RODIN IN RIME

1907 AUTHORS NOTE AUGUSTE RODIN AND THE NOMENCLATURE OF HIS WORKS

A STUDY IN SPITE like that of Planchette : or if William Horton were vocal— But Heaven forbid ! WEN illegitimate criticism is met with a What he said, though parrot-talk, caught smart swing on the point of the jaw, and has wp in some fifth-rate sculptor's studio, no subsided into an unpleasant and unpitiful doubt, had so much truth in it, carefully heap; when its high-well-born brother has concealed by the lying misinterpretation he shaken hands—not without many years of had put on that, as I said, the pellet hit friendly sparring—with the new pugilist, all me. Thisit,was what it came to. Rodin's his family are very disappointed, for Society works, it is said, mean nothing. He makes takes no notice of them its (to them un- a study : people see it in his studio: A. goes seemly) adulation of theinrising star. Their up and says to the Master: ‘Ah, how unfraternal feeling may even lead them to beautiful,” &c., ad nauseam —* I suppose is * it employ a sandbagger and dark nightto rid Earth and the Spring?" B. follows, and them this dreamer Joseph.a suggests '* Hercules and Cacus"; C. thinks of * In the case of thé success, in the heavy «The Birth of a Flower? ; D. calls it De- weights, of the Meudon Chicken (M. Rodin spair?; E. varies it with ** Moses breaking will forgive us for the lengths to which we ‘ables of the Law”; F. cocks his eye carry our analogy), envy has given up hope warily, and asks if it is not meant for “ Mary even of sandbags, and is now engaged in the Magdalene”; G. votes for “The Beetle- ridiculous task of attempting to disconcert Crusher and’ his Muse,” and so on, day the eye of the. Fancy Boy by flipping paper after day, till Z. comes round and recognises pellets at him across the arena. They do it for Balzac. Rodin shakes him warmly by not reach him, it is true: but as I, who both hands : Balzac it is for all time—and happen to be sitting in a back row, admiring one ceases to wonder that it was rejected | the clean, scientificsequences of rib-punchers, ‘Now, of course, this paper pellet is in any claret-tappers, &c, &c, recently received case very wide ofits mark, Rodin can easily one of these missiles in the eye, my attention sculp himself a tabernacle and go in with was called to the disturber. I will now do Whistler—and even drag in Velasquez; but my part as a law-abiding citizen and take here am illustrating, however feebly, the my boot to the offender, as a warning to him Works, in Poetry: and poetry cannot, un- and all of his kidney. I shall not mention fortunately, ever be pure technique. I have his name: that he would enjoy: that is long wished to write “A Sonnet in W. and perhaps what he hoped. I will merely state P." (with Whip as the keynote); a triolet in that he is one of those unwashen and oleagi- UU. and K. ; an ode in S. Sh. Sw. Sp. and nous individuals who are a kind of Mérodack- Str.—and so on; but people would merely Jauneau without the Mérodack, £.e., without say "Nonsense Verses" (so they do now, the gleam of intention in their work whichto some of them !). So that my work is liable the lay mind redeems even the most grotesque to the most vital misinterpretation. My best imbecility of technique, andthe most fatuous friend tells the utterly false, utterly funny ignorance of all subjects connected or un- story about me that I wrote one sonnet for connected with art. By philosophy he under- ** L'Ange déchu" and another for ‘Icare.” stands “Science and Health”: by poetry The real heart of the attack is, of course, Lake Harris or Eric Mackay: he expects a against Rodin's intention, and it is my object painting to tell a pretty story or to upset a to show what rubbish it is, even granting the metaphysical position. His conversation is literary basis of criticism to be valid. I am I199 110 RODIN IN RIME

given to understand that something of the sort one ignores laughingly the attack of tiny and described above does sometimes take place in infuriated puppies ; but there are insects so the naming a statue (of the allegorical de- loathsome, so incredibly disgusting, worms scription especially),of But that is a question whose sight is such an abomination, whose of felicity, of epigram ; never of subject. stink is 50 crapulous and purulent, that, In “La Main de Dieu,” for example, the ignoring their malignity, but simply aware of meaning is obvious, and notto be wrested or their detestable presence, the heel is ground distorted. What does it matter if we call it down in one generous impulse, and the slimy as at present, or thing is no more. Decomposition, already (a) The Hand of Creation, far advanced, may be trusted speedily to (ὁ) The First Lovers, resolve the remains into the ultimate dust of (c) The Security of Love, things, mere matter for some new and hope- (d) The invisible Guard fuller avatar. —anything in reason? These are only ways Such a worm are you, M. D—, who of looking at one idea, and as you are theolo- once, as above described, voided your noxious gian, poet, lover or mystic, so you will choose. nastiness in my presence, trusting to con- And is the Master's merit, not his fault, if ciliate me by the intended compliment that his itconception is so broad-based as to admit. my poems on Rodin were from myself and of different interpretations. The phenomenon not from him, and that any other statues is possible because Rodin is the master and would have done as well. not the slave of his colossal technique. The Iam aslittle susceptible to flattery as I am naming of a masterpiece is perhaps harder to the venomousdicta of spite and envy, and work than the producing it, and Rodin being I resent that when I see it employed as the a sculptor and not an illicit epigram distiller, medium for this, Without your compliment, is perfectly justified in picking up what he can M. D—, might have left you to crawl on, from the witty and gifted people who throng lord of yourI own muck-heap ; with it, I take his studio as muchashewill let them. this opportunity of stamping on you, Let there be an end, then, not to the sordid and snarling jealousy which greatness Nore.—Ihad intended 1to include reproduc. must inevitably excite, not to the simian tions of photographs of those few statues which tooth-grindings which must always accom- I have written upon; but I prefer to pay my readers the compliment of supposing that they pany the entrance of a man into the jungle, this senseless and possess the originals in either bronze or but to peculiarly sidelong marble, attack. One accepts the lion as a worthy

