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Page 1 of 11907 · PDF PAGE 48
LA CASQUE D'OR A NINA OLIVIER OU laughing little light of wickedness, low ripples round you love and coils And twists the Casque of Gold about the child-face with a child-caress. O glory of the tangled net! O subtle vase of scented oils! You laughing little light of wickedness! Through all the misty wind of light that glamours round you, sorceress, Your face shines out with feline grace, exults, a tiger in the toils! They shall not hold your passion in: fling, fling your lips, my murderess, On mine that I may pass away, a vapour that your passi…
1907 · PDF PAGE 62
ACROBATES Y little lady light o’ limb Twirls on her lover's twisting toes. Lithe as a lynx, red as a rose, She spins aloft and laughs at him. So gay the pose, so quaint the whim, One stares and stares: it grows and grows. So swift the air she seems to skim One’s senses dazzle; wonder glows Warm in one’s veins like love—who knows? One follows till one’s eyes are dim My little lady light o’ limb. 38
1907 · PDF PAGE 40
…old more arcane matters in their mild Cabochon eyes than men are ware of yet. Therefore have poets, lest they should forget, Likened the little sages unto kings. But look! the baby whispers—hush! Nay! nay! We shall disturb them loving—come away! 24
1907 · PDF PAGE 45
L'AMOUR QUI PASSE OVE comes to flit, a spark of steel Struck on the flint of youth and wit; Ay, little maid, for woe or weal, Love comes to flit. Hermes one whisper thrills. Admit! Kupris one smile aims—do you feel? Eros one. arrow—has he hit? Why do you sit there immobile? A spark extinct is not relit. Beyond resource, above appeal, Love comes to flit. 25
1907 · PDF PAGE 25
…ring free, The calm great courage of new art, refined In nervous majesty, indwells behind The beauty of each radiant harmony. Titan! the little centuries drop back, Back from the contemplation. Stand and span With one great grip his cup, the Zodiac! Distil from all time’s art his wine, the truth! Drink, drink the mighty health—an age’s youth— Salut, Auguste Rodin! Here is a man. 11
1907 · PDF PAGE 97
…et nobly wrought. The shrine is grand; the god is ravished thence. On clawing hands and hardened knees the King Exists, no more; is it a little thing? King Demos, hear my parable! We pass, We poets, see you grovel at our feet, Despise our love, and tender flesh, and wheat, Clamour for lust, and carrion, and grass. 61
1907 · PDF PAGE 63
…what toward that sensuous glow of gold. All this is folly. Rodin made him so, Evoked the strength, the goodliness, the glow. The form is little: in the mind there dwells Force to avail the childish heart that swells With aught that is. The golden prime is past— Aye! but a nobler gain is ours at last Who see man weary, but within our span The perfect promise of the overman. oo
1907 · PDF PAGE 21
…ntended compliment that my poems on Rodin were from myself and not from him, and that any other statues would have done as well. I am as little susceptible to flattery as I am to the venomous dicta of spite and envy, and I resent that when I see it employed as the medium for this. Without your compliment, M. D , | might have left you to crawl on, lord of your own muck-heap; with it, I take this opportunity of stamping on you. Notr.—I had intended to include reproductions of photographs of those few statues which I have written upon; but I prefe…