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弌傍�� dreams & dust 忖方�� 耽匈4000忖

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The little stars�察�the lonely stars��

  Stole through the hollow sky��

And every sucking eddy where

The waves lapped wharf or rotten stair

Moaned like some stricken thing hid there

And strangled with its own despair

  As the shuddering tide crept by。



I loved her�察�and I hated her

  Or did I hate myself because��

  Bound by obscure�察�strong�察�silken laws��

I felt myself the worshiper

  Of beauty never wholly mine��

With lures most apt to snare�察�entwine��

With bonds too subtle to define��

Her lighter nature mastered mine��

Herself half given�察�half withheld��

Her lesser spirit still compelled

Its tribute from my franker soul��

  Sorebel�察�slave�察�and worshiper��

  I loved her and I hated her。



I gazed upon her�察�I�察�her thrall��

  And musing�察�murmured�察�What if death



Were just the answer to it all��

  Suppose some dainty dagger quaffed

  Her life in one deep eager draught��

Suppose some amorous knife caressed

The lovely hollow of her breast�拭�

She turned a mocking look to mine��

She read the thought within my eyne��

  She held me with her lookand laughed��



Now who may tell what stirs�察�controls��

  And shapes mad fancies into facts��

What trivial things may quicken souls

  To irrevocable�察�swift acts��

Now who has known�察�who understood��

  Wherefore some idle thing

  May stab with deadlier sting

Than well´considered insult could��

May spur the languor of a mood

And rouse a tiger in the blood��



Ah�察�Christ��had she not laughed just when

That fancy came�  � 。 。 for then 。 。 。 and then 。 。 。

  A sudden mist dropped from the sky��



A mist swept in across the sea 。 。 。

A mist that hid her face from me 。 。 。

  A weeping mist all tinged with red��

A dripping mist that smelt like blood 。 。 。

  It choked my throat�察�it burnt my brain 。 。 。

And through it peered one sallow star��

  And through it rang one shriek of pain 。 。 。

And when it passed my hands were red��

  My soul was dabbled with her blood��

And when it passed my love was dead

  And tossed upon the troubled flood。





III



MOONSET



But see�  � 。 。 the body does not sink��

  It rides upon the tide

��A starbeam on the dagger's haft����

  With staring eyes and wide 。 。 。

And now�察�up from the darkling sea��

  Down from the failing moon��

Are come strange shapes to mock at me 。 。 。

All pallid from the star´pale sea��

  White from the paling moon 。 。 。



Or whirling fast or wheeling slow

Around�察�around the corpse they go��

All bloodless o'er the sickened sea

  Beneath the ailing moon��



And are they only wisps of fog

  That dance along the waves��

Only shapes of mist the wind

  Drives along the waves��

Or are they spirits that the sea

  Has cheated of their graves��

The ghosts of them that died at sea��

Of murdered men flung in the sea��

  Whose bodies had no graves��

Lost souls that haunt for evermore

The sobbing reef and hollowed shore

  And always´murmuring caves��



Ah�察�surely something more than fog��

  More than starlit mist��

For starlight never makes a sound

  And fogs are ever whist

But hearken�察�hearken�察�hearken�察�now��

  For these sing as they dance��



As airily�察�as eerily��

  They wheel about and whirl��

They jeer at me�察�they fleer at me��

  They flout me as they swirl��

As whirling fast or swaying slow��

Reeling�察�wheeling�察�to and fro��

Around�察�around the corpse they go��

  They chill me with their chants��

These be neither men nor mists

  Hearken to their chants��



Ever�察�ever�察�ever��

  Drifting like a blossom

Seaward�察�with the starlight

  Wan upon her bosom

Ever when the quickened

  Heart of night is throbbing��

Ever when the trembling

  Tide sets seaward�察�sobbing��

Shall you see this burden

  Borne upon its ebbing��

See her drifting seaward

  Like a broken blossom��



Ever see the starlight

  Kiss her bruised bosom。



Flight availeth nothing 。 。 。

  Still the subtle beaches

Draw you back where Horror

  Walks their shingled reaches 。 。 。

Ever shall your spirit

  Hear the surf resounding��

Evermore the ocean

  Thwarting you and bounding��

Vainly struggle inland��

  Lashing you and hounding��

Still the vision hales you

  From the upland reaches��

Goading you and gripping��

  Binds you to the beaches��



Ever�察�ever�察�ever��

  Ever shall her laughter��

Hunting you and haunting��

