IMAGISTES

THE

P O E T R Y

B O O K S H O P

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. W . C .DES IMAGISTES L O N D O N : T H E P O E T R Y BOOKSHOP 35 D E V O N S H I R E S T R E E T THEOBALDS RD..

and knew the Doric singing. xαι έν Αίτναίαιοιν επαιζεν άoαι. xαι μέλος noε τo Δώριον.)) Επιτάφιος Βίωνος " A n d she also was of Sikilia and was gay in the valleys of AEtna." .((Καί xείνα Σιxελά.

. W.DES AN IMAGISTES ANTHOLOGY L O N D O N : T H E P O E T R Y BOOKSHOP 35 D E V O N S H I R E S T R E E T .C. ο NEW YORK ALBERT AND CHARLES BONI 06 FIFTH AVENUE 1014 . T H E O B A L D S R D .

1914 By Albert and Charles Boni .Copyright.

...21 H e r m e s of the W a y s I I ...-. D....CONTENTS RICHARD ALDINGTON Choricos .-15 The River 16 B r o m i o s .... Sitalkas 20 H e r m e s of the W a y s I .......-.-----22 Priapus .....-....-... S.24 Aeon ..τ ...-.— — 28 Epigram ------30 F..-..-.-26 Hermonax .. FLINT I - - 31 32 II Hallucination III IV V The Swan ------- 33 34 35 5 .17 To Atthis 19 H.........-.-- 7 T o a Greek Marble 10 A u Vieux Jardin -------11 Lesbia 12 Beauty T h o u Hast Hurt M e Overmuch 13 Argyria 14 I n the V i a S e s t i n a .....

TETMAIER T h e Rose DOCUMENTS T o H u l m e (Τ... ) and Fitzgerald 57 Vates. to A l d i .SKIPWITH CANNELL Nocturnes A M Y LOWELL 36 .The Return After Ch'u Y u a n L i u Ch'e Fan-Piece for H e r Imperial L o r d Ts'ai Chi'h FORD MADOX HUEFFER In the Little O l d Market-Place ALLEN UPWARD Scented Leaves from a Chinese Jar ...62 Bibliography 63 6 .JOHN COURNOS after K .. E ..38 39 -40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 51 54 In a Garden WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS Postlude JAMES JOYCE I Hear an A r m y EZRA POUND Δώρια — — .. the Social Reformer 59 Fragments Addressed by Clearchus H .

Daughters of Okeanus. That she wrought for us all for sleep In the silver days of the earth's dawning— Proserpina. and drooping breasts and wings— Symbols of ancient songs Mournfully passing Down to the great white surges. Cold lips that sing no more. The manifold winds and the dim moon.CHORICOS The ancient songs Pass deathward mournfully. Silently winging through soft Kimmerian dusk. To the quiet level lands That she keeps for us all. A n d the songs pass From the green land Which lies upon the waves as a leaf O n the flowers of hyacinth. Watched of none Save the frail sea-birds A n d the lithe pale girls. A n d they pass from the waters. Regretful eyes. A n d they come. A n d we turn from the Kuprian's breasts. daughter of Zeus. and withered wreaths. 7 .

Thou art the dusk and the fragrance. singing One last song. Phoibos Apollon. That we turn to thee. 8 . Thou art the lips of love mournfully smiling. Ο Death. A n d we turn from the music of old A n d the hills that we loved and the meads. Thou art an healing wind That blowest over white flowers Α-tremble with dew. A n d we turn from the fiery day. Thou art a wind flowing Over dark leagues of lonely sea. A n d the lips that were over sweet. Death. Thou hast come upon us.A n d we turn from thee. This only remains: That we turn to thee. For silently Brushing the fields with red-shod feet. A n d of all the ancient songs Passing to the swallow-blue halls By the dark streams of Persephone. Death. W i t h purple robe Searing the flowers as with a sudden flame.

Since with thy white hands. W e kneel before thee: A n d thou. A n d we look no more for the morning W e yearn no more for the sun. Caressingly layest upon us Flowers from thy thin cold hands. Death. A n d with bowed head and unlit eyes. A n d silently. Thou sealest our eyes A n d the illimitable quietude Comes gently upon us. smiling as a chaste woman Knowing love in her heart. leaning towards us. RICHARD ALDINGTON 9 . Thou art the silence of beauty.Thou art the pale peace of one Satiate with old desires. A n d with slow feet approaching. The slim colourless poppies Which in thy garden alone Softly thou gatherest. And. Thou crownest us with the pallid chaplets.

The far ecstasy of burning noons When the fragile pipes Ceased in the cypress shade. Thy lover of aforetime crying to thee. I have whispered thee in thy solitudes O f our loves in Phrygia. These garments and decorum.TO A GREEK MARBLE Πότνια. χότνια White grave goddess. A n d thou hearest me not. A n d thou hearest me not. I am thy brother. Pity my sadness. Ο silence of Paros. Thou hearest me not. I am not of these about thy feet. RICHARD ALDINGTON IO . Πότνια. A n d only the cicada sang. πότνια. A n d the brown fingers of the shepherd Moved over slim shoulders. I have told thee of the hills A n d the lisp of reeds A n d the sun upon thy breasts.