with 2 antagonist; one can enjoy playing a e, in the large first edition, which con- fine dog; one can sympathise with sincere| tains seven of M. Rodin's water-colours. Vide and honourable labour, though it be in vain; Bibliographical Note.

RODIN IN RIME

FRONTISPIECE Titan ! the little centuries drop back, RODIN. Back from the contemplation, Stand and Here isa man! For all the world to see span His work stands, shaming Nature. With one great gripuuhis cup, the Zo- Clutched, combined diac! . | 0-0 In the sole still centre of a master-mind, Distil from all time’s art his wine, the —The Egyptian the Greek simplicity, truth force, . The Celtic subtlety. Through suffering free, Drink, drink! the mighty health—an age's The calm great courage of newart,refined| youth— In nervous majesty, indwells behind Salut, Auguste Rodin! Here is a |The beauty of each radiant harmony. man, VARIOUS MEASURES

VARIOUS MEASURES

THE TOWER OF TOIL. Above be various shapes of labour, ‘The bodily strength, the manual skill ; (LA TOUR DE TRAVAIL.) They shapethe anvil and the sabre, The and the THE sun ; the old earth spins ; ploughshare bolt; they old rolls fill Incessant labour bends thestats. The myriad will of brains boil: Hath not enough of woes andsins that Passed? Who shall efface their senseless Their fame be thine, O Tower of Toil ! scars? One makes, one mars. The eons foil Here set the travailers of land ; Alll purpose rise, O Tower ofToil. Here the young shepherd, fluteless now ; ; ‘The mariner with tarry hand ; Rise in thy radiance to proclaim ‘The clerk, with pale and foolish brow, ‘The alive ! agonyoftheearth Hiss brain bought cheap for brainless grind : Stand by the a marble flame, sea, ‘The bloodless martyr of the mind ! lighthouse wedded to an hive! Still upward strive! O tower, arise Grow up O An endless spiral to the skies ! the grades, godlike hand, Rodin, most rightly named “ August”! Stand on the weather-beaten coast Thy splendid sons and daughters stand “ A flaming angel in the noon ; Obedient to the master must.” A silver, fascinated ghost. The decadent dust thy spells assoil ; In midnight's revel with the moon ; Death lives in this, thy Tower of Toil. In silent swoon be still ! the spoil Of © Tower of Toil. years is thine, Grow up the grades! record the tasks ‘These arduous phantoms have achieved! Let day, a glowing vigour, male ; The growth of mind mortals asks And a virgin bowed and curled, to night, A power not swift to be believed. Stand the foot; their ardours pale at What bosoms heaved ere Nature’s age Systole and diastole of the world ! From monkey-man deduced the sage ! With life impearled (their eyes absorb) ‘They visibly sustain the orb. So be thy spiral tower the type ‘Then let the tower in seven tiers Of higher convolutions drawn Rise in its splendour marmorean, From hunger’s woe and murder’s gripe Unite the chill divided years And lust’s revulsion to the dawn In of plain perception the seon. Of days that spawn on holier soil Cry clear the pan! Its tunes recoil Thy loftier sons, O Tower of Toil. About thy flanks, O Tower of Toil. ‘ABelow miners fashioned fair, ‘There a flower ofnative light be is And all that labour in the sea That springs eternal on the earth. Sepulchred from the ambient air, Carve us, O master-hand, aright fatal weird of dole to dree. That ecstasy of pain and mirth, No time to be, no light to live, A baby's birth! That prize of fear AFarth's need to these hath hopeto give. Engrave upon the loftiest tier 1 112 RODIN IN RIME

