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Page 1 of 11905 · PDF PAGE 6
Rose of the World ! Red glory of the secret heart of Love ! Red flame, rose-red, most subtly curled Into its own infinite flower, all flowers above ! Its flower in its own perfumed passion, Its faint sweet passion, folded and furled In flower fashion ; And my deep spirit taking its pure part Of that voluptuous heart Of hidden happiness ! Arise, strong bow of the young child Eros ! (While the maddening moonlight, the memoried caress Stolen of the scented rose Stirs me and bids each racing pulse ache, ache !) Bend into an agony of art Whose cry i…
1905 · PDF PAGE 14
…Far from the central pearl Of all the diadem of the universe ? Let God take pen, rehearse Dull nursery tales ; then, not before, O rose, Red rose ! shall the belovd of thee, Infinite rose ! pen puerile poetry That turns in writing to vile prose. Were this the quintessential plume of Keats And Shelley and Swinburne and Verlaine, Could I outsoar them, all their lyric feats, Excel their utterance vain With one convincing rapture, beat them hollow As an asss skin ; wert thou, Apollo, Mere slave to me, not Lord thy fieriest flight And stateliest…
1905 · PDF PAGE 13
…be The mutiny of some worms misery, Some chained despair knotted into my flesh, Some chance companion, some soul damned afresh Since my redemption, that is vocal at all ; For I am wrapt away from light and call In the sweet heart of the red rose. My spirit only knows This woman and no more ; who would know more ? I, I am concentrate In the unshakable state Of constant rapture. Who should pour His ravings in the air for winds to whirl,