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Page 1 of 11898 · PDF PAGE 7
… MYSTERIES : PERCY. I cannot think at home. VAUGHAN. Why think, if thinking makes you sad? | PERCY. That I may write. I have not long to live, and I must write, write always. FRIEND [aside to Vaughan). Ii me semble qu’il a faim. PERCY. I am hungry for a little love, a little pity. To-night you have shown me your soul, and I am not hungry any more. VAUGHAN. | But, boy, you are starving physically. Come home with me and have some dinner. Only my daughter will be there. PERCY, You are very kind. Thank you. FRIEND [aside]. He is a gentleman. VAUGHA…
1898 · PDF PAGE 12
LYRICAL AND DRAMATIC, 109 PERCY. Esmé, my Esmé. And we will write our poem now together. ESME, I cannot write; we will live our poem now together. PERCY. Dear heart, dear heart! And she will give us light, our dear moon out yonder, always a pure cold light: and our life shall answer a purer, warmer flame. She is like a maiden covered with lilies; your lilies have kissed roses, ESME. And when the moon’s light fails, the light of your song. PERCY. Let that light be drawn from Heaven too. ESME. Oh, Percy, I am so glad, so glad ! PERCY. Esmé ! ESME…
1898 · PDF PAGE 19
…oem it was! One could hear, above the angels that sang, the voice of God in that awful music that made his lines quiver and shimmer like live coals. And the end was to have been so perfect: there was on the last passage of his work a hush, a silence almost as if the world—his world—awaited the voice of some great one. And now the silence is not broken. Perhaps men were not ready for those final chords. Perhaps to hear them would be to pass where he has passed! But oh! the pity! To leave his greatest task undone! To be stricken down in the last …