Roaring Wind + + + What syllable are you seeking, + Vocalissimus, + In the distances of sleep? + Speak it. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes + + + • Italics represented with _underscores_. + + • Obvious typographic errors silently corrected. + + • New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the + public domain. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78743 *** diff --git a/78743-h/78743-h.htm b/78743-h/78743-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86dde3a --- /dev/null +++ b/78743-h/78743-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5535 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + Harmonium | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-family: serif; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} +h1 { margin: 4em auto; } +h2 { margin-top: 4em; } +h3 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p { + margin: 0; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +.mt2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.mt4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.mt8 {margin-top: 8em;} + +.mbh { margin-bottom: 0.5em; } +.mb2 { margin-bottom: 2em; } +.mb4 { margin-bottom: 4em; } + +.fs150 { font-size: 150%; } + +.pl1 { padding-left: 1em; } + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin: 1em 27.5%; } +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } +table.autotable td, +table.autotable th { padding: 0.25em; } + +.autotable a { text-decoration: none; } + +.tdl {text-align: left;} +.tdr {text-align: right;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +blockquote { + margin-top: 0; + margin-bottom: 0; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} +.bold { font-weight: bold; } + +figcaption {font-weight: bold;} +figcaption p {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: .2em; text-align: inherit;} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} +img.w100 {width: 100%;} + + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; +} +.transnote h2 { margin-top: 1em; } + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} + +.t0 { + font-size: 350%; + font-weight: bold; + letter-spacing: .15em; + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; +} + +.ws10 { word-spacing: .8em; } +.ls2 { letter-spacing: 0.2em; } +.ls4 { letter-spacing: 0.4em; } + +.ack { max-width: 24em; } +.float-right { + text-align: right; + padding-right: 1em; +} + + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78743 ***</div> + + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 116.6875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book cover"> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p> +</div> + +<h1> +Harmonium +</h1> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p> +</div> + +<p class="center t0">Harmonium</p> + +<p class="center center ws10 fs150"> +<span class='ls2'><i>by</i></span> +<span class='ls4'>Wallace Stevens</span></p> + +<div class='mt8'> +<figure class="figcenter" id="colophon" style="width: 150px;"> + <img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="150" height="91" alt="Alfred A. Knopf colophon" data-role="presentation"> +</figure> +</div> + +<p class="center">New York +<span class='fs150'>   Alfred · A · Knopf   </span> + Mcmxxiii</p> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p> + +<p class="center"> + COPYRIGHT, 1923, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC.<br> + <br> + <i>Published, September, 1923</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center mt2 mb2"> + <i>To</i><br> + <i>MY WIFE</i> +</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p> +</div> + +<div class='poetry-container'> + <p class='ack mt4 mb4'> + The poems in this book, with the exception of + <i>The Comedian as the Letter C</i> and a few others, + have been published before in <i>Others</i>, <i>Secession</i>, + <i>Rogue</i>, <i>The Soil</i>, <i>The Modern School</i>, <i>Broom</i>, + <i>Contact</i>, <i>The New Republic</i>, <i>The Measure</i>, <i>The + Little Review</i>, <i>The Dial</i>, and particularly in + <i>Poetry: A Magazine of Verse</i>, of Chicago, + edited by Harriet Monroe.</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span></p> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Contents"> + Contents + </h2> +</div> + + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Earthy_Anecdote">Earthy Anecdote</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_15'>15</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Invective_against_Swans">Invective against Swans</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_16'>16</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#In_the_Carolinas">In the Carolinas</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_17'>17</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Paltry_Nude_Starts_on_a">The Paltry Nude Starts on a Spring Voyage</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_18'>18</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Plot_against_the_Giant">The Plot against the Giant</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_20'>20</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Infanta_Marina">Infanta Marina</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_21'>21</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Domination_of_Black">Domination of Black</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_22'>22</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Snow_Man">The Snow Man</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_24'>24</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Ordinary_Women">The Ordinary Women</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_25'>25</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Load_of_Sugar-Cane">The Load of Sugar-Cane</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_27'>27</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Le_Monocle_de_Mon_Oncle">Le Monocle de Mon Oncle</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_28'>28</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Nuances_of_a_Theme_by_Williams">Nuances of a Theme by Williams</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_34'>34</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Metaphors_of_a_Magnifico">Metaphors of a Magnifico</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_35'>35</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Ploughing_on_Sunday">Ploughing on Sunday</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_36'>36</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Cy_Est_Pourtraicte_Madame_Ste">Cy Est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste Ursule, et Les Unze +Mille Vierges</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_37'>37</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Hibiscus_on_the_Sleeping_Shores">Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_39'>39</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Fabliau_of_Florida">Fabliau of Florida</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_40'>40</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Doctor_of_Geneva">The Doctor of Geneva</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_41'>41</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Another_Weeping_Woman">Another Weeping Woman</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_42'>42</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Homunculus_et_la_Belle">Homunculus et la Belle Etoile</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_43'>43</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Comedian_as_the_Letter_C">The Comedian as the Letter C</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_46'>46</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#I_1">The World without Imagination</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_47'>47</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#II_2">Concerning the Thunderstorms of Yucatan</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_50'>50</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#III_1">Approaching Carolina</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_54'>54</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#IV_1">The Idea of a Colony</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_58'>58</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#V_1">A Nice Shady Home</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_62'>62</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> + <a href="#VI_1">And Daughters with Curls</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_66'>66</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span></p> +<a href="#From_the_Misery_of_Don_Joost">From the Misery of Don Joost</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_70'>70</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#O_Florida_Venereal_Soil">O, Florida, Venereal Soil</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_71'>71</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Last_Looks_at_the_Lilacs">Last Looks at the Lilacs</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_73'>73</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Worms_at_Heavens_Gate">The Worms at Heaven’s Gate</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_74'>74</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Jack-Rabbit">The Jack-Rabbit</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_75'>75</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Valley_Candle">Valley Candle</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_76'>76</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Anecdote_of_Men_by_the_Thousand">Anecdote of Men by the Thousand</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_77'>77</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Silver_Plough-Boy">The Silver Plough-Boy</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_78'>78</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Apostrophe_to_Vincentine">The Apostrophe to Vincentine</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_79'>79</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Floral_Decorations_for_Bananas">Floral Decorations for Bananas</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_81'>81</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Anecdote_of_Canna">Anecdote of Canna</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_83'>83</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Of_the_Manner_of_Addressing_Clouds">Of the Manner of Addressing Clouds</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_84'>84</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Of_Heaven_Considered_as_a_Tomb">Of Heaven Considered as a Tomb</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_85'>85</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Of_the_Surface_of_Things">Of the Surface of Things</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_86'>86</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Anecdote_of_the_Prince_of_Peacocks">Anecdote of the Prince of Peacocks</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_87'>87</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#A_High-Toned_Old_Christian_Woman">A High-Toned Old Christian Woman</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_89'>89</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Place_of_the_Solitaires">The Place of the Solitaires</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_90'>90</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Weeping_Burgher">The Weeping Burgher</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_91'>91</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Curtains_in_the_House">The Curtains in the House of the Metaphysician</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_92'>92</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Banal_Sojourn">Banal Sojourn</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_93'>93</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Depression_before_Spring">Depression before Spring</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_94'>94</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Emperor_of_Ice-Cream">The Emperor of Ice-Cream</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_95'>95</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Cuban_Doctor">The Cuban Doctor</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_96'>96</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Tea_at_the_Palaz_of_Hoon">Tea at the Palaz of Hoon</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_97'>97</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Exposition_of_the_Contents_of_a_Cab">Exposition of the Contents of a Cab</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_98'>98</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Disillusionment_of_Ten_OClock">Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_99'>99</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Sunday_Morning">Sunday Morning</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_100'>100</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Virgin_Carrying_a_Lantern">The Virgin Carrying a Lantern</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_105'>105</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Stars_at_Tallapoosa">Stars at Tallapoosa</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_106'>106</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Explanation">Explanation</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_107'>107</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Six_Significant_Landscapes">Six Significant Landscapes</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_108'>108</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Bantams_in_Pine-Woods">Bantams in Pine-Woods</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_111'>111</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Anecdote_of_the_Jar">Anecdote of the Jar</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_112'>112</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Palace_of_the_Babies">Palace of the Babies</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_113'>113</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> +<a href="#Frogs_Eat_Butterflies_Snakes_Eat">Frogs Eat Butterflies. Snakes Eat Frogs. Hogs +Eat Snakes. Men Eat Hogs</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_114'>114</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Jasmines_Beautiful_Thoughts">Jasmine’s Beautiful Thoughts underneath the Willow</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_115'>115</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Cortege_for_Rosenbloom">Cortège for Rosenbloom</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_116'>116</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Tattoo">Tattoo</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_118'>118</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Bird_with_the_Coppery_Keen">The Bird with the Coppery, Keen Claws</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_119'>119</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Life_Is_Motion">Life Is Motion</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_120'>120</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Architecture">Architecture</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_121'>121</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#The_Wind_Shifts">The Wind Shifts</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_124'>124</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Colloquy_with_a_Polish_Aunt">Colloquy with a Polish Aunt</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_125'>125</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Gubbinal">Gubbinal</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_126'>126</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Two_Figures_in_Dense">Two Figures in Dense Violet Night</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_127'>127</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Theory">Theory</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_128'>128</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#To_the_One_of_Fictive_Music">To the One of Fictive Music</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_129'>129</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Hymn_from_a_Watermelon_Pavilion">Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_131'>131</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Peter_Quince_at_the_Clavier">Peter Quince at the Clavier</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_132'>132</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Thirteen_Ways_of_Looking_at_a">Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_135'>135</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Nomad_Exquisite">Nomad Exquisite</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_138'>138</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#Tea">Tea</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_139'>139</a> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href="#To_the_Roaring_Wind">To the Roaring Wind</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +<a href='#Page_140'>140</a> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></p> + + + <p class='center bold fs150 mt4 mb4'> + Harmonium + </p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span></p> + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Earthy_Anecdote"> + Earthy Anecdote + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Every time the bucks went clattering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Over Oklahoma</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A firecat bristled in the way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherever they went,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They went clattering,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until they swerved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a swift, circular line</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because of the firecat.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Or until they swerved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a swift, circular line</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the left,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because of the firecat.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The bucks clattered.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The firecat went leaping,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the right, to the left,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bristled in the way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Later, the firecat closed his bright eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And slept.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Invective_against_Swans"> + Invective against Swans + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The soul, O ganders, flies beyond the parks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And far beyond the discords of the wind.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A bronze rain from the sun descending marks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The death of summer, which that time endures</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Like one who scrawls a listless testament</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of golden quirks and Paphian caricatures,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Bequeathing your white feathers to the moon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And giving your bland motions to the air.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Behold, already on the long parades</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The crows anoint the statues with their dirt.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And the soul, O ganders, being lonely, flies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond your chilly chariots, to the skies.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="In_the_Carolinas"> + In the Carolinas + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The lilacs wither in the Carolinas.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Already the new-born children interpret love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the voices of mothers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Timeless mother,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How is it that your aspic nipples</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For once vent honey?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The pine-tree sweetens my body.</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>The white iris beautifies me.</i></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Paltry_Nude_Starts_on_a"> + The Paltry Nude Starts on a + Spring Voyage + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But not on a shell, she starts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Archaic, for the sea.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But on the first-found weed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She scuds the glitters,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Noiselessly, like one more wave.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She too is discontent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And would have purple stuff upon her arms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tired of the salty harbors,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eager for the brine and bellowing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the high interiors of the sea.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind speeds her,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blowing upon her hands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And watery back.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She touches the clouds, where she goes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the circle of her traverse of the sea.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet this is meagre play</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the scurry and water-shine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As her heels foam—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not as when the goldener nude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of a later day</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Will go, like the centre of sea-green pomp,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an intenser calm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scullion of fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Across the spick torrent, ceaselessly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon her irretrievable way.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Plot_against_the_Giant"> + The Plot against the Giant + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<p class='center mbh'><i>First Girl</i></p> + <div class="verse indent0">When this yokel comes maundering,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whetting his hacker,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall run before him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Diffusing the civilest odors</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It will check him.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<p class='center mbh'> + <i>Second Girl</i> +</p> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall run before him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Arching cloths besprinkled with colors</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As small as fish-eggs.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The threads</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will abash him.</div> + </div> + + + <div class="stanza"> +<p class='center mbh'> + <i>Third Girl</i> +</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh, la ... le pauvre!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall run before him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With a curious puffing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He will bend his ear then.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall whisper</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It will undo him.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Infanta_Marina"> + Infanta Marina + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Her terrace was the sand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the palms and the twilight.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She made of the motions of her wrist</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The grandiose gestures</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of her thought.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The rumpling of the plumes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of this creature of the evening</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came to be sleights of sails</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Over the sea.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And thus she roamed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the roamings of her fan,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Partaking of the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of the evening,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As they flowed around</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And uttered their subsiding sound.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Domination_of_Black"> + Domination of Black + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">At night, by the fire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The colors of the bushes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of the fallen leaves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Repeating themselves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned in the room,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the leaves themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came striding.