No More Learning

Out of the dark I return
And the dust of desire;
My ears are still filled with the shrieks
Of the pitiful Dead and my cheeks
Still pale with the paleness of Hades.

Out of the dark I return
For the day, for the deed;
And now to Apollo, the slayer,
I stand and utter a prayer
Humbly, first making obeisance.




STORIES IN VERSE.




Adeimantus.


The dream of Adeimantus
Who carved for a Grecian Prince
Statues of perfect marble,
Fairer than all things since,
Wonderful, white, and gracious
Like lotus flowers on a mere,
Or phantoms born of the moonbeam,
Beyond all praise but a tear.
The dream of Adeimantus
(As he lay upon his bed),
Wonderful, white, and gracious,
And this was the word it said.
"Arise! oh! Adeimantus,
The breath of the dawn blows chill,
The stars begin to fade
Ere the first ray strikes the sill.
Arise! oh! Adeimantus
For here is work to your hand,
If the fingers fashion the dream
As the soul can understand. "
He rose from his troubled bed
Ere the dream had faded away,
And he said, "I will fashion the dream
As the potter fashions the clay. "
He said in his great heart's vanity,
"I will fashion a wondrous thing
To stand in a palace of onyx
And blind the eyes of a king. "
He said in the pride of his soul
As the birds began to sing,
"I will surely take no rest
Till I fashion this wondrous thing.
I will swear an oath to eschew
The white wine and the red,
To eat no delicate meats
Nor break the fair, white bread.
I will not walk in the city
But labour here alone
In the dew and the dusk and the flush
Till the vision smiles from the stone. "
Six days he wrought at the marble,
But cunning had left his hand,
And his fingers would not fashion
What his soul could understand.
Six days he fasted and travailed,
Hard was the watch to keep,
So the chisel fell from his fingers
And he sank with a sob to sleep.
But a vision came to his slumber
Beautiful as before,
Floating in with the moonbeam
Gliding over the floor.
It floated in with the moonbeam
And stood beside his bed,
Wonderful, white, and gracious,
And this was the word it said.
"Courage, oh! Adeimantus,
I am the perfect thing
To stand in a shrine of jasper
And blind the eyes of a king.
I am the strange desire,
The glory beyond the dream,
The passion above the song,
The spirit-light of the gleam.
I come to my best beloved,
Not actual, from afar,
Fairer than hope or thought,
More beautiful than a star.
Courage, oh! Adeimantus,
Lay strength and strength to your soul.
You shall fashion surely a part
Tho' you may not grasp the whole. "




Pygmalion.


Once . .