And the pale yellow grasses Among them.A U VIEUX JARDIN I have sat here happy in the gardens. RICHARD ALDINGTON II . That which sets me nighest to weeping Is the rose and white colour of the smooth flag-stones. But though I greatly delight In these and the water lilies. Watching the still pool and the reeds A n d the dark clouds Which the wind of the upper air Tore like the green leafy boughs O f the divers-hued trees of late summer.

LESBIA Use no more speech now. are rotten now. Hermes. A n d through it all I see your pale Greek face. and Thoth. RICHARD ALDINGTON 12 . Tenderness makes me as eager as a little child To love you Y o u morsel left half cold on Caesar's plate. A n d all the gods they dreamed and fabled of. and Christ. Y o u had the ivory of my life to carve. Let the silence spread gold hair above us Fold on delicate fold. A n d Picus of Mirandola is dead. Rotten and dank. Use no more speech.

RICHARD ALDINGTON 13 . O beautiful sorrow. Where wert thou born O thou woe That consumest my life? Whither comest thou? Toothed wind of the seas. The soft notes Feed upon the wound. As a bird with strong claws Thou woundest me. No man knows thy beginning.BEAUTY THOU HAST HURT M E OVERMUCH The light is a wound to me.

Swayer of reeds. white song. Y o u have given them to the white waters. White limbs. whisperer Among the flowering rushes. RICHARD ALDINGTON 14 . Pan mourns for you. Y o u have hidden your hands Beneath the poplar leaves. White cloud the white sun kissed into the air.ARGYRIA O you. Swallow-fleet. Slight reed that sang so blithely in the wind. Pan mourns for you. O you most fair. Sea-child cold from waves.

IN T H E V I A SESTINA Ο daughter of Isis. T h o u standest beside the wet h i g h w a y O f this decayed R o m e . A manifest harlot. S t r a i g h t a n d s l i m art t h o u A s a marble p h a l l u s . A n d m y heart stops w i t h awe A t the presence of the gods. RICHARD ALDINGTON 15 . T h e r e beside thee on the stall of images Is the head o f Osiris T h y lord. T h y face is the face o f Isis Carven A s she is carven i n basalt.

She has come f r o m beneath the trees. Y o u have touched m y face W i t h y o u r leaves of silver. Colourless waters and b r o w n f a d i n g hills. M o v i n g w i t h i n the mist.THE RIVER I I d r i f t e d along the r i v e r U n t i l I m o o r e d m y boat B y these crossed trunks. RICHARD ALDINGTON 16 . A floating leaf. II Ο blue flower of the evening. L o v e me for I must depart. H e r e the mist moves O v e r fragile leaves and rushes.

B u t they smell of the w a r m grasses. Y o u r breasts are cold sea-ripples. T h e touch of their shagged curled fur A n d blunt h o r n s ! T h e y have w i n e i n heavy craters P a i n t e d black and r e d . exquisite fingers! Io! I have brought y o u the b r o w n clusters. W i n e to splash on her white body. afraid! Let And Let Ah. I o ! the fauns and the satyrs.BROMIOS T h e withered bonds are broken. T h e hot w i n d swirls T h r o u g h the red pine trunks. the cruel. Io! She shrinks f r o m the cold shower— Afraid. T h e ivy-boughs and pine-cones. them tear the quick deers' flesh. 17 . T h e w a x e d reeds and the double pipe C l a m o u r about m e . the M a e n a d s break through the myrtles the boughs of the rohododaphnai.

RICHARD ALDINGTON. 18 . T h e t r a m p l i n g o f the panisks and the centaurs.T h r o w wide the chiton and the peplum. M a i d e n s of the D e w . B e a u t i f u l the sudden folds. Io! H e a r the r i c h laughter o f the forest. Ο M a e n a d s . T h e cymbals. B e a u t i f u l are y o u r bodies. T h e v a n i s h i n g curves o f the white linen About you.

TO

ATTHIS the Manuscript of Sappho now in Berlin)

(After

A t t h i s , f a r f r o m me and dear M n a s i d i k a , Dwells in Sardis; M a n y times she was near us S o that we l i v e d life well L i k e the far-famed goddess W h o m above a l l things music delighted. A n d n o w she is first among the L y d i a n w o m e n A s the m i g h t y sun, the rose-fingered moon, Beside the great stars. And And And Rose And the light fades f r o m the bitter sea i n like manner f r o m the rich-blossoming e a r t h ; the dew is shed upon the flowers, and soft meadow-sweet many-coloured melilote.

M a n y things t o l d are remembered o f sterile A t t h i s . I yearn to behold thy delicate soul To satiate my desire. . . . ............
RICHARD ALDINGTON

19

SITALKAS T h o u art come at length M o r e beautiful T h a n any cool god In a chamber under L y c i a ' s far coast, T h a n any h i g h god W h o touches us not H e r e i n the seeded grass. A y e , than Argestes Scattering the broken leaves. H . D.