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The colors of their tails</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were like the leaves themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning in the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the twilight wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They swept over the room,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Just as they flew from the boughs of the hemlocks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Down to the ground.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I heard them cry—the peacocks.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was it a cry against the twilight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or against the leaves themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning in the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning as the flames</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned in the fire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning as the tails of the peacocks</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Turned in the loud fire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loud as the hemlocks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Full of the cry of the peacocks?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or was it a cry against the hemlocks?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of the window,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw how the planets gathered</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the leaves themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw how the night came,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came striding like the color of the heavy hemlocks.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I felt afraid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I remembered the cry of the peacocks.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Snow_Man"> + The Snow Man + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">One must have a mind of winter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To regard the frost and the boughs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And have been cold a long time</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To behold the junipers shagged with ice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The spruces rough in the distant glitter</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the January sun; and not to think</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of any misery in the sound of the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the sound of a few leaves,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Which is the sound of the land</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Full of the same wind</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That is blowing in the same bare place</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">For the listener, who listens in the snow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, nothing himself, beholds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Ordinary_Women"> + The Ordinary Women + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then from their poverty they rose,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From dry catarrhs, and to guitars</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They flitted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the palace walls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They flung monotony behind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned from their want, and, nonchalant,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They crowded</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The nocturnal halls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The lacquered loges huddled there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mumbled zay-zay and a-zay, a-zay.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fubbed the girandoles.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And the cold dresses that they wore,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the vapid haze of the window-bays,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were tranquil</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As they leaned and looked</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">From the window-sills at the alphabets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At beta b and gamma g,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To study</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The canting curlicues</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of heaven and of the heavenly script.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there they read of marriage-bed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ti-lill-o!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they read right long.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The gaunt guitarists on the strings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rumbled a-day and a-day, a-day.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rose on the beachy floors.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How explicit the coiffures became,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The diamond point, the sapphire point,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sequins</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the civil fans!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Insinuations of desire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Puissant speech, alike in each,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cried quittance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the wickless halls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then from their poverty they rose,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From dry guitars, and to catarrhs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They flitted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the palace walls.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Load_of_Sugar-Cane"> + The Load of Sugar-Cane + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The going of the glade-boat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is like water flowing;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Like water flowing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the green saw-grass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Under the rainbows;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Under the rainbows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That are like birds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turning, bedizened,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">While the wind still whistles</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As kildeer do,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When they rise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At the red turban</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the boatman.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Le_Monocle_de_Mon_Oncle"> + Le Monocle de Mon Oncle + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + + <div class="verse indent0">“Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is not nothing, no, no, never nothing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the clashed edges of two words that kill.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And so I mocked her in magnificent measure.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or was it that I mocked myself alone?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I wish that I might be a thinking stone.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sea of spuming thought foists up again</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The radiant bubble that she was. And then</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A deep up-pouring from some saltier well</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Within me, bursts its watery syllable.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II"> + II +</h3> + + <div class="verse indent0">A red bird flies across the golden floor.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is a red bird that seeks out his choir</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among the choirs of wind and wet and wing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A torrent will fall from him when he finds.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall I uncrumple this much-crumpled thing?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am a man of fortune greeting heirs;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For it has come that thus I greet the spring.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These choirs of welcome choir for me farewell.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No spring can follow past meridian.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet you persist with anecdotal bliss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To make believe a starry <i>connaissance</i>.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Is it for nothing, then, that old Chinese</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sat tittivating by their mountain pools</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or in the Yangste studied out their beards?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall not play the flat historic scale.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You know how Utamaro’s beauties sought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The end of love in their all-speaking braids.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You know the mountainous coiffures of Bath.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas! Have all the barbers lived in vain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That not one curl in nature has survived?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why, without pity on these studious ghosts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do you come dripping in your hair from sleep?</div> + </div> + + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">This luscious and impeccable fruit of life</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Falls, it appears, of its own weight to earth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When you were Eve, its acrid juice was sweet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Untasted, in its heavenly, orchard air.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An apple serves as well as any skull</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To be the book in which to read a round,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And is as excellent, in that it is composed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of what, like skulls, comes rotting back to ground.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But it excels in this, that as the fruit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of love, it is a book too mad to read</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before one merely reads to pass the time.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="V"> + V +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">In the high west there burns a furious star.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is for fiery boys that star was set</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And for sweet-smelling virgins close to them.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The measure of the intensity of love</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Is measure, also, of the verve of earth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For me, the firefly’s quick, electric stroke</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ticks tediously the time of one more year.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And you? Remember how the crickets came</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of their mother grass, like little kin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the pale nights, when your first imagery</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Found inklings of your bond to all that dust.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VI"> + VI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">If men at forty will be painting lakes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ephemeral blues must merge for them in one,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The basic slate, the universal hue.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is a substance in us that prevails.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But in our amours amorists discern</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such fluctuations that their scrivening</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is breathless to attend each quirky turn.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When amorists grow bald, then amours shrink</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the compass and curriculum</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of introspective exiles, lecturing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is a theme for Hyacinth alone.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VII"> + VII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The mules that angels ride come slowly down</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blazing passes, from beyond the sun.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Descensions of their tinkling bells arrive.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These muleteers are dainty of their way.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Meantime, centurions guffaw and beat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their shrilling tankards on the table-boards.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This parable, in sense, amounts to this:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The honey of heaven may or may not come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But that of earth both comes and goes at once.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Suppose these couriers brought amid their train</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A damsel heightened by eternal bloom.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VIII"> + VIII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a dull scholar, I behold, in love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An ancient aspect touching a new mind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It comes, it blooms, it bears its fruit and dies.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This trivial trope reveals a way of truth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our bloom is gone. We are the fruit thereof.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Two golden gourds distended on our vines,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We hang like warty squashes, streaked and rayed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the autumn weather, splashed with frost,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Distorted by hale fatness, turned grotesque.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The laughing sky will see the two of us</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Washed into rinds by rotting winter rains.</div> + </div> + + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IX"> + IX +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">In verses wild with motion, full of din,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loudened by cries, by clashes, quick and sure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the deadly thought of men accomplishing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their curious fates in war, come, celebrate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The faith of forty, ward of Cupido.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Most venerable heart, the lustiest conceit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is not too lusty for your broadening.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I quiz all sounds, all thoughts, all everything</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the music and manner of the paladins</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To make oblation fit. Where shall I find</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bravura adequate to this great hymn?</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="X"> + X +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The fops of fancy in their poems leave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Memorabilia of the mystic spouts,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Spontaneously watering their gritty soils.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am a yeoman, as such fellows go.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I know no magic trees, no balmy boughs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No silver-ruddy, gold-vermilion fruits.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, after all, I know a tree that bears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A semblance to the thing I have in mind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It stands gigantic, with a certain tip</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To which all birds come sometime in their time.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But when they go that tip still tips the tree.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="XI"> + XI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">If sex were all, then every trembling hand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Could make us squeak, like dolls, the wished-for words.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But note the unconscionable treachery of fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That makes us weep, laugh, grunt and groan, and shout</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Doleful heroics, pinching gestures forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From madness or delight, without regard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To that first, foremost law. Anguishing hour!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Last night, we sat beside a pool of pink,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Clippered with lilies scudding the bright chromes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Keen to the point of starlight, while a frog</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Boomed from his very belly odious chords.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="XII"> + XII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">A blue pigeon it is, that circles the blue sky,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On side-long wing, around and round and round.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A white pigeon it is, that flutters to the ground,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grown tired of flight. Like a dark rabbi, I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Observed, when young, the nature of mankind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In lordly study. Every day, I found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man proved a gobbet in my mincing world.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Like a rose rabbi, later, I pursued,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And still pursue, the origin and course</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of love, but until now I never knew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That fluttering things have so distinct a shade.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Nuances_of_a_Theme_by_Williams"> + Nuances of a Theme by Williams + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>It’s a strange courage</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>you give me, ancient star:</i></div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Shine alone in the sunrise</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>toward which you lend no part!</i></div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="I"> + I +</h3> + + <div class="verse indent0">Shine alone, shine nakedly, shine like bronze,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">that reflects neither my face nor any inner part</div> + <div class="verse indent0">of my being, shine like fire, that mirrors nothing.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + +<h3 id="II_1"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Lend no part to any humanity that suffuses you in its own light.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be not chimera of morning,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Half-man, half-star.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be not an intelligence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a widow’s bird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or an old horse.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Metaphors_of_a_Magnifico"> + Metaphors of a Magnifico + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Twenty men crossing a bridge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into a village,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into twenty villages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or one man</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crossing a single bridge into a village.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This is old song</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That will not declare itself ...</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Twenty men crossing a bridge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into a village,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Twenty men crossing a bridge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into a village.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That will not declare itself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet is certain as meaning ...</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The boots of the men clump</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the boards of the bridge.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The first white wall of the village</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rises through fruit-trees.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of what was it I was thinking?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So the meaning escapes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The first white wall of the village ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fruit-trees....</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Ploughing_on_Sunday"> + Ploughing on Sunday + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The white cock’s tail</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tosses in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The turkey-cock’s tail</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Glitters in the sun.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Water in the fields.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind pours down.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The feathers flare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And bluster in the wind.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Remus, blow your horn!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I’m ploughing on Sunday,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ploughing North America.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blow your horn!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Tum-ti-tum,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ti-tum-tum-tum!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The turkey-cock’s tail</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spreads to the sun.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The white cock’s tail</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Streams to the moon.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Water in the fields.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind pours down.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Cy_Est_Pourtraicte_Madame_Ste"> + Cy Est Pourtraicte, Madame Ste + Ursule, et Les Unze Mille + Vierges + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ursula, in a garden, found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A bed of radishes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She kneeled upon the ground</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gathered them,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With flowers around,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blue, gold, pink, and green.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She dressed in red and gold brocade</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in the grass an offering made</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of radishes and flowers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She said, “My dear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon your altars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have placed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The marguerite and coquelicot,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And roses</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frail as April snow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But here,” she said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Where none can see,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I make an offering, in the grass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of radishes and flowers.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And then she wept</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For fear the Lord would not accept.