Secure from all the day's alarms,
Of boss and bell the very jinx,
He gazed immobile as the Sphinx
On pompous front and painted charms.
Now out of interstellar space,
Beyond the sunlight and the storm,
Appears that lightning-laden form,
That toothful smile, that cryptic face.
Whence came he, who that breathes can tell?--
He was so hid from mortal eyes,
Perhaps he fell from paradise,
Perhaps they chased him out of hell.
But now his heels show everywhere,
A dozen doors are opened wide,
He stands before, behind, beside,
He fills the ether and the air.
Far quicker than a wink or beck,
Far sleeker than a juvenile,
He barely tops the giant smile
That wreathes his forehead and his neck.
Oh! sudden gold evolved from dross!
Who wrought the shining miracle?
What magic cast the dazzling spell?--
The star is here to see the boss!
THE JESTER
All the fool's gold of the world,
All your dusty pageantries,
All your reeking praise of Self,
All your wise men's sophistries,
All that springs of golden birth,
Is not half the jester's worth!
Who's the jester? He is one,
Who behind the scenes hath been,
Caught Life with his make-up off,
Found him but a harlequin
Cast to play a tragic part--
And the two laughed, heart to heart!
IN A CAFE
Her face was the face of Age, with a pitiful smudge of Youth,
Carmine and heavy and lined, like a jester's mask on Truth;
And she laughed from the red lips outward, the laugh of the brave who die,
But a ghost in her laughter murmured, "I lie--I lie!"
She pressed the glass to her lips as one presses the lips of love,
And I said: "Are you always merry, and what is the art thereof?"
And she laughed from the red lips outward the laugh of the brave who die,
But a ghost in her laughter murmured, "I lie--I lie!"
TO A CABARET SINGER
Painted little singer of a painted song,
Painted little butterfly of a painted day,
The false blooms in your tresses, the spangles on your dresses,
The cold of your caresses,
I'll tell you what they say--
"The glass is at my lips, but the wine is far away,
The music's in my throat, but my soul no song confesses,
The laughter's on my tongue, but my heart is clay.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25