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HERMES OF T H E WAYS I T h e h a r d sand breaks, A n d the grains of it A r e clear as wine. F a r off over the leagues o f it, The wind, P l a y i n g on the wide shore, P i l e s little ridges, A n d the great waves B r e a k over it. B u t m o r e than the many-foamed ways O f the sea, I know him O f the triple path-ways, Hermes, W h o awaiteth. Dubious, F a c i n g three ways, W e l c o m i n g wayfarers, H e w h o m the sea-orchard Shelters f r o m the west, F r o m the east Weathers sea-wind; F r o n t s the great dunes.

21

T w i s t e d are T h e small-leafed boughs. B u t the shadow of them Is not the shadow of the mast head N o r o f the t o r n sails. salt-crusted grass Answers. T h e boughs of the trees A r e twisted B y m a n y bafflings. B u t the water is sweet. A p p l e s on the small trees A r e hard. It w h i p s r o u n d m y a n k l e s ! II S m a l l is T h i s white stream. T o o small. A n d the coarse. F l o w i n g below g r o u n d F r o m the poplar-shaded h i l l .W i n d rushes O v e r the dunes. Heu. T o o late ripened B y a desperate sun T h a t struggles t h r o u g h sea-mist. 22 .

Hermes. H . B u t y o u have waited. T h e great sea foamed. Gnashed its teeth about m e . W h e r e sea-grass tangles w i t h Shore-grass. Hermes. D. 23 .

Spare us the beauty O f fruit-trees! T h e honey-seeking P a u s e d not. S t r i p p e d late of their green sheaths. T h e yellow s w a r m W a s not more fleet than I. T h e honey-seeking. T h e air thundered their song. T h o u hast flayed us w i t h thy blossoms. Spare us f r o m loveliness. T h e fallen hazel-nuts. Crying. A n d I alone was prostrate. alone unbeautiful ( S o n of the g o d ) . 24 . D o thou.PRIAPUS Keeper-of-Οrchards I saw the first pear A s it fell. I b r i n g thee an o f f e r i n g . golden-banded. ( S p a r e us f r o m loveliness!) A n d I fell prostrate. Ο rough-hewn G o d of the orchard.

25 . D. A n d shrunken fig. A n d quinces untouched. T h e i r berries D r i p p i n g w i t h wine.T h e grapes. H . I b r i n g thee as offering. red-purple. Pomegranates already broken.

W h o dwell i n wet caves. H a u n t i n g the groves. A n d to the steep slopes. D r a w i n g sharp breath. Close pressed i n calathes. A n d i v y wreathes. w o v e n g o l d berries. H y e l l a . T o the r i v e r E r y m a n t h u s . A n d early roses. C y p e r u m frail o f flower. W h i c h she once brought to y o u r altars. F o r all the whitish leaves of olive-branch. W h o m no god pitieth.ACON (After Joannes I B e a r me to Dictaeus. Nereids. Baptista Amaltheus) II Dryads. She. 26 . B r o k e n w i t h harsh sobs. I choose spray o f dittany.h e a l i n g herbs. A l l . F o r she lies panting. B u d s of m y r r h .

27 . flower. D. fleet-footed nymphs. Pales. A n d frail-headed poppies. H. B r i n g gifts. B r i n g y o u r P h o e n i c i a n stuffs. I l l y r i a n iris. H i d d e n i n a far valley.B e a r n o w ripe fruits f r o m A r c a d i a . Perishes upon burnt grass. A n d do y o u . T h e light of her face falls f r o m its A s a hyacinth. A n d A s s y r i a n wine T o shatter her fever. B r i n g offerings. A n d a branch of shrub.

A n d Palemon. grey-green fastnesses O f the great deeps. T h e wavelets flung it here. T h i s strange creature like a weed. T h i s sea-gliding creature. C o v e r e d w i t h salt foam. R i s k i n g chance. And I W h o can offer no other sacrifice to thee B r i n g this. L e a v i n g w a r m meads F o r the green. L e t a l l w h o m the sea loveth. I. T o r n f r o m the hillocks O f rock. H e r m o n a x . H e a r me. B r i g h t striker of sea-shaft. Came on it. P l y i n g the sea craft. Ino.HERMONAX Gods of the sea. Caster of nets. B r o k e n by great waves. 28 . C o m e to its altar front.

29 . A n d to P a l e m o n . D. H e r m o n a x . Ino.T h u s to sea g o d C o m e t h gift of sea w r a c k . H. I. offer it T o thee.

D. the bright H o m o n o e a : Gone the dear chatterer. She. beloved o f A t i m e t u s . T h e s w a l l o w .EPIGRAM (After the Greek) T h e golden one is gone f r o m the banquets. 30 . H.