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The good Lord in His garden sought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">New leaf and shadowy tinct,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they were all His thought.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He heard her low accord,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Half prayer and half ditty,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And He felt a subtle quiver,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That was not heavenly love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or pity.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This is not writ</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In any book.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Hibiscus_on_the_Sleeping_Shores"> + Hibiscus on the Sleeping Shores + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I say now, Fernando, that on that day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mind roamed as a moth roams,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among the blooms beyond the open sand;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And that whatever noise the motion of the waves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Made on the sea-weeds and the covered stones</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Disturbed not even the most idle ear.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then it was that that monstered moth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which had lain folded against the blue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the colored purple of the lazy sea,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And which had drowsed along the bony shores,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shut to the blather that the water made,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rose up besprent and sought the flaming red</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Dabbled with yellow pollen—red as red</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the flag above the old café—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And roamed there all the stupid afternoon.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Fabliau_of_Florida"> + Fabliau of Florida + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Barque of phosphor</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the palmy beach,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Move outward into heaven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the alabasters</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And night blues.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Foam and cloud are one.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sultry moon-monsters</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are dissolving.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fill your black hull</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With white moonlight.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There will never be an end</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To this droning of the surf.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Doctor_of_Geneva"> + The Doctor of Geneva + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The doctor of Geneva stamped the sand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That lay impounding the Pacific swell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Patted his stove-pipe hat and tugged his shawl.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Lacustrine man had never been assailed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By such long-rolling opulent cataracts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unless Racine or Bossuet held the like.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He did not quail. A man so used to plumb</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The multifarious heavens felt no awe</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before these visible, voluble delugings,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Which yet found means to set his simmering mind</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spinning and hissing with oracular</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Notations of the wild, the ruinous waste,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Until the steeples of his city clanked and sprang</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an unburgherly apocalypse.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The doctor used his handkerchief and sighed.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Another_Weeping_Woman"> + Another Weeping Woman + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pour the unhappiness out</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From your too bitter heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which grieving will not sweeten.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Poison grows in this dark.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is in the water of tears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its black blooms rise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The magnificent cause of being,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The imagination, the one reality</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In this imagined world</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Leaves you</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With him for whom no phantasy moves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And you are pierced by a death.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Homunculus_et_la_Belle"> + Homunculus et la Belle + Etoile + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the sea, Biscayne, there prinks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The young emerald, evening star,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Good light for drunkards, poets, widows,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ladies soon to be married.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">By this light the salty fishes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Arch in the sea like tree-branches,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Going in many directions</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Up and down.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This light conducts</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thoughts of drunkards, the feelings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of widows and trembling ladies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The movements of fishes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How pleasant an existence it is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That this emerald charms philosophers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until they become thoughtlessly willing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To bathe their hearts in later moonlight,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Knowing that they can bring back thought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the night that is still to be silent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reflecting this thing and that,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before they sleep!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is better that, as scholars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They should think hard in the dark cuffs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of voluminous cloaks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And shave their heads and bodies.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It might well be that their mistress</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is no gaunt fugitive phantom.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She might, after all, be a wanton,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Abundantly beautiful, eager,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fecund,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From whose being by starlight, on sea-coast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The innermost good of their seeking</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Might come in the simplest of speech.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is a good light, then, for those</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That know the ultimate Plato,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tranquillizing with this jewel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The torments of confusion.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak mb4" id="The_Comedian_as_the_Letter_C"> + The Comedian as the Letter C + </h2> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span></p> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="I_1"> + I + <br> + The World without Imagination + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nota: man is the intelligence of his soil,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sovereign ghost. As such, the Socrates</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of snails, musician of pears, principium</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lex. Sed quaeritur: is this same wig</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of things, this nincompated pedagogue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Preceptor to the sea? Crispin at sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Created, in his day, a touch of doubt.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An eye most apt in gelatines and jupes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Berries of villages, a barber’s eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An eye of land, of simple salad-beds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of honest quilts, the eye of Crispin, hung</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On porpoises, instead of apricots,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And on silentious porpoises, whose snouts</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dibbled in waves that were mustachios,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inscrutable hair in an inscrutable world.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">One eats one paté, even of salt, quotha.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was not so much the lost terrestrial,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The snug hibernal from that sea and salt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That century of wind in a single puff.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What counted was mythology of self,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blotched out beyond unblotching. Crispin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lutanist of fleas, the knave, the thane,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ribboned stick, the bellowing breeches, cloak</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Of China, cap of Spain, imperative haw</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of hum, inquisitorial botanist,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And general lexicographer of mute</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And maidenly greenhorns, now beheld himself,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A skinny sailor peering in the sea-glass.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What word split up in clickering syllables</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And storming under multitudinous tones</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was name for this short-shanks in all that brunt?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin was washed away by magnitude.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The whole of life that still remained in him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dwindled to one sound strumming in his ear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ubiquitous concussion, slap and sigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Polyphony beyond his baton’s thrust.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Could Crispin stem verboseness in the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The old age of a watery realist,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Triton, dissolved in shifting diaphanes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of blue and green? A wordy, watery age</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That whispered to the sun’s compassion, made</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A convocation, nightly, of the sea-stars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And on the clopping foot-ways of the moon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lay grovelling. Triton incomplicate with that</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which made him Triton, nothing left of him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Except in faint, memorial gesturings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That were like arms and shoulders in the waves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here, something in the rise and fall of wind</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That seemed hallucinating horn, and here,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sunken voice, both of remembering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of forgetfulness, in alternate strain.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Just so an ancient Crispin was dissolved.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The valet in the tempest was annulled.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bordeaux to Yucatan, Havana next,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And then to Carolina. Simple jaunt.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin, merest minuscule in the gales,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Dejected his manner to the turbulence.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The salt hung on his spirit like a frost,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dead brine melted in him like a dew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of winter, until nothing of himself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remained, except some starker, barer self</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a starker, barer world, in which the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was not the sun because it never shone</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With bland complaisance on pale parasols,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beetled, in chapels, on the chaste bouquets.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against his pipping sounds a trumpet cried</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Celestial sneering boisterously. Crispin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Became an introspective voyager.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Here was the veritable ding an sich, at last,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin confronting it, a vocable thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But with a speech belched out of hoary darks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Noway resembling his, a visible thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And excepting negligible Triton, free</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the unavoidable shadow of himself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That lay elsewhere around him. Severance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was clear. The last distortion of romance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forsook the insatiable egotist. The sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Severs not only lands but also selves.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here was no help before reality.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin beheld and Crispin was made new.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The imagination, here, could not evade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In poems of plums, the strict austerity</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of one vast, subjugating, final tone.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The drenching of stale lives no more fell down.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What was this gaudy, gusty panoply?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of what swift destruction did it spring?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was caparison of wind and cloud</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And something given to make whole among</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ruses that were shattered by the large.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="II_2"> + II + <br> + Concerning the Thunderstorms of + Yucatan + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In Yucatan, the Maya sonneteers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the Caribbean amphitheatre,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In spite of hawk and falcon, green toucan</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And jay, still to the night-bird made their plea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As if raspberry tanagers in palms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">High up in orange air, were barbarous.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But Crispin was too destitute to find</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In any commonplace the sought-for aid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was a man made vivid by the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A man come out of luminous traversing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Much trumpeted, made desperately clear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fresh from discoveries of tidal skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To whom oracular rockings gave no rest.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into a savage color he went on.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How greatly had he grown in his demesne,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This auditor of insects! He that saw</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The stride of vanishing autumn in a park</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By way of decorous melancholy; he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That wrote his couplet yearly to the spring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As dissertation of profound delight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stopping, on voyage, in a land of snakes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Found his vicissitudes had much enlarged</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His apprehension, made him intricate</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> <div class="verse indent0">In moody rucks, and difficult and strange</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In all desires, his destitution’s mark.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was in this as other freemen are,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sonorous nutshells rattling inwardly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His violence was for aggrandizement</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And not for stupor, such as music makes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For sleepers halfway waking. He perceived</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That coolness for his heat came suddenly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And only, in the fables that he scrawled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With his own quill, in its indigenous dew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of an aesthetic tough, diverse, untamed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Incredible to prudes, the mint of dirt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Green barbarism turning paradigm.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin foresaw a curious promenade</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or, nobler, sensed an elemental fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And elemental potencies and pangs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And beautiful barenesses as yet unseen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Making the most of savagery of palms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of moonlight on the thick, cadaverous bloom</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That yuccas breed, and of the panther’s tread.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fabulous and its intrinsic verse</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came like two spirits parleying, adorned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In radiance from the Atlantic coign,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For Crispin and his quill to catechize.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But they came parleying of such an earth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So thick with sides and jagged lops of green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So intertwined with serpent-kin encoiled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among the purple tufts, the scarlet crowns,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scenting the jungle in their refuges,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So streaked with yellow, blue and green and red</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In beak and bud and fruity gobbet-skins,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That earth was like a jostling festival</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of seeds grown fat, too juicily opulent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Expanding in the gold’s maternal warmth.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So much for that. The affectionate emigrant found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A new reality in parrot-squawks.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet let that trifle pass. Now, as this odd</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Discoverer walked through the harbor streets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inspecting the cabildo, the façade</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the cathedral, making notes, he heard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A rumbling, west of Mexico, it seemed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Approaching like a gasconade of drums.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The white cabildo darkened, the façade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As sullen as the sky, was swallowed up</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In swift, successive shadows, dolefully.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The rumbling broadened as it fell. The wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came bluntly thundering, more terrible</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than the revenge of music on bassoons.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gesticulating lightning, mystical,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Made pallid flitter. Crispin, here, took flight.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An annotator has his scruples, too.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He knelt in the cathedral with the rest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This connoisseur of elemental fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Aware of exquisite thought. The storm was one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of many proclamations of the kind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proclaiming something harsher than he learned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From hearing signboards whimper in cold nights</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or seeing the midsummer artifice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of heat upon his pane. This was the span</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of force, the quintessential fact, the note</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Vulcan, that a valet seeks to own,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thing that makes him envious in phrase.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And while the torrent on the roof still droned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He felt the Andean breath. His mind was free</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And more than free, elate, intent, profound</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> <div class="verse indent0">And studious of a self possessing him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That was not in him in the crusty town</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From which he sailed. Beyond him, westward, lay</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mountainous ridges, purple balustrades,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In which the thunder, lapsing in its clap,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let down gigantic quavers of its voice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For Crispin to vociferate again.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="III_1"> + III + <br> + Approaching Carolina + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The book of moonlight is not written yet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor half begun, but, when it is, leave room</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For Crispin, fagot in the lunar fire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who, in the hubbub of his pilgrimage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through sweating changes, never could forget</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That wakefulness or meditating sleep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In which the sulky strophes willingly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bore up, in time, the somnolent, deep songs.