Nor in the solitary woe O melancholy mother! Sorceress, (The silent, the unwitting strain) No more enchantress | What the harvest Forget the miracles that grow rare In the austerely ordered brain! Sprung from the seed of youth and happiness ? Darwin and Taine, Descartes and Boyle, ‘Age and despair, Inscribe thou on the Tower of Toil ! Those who have striven to limn the mind, Paint, model, tune, or hymn the light, FEMME ACCROUPIE Their vision of the world refined By of superior sight : mastery SwrrT and subtle and thin are the arrows or Honour their might! the gain have these Art: Of all men’s woes and ecstasies ! Istrike through the gold of the skin to the gold of the heart, High ; benediction seek soul no As sit there mighty in bronze I adore the ! you From any spirit but our own twist Crown mighty with the weak! notthe Of miracle ankle gripped by the miracle The be and Throne! the Tower a Tower, not a wrist. In man-carved stone the endless coil I adore the agony-lipped and the tilted head, Arise untopped, the Tower ofToil! And I pay black orisons to the breasts Deem aspread not that prayer or sacrifice Will ever cause the work to end! In multiple mutable motion, whose soul is Serene, sufficient, let it rise hid. And of confused emotion the ‘Alone ; it doth not ask a friend, thetoils Master Nor shall it bend a fatuous knee bid Toa fantastic deity. Lurk in the turn of the torso for poets to see Is hid from the lesser and dull—hidden from. What crest or chrism were so good me. To work as Art, the crown upon She squats, and is void and null ; I know her Work’s brow? Thy will with love endued not; Lift up this loftier Parthenon! As God is above, but more so, she sits, to Thine artthe consecrative oil blot ‘To hallow us the Tower of Toil ! Intelligence out of my brain, conceit from my ken; And class myself, idle and vain, with the LA BELLE HEAULMIERE, Inewspaper men. AGE and despair, poverty and distress Bend down the head that once was blithe and fair. Embattled toward the ancient armouress CARYATIDE Age and despair! SHALL beauty avail thee, Caryatid, crouched, Where is the force of youth? The beauty crushed by the weight of a world of woe ? where? By birthright the burden is thine: on thy "What two-edged memory of some lost shoulders the sorrow hath slid caress From the hand of the Healer: behold, in Lurks in the sorrowful pose and lingers the steady, continuous throe, there? Shall beauty avail thee, Caryatid ? VARIOUS MEASURES 113

‘Thou wast proud of thy beauty; the burden Therefore have poets, lest they should forget, of beauty was hid Likened the little sages unto kings. From thy eyes: how is't now with thee, But look! the baby whispers—hush | Nay! now? By the sweat dropping slow nay! From thebrowsof thy anguish, we see what ‘We shall disturb them loving—come away the weight of it did | Tothe patient despair of the brain, Shall no God strike a blow? L'AMOUR QUI PASSE. Shall no hero be found the unbearable Lov to flit, of steel burden to rid? comes a spark Struck ontheflint of youth and ; And these be extinct— is a fiend that wit if Ay, little maid, for woe or weal, laughs eager and low: Love to ** Shall beauty avail thee, Catyatid 2" comes flit. Hermes one whisper thrills. Admit ! Kupris one smile aims—do you feel? Eros one arrow—has he hit? JEUNE MERE Why do yousit there immobile? SURELY the secret whisper ofsweetlife spark extinct is not relit. Shakes in the shell-ear murmurous memories Beyond resource, above appeal, Of the old wonder ofyoung ecstasies Love comes flit. In the first hours when the white word of to wife She won so hardly outof dark wild strife TETE DE FEMME (MUSEE DU And mystery of peace ; thine utter ease, LUXEMBOURG). Abandoned rapture! Caught and cut by seas Ir shall be said, when all is done, Of sudden wisdom, stinging as a knife The last line written, the last mountain Swift struck sets all the blood a-tingle, Woe! Climbed, the last look upon the sun What wakes within? What holiest intima- ‘Taken, thelast star in the fountain tion Shattered, that you and I were one, Of intimate knowledge the lords of nature ? of What who She sees her fate smile out on her, doth shall they say, come apace know After us, heedless, gallant? Seeing Her weird of womanhood, noble station Our statues, hearing of our race her Heroic tales, half-doubted, Among stars and ages ; and her stature being the So far beyond rime to trace. Soars o'er the system ; so the scarred mis- a feature What shall they say? For secret we Of death avails her for the isolation Have held our love, and holy. Splendour Of high things ever holy ; this the throe Of light, and music of the sea Of swifily-comprehended motherhood ‘And and heart serene and tender, Once her. Now the of the eyes taught whisper With kisses mingled utterly. child Bids her be great, who was supremely good. ‘These were our ways. And who shall know? For, mark you! babes are ware of wiser What warrior bard our nuptial glories things, Shall sing? Historic shall we go And hold more arcane matters in their mild Down through our country's golden stories 2 Cabochon eyes than men are ware ofyet. Shall lovers whisper Even so VOL. ' ג .AIt 11g RODIN IN RIME