F . I think of her and the g l o w her passing sheds on men. B u t as the m o o n creeps slowly over the tree-tops among the stars. S.I L o n d o n . FLINT 31 . nor the darkness stealing over all things that moves me. nor the quietness. I will climb into the branches to the moonlit tree-tops. m y beautiful. L o n d o n . m y beautiful. it is not the hopping of birds upon the l a w n . it is not the sunset nor the pale green sky s h i m m e r i n g through the curtain of the silver birch. that m y blood m a y be cooled by the w i n d .

what rooms lie beyond them? I venture. pleased. m y eyes are closed. N o w I stand awake. . . . and her need calls me to her. . W h e r e do those doors lead. . . M y w i f e breathes gently at m y side. and there are c o r r i d o r s : the pictures. S. unseeing. . w o n d e r i n g . . the statues and those gems i n cases I have wandered by before. and I am on the threshold waiting. B u t once again this o l d dream is w i t h i n me. . B u t m y baby moves and tosses f r o m side to side. . FLINT 32 . I shall not reach her .— stood there silent and lonely in a dream of years ago. in the dark. T h e r e is no direction. and I am half asleep. . F. I k n o w the dark of night is a l l a r o u n d m e . . I have seen b e f o r e . a n d fearful.II HALLUCINATION I k n o w this r o o m . . . I shall w a l k on. and I m o v e towards her cot.

N o . I am immortal. lips that have never m i n t e d speech. . . b l o c k i n g the h i g h w a y . they are the clipped and garbled. eyes that have never seen the w o r l d . o r surge i n before the s w i f t rush of the c l a n g i n g trams. these people. mean.— p i t i f u l . encumbering. In a wood. .III Immortal? . B u t these ? F . S. T i r e d faces. bodies that have never l i v e d i n air. w a t c h i n g the shadow of a b i r d leap f r o m f r o n d to f r o n d o f bracken. they cannot be. . F L I N T 33 . the potherbs. Immortal? . nor I. ugly. the cheap jacks. T h e y s w a r m and eddy between the banks of g l o w i n g shops towards the r e d meat.

and then f o l d o v e r the h o l l o w w h e r e a l l the p a i n was. F L I N T 34 . F . . they f a l l . I gaze at the t h r o n g i n g stars i n the night. and afraid. . E a c h leaf o f the aspen is caressed b y the w i n d .IV The and grass is beneath m y h e a d . . T h e y fall . . and each is c r y i n g . And the perfume o f invisible roses deepens the anguish. . L e t a s t r o n g m e s h o f roots feed the c r i m s o n o f roses upon m y heart. S. I am overwhelmed.

F L I N T 35 . t o w a r d the deep black water beneath the arches. S. F . Into the d a r k o f the arch the swan floats a n d into the black depth o f m y s o r r o w it bears a w h i t e rose o f flame.ν T H E SWAN U n d e r the l i l y shadow a n d the g o l d a n d the blue a n d m a u v e that the w h i n a n d the lilac p o u r d o w n o n the water. the fishes quiver. O v e r the green c o l d leaves a n d the r i p p l e d silver a n d the tarnished copper of its neck a n d beak. the s w a n floats s l o w l y .

L e s t I stumble. T h o u D o v e o f the G o l d e n E y e s . U p o n any path w i l l I f o l l o w thee. T h e r e f o r e bear me w i t h thee Swiftly U p o n o u r road.NOCTURNES I T h y feet. Ο my Beloved. I a m sick w i t h longing. T h e r e f o r e I w i l l f o l l o w thee. T h o u hast set u p o n pleasant w a y s . s i l v e r birds. II T h y feet are white U p o n the f o a m o f the sea. H o l d me fast. 36 . A n d now I am weary. III L o n g have I been B u t the S i n g e r beneath thy Casement. F o r the l i g h t o f thy beauty Shines before me like a t o r c h . A n d into deep waters. T h a t are l i k e little. t h o u bright S w a n .

F o r t h y hair. H o l d e t h m y heart W i t h i n its web of g o l d . I a m faint w i t h l o v e . and thy lips A r e night-born popies.IV W i t h the net o f thy h a i r T h o u hast fished i n the sea. G i v e me therefore thy lips T h a t I m a y k n o w sleep. VI I am weary with longing. SKIPWITH CANNELL 37 . F o r u p o n m y head has the moonlight Fallen A s a sword. Beloved. A n d a strange fish H a s t t h o u caught i n thy net. V I a m w e a r y w i t h love.

W h e r e t r i c k l e a n d plash the fountains. W i t h its g u r g l i n g a n d r u n n i n g . H i g h i n the a r c h o f night. W h i l e the m o o n rode over the garden. A n d the scent o f the lilacs was heavy w i t h stillness. Night and the water. a n d deep. I w a n t e d to see y o u i n the s w i m m i n g . In the m i d s t o f the quiet of close-clipped lawns. T h e w a t e r fills the garden w i t h its r u s h i n g .IN A GARDEN G u s h i n g f r o m the mouths o f stone m e n T o spread at ease under the s k y In g r a n i t e . W i t h its leaping.p o o l . And I w i s h e d f o r night a n d y o u . D a m p smell the ferns i n tunnels o f stone. S p l a s h i n g d o w n moss-tarnished steps It falls. M a r b l e fountains. LOWELL bathing! 38 . cool m u r m u r . and you in your AMY whiteness.l i p p e d basins. W h e r e iris dabble t h e i r feet A n d rustle to a passing w i n d . W h i t e a n d s h i n i n g i n the silver-flecked water. the And water. y e l l o w e d w i t h m u c h water. the a i r is t h r o b b i n g w i t h i t .

