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Deem not that prayer or sacrifice Will ever cause the work to end! Serene, sufficient, let it rise Alone; it doth not ask a friend, © Nor shall it bend a fatuous knee To a fantastic deity. What crest or chrism were so good To work as Art, the crown upon Work’s brow? Thy will with love endued Lift up this loftier Parthenon! Thine art the consecrative oil To hallow us the Tower of Toil! 19
… deep Glowing cascades of hair; she combs her hair With subtle ecstasy, electric sweep Of unimaginable joy; let life and death Pass; she will comb, and comb, and will not care. 06
…maw Swift crunched, to expiate my eldest law? Better, far better thus. True love lies flat, A weary plain beyond the single peak. I then will pity them. I will not speak. 64
…y, ready to be hanged. They go (Forlorn ones!) against Calais’ overthrow; And all their fate in Calais’ is involved Unto the utmost. Who will save his folk From vengeful ire of the tyrant? Six are these, Perfectly sad, and steady, and at ease. Self-slain, they shall save others from the yoke. Seven then are these found faithful unto death; From Calais six; and one from Nazareth. 29
…nvisible Guard —anything in reason? These are only ways of looking at one idea, and as you are theologian, poet, lover or mystic, so you will choose. And it is the Master’s merit, not his fault, if his conception is so broad-based as to admit of different interpretations. The p&nomenon is possible because Rodin is the master and not the slave of his colossal technique. The difficulty of naming a masterpiece is perhaps harder work than producing it, and Rodin being a sculptor and not an illicit epigram distiller, is perfectly justified in pickin…
…f rib-punchers, claret-tappers, etc.,etc.,recentlyreceived one of these missiles in the eye, my attention was called to the disturber: I will now do my part as a law-abiding citizen and take my boot to the offender, as a warning to him and all of his kidney. I shall not mention his name: that he would enjoy: that is perhaps what he hoped. I will merely state that he is one of those unwashen and oleaginous individuals who are a kind of Mérodack-Jauneau without the Mérodack, ie., without the gleam of intention in their work which to the lay mind …
…‘“ Restore, | O Father Zeus, this tender life once more!” Falls the baulked hope of half a million years. She in her gloom and ignorance will go Forlorn to Paphos, wrapt in urgent woe, Her hair funereal swathing her fallen form, Its wind-swept horror holding him; his white Torn body blushing through tempestuous night. So breaks the life in hell, the year in storm. 62
…-set shiverings saint nor sage discerns ? Laughter and love are over him, entice His life to sweeter scent of sacrifice. She knows God’s will, not he! Her ardour licks Flowers from the dust. O fool! that, heavy of breath, Dost rot in worship at the shrine of death! O mystic rapture of the crucifix! 08
… deformed debauchery,? Grins from the image. Let posterity From Rodin’s art guess Mirbeau’s heart, extol The lethal chamber men ere then will find For the pimp’s pen and the corrupted mind. 1 Le jardin des supplices, par Octave Mirbeau. 2 Les mémoires d’une femme de chambre, par Octave Mirbeau. 65 K
…of labour, The bodily strength, the manual skill; They shape the anvil and the sabre, The ploughshare and the bolt; they fill The myriad will of brains that boil: Their fame be thine, O Tower of Toil! 16
…r and a dark night to rid them of this dreamer Joseph. In the case of the success, in the heavy weights, of the Meudon Chicken (M. Rodin will forgive us for the lengths to which we carry our analogy), envy has given up hope even of sandbags, and is now engaged in the ridiculous task of attempting to disconcert the eye of the Fancy Boy by flipping paper pellets at him across the arena. They do not reach him, it is true: but as I, who happen to be sitting in a back row, admiring the 3
…yr in thy locks I'll wreathe, For ever. Who would have believed, have thought The breeze entwined. of this? Outside is nothing. Let what will uproll, Within all’s certain. Are we not aware | (Who see the hand) what brain must know—and care? What wisdom formed the racers, find a goal? Careless and confident, let us love on. Life, one or many, rises from a seed, Sprouts, blooms, bears fruit, and then is gone—is gone. Let go the future, ominous and vast! Loose the bound mind from the unavailing past! Live, love for ever, now, in every deed! ol