No More Learning

Great God, if we be damn'd to be not men but only
dreams,
Then tet us be such dreams the world shall tremble
at
And know we be its rulers though but dreams ! Then let us be such shadows as the world shall
tremble at
And know we be its masters though but shadow !
High God, if men are grown but pale sick
phantoms
That must live only in these mists and tempered
lights
And tremble for dim hours that knock o'er loud
Or tread too violent in passing them; 29
? Revolt Great God, if these thy sons are grown such thin
ephemera,
I bid thee grapple chaos and beget
Some new titanic spawn to pile the hills and stir This earth again.
AND THUS IN NINEVEH
YE! I am a poet and upon my tomb Shall maidens scatter rose leaves
And men myrtles, ere the night Slays day with her dark sword.
"Lo! this thing is not mine
Nor thine to hinder,
For the custom is full old,
And here in Nineveh have I beheld
Many a singer pass and take his place
In those dim halls where no man troubleth
His sleep or song.
And many a one hath sung his songs
More craftily, more subtle-souled than I;
And many a one now doth surpass
My wave-worn beauty with his wind of flowers, Yet am I poet, and upon my tomb
Shall all men scatter rose leaves ere the night Slay light with her blue sword.
"It is not, Raana, that my song rings highest Or more sweet in tone than any, but that I Am here a Poet, that doth drink of life
As lesser men drink wine. "
30
? THE WHITE STAG
HA* seen them mid the clouds on the heather. i Lo! they pause not for love nor for sorrow,
Yet their eyes are as the eyes of a maid to her lover, When the white hart breaks his cover
And the white wind breaks the morn.
"
Bid the world's hounds come to horn!
"
'T is the white stag, Fame, we 're a-hunting,
PICCADILLY
tragical faces, BEAYUeTIthFatUwLe,re whole, and are so sunken;
And, O ye vile, ye that might have been loved, That are so sodden and drunken,
Who hath forgotten you? O wistful, fragile faces, few out of many!
The gross, the coarse, the brazen,
God knows I cannot pity them, perhaps, as I should
do,
But, oh, ye delicate, wistful faces,
Who hath forgotten you?
? EXULTATIONS
? / am an eternal spirit and the things I make are
but ephemera, yet I endure:
Yea, and the little earth crumbles beneath our feet
and we endure.
? TO CARLOS TRACY CHESTER
? NIGHT LITANY
oDIEU, purifiez nos coeurs! Purifiez nos coeurs!
Yea, the lines hast thou laid unto me
in pleasant places, And the beauty of this thy Venice
hast thou shown unto me Until is its loveliness become unto me
a thing of tears.
O God, what great kindness
have we done in times past
and forgotten it,
That thou givest this wonder unto us,
O God of waters?
O God of the night,
What great sorrow
Cometh unto us,
That thou thus repayest us
Before the time of its coming?
O God of silence,
Purifiez nos coeurs,
Purifiez nos coeurs, For we have seen
The glory of the shadow of the likeness of thine handmaid,
Yea, the glory of the shadow of thy Beauty hath walked
37
? Night Upon the shadow of the waters
Litany
In this thy Venice.
And before the holiness
Of the shadow of thy handmaid Have I hidden mine eyes, O God of waters.