W h o f r o m that m i s t y sea S w a r m to destroy us. Give me h a n d f o r the dances. A n d lips. m y Lesbian. W I L L I A M CARLOS W I L L I A M S flame. Temples soothed by the sun t o r u i n T h a t sleep u t t e r l y . W a l l flowers t h a t once were Y o u r h a i r is m y Carthage A n d m y arms the b o w A n d our words arrows T o shoot the stars. i n and out. h o w shall I defy y o u W h o w o u n d me i n the n i g h t W i t h breasts s h i n i n g L i k e V e n u s and like M a r s ? T h e n i g h t that is shouting Jason W h e n the l o u d eaves rattle A s w i t h waves above me B l u e at the p r o w o f m y desire! O prayers i n the d a r k ! O incense t o P o s e i d o n ! Calm in Atlantis. 39 .POSTLUDE Now t h a t I have cooled to y o u L e t there be g o l d o f tarnished masonry. Ripples at Philae. But y o u ' r e there beside me O h .

i n black a r m o u r .I HEAR A N ARMY I hear an a r m y c h a r g i n g u p o n the l a n d . a b l i n d i n g flame. f o a m about t h e i r knees: A r r o g a n t . M y heart. T h e y cleave the g l o o m o f dreams. A n d the t h u n d e r o f horses p l u n g i n g . T h e y c r y into the night t h e i r battle I moan i n sleep when I hear laughter. m y love. w i t h ioteers. C l a n g i n g . have y o u no w i s d o m thus to despair? M y love. b e h i n d them stand. T h e y come s h a k i n g i n t r i u m p h their l o n g g r e y h a i r : T h e y come out o f the sea and r u n s h o u t i n g by the shore. c l a n g i n g u p o n the heart as u p o n an a n v i l . w h y have y o u left alone? J A M E S JOYCE fluttering w h i p s . the C h a r ­ name: their whirling afar me 40 . D i s d a i n i n g the rains. m y love.

T h e shadowy flowers o f O r c u s Remember Thee. a n d not A s transient things are— gaiety of flowers. H a v e me i n the strong loneliness of sunless cliffs A n d o f grey waters. EZRA POUND 41 . I n days L e t the gods speak softly o f us hereafter.Δ'ΩΡΙΑ B e i n me as the eternal moods of the bleak w i n d .

one. Gods o f the w i n g e d shoe! W i t h them the silver hounds sniffing the trace o f a i r ! Haie! Haie! T h e s e were the swift to h a r r y .a w a k e n e d . they r e t u r n . a n d the slow feet. as h a l f . " Inviolable. S l o w o n the leash.m e n ! EZRA POUND 42 . T h e trouble i n the pace a n d the u n c e r t a i n Wavering! See. These the keen-scented. they return. ah. T h e s e were the souls o f blood. see the tentative M o v e m e n t s . p a l l i d the l e a s h .THE RETURN See. A s i f the s n o w should hesitate A n d m u r m u r i n the w i n d and h a l f t u r n b a c k . These were the " W i n g ' d .w i t h . W i t h fear. and by one.A w e .

AFTER CH'U YUAN I w i l l get me to the w o o d W h e r e the gods w a l k garlanded i n wisteria. F o r there are leopards d r a w i n g the cars. I w i l l come out of the new thicket and accost the procession of maidens. B y the silver-blue flood move others w i t h i v o r y cars. I w i l l w a l k i n the glade. m y friend. T h e r e come forth m a n y maidens to gather grapes for the leopards. EZRA POUND 43 .

LIU CH'E T h e r u s t l i n g o f the silk is discontinued. T h e r e is no sound of footfall. 44 . A n d she the rejoicer of the heart is beneath t h e m : A wet leaf that clings to the threshold. and the leaves S c u r r y into heaps and lie still. D u s t drifts over the c o u r t y a r d . EZRA POUND.

FAN-PIECE FOR H E R IMPERIAL Ο fan of white silk. clear as frost on the Y o u also are laid aside. LORD grass-blade. EZRA POUND 45 .

46 . the orange coloured rose-leaves.TS'AI CHI'H T h e petals fall i n the fountain. EZRA POUND. T h e i r ochre clings to the stone.

asses. dark arches and a l l . it rains.) It rains. w i t h the wet cobbles. V. so the owls I n the g l o o m H a v e too little r o o m A n d brush by the saint on the fountain I n veering about. turkeys and fowls Set into the rain-soaked w a l l O f the o l d T o w n H a l l . T h e p o o r saint on the f o u n t a i n ! Supported by plaques o f the g i v e r T o w h o m we're beholden. T h e owls ( F o r i n dark rainy weather the owls fly out W e l l before f o u r ) . 47 .IN T H E LITTLE OLD MARKET-PLACE (To the Memory of Α. O x e n . T h e market's so small T h a t . sheep. H i s name was de Sales A n d his wife's name v o n M a n g e l . T h e mountains being so tall A n d f o r c i n g the t o w n on the river. F r o m gutters and drains A n d gargoyles and gables: It drips f r o m the tables T h a t tell us the tolls upon grains.

