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Page 1 of 11903 · PDF PAGE 67
…eep ourselves apart : Mouth unto mouth, heart unto heart, Thus ever, never otherwise. The soul is out of me, and swings In desperate and strange surmise About the inmost heart of things. This is all strange : but is not life, Death, all, most strange, not to be told, Not to be understood by strife Of brain, nor bought for gleaming gold, Nor known by aught but love? And love Far from resolving soul to sense, Stands isolated and above Immaculate, alone, intense, Concentrate on itself. But should The lesser leave me, as it might ; The lesser never…
1903 · PDF PAGE 32
Here is the mechanism strange (But perfectly correct) to change My normal calm—seraphic dew! Into an ardent love for you. 30
1903 · PDF PAGE 83
…ce (Since God's responsible) to—mutter In gutter, pay your tithe to vice Since virtue kicks you down its stairs. So thus I clothed it in strange word To catch you thinking unawares. ‘Think? do you think? ‘Then, thinks a bird. Read your Descartes! Nietzsche demurred ?
1903 · PDF PAGE 45
…ve sparks about her limbs. Her spirit shields me, and bedims My sight: she needs me: I need her. She is mine: she calls me: sob and stir Strange pulses of old passionate Imperial ecstacies of fate. Destiny ; manhood; fear; delight; Desire; accomplishment; ere night Dipped her pale plumes to greet the sun She was not ; all is past and done. A dream? I wake from blissful sleep, But is it real? Well, I keep An accidental souvenir Whence thus to chronicle small beer; There is the garter. Launched our boat, The stately pinnace once afloat, 43
1903 · PDF PAGE 91
…s ‘Soldierin’ But. by J.A.N. There are the true drum-beat, the true fife-note, the tightening of the tension of the fighting hour, “fein strange that anybody with an ear for poetry could tolerate the last line.” «Aero worshipper.” vce W, B. Yeats and the author of ‘The Soul of Osiris ‘rAcloted mas of wifal emotional symbols.” wtA Wind of middle-class Swinbume at second hand . . . a windbag foaming at he ‘eouh the morbid unpleasantness of Mr Crowley's taste... a drama of incest, hey and violently treated. Some ofthe shorter poems are worse.” “WA…
1903 · PDF PAGE 70
Whither, we know not. But we know That if our joy were always so We might not know it. Strange indeed This earth where all is paradox, Pushed to the truth: what lies succeed When every truth essential mocks Its truth in figure of a phrase? How should I care for this, and tire Body by will to sing thy praise, Who take this lute, throw down the lyre As I have done to-day, to win No guerdon differing from the toil, Were that accomplished : pain and sin Are needed for the counterfoil Of joy and love: if only so All men had these in keen excess Thos…