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Page 1 of 11898 · PDF PAGE 5
…PHILOSOPHER ! Dear Friend ! Lover and Lord ! accept the verse That marches like a sombre hearse, Bearing Truth’s coffin, to the end. Let man’s distorted worships blend In this, the worthier and the worse, And penetrate the primal curse. Alas ! They will not comprehend. Accept this gospel of disease In wanton words proclaimed, receive The blood-wrought chaplet that I weave. Take me, and with thine infamies Mingle my shame, and on my breast Let thy desire achieve the rest. Midnight, 1897—1898.
1898 · PDF PAGE 15
…breath, Absorbed my life in His, dispersed me, gave me death. VIII. This is release, is freedom, is desire ; This is the one hope that a man may gain ; This is the lasting ecstasy of pain That fools reject, the dread, the searching fire That quivers in the marrow, that in vain Burns secretly The unconsuméd bush where God lurks privily. 1 5
1898 · PDF PAGE 16
… Of selfishness ? How purge the spirit quite Of gross desires That eat into the heart with their corrupting fires ? X. Old Buddh gave command ; Jehovah spake ; Strange distant gods that are not dead to-day Added their voices ; Heaven’s desart way Man wins not but by sorrow—let him break The golden image with the feet of clay ! Let him despise That earthen vessel which the potter marred—and rise ! 1 6
1898 · PDF PAGE 21
…lead my lust To more deceitful vices, to the deeds At whose sweet name the side of Jesus bleeds In sympathy new-nurtured by the trust Of man’s forgiveness that his passion breeds— These petty crimes ! God grant they grow intense in newer, worthier times ! XX. Yet—shall I make me subject to a pang So horrible ? O God, abase me still ! Break with Thy rod my unrepentant will, Lest Hell entrap me with an iron fang ! Grind me, most high Jehovah, in the mill That grinds so small ! Grind down to dust and powder Pride of Life—and all ! 2 1
1898 · PDF PAGE 17
…e dross, that wings the heart to its desire. XII. No prostitution may be shunned by him Who would achieve this Heaven. No satyr-song, No maniac dance shall ply so fast the thong Of lust’s imagining perversely dim That no man’s spirit may keep pace, so strong Its pang must pierce ; Nor all the pains of hell may be one tithe as fierce. 1 7
1898 · PDF PAGE 7
…n my phrenzy, till he became the prey of a real physical fear ! How I shrieked out I know not what strange words ! And the poor good old man tried all he could to calm me ; he thought I was mad ! The fool ! I was in the death struggle with self : God and Satan fought for my soul those three long hours. God conquered—now I have only one doubt left—which of the twain was God ? Howbeit, I aspire ! I