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leave room, therefore, in that unwritten book</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the legendary moonlight that once burned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Crispin’s mind above a continent.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">America was always north to him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A northern west or western north, but north,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thereby polar, polar-purple, chilled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lank, rising and slumping from a sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of hardy foam, receding flatly, spread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In endless ledges, glittering, submerged</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cold in a boreal mistiness of the moon.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The spring came there in clinking pannicles</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of half-dissolving frost, the summer came,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If ever, whisked and wet, not ripening,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before the winter’s vacancy returned.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The myrtle, if the myrtle ever bloomed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was like a glacial pink upon the air.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> <div class="verse indent0">The green palmettoes in crepuscular ice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Clipped frigidly blue-black meridians,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Morose chiaroscuro, gauntly drawn.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How many poems he denied himself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In his observant progress, lesser things</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than the relentless contact he desired;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How many sea-masks he ignored; what sounds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He shut out from his tempering ear; what thoughts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like jades affecting the sequestered bride;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what descants, he sent to banishment!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Perhaps the Arctic moonlight really gave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The liaison, the blissful liaison,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Between himself and his environment,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which was, and is, chief motive, first delight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For him, and not for him alone. It seemed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Illusive, faint, more mist than moon, perverse,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wrong as a divagation to Peking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To him that postulated as his theme</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The vulgar, as his theme and hymn and flight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A passionately niggling nightingale.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Moonlight was an evasion, or, if not,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A minor meeting, facile, delicate.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus he conceived his voyaging to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An up and down between two elements,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A fluctuating between sun and moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sally into gold and crimson forms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As on this voyage, out of goblinry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And then retirement like a turning back</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sinking down to the indulgences</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That in the moonlight have their habitude.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But let these backward lapses, if they would,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grind their seductions on him, Crispin knew</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> <div class="verse indent0">It was a flourishing tropic he required</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For his refreshment, an abundant zone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prickly and obdurate, dense, harmonious</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet with a harmony not rarefied</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor fined for the inhibited instruments</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of over-civil stops. And thus he tossed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Between a Carolina of old time,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A little juvenile, an ancient whim,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the visible, circumspect presentment drawn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From what he saw across his vessel’s prow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He came. The poetic hero without palms</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or jugglery, without regalia.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And as he came he saw that it was spring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A time abhorrent to the nihilist</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or searcher for the fecund minimum.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The moonlight fiction disappeared. The spring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Although contending featly in its veils,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Irised in dew and early fragrancies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was gemmy marionette to him that sought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sinewy nakedness. A river bore</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The vessel inward. Tilting up his nose,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He inhaled the rancid rosin, burly smells</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of dampened lumber, emanations blown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From warehouse doors, the gustiness of ropes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Decays of sacks, and all the arrant stinks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That helped him round his rude aesthetic out.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He savored rankness like a sensualist.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He marked the marshy ground around the dock,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The crawling railroad spur, the rotten fence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Curriculum for the marvellous sophomore.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It purified. It made him see how much</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of what he saw he never saw at all.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span> <div class="verse indent0">He gripped more closely the essential prose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As being, in a world so falsified,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The one integrity for him, the one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Discovery still possible to make,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To which all poems were incident, unless</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That prose should wear a poem’s guise at last.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="IV_1"> + IV + <br> + The Idea of a Colony + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Nota: his soil is man’s intelligence.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That’s better. That’s worth crossing seas to find.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin in one laconic phrase laid bare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His cloudy drift and planned a colony.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exit the mental moonlight, exit lex,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rex and principium, exit the whole</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shebang. Exeunt omnes. Here was prose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">More exquisite than any tumbling verse:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A still new continent in which to dwell.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What was the purpose of his pilgrimage,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whatever shape it took in Crispin’s mind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If not, when all is said, to drive away</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The shadow of his fellows from the skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, from their stale intelligence released,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To make a new intelligence prevail?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hence the reverberations in the words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of his first central hymns, the celebrants</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of rankest trivia, tests of the strength</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of his aesthetic, his philosophy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The more invidious, the more desired.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The florist asking aid from cabbages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The rich man going bare, the paladin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Afraid, the blind man as astronomer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The appointed power unwielded from disdain.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">His western voyage ended and began.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The torment of fastidious thought grew slack,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Another, still more bellicose, came on.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He, therefore, wrote his prolegomena,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, being full of the caprice, inscribed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Commingled souvenirs and prophecies.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He made a singular collation. Thus:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The natives of the rain are rainy men.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Although they paint effulgent, azure lakes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And April hillsides wooded white and pink,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their azure has a cloudy edge, their white</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pink, the water bright that dogwood bears.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in their music showering sounds intone.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On what strange froth does the gross Indian dote,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What Eden sapling gum, what honeyed gore,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What pulpy dram distilled of innocence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That streaking gold should speak in him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or bask within his images and words?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If these rude instances impeach themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By force of rudeness, let the principle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be plain. For application Crispin strove,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Abhorring Turk as Esquimau, the lute</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the marimba, the magnolia as rose.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon these premises propounding, he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Projected a colony that should extend</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the dusk of a whistling south below the south,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A comprehensive island hemisphere.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The man in Georgia waking among pines</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should be pine-spokesman. The responsive man,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Planting his pristine cores in Florida,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should prick thereof, not on the psaltery,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But on the banjo’s categorical gut,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Tuck tuck, while the flamingos flapped his bays.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sepulchral señors, bibbing pale mescal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oblivious to the Aztec almanacs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should make the intricate Sierra scan.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And dark Brazilians in their cafés,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Musing immaculate, pampean dits,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should scrawl a vigilant anthology,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To be their latest, lucent paramour.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These are the broadest instances. Crispin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Progenitor of such extensive scope,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was not indifferent to smart detail.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The melon should have apposite ritual,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Performed in verd apparel, and the peach,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When its black branches came to bud, belle day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should have an incantation. And again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When piled on salvers its aroma steeped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The summer, it should have a sacrament</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And celebration. Shrewd novitiates</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should be the clerks of our experience.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">These bland excursions into time to come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Related in romance to backward flights,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">However prodigal, however proud,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Contained in their afflatus the reproach</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That first drove Crispin to his wandering.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He could not be content with counterfeit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With masquerade of thought, with hapless words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That must belie the racking masquerade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With fictive flourishes that preordained</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His passion’s permit, hang of coat, degree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of buttons, measure of his salt. Such trash</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Might help the blind, not him, serenely sly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It irked beyond his patience. Hence it was,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Preferring text to gloss, he humbly served</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grotesque apprenticeship to chance event,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A clown, perhaps, but an aspiring clown.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is a monotonous babbling in our dreams</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That makes them our dependent heirs, the heirs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of dreamers buried in our sleep, and not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The oncoming fantasies of better birth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The apprentice knew these dreamers. If he dreamed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their dreams, he did it in a gingerly way.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All dreams are vexing. Let them be expunged.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But let the rabbit run, the cock declaim.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No, no: veracious page on page, exact.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="V_1"> + V + <br> + A Nice Shady Home + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin as hermit, pure and capable,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dwelt in the land. Perhaps if discontent</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had kept him still the pricking realist,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Choosing his element from droll confect</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of was and is and shall or ought to be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond Bordeaux, beyond Havana, far</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond carked Yucatan, he might have come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To colonize his polar planterdom</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And jig his chits upon a cloudy knee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But his emprize to that idea soon sped.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin dwelt in the land and dwelling there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slid from his continent by slow recess</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To things within his actual eye, alert</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the difficulty of rebellious thought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the sky is blue. The blue infected will.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It may be that the yarrow in his fields</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sealed pensive purple under its concern.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But day by day, now this thing and now that</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Confined him, while it cosseted, condoned,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Little by little, as if the suzerain soil</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Abashed him by carouse to humble yet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attach. It seemed haphazard denouement.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He first, as realist, admitted that</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whoever hunts a matinal continent</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> <div class="verse indent0">May, after all, stop short before a plum</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And be content and still be realist.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The words of things entangle and confuse.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The plum survives its poems. It may hang</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the sunshine placidly, colored by ground</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Obliquities of those who pass beneath,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Harlequined and mazily dewed and mauved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In bloom. Yet it survives in its own form,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond these changes, good, fat, guzzly fruit.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So Crispin hasped on the surviving form,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For him, of shall or ought to be in is.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Was he to bray this in profoundest brass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Arointing his dreams with fugal requiems?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was he to company vastest things defunct</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With a blubber of tom-toms harrowing the sky?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scrawl a tragedian’s testament? Prolong</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His active force in an inactive dirge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which, let the tall musicians call and call,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should merely call him dead? Pronounce amen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through choirs infolded to the outmost clouds?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because he built a cabin who once planned</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loquacious columns by the ructive sea?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Because he turned to salad-beds again?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Jovial Crispin, in calamitous crape?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should he lay by the personal and make</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of his own fate an instance of all fate?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What is one man among so many men?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What are so many men in such a world?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can one man think one thing and think it long?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can one man be one thing and be it long?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The very man despising honest quilts</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lies quilted to his poll in his despite.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For realists, what is is what should be.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And so it came, his cabin shuffled up,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His trees were planted, his duenna brought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her prismy blonde and clapped her in his hands,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The curtains flittered and the door was closed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin, magister of a single room,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Latched up the night. So deep a sound fell down</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was as if the solitude concealed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And covered him and his congenial sleep.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So deep a sound fell down it grew to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A long soothsaying silence down and down.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The crickets beat their tambours in the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Marching a motionless march, custodians.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the presto of the morning, Crispin trod,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Each day, still curious, but in a round</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Less prickly and much more condign than that</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He once thought necessary. Like Candide,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yeoman and grub, but with a fig in sight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cream for the fig and silver for the cream,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A blonde to tip the silver and to taste</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The rapey gouts. Good star, how that to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Annealed them in their cabin ribaldries!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet the quotidian saps philosophers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And men like Crispin like them in intent,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If not in will, to track the knaves of thought.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the quotidian composed as his,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of breakfast ribands, fruits laid in their leaves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tomtit and the cassia and the rose,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Although the rose was not the noble thorn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of crinoline spread, but of a pining sweet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Composed of evenings like cracked shutters flung</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon the rumpling bottomness, and nights</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In which those frail custodians watched,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Indifferent to the tepid summer cold,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> <div class="verse indent0">While he poured out upon the lips of her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That lay beside him, the quotidian</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like this, saps like the sun, true fortuner.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For all it takes it gives a humped return</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exchequering from piebald fiscs unkeyed.