As he loved her do I love you? ? On mine that I may pass away, a vapour So much they shall know, surely; never that your passion boils, ‘The truth, how lofty and fresh as dew A rose whose petals flutter down as cruel Our love began, abode for ever: lips and fingers press. They cannot know us through and through. Hear one last careless laugh acclaim my corpse the latest of your spoils, You laughing little light of wickedness. We have exceeded all the past. The future shall not build another. This is the climax, first and last. We stand upon the summit. Mother LES BOURGEOIS DE CALAIS Of ages, daughter of ages, cast PERFECTLY sad and perfectly resolved, They are ready, ready to be hanged. The fatal die, and turn to death ! They go Let evolution turn, involving (Forlorn ones !) against Calais’ overthrow ; As And their fate in Calais’ involved when the gray sun sickeneth— all is Ghostly September so dissolving Unto the utmost. Who will save his folk Into the pale eternal!breath, From vengeful ire of the tyrant? Six are these, Perfectly sad, and steady, and at ease. When all is done,shall this be said. Self-slain, they shall save others from the When all is said, shall this be done, yoke. The con exhaust and finishéd, Seven then are these found faithful unto And slumber steal upon the sun, death ; My dear, when you and I are dead. From Calais six ; and one from Nazareth,

REVEIL D’ADONIS.? LA CASQUE D'OR. ADONIS, awake, it is day; it is spring! A NINA OLIVIER. It is dawn on the lea, it is light on the lake! The fawn’s in the bush and the bird’s on You laughing little light of wickedness, low the wing! ripples round you love and coils Adonis, awake! And twists the Casque of Gold about the child-face with a child-caress. Adonis, awake! We are colour and song Muses O glory of the tangled net! O subtle vase And form, we are most tender to take of scented oils! Thy life up to Art that was lost over long. Adonis, awake! You laughing little light of wickedness ! Adonis, awake! thou hast risen above The fear in the forest, the brute in the brake. Through all the misty wind of light that Thou art sacred to shrines that glamours round you, sorceress, are higher than Love! Your face shines out with feline grace, exults, ! a tiger in the toils! Adonis, awake They shall not hold passion 1 your in: fling, Properly the sequel to Mort d’Adonis on fling your lips, my murderess, p. x22. VARIOUS MEASURES 15

LA MAIN DE DIEU DESESPOIR.

THE Hand. From mystery that is cloud Inothe inmost agony of things control She sees, through glamour of untrusty The mystery that is emptiness of air, sense, Purpose and power. What blossom do ‘The full corruption of omnipotence, they bear? The infinite rage of fishes to have wings, Stability and strength inform—what soul ? The lust of beasts for tentacles; caught thence Corollary, syllogism, she strides tense Turn to me, love! the banks of air are soft. Into the inmost of Turn to me, love! the shies are blue, agony things. Fleeced with the clouds that hang aloft, blossom Buds that may into dew. So, fearless, amid gods and evil kings, She sits, poor wretch, eternal scientist, Turn to me, love | lie close and breathe Straining mild muscles, leaving to its list The smooth waves of the wind ! The spasm-shaken body. 80 she flings The sephyr in thy locks I'll wreathe, The teeth-set fate of Fortune’s face un- The breese entwined, kissed Against the fiat : sets her clenchéd fist Weare so safe; so happy we: In his face : slides spinning with her body's Our love can never falter; fate can never twist. close Into the inmost agony of things. Hard on theflower of land and sea. Lift, O rose petals of my rose, Toward me, vest, dream on, we are here, we love, EPERVIER ET COLOMBE. There is no shadow above, Noghost below : we are here. Kiss! Kiss! Wuen, at the awful Judgment-day, God For ever, Who would have believed, have stands thought of this ? Shrunken and shaking at my gaze, before My hollow seat of agony, it may be Outside is nothing. Let what will uproll, He shall discover me the great excuse Within all’s certain. Are we not aware Foranill world ill shapen by ill hands, (Who see the hand) What brain must know For unit joy and misery ten score, —and care? For all his work’s complaint ; I think that What wisdom formed the racers, find a He, goal ? Twitching his fearful fingers, may let loose This answer: Thus a kiss I brought to being Careless and confident, let us love on. Which by no other way were possible. Measure, O man! Balance with Life, one or many, rises from a seed, eyes true- Sprouts, blooms, bears fruit, and then is seeing f I. were no to have made Hell ! gone—is gone. right or Let go the future, ominous and vast ! Loose the bound mind from the unavailing Then would He stand forgiven —nay past! acquitted ! ! Live, love for ever, now,in every deed ! I, as I look on this tight coil of bliss, 116 ODIN IN RIME

