Betrayal

Though nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty’s murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.

But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a heart of stone
I have attempted many things
And not a thing is done,
For every hand is lunatic
That travels on the moon.

She smiled and that transfigured me
And left me but a lout,
Maundering here, and maundering there,
Emptier of thought
Than the heavenly circuit of its stars
When the moon sails out.

There are not leaders to lead us to honour, and yet without leaders we sally,
Each man reporting for duty alone, out of sight, out of reach, of his fellow.
There are no bugles to call the battalions, and yet without bugle we rally
From the ends of the earth to the ends of the earth, to follow the Standard of Yellow!
Fall in! O fall in! O fall in!


Not where the squadrons mass,
Not where the bayonets shine,
Not where the big shell shout as they pass
Over the firing-line;
Not where the wounded are,
Not where the nations die,
Killed in the cleanly game of war,
That is no place for a spy!
O Princes, Thrones and Powers, your work is less than ours,
Here is no place for a spy!

Trained to another use,
We march with colours furled,
Only concerned...

O city of the world, with sacred splendor blest,
My spirit yearns to thee from out the far-off West,
A stream of love wells forth when I recall thy day,
Now is thy temple waste, thy glory passed away.
Had I an eagle's wings, straight would I fly to thee,
Moisten thy holy dust with wet cheeks streaming free.
Oh, how I long for thee! albeit thy King has gone,
Albeit where balm once flowed, the serpent dwells alone.
Could I but kiss thy dust, so would I fain expire,
As sweet as honey then, my passion, my desire!

Abul Hassan Judah Ben Ha-Levi. (Born Between 1080-90.)

May is back, and You and I
Are at the stream again -
The leaves are out,
And all about
The building birds begin
To make a merry din:
May is back, and You and I
Are at the dream again.

May is back, and You and I
Lie in the grass again, -
The butterfly
Flits painted by,
The bee brings sudden fear,
Like people talking near;
May is back, and You and I
Are lad and lass again.

May is back, and You and I
Are heart to heart again, -
In God's green house
We make our vows
Of summer love that stays
Faithful through winter days;
May is back, and You and I
Shall never part again.

By the bodies and minds and souls that rot in a common sty
In the city’s offal-holes, where the dregs of its horrors lie;
By the prayers that bubble out, but never ascend to God,
We swear the tyrants of earth to rout with tongue and with pen and sword!

By the child that sees the light where the pestilent air stagnates,
And the woman worn and white who under the street-lamp waits;
By the horror of vice that thrives in the dens of the wretched poor,
We swear to strike when the time arrives for all that is good and pure.

By the rights that were always ours, the rights that we ne’er enjoyed,
And the gloomy cloud that lowers on the brows of the unemployed;
By the struggling mothers and wives and the girls on the streets of sin,
We swear to strike when the time arrives, for our ...

We look up to the stars tonight,
    Idolatrous of them,
And dream that Heaven is in sight,
And each a ray of purest light
    From some celestial gem
    In her bright diadem.

Before that lonely home we wait,
    Ah! nevermore to see
Her lovely form within the gate
Where heart and hearthstone desolate
    And vine and shrub and tree
    Seem asking: "Where is she?"

There is the cottage Love had planned -
    Where hope in ashes lies -
A tower beautiful to stand,
Her monument whose gentle hand
    And presence in the skies
    Make home of Paradise.

In wintry bleakness nature glows
    Beneath the stellar ray;
We see the mold, but not the rose,
And meditate if knowledge goes
    Into yon mound of clay,
    W...

In Tuscany.


    Dost thou remember, friend of vanish'd days,
    How in the golden land of love and song,
    We met in April in the crowded ways
    Of that fair city where the soul is strong,
    Aye! strong as fate, for good or evil praise?
    And how the lord whom all the world obeys, -
    The lord of light to whom the stars belong, -
    Illumed the track that led thee through the throng?
    Dost thou remember, in the wooded dale,
    Beyond the town of Dante the Divine,
    How all the air was flooded as with wine?
    And how the lark, to dro...

After their courteous greetings joyfully
Sev'n times exchang'd, Sordello backward drew
Exclaiming, "Who are ye?" "Before this mount
By spirits worthy of ascent to God
Was sought, my bones had by Octavius' care
Been buried. I am Virgil, for no sin
Depriv'd of heav'n, except for lack of faith."

So answer'd him in few my gentle guide.

As one, who aught before him suddenly
Beholding, whence his wonder riseth, cries
"It is yet is not," wav'ring in belief;
Such he appear'd; then downward bent his eyes,
And drawing near with reverential step,
Caught him, where of mean estate might clasp
His lord. "Glory of Latium!" he exclaim'd,
"In whom our tongue its utmost power display'd!
Boast of my honor'd birth-place! what desert
Of mine, what favour rather un...

Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold,
Takes any man to bed:
"You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said;
"You knew Nell Barnes - she's dead.

"Nell Barnes was bad on all you men,
Unclean, a thief as well;
Yet all my life I have not found
A better friend than Nell.

"So I sat at her side at last,
For hours, till she was dead;
And yet she had no sense at all
Of any word I said.

"For all her cry but came to this -
'Not for the world! Take care:
Don't touch that bird of paradise,
Perched on the bed-post there!'

"I asked her would she like some grapes,
Some damsons ripe and sweet;
A custard made with new-laid eggs,
Or tender fowl to eat.

"I promised I would follow her,
To see her in her grave;
And buy a wr...

"Come, surly fellow, come!    A song!"
    What, madmen?    Sing to you?
Choose from the clouded tales of wrong
    And terror I bring to you.