.( N o w is he a saint o r archangel?) H e stands o n a d r a g o n O n a ball. ( N o w what saint or archangel Stands w i n g e d on a dragon. m y knowledge O f all the saints o f the college. Is sadly defective. O n top o f his c o l u m n Gazes up sad and solemn. w i t h o u t hint of a l a r m or invective L o o k s up at the mists on the mountain.) T h e poor saint on the fountain . B e a r i n g golden scales a n d a broad bladed s w o r d a l l golden? A l a s . H e bears golden scales A n d i n spite of the coils o f his dragon. olden S a c r e d and misty stories O f angels and saints and o l d glories . on a c o l u m n G a z i n g up at the vines on the m o u n t a i n : A n d his falchion is golden A n d his wings are a l l golden. . . . B u t is it towards the top of the m o u n t a i n W h e r e the spindrifty haze is T h a t he gazes? O r is it into the casement W h e r e the g i r l sits sewing? T h e r e ' s no k n o w i n g . 48 . O f all these g l i m m e r i n g .

. 49 . N o t a stall for a grape or a raisin.H e a r it r a i n ! A n d f r o m eight leaden pipes i n the ball he stands on T h a t has eight leaden and copper bands on. Mutterseelens alone. In the market there isn't an ox. A n d the maiden that sews i n the casement. A n d the r a i n dribbles d o w n f r o m his heels and his crown. A n d he stands on his dragon A n d the g i r l sits sewing H i g h . T h e r e gurgle and drain E i g h t driblets of water d o w n into the basin. T h e poor saint! It rains and it rains. N o t a soul i n the market Save the saint on his dragon W i t h the r a i n dribbling d o w n in the basin. A n d i n all the emplacement F o r waggons there isn't a waggon. very high i n her casement A n d before her are many geraniums in a parket A l l g r o w i n g and b l o w i n g In b o x upon b o x F r o m the gables right d o w n to the basement W i t h frescoes and carvings and paint . . T h e y are still and alone.

F r o m behind the flowers of her casement That's a l l gay w i t h the carvings and paint. grey and f a w n .F r o m wet stone to wet stone. A n d the owls. . . It's grey as at dawn. T h e maiden gives a great y a w n . W h e r e the fire-hooks are stored. C a l l f r o m the little t o w n hall W i t h its arch i n the w a l l . B u t the poor saint— N o doubt he's as b o r e d ! Stands still on his c o l u m n U p l i f t i n g his s w o r d W i t h never the ease o f a y a w n F r o m w e t d a w n to w e t d a w n . FORD MADOX H U E F F E R 50 .

thou shy one!" THE JONQUILS I have heard that a certain princess. when she found that she had been m a r r i e d by a demon. T H E GOLD F I S H L i k e a breath f r o m hoarded musk. are thy kisses. w h i c h blooms all the year round. T H E INTOXICATED. L i k e the golden fins that move W h e r e the tank's green shadows part— L i v i n g flames out of the dusk— A r e the l i g h t n i n g throbs of love In the passionate lover's heart. h a v i n g taken the bridle off his tongue. spoke t h u s : " M o r e fragrant than the heliotrope. 51 . better than v e r m i l i o n letters on tablets of sendal. wove a wreath of jonquils and sent it to the lover of former days.SCENTED LEAVES FROM A CHINESE JAR T H E BITTER P U R P L E W I L L O W S M e d i t a t i n g on the g l o r y of illustrious lineage I lifted up m y eyes and beheld the bitter purple willows g r o w ­ ing r o u n d the tombs of the exalted M i n g s . POET A poet.

have r u l e d over the M i d d l e K i n g d o m f o r f o u r thousand years. clad i n robes of yellow silk embroidered w i t h the D r a g o n . cast his body d o w n between the waves.T H E MERMAID T h e sailor boy w h o leant over the side of the J u n k of M a n y Pearls. no longer that the dew is shaken f r o m their oars. T H E SEA-SHELL T o the passionate lover. b e l i e v i n g that he h a d heard the voice of a m e r m a i d . T H E MIDDLE KINGDOM T h e emperors o f fourteen dynasties. THE MILKY WAY M y mother taught me that every night a procession of j u n k s c a r r y i n g lanterns moves silently across the sky. I no longer believe that the stars are j u n k s c a r r y i n g lanterns. w e a r i n g g o l d diadems set w i t h pearls and rubies. whose sighs come back to h i m on every breeze. and combed the green tresses of the sea w i t h his i v o r y fingers. and the water s p r i n k l e d f r o m their paddles falls to the earth i n the f o r m o f dew. 52 . a n d seated on thrones of incomparable i v o r y . a l l the w o r l d is l i k e a m u r m u r i n g sea-shell.