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="VI_1"> + VI + <br> + And Daughters with Curls + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Portentous enunciation, syllable</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To blessed syllable affined, and sound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bubbling felicity in cantilene,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prolific and tormenting tenderness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of music, as it comes to unison,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forgather and bell boldly Crispin’s last</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deduction. Thrum with a proud douceur</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His grand pronunciamento and devise.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The chits came for his jigging, bluet-eyed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hands without touch yet touching poignantly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leaving no room upon his cloudy knee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prophetic joint, for its diviner young.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The return to social nature, once begun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Anabasis or slump, ascent or chute,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Involved him in midwifery so dense</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His cabin counted as philactary,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then place of vexing palankeens, then haunt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of children nibbling at the sugared void,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Infants yet eminently old, then dome</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And halidom for the unbraided femes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Green crammers of the green fruits of the world,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bidders and biders for its ecstasies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">True daughters both of Crispin and his clay.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> <div class="verse indent0">All this with many mulctings of the man,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Effective colonizer sharply stopped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the door-yard by his own capacious bloom.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But that this bloom grown riper, showing nibs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of its eventual roundness, puerile tints</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of spiced and weathery rouges, should complex</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The stopper to indulgent fatalist</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was unforeseen. First Crispin smiled upon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His goldenest demoiselle, inhabitant,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She seemed, of a country of the capuchins,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So delicately blushed, so humbly eyed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attentive to a coronal of things</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Secret and singular. Second, upon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A second similar counterpart, a maid</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Most sisterly to the first, not yet awake</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Excepting to the motherly footstep, but</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Marvelling sometimes at the shaken sleep.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then third, a thing still flaxen in the light,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A creeper under jaunty leaves. And fourth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mere blusteriness that gewgaws jollified,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All din and gobble, blasphemously pink.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A few years more and the vermeil capuchin</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gave to the cabin, lordlier than it was,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dulcet omen fit for such a house.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The second sister dallying was shy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To fetch the one full-pinioned one himself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of her botches, hot embosomer.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The third one gaping at the orioles</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lettered herself demurely as became</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pearly poetess, peaked for rhapsody.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fourth, pent now, a digit curious.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Four daughters in a world too intricate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the beginning, four blithe instruments</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of differing struts, four voices several</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> <div class="verse indent0">In couch, four more personæ, intimate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As buffo, yet divers, four mirrors blue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That should be silver, four accustomed seeds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hinting incredible hues, four self-same lights</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That spread chromatics in hilarious dark,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Four questioners and four sure answerers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Crispin concocted doctrine from the rout.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The world, a turnip once so readily plucked,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sacked up and carried overseas, daubed out</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of its ancient purple, pruned to the fertile main,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sown again by the stiffest realist,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came reproduced in purple, family font,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The same insoluble lump. The fatalist</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stepped in and dropped the chuckling down his craw,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Without grace or grumble. Score this anecdote</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Invented for its pith, not doctrinal</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In form though in design, as Crispin willed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Disguised pronunciamento, summary,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Autumn’s compendium, strident in itself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But muted, mused, and perfectly revolved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In those portentous accents, syllables,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sounds of music coming to accord</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon his law, like their inherent sphere,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seraphic proclamations of the pure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Delivered with a deluging onwardness.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or if the music sticks, if the anecdote</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is false, if Crispin is a profitless</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Philosopher, beginning with green brag,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Concluding fadedly, if as a man</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prone to distemper he abates in taste,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fickle and fumbling, variable, obscure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Glozing his life with after-shining flicks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Illuminating, from a fancy gorged</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> <div class="verse indent0">By apparition, plain and common things,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sequestering the fluster from the year,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Making gulped potions from obstreperous drops,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And so distorting, proving what he proves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is nothing, what can all this matter since</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The relation comes, benignly, to its end?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So may the relation of each man be clipped.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="From_the_Misery_of_Don_Joost"> + From the Misery of Don Joost + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I have finished my combat with the sun;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my body, the old animal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Knows nothing more.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The powerful seasons bred and killed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And were themselves the genii</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of their own ends.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh, but the very self of the storm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sun and slaves, breeding and death,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The old animal,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The senses and feeling, the very sound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sight, and all there was of the storm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Knows nothing more.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="O_Florida_Venereal_Soil"> + O, Florida, Venereal Soil + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A few things for themselves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Convolvulus and coral,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Buzzards and live-moss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tiestas from the keys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A few things for themselves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Florida, venereal soil,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Disclose to the lover.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The dreadful sundry of this world,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Cuban, Polodowsky,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Mexican women,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The negro undertaker</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Killing the time between corpses</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fishing for crayfish ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Virgin of boorish births,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Swiftly in the nights,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the porches of Key West,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Behind the bougainvilleas,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">After the guitar is asleep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lasciviously as the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You come tormenting,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Insatiable,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When you might sit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A scholar of darkness,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Sequestered over the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wearing a clear tiara</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of red and blue and red,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sparkling, solitary, still,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the high sea-shadow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Donna, donna, dark,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stooping in indigo gown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cloudy constellations,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Conceal yourself or disclose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fewest things to the lover—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A hand that bears a thick-leaved fruit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pungent bloom against your shade.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Last_Looks_at_the_Lilacs"> + Last Looks at the Lilacs + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To what good, in the alleys of the lilacs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O caliper, do you scratch your buttocks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tell the divine ingénue, your companion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That this bloom is the bloom of soap</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And this fragrance the fragrance of vegetal?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Do you suppose that she cares a tick,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In this hymeneal air, what it is</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That marries her innocence thus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So that her nakedness is near,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or that she will pause at scurrilous words?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Poor buffo! Look at the lavender</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And look your last and look still steadily,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And say how it comes that you see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nothing but trash and that you no longer feel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her body quivering in the Floréal</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Toward the cool night and its fantastic star,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Prime paramour and belted paragon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Well-booted, rugged, arrogantly male,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Patron and imager of the gold Don John,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who will embrace her before summer comes.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Worms_at_Heavens_Gate"> + The Worms at Heaven’s Gate + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of the tomb, we bring Badroulbadour,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Within our bellies, we her chariot.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here is an eye. And here are, one by one,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lashes of that eye and its white lid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here is the cheek on which that lid declined,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, finger after finger, here, the hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The genius of that cheek. Here are the lips,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bundle of the body and the feet.</div> + </div> +<hr class="tb"> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of the tomb we bring Badroulbadour.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Jack-Rabbit"> + The Jack-Rabbit + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the morning,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The jack-rabbit sang to the Arkansaw.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He carolled in caracoles</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the feat sandbars.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The black man said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Now, grandmother,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crochet me this buzzard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On your winding-sheet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And do not forget his wry neck</div> + <div class="verse indent0">After the winter.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The black man said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Look out, O caroller,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The entrails of the buzzard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are rattling.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Valley_Candle"> + Valley Candle + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My candle burned alone in an immense valley.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beams of the huge night converged upon it,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until the wind blew.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then beams of the huge night</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Converged upon its image,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until the wind blew.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Anecdote_of_Men_by_the_Thousand"> + Anecdote of Men by the Thousand + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The soul, he said, is composed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the external world.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There are men of the East, he said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who are the East.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There are men of a province</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who are that province</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There are men of a valley</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who are that valley.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There are men whose words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are as natural sounds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of their places</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the cackle of toucans</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the place of toucans.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The mandoline is the instrument</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of a place.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Are there mandolines of western mountains?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are there mandolines of northern moonlight?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The dress of a woman of Lhassa,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In its place,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is an invisible element of that place</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Made visible.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Silver_Plough-Boy"> + The Silver Plough-Boy + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A black figure dances in a black field.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It seizes a sheet, from the ground, from a bush, as if spread there by some wash-woman for the night.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It wraps the sheet around its body, until the black figure is silver.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It dances down a furrow, in the early light, back of a crazy plough, the green blades following.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How soon the silver fades in the dust! How soon the black figure slips from the wrinkled sheet! How softly the sheet falls to the ground!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Apostrophe_to_Vincentine"> + The Apostrophe to Vincentine + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I figured you as nude between</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Monotonous earth and dark blue sky.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It made you seem so small and lean</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And nameless,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heavenly Vincentine.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_3"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw you then, as warm as flesh,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brunette,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But yet not too brunette,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As warm, as clean.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your dress was green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was whited green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Green Vincentine.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_2"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Then you came walking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a group</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of human others,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Voluble.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes: you came walking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vincentine.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes: you came talking.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_2"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">And what I knew you felt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came then.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Monotonous earth I saw become</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Illimitable spheres of you,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that white animal, so lean,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned Vincentine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned heavenly Vincentine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that white animal, so lean,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turned heavenly, heavenly Vincentine.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Floral_Decorations_for_Bananas"> + Floral Decorations for Bananas + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Well, nuncle, this plainly won’t do.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These insolent, linear peels</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sullen, hurricane shapes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Won’t do with your eglantine.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They require something serpentine.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blunt yellow in such a room!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">You should have had plums tonight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an eighteenth-century dish,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pettifogging buds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the women of primrose and purl,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Each one in her decent curl.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Good God! What a precious light!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But bananas hacked and hunched ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The table was set by an ogre,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His eye on an outdoor gloom</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a stiff and noxious place.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pile the bananas on planks.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The women will be all shanks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And bangles and slatted eyes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And deck the bananas in leaves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Plucked from the Carib trees,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fibrous and dangling down,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Oozing cantankerous gum</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of their purple maws,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Darting out of their purple craws</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their musky and tingling tongues.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Anecdote_of_Canna"> + Anecdote of Canna + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Huge are the canna in the dreams of</div> + <div class="verse indent0">X, the mighty thought, the mighty man.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They fill the terrace of his capitol.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">His thought sleeps not. Yet thought that wakes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In sleep may never meet another thought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or thing.... Now day-break comes....</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">X promenades the dewy stones,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Observes the canna with a clinging eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Observes and then continues to observe.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Of_the_Manner_of_Addressing_Clouds"> + Of the Manner of Addressing Clouds + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Gloomy grammarians in golden gowns,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Meekly you keep the mortal rendezvous,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eliciting the still sustaining pomps</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of speech which are like music so profound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They seem an exaltation without sound.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Funest philosophers and ponderers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their evocations are the speech of clouds.