Swift clasp of Rodin’s magical mind love- witted, L'ETERNEL PRINTEMPS. See all creation fade; abide, one kiss. Then to my own soul’s bow this shaft be 1 fitted ; ‘Tue eternal spring is in the heart of youth. Thank God for all, seeing thatall is this ! They are nearest to the secret of the world, These lovers with their lithe white bodies curled RESURRECTION. Into the rhythm of a dance ; the truth Is theirs that feel, not ours that idly see 5 FRom youth and love to sorrow is one stride. ‘Theirs that inhabit, and not ours that flee So to the thinker; to the lover’s self The intimate touch of love and think to Rather glides or swoons the idle elf sleuth it By ‘That plucks a rose, scatters; its petals wide, intellect all the scent of being, whirled Is like the wind, is like the moon-wrought In the wheel of time—roll back, slow years, tide, and be Is most like life : so soft to man, so hard A monument, a memory for me ; Tothe all-gathering brain of a great bard! That I may in their passion have a part, And feel their glory glow within my heart ! Christ answered: Peace to man amid the strife ! 5 I am the Resurrection and the Life. This holy rapture the eternal spring. Let the : see the woman is graves open grip Here in the love that tunes the untrammelled Her love, her gainful fellowship ! goodly feet, See the man, hungry, grasp the willing Here the ardour of arms that cling, bride, in the ‘The alluring amber-touch sweet sweet, Grope through the dark dawn her glow- of to to The awe of new love revealed, ing side! ageless the ‘The reverence of the new love hovering There the resurrection trump: confess is nigh ; The mystery of life is happiness ! ‘These things are mazes flowery on the field, Rodin discerned, We see the eagle-eyed Measures to trace a-dancing by-and-by. Here the statued the rhythm sealed Glory of echoing kisses ; hear the sound in pose is Of giutted raptures break in the profound, That all who are human dance to evermore, Before this all ‘The abyss of time : upsurge the dead. Why ecstasy ages yield: hide Eternity breaks foamless on time’s shore, And because of Thy sorrowful god’s brow, O sculptor, mage, this delight in me, I, in Child of eternity, father of an age? Am one substance with eternity. Thou hast seen, thou hast showed, that as it was onearth So shall it be in resurrection birth. ACROBATES The cycle of weariness and passionate pain Is and was ever and must be again. My little lady light o' limb There is no death! Ah! that is misery ! ‘Twirls on her lover's twisting toes For this, Lord Christ, is it that thou wouldst. Lithe as a lynx, red as a rose, be, She spins aloft and laughs at him, Thouyesterday, to-day, and thou to-morrow? So gay the pose, so quaint the whim, ‘The mystery of this our life is sorrow. One stares and stares: it grows and grows. VARIOUS MEASURES ng So swift the air she seems to skim A solemn rapture holds the faun: an holy One's senses dazzle ; wonder glows joy sucks up the seer "Warm in ones veins like love—who Within its rose-revolving sphere, the orient knows? oval of the dawn. One follows till one's eyes are dim My o' limb. little lady light Light’s graven old cartouche is sealed upon the forest : groves are gray With filtered glamours of the day, the steely ray flung off his shield. L'AGE D'AIRAIN. She kneels, yon spirit of the earth; she FRESH of time, in the savage vigour the kneels and looks toward the east. The golden youth stands in the golden In her gray eyes awakes the beast from prime, slumber into druid mirth, Erect, acute, astrain. We look and long For those bronze lips to blossom into song. She is amazed, she eager, she, exotic orchid He is silent. We reflect. Ourselves grown of the glade ! old She waits the ripe, exultant blade, life Yearn somewhat toward that sensuous glow tempered eternity. of gold. by

And I who witness am possessed by awe All this is folly. Rodin made him so, grown crimson with desire, the Evoked strength, the goodliness, the Its iron image wrapped fire and branded low. in idly on my breast. The form little: in the mind there dwells Force toisavail the childish heart that swells Her face is bronze, her skin is as With aught that is. The golden prime green, is woods and suns would have so. past— it Her wonders and glow, limned Aye! but a nobler gain is ours at last secret grow .in the luminous patine. Who see man weary, but within our span The perfect promise of the overman. Worship, the sculptor’s, clean forgot in worship of her body lithe, And time forgotten with his scythe, and FAUNESSE. thought, the Witenagemot.

THE veil o' th' mist of the quiet wood is Confused in rapture : peace is culled a flower lifted to the seer’s gaze ; from the arboreal root, He burns athwart the murky maze beyond The vision dulled, the singer mute, shattered into beatitude. the lute, the song annulled. 118 RODIN IN RIME

SONNETS AND QUATORZAINS

MADAME RODIN. LA PENSEE.

Hznorc helpmeet of the silent home ! EXQUISITE fairy, flower from stone begotten, Shall who sings Att not worship womanhood ? Sprung into sudden shape of maidenhood, There is depth of calm beneath the sea's fine Hast thou thy father’s anguish all forgotten? foam; Hast thou a balm, who hast hardly under- Behind the great there is ever found the good. stood ? Honour and glory to the sacred house Is not thy beauty for his comfort moulded, And ark of the covenant of holy trust, Thy joy and purity his won reward ? ‘The unseen mother and the secret spouse Sweet blush of blood, pale blossom lightly Ever availing in the sorrow and dust folded, ‘That aye avenge the artist’s victory won, To thee did he carve his wayby right of Thatcover up his monuments of fame, sword ? ‘That twist his sight, once steadfast on the ‘Thou who art all delight to all of us, sun, Hast thou no special intimate caress To the fear folded in the robes of shame :— For him whose bloody sweat stood murderous Lest he, to all the world plain victor, find On the writhen brow, the bosom of dis- Himself mere failure to his own white mind. tress? Ay for his anguish thou art gain enough— One thought, worth all Earth’s fame, and gold, and love ! LE PENSEUR.

