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…nly the clear green within the sea— Because that rolls all landless from Japan. I did not know until I missed it here How beautiful that beauty is to me, That life that bears Death’s sigil traced too clear, Blue lines within the beauty that is man. (I) Line 4 cannot with any certainty be deciphered. 13
…ttered my bosom’s window from the sun, Kindled a corpse-light and proclaimed “ The day ! ”; Lurked in Aeaean fens to elude the ray Whose beauty might disturb me : I did shun The onyx eyes that saw me not as one Possible even for a moment’s play. Thus I was tangled in some house of hell, Giving mine own soul’s beauty up to lust, Hoping to build some fort impregnable Against my love : instead the deep disgust Of my own beasthood crushed it into dust, And left my manhood twisted in her spell. 23
…mand not, seeing it is written (almost literally so) in blood ; for I am sure that he was dying of that love for Alice, whose marvellous beauty it was his mission (who may doubt it ?) to reveal. For the burning torch of truth may smoke, but it is our one sure light in passion and distress. The jewelled silence of the star is, indeed, the light of a serener art ; but love is human, and I give nothing for the tawdry gems of style when the breast they would adorn is that of a breathing, living beauty of man’s love, the heart of all the world. Nor …
…ned leaves of my love’s blown rose, Seek her in spirit, and commune, and wait Her freedom and the rapture to enclose In my own house her beauty intimate. I am a fool, tossing a coin with Fate. 93
THE THIRTY-NINTH DAY “ Had I not eyes but ears, my ears would love That inward beauty and invisible.” Venus and Adonis. Note from this day no possible event. All secrets told, and all desires fulfilled, Primitive passion of our soul have killed. We dwell within a calmer element Perfectly pure and perfectly content. The subtler splendour of our love has stilled Those sombre glories that it never meant, Those giant meanings that it never meant. Fire only is our substance ; there we dwell, The Salamandrine with the Salamander. No fuel to crack, no…
…ved that loved not at first sight ? ” As You Like It. The waving surf shone from the Peaceful Sea. Young palms embowered the house where Beauty sate Still but exultant, silent but elate In its own happiness and majesty Of a mild soul unstirred by rivalry Of any life beyond its own sweet state. I looked around me, wondered whether Fate Had found at last a woman’s love for me. I had no hope : she was so grave and calm, So shining with the dew-light of her soul, So beautiful beyond a woman’s share. Yet—here ! Soft airs, and perfume through the pal…
THE THIRTY-EIGHTH DAY “ The carcass of a beauty spent and done.” Lover’s Complaint. One day from landing. Kamakura sees Pass to the might shrine and shape of bronze Me, pilgrim, murmuring pious orisons, Taking my refuge in that House of Peace, And after, sees my love, and doth not please. She was too young to know that shrine the Son’s, Or see the Virgin’s House in Kwan-se-on’s ; And when I told her, flushed, and bade me cease. I ceased indeed ! All hope of mental flower She shattered in five minutes : following lust, All intellectual communing…
…ke Madonnas, meeting, Fear and draw back and gaze a little space ; Fear, lest they lose the moonlight frail and fleeting, Lose their own beauty in their own embrace, But feel how gladdening hearts and bosoms beating Kindle the face . . . . . . . . But not for long shall lilies strive with roses, Nor fear be fearful, nor delight repose, Nor love retire ; the woodland cleaves and closes Round heads an aureole hides, a rainbow shows. A swifter shape of fire cleaves us, encloses Rosebud and rose. . . . . . . . Mouth unto mouth ! O fairest ! Mutely …
…ee In the drawn face and haggard eyes what vast Voices of misery had held her fast, And made her curse her own lock’s cruelty. So by her beauty and my love we swore, And by the light within mine eyes, by her Sweet shame : that never so we sunder again. But she : “ You swear ‘ by thy bright face ’ in vain ; ‘ By thy sweet self ’ you grow a perjurer ; Who have shamed my face and made me but an whore.” 73
…n torpor. I unrolled the manuscript and read. Brutal truth-telling humour, at times perhaps too Rabelaisian ; lyrics, some of enchanting beauty, others painfully imitative ; sonnets of exceedingly unequal power, a perfectly heartless introduction (some fools would call it pathetic), and, as a synthesis of the whole, an impression of profound sadness and, perhaps, still deeper joy, were my reward. Together with a feeling that the writer must have been a philosopher of the widest and deepest learning and penetration, and a regret that he showed n…
…big with the scent of joss-sticks smouldering in a saucer before a little bronze Buddha-rupa, lay a man, still young, the traces of rare beauty in his face, though worn with suffering and horrid with a week’s growth of beard. He was murmuring over to himself some words which I could not catch, but my entrance, though he did not notice me, seemed to rouse him a little. iv