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So speech of your processionals returns</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the casual evocations of your tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Across the stale, mysterious seasons. These</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are the music of meet resignation; these</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The responsive, still sustaining pomps for you</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To magnify, if in that drifting waste</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You are to be accompanied by more</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than mute bare splendors of the sun and moon.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Of_Heaven_Considered_as_a_Tomb"> + Of Heaven Considered as a Tomb + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What word have you, interpreters, of men</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who in the tomb of heaven walk by night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The darkened ghosts of our old comedy?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do they believe they range the gusty cold,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With lanterns borne aloft to light the way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Freemen of death, about and still about</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To find whatever it is they seek? Or does</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That burial, pillared up each day as porte</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spiritous passage into nothingness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Foretell each night the one abysmal night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the host shall no more wander, nor the light</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the steadfast lanterns creep across the dark?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Make hue among the dark comedians,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Halloo them in the topmost distances</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For answer from their icy Elysée.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Of_the_Surface_of_Things"> + Of the Surface of Things + </h2> +</div> + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">In my room, the world is beyond my understanding;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But when I walk I see that it consists of three or four hills and a cloud.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_4"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">From my balcony, I survey the yellow air,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reading where I have written,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“The spring is like a belle undressing.”</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_3"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The gold tree is blue.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The singer has pulled his cloak over his head.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The moon is in the folds of the cloak.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Anecdote_of_the_Prince_of_Peacocks"> + Anecdote of the Prince of Peacocks + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I met Berserk,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the bushy plain.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh, sharp he was</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the sleepless!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And, “Why are you red</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In this milky blue?”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I said.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Why sun-colored,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As if awake</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the midst of sleep?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“You that wander,”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So he said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“On the bushy plain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forget so soon.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I set my traps</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the midst of dreams.”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I knew from this</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That the blue ground</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was full of blocks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And blocking steel.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I knew the dread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the bushy plain,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And the beauty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Falling there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Falling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As sleep falls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the innocent air.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="A_High-Toned_Old_Christian_Woman"> + A High-Toned Old Christian Woman + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take the moral law and make a nave of it</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The conscience is converted into palms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like windy citherns hankering for hymns.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We agree in principle. That’s clear. But take</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The opposing law and make a peristyle,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from the peristyle project a masque</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond the planets. Thus, our bawdiness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unpurged by epitaph, indulged at last,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is equally converted into palms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Squiggling like saxophones. And palm for palm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Madame, we are where we began. Allow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Therefore, that in the planetary scene</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your disaffected flagellants, well-stuffed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smacking their muzzy bellies in parade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proud of such novelties of the sublime,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such tink and tank and tunk-a-tunk-tunk,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May, merely may, madame, whip from themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A jovial hullabaloo among the spheres.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This will make widows wince. But fictive things</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wink as they will. Wink most when widows wince.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Place_of_the_Solitaires"> + The Place of the Solitaires + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Let the place of the solitaires</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be a place of perpetual undulation.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Whether it be in mid-sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the dark, green water-wheel,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or on the beaches,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There must be no cessation</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of motion, or of the noise of motion,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The renewal of noise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And manifold continuation;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And, most, of the motion of thought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And its restless iteration,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the place of the solitaires,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which is to be a place of perpetual undulation.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Weeping_Burgher"> + The Weeping Burgher + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is with a strange malice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That I distort the world.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! that ill humors</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should mask as white girls.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ah! that Scaramouche</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should have a black barouche.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The sorry verities!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet in excess, continual,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is cure of sorrow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Permit that if as ghost I come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Among the people burning in me still,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I come as belle design</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of foppish line.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And I, then, tortured for old speech,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A white of wildly woven rings;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I, weeping in a calcined heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My hands such sharp, imagined things.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Curtains_in_the_House"> + The Curtains in the House + of the Metaphysician + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It comes about that the drifting of these curtains</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is full of long motions; as the ponderous</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deflations of distance; or as clouds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Inseparable from their afternoons;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or the changing of light, the dropping</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the silence, wide sleep and solitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of night, in which all motion</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is beyond us, as the firmament,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Up-rising and down-falling, bares</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The last largeness, bold to see.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Banal_Sojourn"> + Banal Sojourn + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Two wooden tubs of blue hydrangeas stand at the foot of the stone steps.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sky is a blue gum streaked with rose. The trees are black.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The grackles crack their throats of bone in the smooth air.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Moisture and heat have swollen the garden into a slum of bloom.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pardie! Summer is like a fat beast, sleepy in mildew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our old bane, green and bloated, serene, who cries,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“That bliss of stars, that princox of evening heaven!” reminding of seasons,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When radiance came running down, slim through the bareness.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And so it is one damns that green shade at the bottom of the land.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For who can care at the wigs despoiling the Satan ear?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And who does not seek the sky unfuzzed, soaring to the princox?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One has a malady, here, a malady. One feels a malady.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Depression_before_Spring"> + Depression before Spring + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The cock crows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But no queen rises.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The hair of my blonde</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is dazzling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the spittle of cows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Threading the wind.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ho! Ho!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But ki-ki-ri-ki</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brings no rou-cou,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No rou-cou-cou.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But no queen comes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In slipper green.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Emperor_of_Ice-Cream"> + The Emperor of Ice-Cream + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Call the roller of big cigars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The muscular one, and bid him whip</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let the wenches dawdle in such dress</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As they are used to wear, and let the boys</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bring flowers in last month’s newspapers.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let be be finale of seem.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Take from the dresser of deal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On which she embroidered fantails once</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spread it so as to cover her face.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If her horny feet protrude, they come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To show how cold she is, and dumb.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let the lamp affix its beam.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Cuban_Doctor"> + The Cuban Doctor + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I went to Egypt to escape</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Indian, but the Indian struck</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of his cloud and from his sky.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This was no worm bred in the moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wriggling far down the phantom air,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And on a comfortable sofa dreamed.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The Indian struck and disappeared.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I knew my enemy was near—I,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drowsing in summer’s sleepiest horn.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Tea_at_the_Palaz_of_Hoon"> + Tea at the Palaz of Hoon + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Not less because in purple I descended</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The western day through what you called</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The loneliest air, not less was I myself.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What was the ointment sprinkled on my beard?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What were the hymns that buzzed beside my ears?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What was the sea whose tide swept through me there?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of my mind the golden ointment rained,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my ears made the blowing hymns they heard.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I was myself the compass of that sea:</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I was the world in which I walked, and what I saw</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or heard or felt came not but from myself;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there I found myself more truly and more strange.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Exposition_of_the_Contents_of_a_Cab"> + Exposition of the Contents of a Cab + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Victoria Clementina, negress,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Took seven white dogs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To ride in a cab.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Bells of the dogs chinked.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Harness of the horses shuffled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like brazen shells.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh-hé-hé! Fragrant puppets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By the green lake-pallors,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She too is flesh,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a breech-cloth might wear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Netted of topaz and ruby</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And savage blooms;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thridding the squawkiest jungle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a golden sedan,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">White dogs at bay.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What breech-cloth might you wear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Except linen, embroidered</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By elderly women?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Disillusionment_of_Ten_OClock"> + Disillusionment of Ten O’Clock + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The houses are haunted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By white night-gowns.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">None are green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or purple with green rings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or green with yellow rings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or yellow with blue rings.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">None of them are strange,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With socks of lace</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And beaded ceintures.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">People are not going</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To dream of baboons and periwinkles.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Only, here and there, an old sailor,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drunk and asleep in his boots,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Catches tigers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In red weather.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Sunday_Morning"> + Sunday Morning + </h2> +</div> + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Complacencies of the peignoir, and late</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the green freedom of a cockatoo</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon a rug mingle to dissipate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She dreams a little, and she feels the dark</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Encroachment of that old catastrophe,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As a calm darkens among water-lights.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pungent oranges and bright, green wings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seem things in some procession of the dead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Winding across wide water, without sound.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The day is like wide water, without sound,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stilled for the passing of her dreaming feet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Over the seas, to silent Palestine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dominion of the blood and sepulchre.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_5"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Why should she give her bounty to the dead?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What is divinity if it can come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Only in silent shadows and in dreams?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall she not find in comforts of the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In pungent fruit and bright, green wings, or else</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In any balm or beauty of the earth,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Things to be cherished like the thought of heaven?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Divinity must live within herself:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Passions of rain, or moods in falling snow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grievings in loneliness, or unsubdued</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Elations when the forest blooms; gusty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Emotions on wet roads on autumn nights;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All pleasures and all pains, remembering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bough of summer and the winter branch.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These are the measures destined for her soul.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_4"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Jove in the clouds had his inhuman birth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No mother suckled him, no sweet land gave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Large-mannered motions to his mythy mind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He moved among us, as a muttering king,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Magnificent, would move among his hinds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until our blood, commingling, virginal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With heaven, brought such requital to desire</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The very hinds discerned it, in a star.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall our blood fail? Or shall it come to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blood of paradise? And shall the earth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seem all of paradise that we shall know?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sky will be much friendlier then than now,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A part of labor and a part of pain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And next in glory to enduring love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not this dividing and indifferent blue.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_3"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">She says, “I am content when wakened birds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before they fly, test the reality</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Return no more, where, then, is paradise?”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is not any haunt of prophesy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor any old chimera of the grave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Neither the golden underground, nor isle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Melodious, where spirits gat them home,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Remote on heaven’s hill, that has endured</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As April’s green endures; or will endure</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like her remembrance of awakened birds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or her desire for June and evening, tipped</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By the consummation of the swallow’s wings.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="V_2"> + V +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">She says, “But in contentment I still feel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The need of some imperishable bliss.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And our desires. Although she strews the leaves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sure obliteration on our paths,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The path sick sorrow took, the many paths</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whispered a little out of tenderness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She makes the willow shiver in the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For maidens who were wont to sit and gaze</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon the grass, relinquished to their feet.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She causes boys to pile new plums and pears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On disregarded plate. The maidens taste</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And stray impassioned in the littering leaves.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VI_2"> + VI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Is there no change of death in paradise?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Does ripe fruit never fall? Or do the boughs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hang always heavy in that perfect sky,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Unchanging, yet so like our perishing earth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With rivers like our own that seek for seas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They never find, the same receding shores</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That never touch with inarticulate pang?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why set the pear upon those river-banks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or spice the shores with odors of the plum?