BLIND agony of thought! Who turns his pen Or brush or lyre to Art, shall see in this LE BAISER. The symbol of his battle against men For men, the picture of the torturing bliss INFINITE delicacy in great strength Of his necessity : sits clutched and closed Holds the white girl and draws her into Into himself the adept of wizard thought. love. Gripped in his own embrace he sits : keen- All herlithe subtlety, her lovely length, nosed Is sealed in the embrace about, above "The invisible bloodhounds ache upon the Her visible life, What mastery of repose, slot! Compulsion of motion lurks for us therein Soon, soon they are on him : soon the fangs As we gaze back on Greece, as Nature glows, of hate, Simple and sacred, with no thought ofsin, The sharp teeth of the infinite are in him ! Yet born to trouble us, to fascinate. Shall love, or fame, or gold, those pangs Here we are, back th’ springtime of the abate? earth ; What siren with smooth voice and breast God above man ; and above God, dire fate. shall win him? Ancient cosmogony of peace and mirth | Never a one, be sure! In serene awe Careless, we careless, do invoke thy rime !The thinker formulates eternal law. Of the ancient rapture of the olden time. SONNETS AND QUATORZAINS 119

W. E. HENLEY. BOUCHES D’ENFER. CLorsTRAL seclusion of the galleried pines Look how it leaps towards the leaper’s Is mine to-day these groves are fit for Pan— curl rich with Bacchic: frenzy and his wine’s Of vivid ecstasy, life loosed at last Atonement for the infinite woe of man ! From the long-held leash! ‘The headlong, Is there no God of Vital Art to dwell hot-mouthed girl Serene, enshrined, incensed, adored of us? Uponher sister like a star is cast, Were not a cemetery His citadel ? Pallid with death-in-life achieved. O force His treasure-house some barred sarcophagus ? And Of murder animal in the dead embrace ! here his mighty and reverend high-priest The implacable ardour, unavenged remorse Bade me good cheer, an eager acolyte, For time’s insulting loss, quickens the pace Poured the high wine, unveiled the mystic Unto its prey that gathers, like a storm feast j— Shrouding invisibly the crater's rim. Swooped the plumed anguish of inveterate Whence fury yet shall wake, and fire in- night ; form Devouring torture of insight shot. Night The inane basalt and coruscations dim, hovered ; Of smouldering infamy. Bow down in awe ! Dawn smote. I bowed—O God declared, It is enough. ‘The Gods areat feast, With- discovered ! draw]

SYRINX AND PAN.

LA GUERRE SyYRINxX is caught upon the Arcadian field The god’s grip huddles her girl breast his grim Sux sits and screams above the folk of peace, And gnarléd lips grin forth the soul of him. Deafening their quiet ears with hideous The bestial heart is sealed clamour. imprint ofhis And stamped armorial on her virgin shield, Abhorred and careless she bids order cease. Fame’s despoiled. Grows Her hate resolves the into a stammer argent heraldry shriek dim Ofinarticulate The wounded man rage. For her the universe: supple and slim ‘Twisted in agony beneath her squirms She slides in vain. She loathes him—and ‘Yo hear her raucous blasphemies outspan doth yield. The grip of God at this his last of terms. Yea! he must die with horror in his ears, Shame, sorrow, these be sire and dam of in his Hate heart. The mischief must song. endure, Fatality, O Nature, is thy name. He hath expiated naught by death, His Along the accurséd river, stagnant shame, tears, Eddying woe, from rape and godly wrong, these His thoughts, strike nor stay her not, Springs the immortal reed: the mortal’s cry be sure ! Rises, an angry anthem, to the sky. She is Madness, and a fury; though were 1 Written on visit to the late W. E. Henley gone at Woking some three weeks before his death. Alllife to war, she would scream on—seream "The influence of the man bas perhaps over- aOon. Shadowed thatofthe bust of him by Rodin, 120 RODIN IN RIME

ICAREA PAOLO ET FRANCESCA

IcARUS cries : My love is robed in light PAOLO ignites, Francesca is consumed. And splendour of the summits the sun. of Loosened she and breathes Wing, O my soul, thy plumed caparison lies, great gasps of love ; Through ninety million miles of space beyond He, hunter, leaps above, sight ! like an hungers, Attains, exults, This love is Utmost imagination’s eagle-flight despairs. doomed, Out-soar !” But he, by his own force un- Were hell. In walls done, there no granite en- tombed His peacock pinions molten one by one, Lies true and soul thereof. Falls to black earth through the impassive the spirit the The body here—yet it not enough, night. is is These litanies unchanted, unperfumed ? Lo! from uprushing earth arises love Ardent and secret, scented with the night, Live in the shuddering marble they remaii Amorous, ready. Sing the awakening bliss Here is the infinite credo of pure pain. ‘That catches him, from the inane above Here let life's agony take hold enough Hurled—nay, drawn down! What utter- Of all that lives: let partial tears for them most delight Wake knowledge, brain-dissolving diadem Dawns in that death! Icarus and Gaia kiss. Of white-hot woe upon the brows of love !