Of a night so torn with cries,
    Honest men sleeping
Start awake with glaring eyes,
    Bone-chilled, flesh creeping.

Of spirits in the web hung room
    Up above the stable,
Groans, knockings in the gloom,
    The dancing table.

Of demons in the dry well
    That cheep and mutter,
Clanging of an unseen bell,
    Blood choking the gutter.

Of lust frightful, past belief,
    Lurking unforgotten,
Unrestrainable endless grief
    From breasts long rotten.

A song?    What laughter or what song
    Can this house remember?
Do flowers and butterflies belong
  ...

We tightened stirrup; buckled rein;
Looked to our saddle-girths again;
Shook hands all round; then mounted.
The gate swung wide: we said, "Good-bye."
No time for talk had Bell and I.
One cried, "God speed!" another, "Fly!"
As out we rode to do or die,
And every minute counted.
The trail, the buffaloes had worn,
Stretched broad before us through the corn
And cane with which it blended.
We knew for miles around the gate
Hid Indian guile and Tory hate.
There was no time to hesitate.
We galloped on. We spurred like Fate,
As morn broke red and splendid.
No rifle cracked. No arrow whirred.
Above us piped a forest bird,
Then two and three together.
We 'd reached the woods. And still no shout
Of all the wild Wyandotte rout
And Shawanese had ye...

I have become very hairy all over my body.
I'm afraid they'll start hunting me because of my fur.

My multicolored shirt has no meaning of love,
it looks like an air photo of a railway station.

At night my body is open and awake under the blanket,
like eyes under the blindfold of someone to be shot.

Restless I shall wander about;
hungry for life I'll die.

Yet I wanted to be calm, like a mound with all its cities destroyed,
and tranquil, like a full cemetery.

Oh weary, weary world! how full thou art
    Of sin, of sorrow, and all evil things!
In thy fierce turmoil, where shall the sad heart,
    Released from pain, fold its unrested wings?
Peace hath no dwelling here, but evermore
Loud discord, strife, and envy, fill the earth
With fearful riot, whilst unhallowed mirth
Shrieks frantic laughter forth, leading along,
Whirling in dizzy trance the eager throng,
Who bear aloft the overflowing cup,
With tears, forbidden joys, and blood filled up,
Quaffing long draughts of death; in lawless might,
Drunk with soft harmonies, and dazzling light,
So rush they down to the eternal night.

    I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream
    That leads with illusion the senses astray,
    And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream,
    While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,
    Rejoice in my light, ere it fade fast away!

    We left the loud rocking of ocean behind,
    And stealing along the clear current serene,
    The Phædria[1] spread her white sails to the wind,
    And they who divided had many a day been,
    Gazed with added delight on the charms of the scene.

    Each bosom one spirit of peace seemed to feel;
    We heard not the tossing, the stir, and the roar
    Of the ocean without; we heard only the keel,
    The keel that went whispering along the green shore,
    And the stroke, as it dipp...

    O woman full of wiliness!
        Although for love of me you pine,
    Withhold your hand adventurous,
        It holdeth nothing holding mine.

    Look on my head, how it is grey!
        My body's weakness doth appear;
    My blood is chill and thin; my day
        Is done, and there is nothing here.

    Do not call me a foolish man,
        Nor lean your lovely cheek to mine
    O slender witch, our bodies can
        Not mingle now, nor any time.

    So take your mouth from mine, your hand
        From mine, ah, take your lips away!
    Lest heat to will should ripen, and
        All this be grave that had been gay.

    It is this curl, a silken nest,
        And this grey eye bright as the dew,
    And this round, lo...

Oh yet we trust that somehow good
Will be the final goal of ill,
To pangs of nature, sins of will,
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood;

That nothing walks with aimless feet;
That not one life will be destroy’d,
Or cast as rubbish to the void,
When God hath made the pile complete;

That not a worm is cloven in vain;
That not a moth with vain desire
Is shrivell’d in a fruitless fire,
Or but subserves another gain.

Behold, we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last, far off, at last to all,
And every winter change to spring.

So runs my dream; but who am I?
An infant crying in the night;
An infant crying for the light,
And with no language, but a cry.

Bring the bright garlands hither,
    Ere yet a leaf is dying;
If so soon they must wither.
    Ours be their last sweet sighing.
Hark, that low dismal chime!
'Tis the dreary voice of Time.
Oh, bring beauty, bring roses,
    Bring all that yet is ours;
Let life's day, as it closes,
    Shine to the last thro' flowers.

Haste, ere the bowl's declining,
    Drink of it now or never;
Now, while Beauty is shining,
    Love, or she's lost for ever.
Hark! again that dull chime,
'Tis the dreary voice of Time.
Oh, if life be a torrent,
    Down to oblivion going,
Like this cup be its current,
    Bright to the last drop flowing!

    Elenor Murray landing in New York,
    After a weary voyage, none too well,
    Staid in the city for a week and then
    Upon a telegram from Irma Leese,
    Born Irma Fouche, her aunt who lived alone
    This summer in the Fouche house near LeRoy,
    Came west to visit Irma Leese and rest.

    For Elenor Murray had not been herself
    Since that hard spring when in the hospital,
    Caring for soldiers stricken with the flu,
    She took bronchitis, after weeks in bed
    Rose weak and shaky, crept to health again
    Through egg-nogs, easy strolls about Bordeaux.
    And later went to Nice upon a furlough
    To get her strength again.

    But while she saw
    Her vital flame burn brightly, as of old
    On favored days, yet for the ...