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas, that they should wear our colors there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The silken weavings of our afternoons,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pick the strings of our insipid lutes!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death is the mother of beauty, mystical,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Within whose burning bosom we devise</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our earthly mothers waiting, sleeplessly.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VII_1"> + VII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Supple and turbulent, a ring of men</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their boisterous devotion to the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not as a god, but as a god might be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Naked among them, like a savage source.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their chant shall be a chant of paradise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of their blood, returning to the sky;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in their chant shall enter, voice by voice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The windy lake wherein their lord delights,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The trees, like serafin, and echoing hills,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That choir among themselves long afterward.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They shall know well the heavenly fellowship</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of men that perish and of summer morn.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And whence they came and whither they shall go</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dew upon their feet shall manifest.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VIII_1"> + VIII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">She hears, upon that water without sound,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A voice that cries, “The tomb in Palestine</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Is not the porch of spirits lingering.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It is the grave of Jesus, where he lay.”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We live in an old chaos of the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or old dependency of day and night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or island solitude, unsponsored, free,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of that wide water, inescapable.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, in the isolation of the sky,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ambiguous undulations as they sink,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Downward to darkness, on extended wings.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Virgin_Carrying_a_Lantern"> + The Virgin Carrying a Lantern + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There are no bears among the roses,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Only a negress who supposes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Things false and wrong</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">About the lantern of the beauty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who walks, there, as a farewell duty,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Walks long and long.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The pity that her pious egress</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should fill the vigil of a negress</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With heat so strong!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Stars_at_Tallapoosa"> + Stars at Tallapoosa + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The lines are straight and swift between the stars.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The night is not the cradle that they cry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The criers, undulating the deep-oceaned phrase.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lines are much too dark and much too sharp.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The mind herein attains simplicity,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There is no moon, no single, silvered leaf.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The body is no body to be seen</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But is an eye that studies its black lid.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Let these be your delight, secretive hunter,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wading the sea-lines, moist and ever-mingling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mounting the earth-lines, long and lax, lethargic.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These lines are swift and fall without diverging.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The melon-flower nor dew nor web of either</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is like to these. But in yourself is like:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sheaf of brilliant arrows flying straight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flying and falling straightway for their pleasure,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Their pleasure that is all bright-edged and cold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or, if not arrows, then the nimblest motions,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Making recoveries of young nakedness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the lost vehemence the midnights hold.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Explanation"> + Explanation + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ach, Mutter,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This old, black dress,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I have been embroidering</div> + <div class="verse indent0">French flowers on it.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Not by way of romance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here is nothing of the ideal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nein,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nein.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It would have been different,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Liebchen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If I had imagined myself,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an orange gown,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drifting through space,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a figure on the church-wall.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Six_Significant_Landscapes"> + Six Significant Landscapes + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">An old man sits</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the shadow of a pine tree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In China.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He sees larkspur,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blue and white,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At the edge of the shadow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Move in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His beard moves in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pine tree moves in the wind.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus water flows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Over weeds.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_6"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The night is of the color</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of a woman’s arm:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Night, the female,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Obscure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fragrant and supple,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Conceals herself.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pool shines,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a bracelet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shaken in a dance.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_5"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I measure myself</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against a tall tree.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I find that I am much taller,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For I reach right up to the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With my eye;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I reach to the shore of the sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With my ear.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nevertheless, I dislike</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The way the ants crawl</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In and out of my shadow.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_4"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">When my dream was near the moon,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The white folds of its gown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Filled with yellow light.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The soles of its feet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grew red.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its hair filled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With certain blue crystallizations</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From stars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not far off.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="V_3"> + V +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Not all the knives of the lamp-posts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor the chisels of the long streets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor the mallets of the domes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And high towers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can carve</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What one star can carve,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shining through the grape-leaves.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VI_3"> + VI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Rationalists, wearing square hats,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Think, in square rooms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Looking at the floor,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Looking at the ceiling.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They confine themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To right-angled triangles.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If they tried rhomboids,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cones, waving lines, ellipses—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As for example, the ellipse of the half-moon—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rationalists would wear sombreros.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Bantams_in_Pine-Woods"> + Bantams in Pine-Woods + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of tan with henna hackles, halt!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Damned universal cock, as if the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your world is you. I am my world.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Anecdote_of_the_Jar"> + Anecdote of the Jar + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I placed a jar in Tennessee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And round it was, upon a hill.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It made the slovenly wilderness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Surround that hill.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The wilderness rose up to it,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sprawled around, no longer wild.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The jar was round upon the ground</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tall and of a port in air.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It took dominion everywhere.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The jar was gray and bare.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It did not give of bird or bush,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like nothing else in Tennessee.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Palace_of_the_Babies"> + Palace of the Babies + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The disbeliever walked the moonlit place,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Outside of gates of hammered serafin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Observing the moon-blotches on the walls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The yellow rocked across the still façades,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or else sat spinning on the pinnacles,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While he imagined humming sounds and sleep.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The walker in the moonlight walked alone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And each blank window of the building balked</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His loneliness and what was in his mind:</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">If in a shimmering room the babies came,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drawn close by dreams of fledgling wing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was because night nursed them in its fold.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Night nursed not him in whose dark mind</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The clambering wings of birds of black revolved,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Making harsh torment of the solitude.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The walker in the moonlight walked alone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in his heart his disbelief lay cold.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His broad-brimmed hat came close upon his eyes.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Frogs_Eat_Butterflies_Snakes_Eat"> + Frogs Eat Butterflies. Snakes Eat + Frogs. Hogs Eat Snakes. + Men Eat Hogs + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is true that the rivers went nosing like swine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tugging at banks, until they seemed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bland belly-sounds in somnolent troughs,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That the air was heavy with the breath of these swine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The breath of turgid summer, and</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heavy with thunder’s rattapallax,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That the man who erected this cabin, planted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This field, and tended it awhile,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Knew not the quirks of imagery,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That the hours of his indolent, arid days,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grotesque with this nosing in banks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This somnolence and rattapallax,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Seemed to suckle themselves on his arid being,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the swine-like rivers suckled themselves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While they went seaward to the sea-mouths.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Jasmines_Beautiful_Thoughts"> + Jasmine’s Beautiful Thoughts + Underneath the Willow + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My titillations have no foot-notes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And their memorials are the phrases</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of idiosyncratic music.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The love that will not be transported</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an old, frizzled, flambeaued manner,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But muses on its eccentricity,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Is like a vivid apprehension</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of bliss beyond the mutes of plaster,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or paper souvenirs of rapture,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of bliss submerged beneath appearance,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In an interior ocean’s rocking</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of long, capricious fugues and chorals.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Cortege_for_Rosenbloom"> + Cortège for Rosenbloom + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, the wry Rosenbloom is dead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And his finical carriers tread,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On a hundred legs, the tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the dead.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rosenbloom is dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They carry the wizened one</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the color of horn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the sullen hill,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Treading a tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In unison for the dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Rosenbloom is dead.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The tread of the carriers does not halt</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the hill, but turns</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Up the sky.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They are bearing his body into the sky.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is the infants of misanthropes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the infants of nothingness</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wooden ascents</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the ascending of the dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">It is turbans they wear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And boots of fur</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> <div class="verse indent0">As they tread the boards</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a region of frost,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Viewing the frost.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To a chirr of gongs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a chitter of cries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the heavy thrum</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the endless tread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That they tread.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To a jangle of doom</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a jumble of words</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the intense poem</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the strictest prose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of Rosenbloom.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And they bury him there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Body and soul,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a place in the sky.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lamentable tread!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rosenbloom is dead.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Tattoo"> + Tattoo + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The light is like a spider.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It crawls over the water.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It crawls over the edges of the snow.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It crawls under your eyelids</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spreads its webs there—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its two webs.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The webs of your eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are fastened</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the flesh and bones of you</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As to rafters or grass.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There are filaments of your eyes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the surface of the water</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in the edges of the snow.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Bird_with_the_Coppery_Keen"> + The Bird with the Coppery, Keen + Claws + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Above the forest of the parakeets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A parakeet of parakeets prevails,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pip of life amid a mort of tails.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">(The rudiments of tropics are around,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Aloe of ivory, pear of rusty rind.)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His lids are white because his eyes are blind.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He is not paradise of parakeets,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of his gold ether, golden alguazil.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Except because he broods there and is still,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Panache upon panache, his tails deploy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upward and outward, in green-vented forms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His tip a drop of water full of storms.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But though the turbulent tinges undulate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As his pure intellect applies its laws,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He moves not on his coppery, keen claws.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He munches a dry shell while he exerts</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His will, yet never ceases, perfect cock,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To flare, in the sun-pallor of his rock.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Life_Is_Motion"> + Life Is Motion + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In Oklahoma,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bonnie and Josie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dressed in calico,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Danced around a stump.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They cried,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Ohoyaho,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ohoo” ...</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Celebrating the marriage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of flesh and air.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Architecture"> + Architecture + </h2> +</div> + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">What manner of building shall we build?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us design a chastel de chasteté.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">De pensée....</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never cease to deploy the structure.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Keep the laborers shouldering plinths.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pass the whole of life earing the clink of the</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chisels of the stone-cutters cutting the stones.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_7"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">In this house, what manner of utterance shall there be?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What heavenly dithyramb</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cantilene?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What niggling forms of gargoyle patter?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of what shall the speech be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In that splay of marble</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of obedient pillars?</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_6"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">And how shall those come vested that come there?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In their ugly reminders?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or gaudy as tulips?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As they climb the stairs</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> <div class="verse indent0">To the group of Flora Coddling Hecuba?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As they climb the flights</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the closes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Overlooking whole seasons?</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_5"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us build the building of light.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Push up the towers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the cock-tops.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These are the pointings of our edifice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which, like a gorgeous palm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall tuft the commonplace.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These are the window-sill</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On which the quiet moonlight lies.