LA FORTUNE. “Hatt, Tyche! From the Amalthean horn. LES DEUX GENIES. Pour forth the store of love! I lowly bend Goop bends and breathes into the Before thee : I invoke thee at the end rosy shell When other gods are fallen and put to scorn. Of and love idleness, Thy foot is to my my sighs unborn peace perfume, in lips; OF cold the mystic Rise, touch and curl about thy heart ; they pure raptures, hymns spend stress, reiterate miracle. Pitiful love. Lovelier pity, descend Imagining’s And bring me luck who am lonely and for- lorn. Evil breathes, bending, the reverberate spell Conjuring ghosts oftheinsane address Fortune sits idle on her throne. The scent. Of agony lurid in the damned caress, Of honeyed incense wreathes herlips with Exulting tortures of the heart of hell. pleasure, The maiden sits and smiles. Her For of luxury she listens, pure delight turns, breath Smooth in her goddess rapture. So she Is ; over her bowed head spurns easy fall deep Glowing cascades of she combs her And crushes pale suppliant. Softly bent, hair; the hair Her body laughs in ecstasy of leisure, 1 "' " Called Fille d'Icare by the distinguished With subtle ecstasy, electric sweep anatomists, priceless idiots, and pragmatical Of unimaginable joy ; let life and precisians, who see but block of death nothing a she will marble in this most spiritual of Rodin's master- Pass; comb, and comb, and will pieces. not care. SONNETS AND QUATORZAINS

LA CRUCHE CASSEE. EVE.

broken at well. ‘Tur waterpot is the TRE glimmered through the primal rush from serpent Forth the waters, bubbling the tree, brim, Full in the gladness of the afterglow ; and round riven Curling coiling the rim, Its royal head warred ever and fro, Lost and she, her to beyond hope; sighs up- Seeking knowledge of the doom be. swell, the to Eve, in the naked love and liberty And sorrow shakes her: shame’s oblivious She had not bartered yet, moved sad and hell slow, Burns round her in her there body: eyes Serene toward the sunset, murmuring low swim ‘The tyrant's curse, the hideous decree. Tears of deep joy, deep anguish 5 love's first hymn Then she, instructed by the Saviour Snake, Is choral her miracle. in ear's young Saw onceclear Truth and gave her life, and love, She knows the utmost now; what waters ‘And and of the fiend above, white peace, favour For Knowledge, Knowledge pure for Know- She held from heaven's crystal fountains ; ledge’ sake. flight. The full moon rose. Creation's voice was Of what birds struck down :—Ah me! celestial dumb What god demigod hath struck remorse or For the first woman's shame, Into that close-crouched, and desolate strength, cold, martyrdom. corse, Wailing her violate virginity ?

FEMMES DAMNEES. LA TENTATION DE SAINT- ANTOINE. Kiss me, sister, kiss me down to death! The purple ofthe passionate hour flaked IN mystic dolour wrapt, the ascetic turns is With notes of gold: there swim desires un- His untutored thought love, vague to andsees slaked, Himself exalted at the amber knees Impossible of expostulate breath, Of God the Father his bowed forehead burns raptures ‘The marble heaves with longing ; hungereth ‘With chastity’s white: star: no yearns spirit The mouth balf-open the unawaked More keenly from the abyss; yet, God ! are for Mouth of the these baby blossom, where there ached Subtle star-sparks ofspirit chastity’s? Never till now the parched sweet song that These deep-set shiverings saint nor sage discerns? saith: “Ah! Laughter and love areover him, entice through the grace of languor and the His life to sweeter scent of sacrifice. glow She knows God's will, not he! Her ardour Of form steals sunset flaming on the snow ! licks Darkness shall follow as love wakeneth Flowers from the dust. O fool ! that, heavy In moonlight, and the flower, chaste love, of breath, now bloom Dost rot in worship at the shrine of death ! First in the bosom, after in the tomb— OO mystic rapture of the crucifix | Kiss me, O sister, kiss me down to death |” RODIN IN RIME

BALZAC. NABUCHADNOSOR. Granr, with iron secrecies ennighted, SENSELESS the eyes: the brow bereft of sense. Cloaked, Balzac stands and sees. Immense Hungeris on the throne of pride; and naught disdain, Fills the gray battlefield of ancient thought, Egyptian silence, mastery of pain, The market places of intelligence, Gargantuan laughter, shake or still the Save need and greed; whose royal words ignited incense Stature of the Master, vivid. Far, affrighted, The jealous God of Israel is distraught. The stunned air shudders on the skin. In No jewels in the casket nobly wrought. vain The shrine is grand; the god is ravished ‘The Masterof “La Comédie Humaine” thence. Shadows the deep-set eyes, genius-lighted,

On clawing hands and hardened knees the Epithalamia, birth-songs, epitaphs, King Are written in the mystery of his lips. Exists, no more; is little thing? Sad wisdom, scornful shame, grand agony it coffin-folds the King Demos, hear my parable! We pass, In the of cloak, scarred We poets, see you grovel at our feet, mountains, lie, Despise our love, and tender flesh, and And pity hides?th’ heart. Grim knowledge wheat, grips Clamour forlust, and carrion, and grass. The essential manhood. Balzac stands, and laughs.