  Mock and follow after��

Rising where the buoy´bell

  Clangs across the shallows��



Leaping where the spindrift

  Hurtles o'er the hollows��

Ringing where the moonlight

  Gleams along the billows��

Ever�察�ever�察�ever��

  Ever shall her laughter��

Hounding you and haunting��

  Whip and follow after��





IV



SUNSET



I stood among the boats

The sinking sun�察�the angry sun��

  Across the sullen wave

Laid the sudden strength of his red wrath

  Like to a shaken glaive��

Or did the sun pause in the west

  To lift a sword at me��

  Or was it she�察�or was it she��

Rose for an instant on some crest

And plucked the red blade from her breast

  And brandished it at me��





THE TAVERN OF DESPAIR



THE wraiths of murdered hopes and loves

  Come whispering at the door��

Come creeping through the weeping mist

  That drapes the barren moor��

But we within have turned the key

  'Gainst Hope and Love and Care��

Where Wit keeps tryst with Folly�察�at

  The Tavern of Despair。



And we have come by divers ways

  To keep this merry tryst��

But few of us have kept within

  The Narrow Way�察�I wist��

For we are those whose ampler wits

  And hearts have proved our curse

Foredoomed to ken the better things

  And aye to do the worse��



Long since we learned to mock ourselves��

  And from self´mockery fell



To heedless laughter in the face

  Of Heaven�察�Earth�察�and Hell。

We quiver 'neath�察�and mock�察�God's rod��

  We feel�察�and mock�察�His wrath��

We mock our own blood on the thorns

  That rim the ;Primrose Path。;



We mock the eerie glimmering shapes

  That range the outer wold��

We mock our own cold hearts because

  They are so dead and cold��

We flout the things we might have been

  Had self to self proved true��

We mock the roses flung away��

  We mock the garnered rue��



The fates that gibe have lessoned us��

  There sups to´night on earth

No madder crew of wastrels than

  This fellowship of mirth。 。 。 。

��Of mirth 。 。 。 drink�察�fools��nor let it flag

  Lest from the outer mist

Creep in that other company

  Unbidden to the tryst。



We're grown so fond of paradox

  Perverseness holds us thrall��

So what each jester loves the best

  He mocks the most of all��

But as the jest and laugh go round��

  Each in his neighbor's eyes

Reads�察�while he flouts his heart's desire��

  The knowledge that he lies。



Not one of us but had some pearls

  And flung them to the swine��

Not one of us but had some gift

  Some spark of fire divine

Each might have been God's minister

  In the temple of some art

Each feels his gift perverted move

  Wormlike through his dry heart。



If God called Azrael to Him now

  And bade Death bend the bow

Against the saddest heart that beats

  Here on this earth below��

Not any sobbing breast would gain

  The guerdon of that barb



The saddest ones are those that wear

  The jester's motley garb。



Whose shout aye loudest rings�察�and whose

  The maddest cranks and quips

Who mints his soul to laughter's coin

  And wastes it with his lips

Has grown too sad for sighs and seeks

  To cheat himself with mirth��

We fools self´doomed to motley are

  The weariest wights on earth��



But yet�察�for us whose brains and hearts

  Strove aye in paths perverse��

Doomed still to know the better things

  And still to do the worse��

What else is there remains for us

  But make a jest of care

And set the rafters ringing�察�in

  Our Tavern of Despair��









COLORS AND SURFACES











A GOLDEN LAD



��D。 V。 M。��



;Golden lads and lasses must

 Like chimney´sweepers come to dust。;

SHAKESPEARE。



So young�察�but already the splendor

  Of genius robed him about

Already the dangerous�察�tender

  Regard of the gods marked him out



��On whom the burden and duty

  They bind�察�at his earliest breath��

Of showing their own grave beauty��

  They love and they crown with death。��



We were of one blood�察�but the olden

  Rapt poets spake out in his tone��

We were of one blood�察�but the golden

  Rathe promise was his�察�his alone。



And ever his great eye glistened

  With visions I could not see��

Ever he thrilled and listened

  To voices withholden from me。



Young lord of the realms of fancy��

  The bright dreams flocked to his call

Like sprites that the necromancy

  Of a Prospero holds in thrall



Quick visions that served and attended��

  Elusive and hovering things��

With a quiver of 

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