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="V_4"> + V +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">How shall we hew the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Split it and make blocks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To build a ruddy palace?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How carve the violet moon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To set in nicks?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us fix portals, east and west,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Abhorring green-blue north and blue-green south.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our chiefest dome a demoiselle of gold.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pierce the interior with pouring shafts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In diverse chambers.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pierce, too, with buttresses of coral air</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And purple timbers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Various argentines,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Embossings of the sky.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span></p> + + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VI_4"> + VI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">And, finally, set guardians in the grounds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gray, gruesome grumblers.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For no one proud, nor stiff,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No solemn one, nor pale,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No chafferer, may come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To sully the begonias, nor vex</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With holy or sublime ado</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The kremlin of kermess.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VII_2"> + VII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Only the lusty and the plenteous</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall walk</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bronze-filled plazas</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the nut-shell esplanades.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Wind_Shifts"> + The Wind Shifts + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This is how the wind shifts:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the thoughts of an old human,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who still thinks eagerly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And despairingly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind shifts like this:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a human without illusions,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who still feels irrational things within her.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The wind shifts like this:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like humans approaching proudly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like humans approaching angrily.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This is how the wind shifts:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a human, heavy and heavy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who does not care.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Colloquy_with_a_Polish_Aunt"> + Colloquy with a Polish Aunt + </h2> +</div> + +<div class='poetry-container'> +<div class='ack'> +<p><i>Elle savait toutes les légendes du Paradis et tous les contes +de la Pologne.</i></p> + +<p class="float-right"> + <i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> +</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='mbh pl1'><i>She</i></p> + <div class="verse indent0">How is it that my saints from Voragine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In their embroidered slippers, touch your spleen?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='mbh pl1'><i>He</i></p> + <div class="verse indent0">Old pantaloons, duenna of the spring!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='mbh pl1'><i>She</i></p> + <div class="verse indent0">Imagination is the will of things....</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus, on the basis of the common drudge,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">You dream of women, swathed in indigo,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Holding their books toward the nearer stars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To read, in secret, burning secrecies....</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Gubbinal"> + Gubbinal + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That strange flower, the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is just what you say.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have it your way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The world is ugly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the people are sad.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That tuft of jungle feathers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That animal eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is just what you say.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That savage of fire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That seed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have it your way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The world is ugly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the people are sad.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Two_Figures_in_Dense"> + Two Figures in Dense + Violet Night + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I had as lief be embraced by the porter at the hotel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As to get no more from the moonlight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than your moist hand.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Be the voice of night and Florida in my ear.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Use dusky words and dusky images.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Darken your speech.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Speak, even, as if I did not hear you speaking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But spoke for you perfectly in my thoughts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Conceiving words,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As the night conceives the sea-sounds in silence,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And out of their droning sibilants makes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A serenade.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Say, puerile, that the buzzards crouch on the ridge-pole</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sleep with one eye watching the stars fall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Below Key West.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Say that the palms are clear in a total blue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are clear and are obscure; that it is night;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That the moon shines.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Theory"> + Theory + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I am what is around me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Women understand this.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One is not duchess</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A hundred yards from a carriage.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">These, then are portraits:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A black vestibule;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A high bed sheltered by curtains.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">These are merely instances.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="To_the_One_of_Fictive_Music"> + To the One of Fictive Music + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sister and mother and diviner love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of the sisterhood of the living dead</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Most near, most clear, and of the clearest bloom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of the fragrant mothers the most dear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And queen, and of diviner love the day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And flame and summer and sweet fire, no thread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of cloudy silver sprinkles in your gown</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its venom of renown, and on your head</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No crown is simpler than the simple hair.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, of the music summoned by the birth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That separates us from the wind and sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet leaves us in them, until earth becomes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By being so much of the things we are,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gross effigy and simulacrum, none</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gives motion to perfection more serene</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Than yours, out of our imperfections wrought,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Most rare, or ever of more kindred air</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the laborious weaving that you wear.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">For so retentive of themselves are men</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That music is intensest which proclaims</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The near, the clear, and vaunts the clearest bloom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of all vigils musing the obscure,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That apprehends the most which sees and names,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As in your name, an image that is sure,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> <div class="verse indent0">Among the arrant spices of the sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O bough and bush and scented vine, in whom</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We give ourselves our likest issuance.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet not too like, yet not so like to be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Too near, too clear, saving a little to endow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our feigning with the strange unlike, whence springs</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The difference that heavenly pity brings.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For this, musician, in your girdle fixed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bear other perfumes. On your pale head wear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A band entwining, set with fatal stones.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unreal, give back to us what once you gave:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The imagination that we spurned and crave.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Hymn_from_a_Watermelon_Pavilion"> + Hymn from a Watermelon Pavilion + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">You dweller in the dark cabin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To whom the watermelon is always purple,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose garden is wind and moon,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the two dreams, night and day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What lover, what dreamer, would choose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The one obscured by sleep?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Here is the plantain by your door</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the best cock of red feather</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That crew before the clocks.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A feme may come, leaf-green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose coming may give revel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beyond revelries of sleep,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes, and the blackbird spread its tail,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So that the sun may speckle,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While it creaks hail.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">You dweller in the dark cabin,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rise, since rising will not waken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hail, cry hail, cry hail.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Peter_Quince_at_the_Clavier"> + Peter Quince at the Clavier + </h2> +</div> + + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Just as my fingers on these keys</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Make music, so the self-same sounds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On my spirit make a music, too.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Music is feeling, then, not sound;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thus it is that what I feel,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here in this room, desiring you,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is music. It is like the strain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waked in the elders by Susanna;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of a green evening, clear and warm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She bathed in her still garden, while</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The red-eyed elders, watching, felt</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The basses of their beings throb</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In witching chords, and their thin blood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_8"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">In the green water, clear and warm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Susanna lay.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">She searched</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The touch of springs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Concealed imaginings.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She sighed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For so much melody.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon the bank, she stood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the cool</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of spent emotions.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She felt, among the leaves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of old devotions.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She walked upon the grass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still quavering.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The winds were like her maids,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On timid feet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fetching her woven scarves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet wavering.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A breath upon her hand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Muted the night.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She turned—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A cymbal crashed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And roaring horns.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_7"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Soon, with a noise like tambourines,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Came her attendant Byzantines.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They wondered why Susanna cried</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against the elders by her side;</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And as they whispered, the refrain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was like a willow swept by rain.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Anon, their lamps’ uplifted flame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Revealed Susanna and her shame.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And then, the simpering Byzantines</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fled, with a noise like tambourines.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_6"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Beauty is momentary in the mind—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fitful tracing of a portal;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But in the flesh it is immortal.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The body dies; the body’s beauty lives.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So evenings die, in their green going,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A wave, interminably flowing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So gardens die, their meek breath scenting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The cowl of winter, done repenting.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So maidens die, to the auroral</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Celebration of a maiden’s choral.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Susanna’s music touched the bawdy strings</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of those white elders; but, escaping,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left only Death’s ironic scraping.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, in its immortality, it plays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the clear viol of her memory,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And makes a constant sacrament of praise.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Thirteen_Ways_of_Looking_at_a"> + Thirteen Ways of Looking at a + Blackbird + </h2> +</div> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> +<h3>I</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Among twenty snowy mountains,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The only moving thing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was the eye of the black bird.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="II_9"> + II +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I was of three minds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a tree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In which there are three blackbirds.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="III_8"> + III +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was a small part of the pantomime.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IV_7"> + IV +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">A man and a woman</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are one.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A man and a woman and a blackbird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are one.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="V_5"> + V +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I do not know which to prefer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The beauty of inflections</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Or the beauty of innuendoes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blackbird whistling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or just after.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VI_5"> + VI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">Icicles filled the long window</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With barbaric glass.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The shadow of the blackbird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Crossed it, to and fro.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Traced in the shadow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An indecipherable cause.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VII_3"> + VII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">O thin men of Haddam,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why do you imagine golden birds?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Do you not see how the blackbird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Walks around the feet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the women about you?</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="VIII_2"> + VIII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">I know noble accents</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lucid, inescapable rhythms;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I know, too,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That the blackbird is involved</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In what I know.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="IX_1"> + IX +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">When the blackbird flew out of sight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It marked the edge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of one of many circles.</div> + </div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span></p> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="X_1"> + X +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">At the sight of blackbirds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flying in a green light,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even the bawds of euphony</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would cry out sharply.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="XI_1"> + XI +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">He rode over Connecticut</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a glass coach.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Once, a fear pierced him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In that he mistook</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The shadow of his equipage</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For blackbirds.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="XII_1"> + XII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">The river is moving.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blackbird must be flying.</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> +<h3 id="XIII"> + XIII +</h3> + <div class="verse indent0">It was evening all afternoon.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It was snowing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And it was going to snow.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blackbird sat</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the cedar-limbs.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Nomad_Exquisite"> + Nomad Exquisite + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As the immense dew of Florida</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brings forth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The big-finned palm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And green vine angering for life,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As the immense dew of Florida</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brings forth hymn and hymn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the beholder,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beholding all these green sides</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gold sides of green sides,</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And blessed mornings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Meet for the eye of the young alligator,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lightning colors</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So, in me, come flinging</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forms, flames, and the flakes of flames.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Tea"> + Tea + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When the elephant’s-ear in the park</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shrivelled in frost,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the leaves on the paths</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ran like rats,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your lamp-light fell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On shining pillows,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sea-shades and sky-shades,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like umbrellas in Java.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="To_the_Roaring_Wind"> + To the Roaring Wind + </h2> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What syllable are you seeking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vocalissimus,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the distances of sleep?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Speak it.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p class='center mt2 allsmcap' id="THE_END"> + THE END +</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter transnote"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> + Transcriber’s Notes + </h2> + +<ul> +<li>Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.</li> + +<li>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted +to the public domain.</li> +</ul> + +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78743 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78743-h/images/colophon.jpg b/78743-h/images/colophon.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 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