MORT D'ADONIS. LE CYCLOPS SURPREND ACIS ET GALATHEE. Aponis dies. (Imagination hears The hoarse harsh breathing ofthe ill-nurtured. Coren in the hollow of the rock they kiss, boar) Rolled in one sphere of rapture; looks Venus bends low, half mother and half intense whore, With love, and laughter shapen of innocence! Whole murderess of boy's budhood. Fall, They cling, and close, and overhang the black fears ! abyss. But over them! What monster, then, this Ay! through her widowed, her unwedded is Crouchedfor his spring, gross muscles nude tears, and The foolish filial “Restore, tense, appeal, for the immense ! Bulged eyeballs ready rape, O Father Zeus, this tender life once more In hate, the imminent spectre? He Falls the baulked hope of half a million years. itis, The Cyclops. Ay! thought Zeus, and what She in her gloom and ignorance will go of that ? Forlorn to Paphos, wrapt in urgent woe, Were not well for love, in red rough maw Her hair funereal swathing her fallen forni, Swiftitcrunched, to expiate my eldest law ? Its wind-swept horror holding him ; his white Torn body blushing through tempestuous Better, far better thus. True love lies flat, night. ‘A weary plain beyond the single peak. aSo breaks the life in hell, the year in storm. I then will pity them. I will not speak. SONNETS AND QUATORZAINS 123

OCTAVE MIRBEAU. SOCRATE. BRUTAL refinement of deep-seated vice (HOMME AU NEZ CASSE.) Carves the coarse features in a sentient mould. CONSUMMATE beauty built of ugliness, The gardens, that were soft with flowers O broken-nose philosopher, is thine. and gold Diamonds are deepest in the blue-mud mine 5 And sickening with murder oflust to entice So is the secret of thy strong success The insane to filthier raptures, carrion spice Deemonic-glittering through the wear and Of ordurefor perfume, bloom there, fixed bold stress By the calm of the Master, god-like to behold Of tortured feature ; virtue’s soul doth shine, The horror withfirm chisel and glanceofice. Genius and wisdomin the force divine ‘That fills thy face; magnificence ! no less. Ay! and the petty and the sordid soul, A servile whore's deformed debauchery,? Ay! thou shalt drink the hemlock; thou Grins from the image. Let posterity shalt suffer From Rodin's art guess Mirbeau's heart, extol And die for self-respect, for love of others! The lethal chamber men ere then will find To-day are men indissolubly brothers? For the pimp's pen and the corrupted mind. Is my life smoother than the Greek’s or rougher? 1 Le des Octave jardin supplices, par The Greek at least shall stead me craft. Mirbeau, in my 2 Les mémoires d'une femme de chambre, Crucify Crowley! Nay, my friends! the par Octave Mirbeau, draught.

COLOPHON.

INCIDENT.

(RUE DE L'UNIVERSITE, 182.)

SPELL-BOUND we sat: the vivid violin Wailed, pleaded, waited, triumphed. Kingly note By note imperial fromits passionate throat Vibrates : the shadows fall like pauses in The workshop of the Master: where there spin Phrases in marble : fancies fall or float, Passions exult, despairs abound, loves dote, ‘Thoughts gallop or abide : and prayer is sin.

Spell-bound we sat: one, young, eagerly moves. One sits in thought: one listens, dreams, and loves. One, critical, approves with conscious nod. But I abode without the spell ; saw these— Diverse harmonics of identical keys !— ‘And these were thus: but Rodin heard like God, SCANS FROM ALEISTER CROWLEY’S THE EQUINOX Moreat https://keepsilence.org/the-equinox Special thanks to Tony Iannotti for providing for scans of the first edition This work made possible by donations from: Ordo Templi Orientis AMcTh Lodge Mark Dalton DeanEllis Horizone WATE Kjetil Fjell Nicholaus Gentry Lilith Vala Xara Michael Effertz Abigail I. Habdas Stewart Lundy Tony Iannotti "Nd Jay Lee 1A0131 Robin Bohumil Connor Smith Enatheleme & Egeira Scott Kenney Giovanni Iannotti, Ph.D. John MacDonald Collegium ad Lux et Nox Lutz Lemke Arcanum Coronam Fr. I.V.1.V.1. Igor Bagmanov Keith Cant Amber Baker Alan Willms crescente mutatio. If you would like to contribute please visit: https://keepsilence.org/the-equinox/donate.html