T H E S W A L L O W TOWER A m i d a landscape flickering w i t h poplars. A g a i n s t its s u n . A L L E N UPWARD 53 . and from the battlements the birds that flit below are seen like fishes i n a green moat. T h e w i n ­ dows of the T o w e r stand open day and n i g h t . and h o l d com­ munication w i t h the u n k n o w n K e e p e r of the T o w e r . the winged Guests come w h e n they please.w o r n walls a sea of orchards breaks i n white f o a m . T h e winds out of the four quarters of heaven come to sigh around it. the S w a l l o w T o w e r stands i n the haunts of the sun. and netted by a silver stream. the clouds forsake the zenith to bathe it w i t h continuous kisses.

hastened towards m y feet w i t h a monotonous. again and again. but strewn petals on restless water. T E T M A I E R 54 . l i k e butterflies over the green meadows . emeralds and opals. b u r n i n g disc of the sun. J O H N COURNOS after K . caught i n the wave. W h i t e seagulls hovered above the waves. and w i t h a l l p r o u d things. and watched it. . red on the snow-white foam. paler on the emerald wave. I threw the rose into the sea. now r i s i n g anew into the heights. t r a i l i n g its smoke. and violet. veiled in g o l d . v e r g i n g on silver. F a r i n the east. H i g h i n the clear. G e n t l y the waves lapped the shore. T h e c a l m sea. a n d scatter­ ing into pearls. n o w barely touching them w i t h their snow-white breasts. . a ship. blue-golden s k y h u n g the great. receding. like the prolonged note of a single harp-string. caressed by the sun. A n d the sea continued to return it to me.THE ROSE I remember a day w h e n I stood o n the sea shore at N i c e . r h y t h m i c a l sound. I n the end n o t h i n g remains but a h a n d f u l o f petals of what was once a p r o u d flower . h o l d i n g a scarlet rose i n m y hands. . at last no longer a flower. g l i d e d s l o w l y f r o m sight as though it had foundered i n the waste. . So w i t h the heart. was b r i g h t l y garmented i n blue.

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P . Ε. T h e toils I shun and a' that.TO H U L M E (Τ.) A N D F I T Z G E R A L D Is there f o r feckless poverty T h a t grins at ye for a' that! A h i r e d slave to none am I. T h e m a n of independent means H e looks and laughs at a' that. A l t h o u g h m y linen still is clean. for a' that. books and a' that. It's but E . twice a week. Y e see this b i r k i e ca'ed a bard. W i ' cryptic eyes and a' that. B u t under-fed for a' that. 57 . F o r a' that and a' that. These breeks 'll no last many weeks 'Gainst wear and tear and a' that. F o r a' that and a' that. F o r a' that and a' that. M y name but mocks the guinea stamp. M y tinsel shows and a' that. M y socks fine silk and a' that. M y verses. A n d P o u n d ' s dead broke for a' that. and a' that. A l t h o u g h I dine and d r i n k good w i n e — Say. Aesthetic phrases by the y a r d .

W i b time to loaf a n d w i l l to w r i t e I ' l l stick to rhyme f o r a' that. H U L M E . T h e i r royalties and a' that. W R I T T E N FOR T H E C E N A C L E OF 1909 VIDE I N T R O ­ DUCTION TO " T H E C O M P L E T E POETICAL WORKS O F Τ. " P U B L I S H E D A T T H E E N D OF "RIPOSTES.One m a n w i l l m a k e a novelette A n d sell the same a n d a' that. F o r a' that and a' that. E . I k n o w m y trade and G o d has made Some men to rhyme a n d a' that. F o r a' that and a' that. sneers and a' that." 58 . N a e editor m a u n f a ' that. A n d ye m a y prise and g a n g y o u r w a y s W i ' pity. I m a u n gang on f o r a' that W i ' verse to verse u n t i l the hearse C a r t s off me wame and a' that. F o r verse nae m a n can siller get.

when he was s m i l i n g like a Chinese queen. O n e thinks. queer. Y o u b l a n k y G o d . Queer. A n d when I've shut up Rates. D e a r u n k n o w n G o d . I ' l l tell y o u half a dozen things o r so. dear chicken-pox of H e a v e n .w h i d d l i n g about prose. A n d t i d d l e . y o u blighted G o d . T r y i n g to quiz a mutton-headed poetaster. L o o k i n g as queer ( I do assure y o u .) T h e r e goes a flock of starlings— N o w half a dozen years ago. dear G o d of mine. T H E SOCIAL REFORMER W h a t shall be said of h i m . G o d ) A s any Chinese queen I ever s a w . and let me speak) I should have hove m y sporting air-gun up A n d blazed a w a y — a n d n o w I let 'em go— It's o d d h o w one changes. 59 . B u t still. dear. be quiet for half minute. Y e s . I ' m bored I s a y ) . queer-faced G o d . that's H i g h G e r m a n y . one thinks. of quite a lot o f things. y o u k n o w . queer-faced G o d . queer. B u t s t i l l — m y social f r i e n d — ( O n e has to be f a m i l i a r i n one's discourse) W h i l e he was puffing out his jets o f w i t O v e r his swollen-bellied pipe.w h i d d l e . and sat on N a b o t h . this cock-o'-hoop? ( I ' m just a trifle bored. ( D e a r u n k n o w n G o d . ( S h u t up.VATES.

It's really most amazing. This fellow makes me sick with all his talk. Soft collar and black hat and Greek ambitions. I can't get off the mark. dear God. But really. Endowed me with a tattered velvet coat. (dear God. While he pretends to sanity. Yes. Modernity. dear God of mine. Look here. doncherknow. you queer-faced God. Write it in prose.) A n d marveled. His ha'penny gibes at Celtic bards A n d followers of Dante—honest folk!— Because. That you have set me down in London town. I contemplated him A n d marveled ( G o d ! I marveled. 60 . It's bad enough. Dear God of mine.A n d choking all the time with politics— W h y then I say. why should I write it down?— But Rates and Naboth Aren't half such silly fools as he is (God) For they are frankly asinine. dear God. the rotten beggar goes A n d makes a Chinese blue-stocking F r o m half-digested dreams of Munich-air. as I said. A n d then—God. in red ink. A t the stupendous quantity of mind A n d the amazing quality thereof. God. dear God). Y o u might have left me there.

