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Page 1 of 11939 · PDF PAGE 8
…in sight, Why should we wait till Saturday night? If I havent a house on the Grand Parade, Ill build me a hut of wattle. The corkscrew seems to have got mislaid? Then smash the neck of the bottle! Courage and will and a whack will aid, Though the corkscrew seem to have got mislaid. Anatomists say that a single wing Isnt much for a bird to fly on. Theres not much ginger about the spring Of the fiercest one-legged lion. Another bottles the obvious thing To get the ginger into our spring. Beloved brethren, listen to me! If theres one truth o…
1939 · PDF PAGE 6
…e furnace that melted my loves. Love is not bound to the body, not sparse and adrift with the mind Not secret with soul, though the soul seem one and alone of its kind. The body is naught but a corpse, its growth but a name of decay, A delirious dream of sick godswhere the Shadow hath sway. Concocted of offal and mire, putrescent with cancer of breath, A knot that unravels to naught, a riddle whose answer is Death? The mind is the reek of the fume of the bodys corruption, the mime Of its magotty moods as it rots from its worm-eaten egg to its…
1939 · PDF PAGE 11
…dead I from its Vow, I am wholly content to be dust, whether that be a mote or a star, To live and to love and to lust, acknowledge what seem for what are, Not to care what I am, if I be, whence I came, whither go, how I thrive, If my spirit be bound or be free, save as Nature contrive. What I am, that I am, tis enough. I am part of a glorious game. Am I cast for madness or love? I am cast to esteem them the same. Am I only a dream in the sleep of some butterfly? Phantom of fright Conceived, who knows how, or how deep, in the measureless womb …