Yes. you rotten Roman Catholic) To put his hypothetical conceptions O f what a poor young poetaster would think Into his own damned shape. God. He'd have me write bad novels like himself. this sage social reformer (Yes. God. I know it's after closing time. That so much bitterness should flop on me? Social Reformer! That's the beggar's name. 61 . that's High Germany. (Shut up. I know I've smoked his cigarettes. But watch that sparrow on the fountain in the rain How half a dozen years ago. What have I done. A . you blighted God. A n d yes.But now you send This "vates" here. and then to attack it To his own great contemplative satisfaction. Yes. Ο God. R. and let me speak) I should have hove my sporting air-gun up A n d blazed away—and now I let him go— It's odd how one changes.

Notes. ' Α Λ Δ Ί . (1) ΑvehicleconductingpassengersfromAthens. 62 .thecapitalofGreece. Ί ΆΥΕ ΣΑΤ ΈΡΕ ΆΡΡΙΕ ΙΝ ΜΙ ΆΡΜΧΑΙΡ (ΧΎΤΝΗΒΥΣ. "O Sappho!!!!!! Xenophon's Anabasis God! O Montreal!" F. ΈΛΛΕΝΙΚ. Τ Ο ΑLDI ΠΩΕΤΡΙΕ ΠΡΙΚΕ ΦΙΦΤΕΕΝ ΚΕΝΞ χ.ΛΑΣΣΙΚΑΛ 'ΡΥΘΜ ΌΦ ΘΕ ΡΑΡΕ ΣΧΕΕΧΕΣ. ΓΡΕΑΤΛΙΕ ΔΕΛΙΓΤΕΔ 3 (ΉΡΆΜΑΝ Μ Έ Ν ΈΓΏ ΣΈΘΕΝ. Μ. ΎΙΘ ΘΕ ΔΑΡΚ. Η.tothetempleofthe (2) (3) (4) Rendered by Butler. ΧΆΛΑΙ ΧΌΤΑ) ΊΝ ΘΗΣΕ ΆΝΔ ΘΕ Έ Ζ Ρ Α ΥΙΣΚΈΡΣ ΤΆΤ ΎΙΧ ΣΕΤΣ ΜΕ ΝΙΡΕΣΤ ΤΟ ΥΕΕΧΙΝΓ (Ό ΔΈ ΚΛΈΑΡΧΟΣ ΕΊΧΕ) Ώ ΘΕ ΥΝΣΧΩΚΕΝ ΣΧΕΕΧΕΣ 4 ΊΣ ΘΕ /.Fragments Addressed By Clearchus Η. ΆΙΡ ΎΙΧ ΘΕ ΎΙΝΔ ΌΦ ΜΙ ΎΧΡΑΙΣΕΔ ΥΟΙΚΕ ΤΟΡΕ ΛΙΚΕ ά ΓΡΕΕΝ ΜΑΤΤΕΔ ΜΕΣΣ ('Ω ΒΥΤ ΤΔΥΓ Ί ΆΝΔΡΕΣ ΑΘΗΝΑΊΟΙ) 2 43 ΧΎΤΝΗΒΥΣ) 1 ΥΑΤΧΙΝΓ ΘΕ ΣΤΙΛΛ ΗΟΥΝΔ ΆΝΔ ΘΕ ΚΙΔ ΌΦ ΎΕΤ ΚΟΒΥΕΒΣ ΆΝΔ ΣΕΑΥΕΕΔ ΆΤ ΤΥΙΛΙΓΤ.

etc. Exulta­ tions. W I L L I A M CARLOS W I L L I A M S — " T h e Tempers. W . Ripostes)... TRANSLATIONS: "The Sonnets and Ballate of Guido Cavalcanti. Mifflin. A L L E N UPWARD—Author of "The New W o r d . Chicago. Canzoni. 20 Gt.. Russel St. Boston. The "Scented Leaves" appears in "Poetry" for September 1913. PROSE: "The Spirit of Romance..BIBLIOGRAPHY F . Maynard & Co." etc." Pub­ lished by M a x Goschen. The Canzoni of Arnaut Daniel. Pub­ A M Y L O W E L L — " A Dome of Many Coloured Glass. Dent & Sons. Forty volumes of prose with various pub­ lishers. FORD MADOX HUEFFER — "Collected Poems. 4 Cork St. F L I N T — " T h e Net of the Stars. London. London.. Published by E l k i n Mathews. Boston." A study of mediaeval poetry. F . S. " "The Divine Mystery." Published by E l k i n Mathews. Lon­ don. EZRA POUND — Collected Poems (Personae. 63 ." lished by E l k i n Mathews." Published by Houghton. R . Fine Arts Bldg." Published by Small. Seymour & Co.

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