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Page 114 - He took the suffering human race, He read each wound, each weakness clear; And struck his finger on the place, And said : Thou ailest here, and here...
Page 36 - Authors — essayist, atheist, novelist, realist, rhymester, play your part, \ Paint the mortal shame of nature with the living hues of Art. Rip your brothers' vices open, strip your own foul passions bare ; Down with Reticence, down with Reverence — forward — naked — let them stare. Feed the budding rose of boyhood with the drainage of your sewer ; Send the drain into the fountain, lest the stream should issue pure. Set the maiden fancies wallowing in the troughs of Zolaism, — Forward, forward,...
Page 207 - Whence pluck they brain, her prize of gifts, Sky of the senses! on which height, Not disconnected, yet released, They see how spirit comes to light, Through conquest of the inner beast, Which Measure tames to movement sane, In harmony with what is fair. Never is Earth misread by brain: That is the welling of her, there The mirror: with one step beyond, For likewise is it voice...
Page 204 - And is a tangle round, Are patient; what is dumb We question not, nor ask The silent to give sound, The hidden to unmask, The distant to draw near. And this the woodland saith: I know not hope or fear ; I take whate'er may come; I raise my head to aspects fair, From foul I turn away.
Page 67 - And io, there came from out the skies Butterflies all blue. Before she guessed her heart was gone; The tale of love was swiftly told; And all about her wheeled and shone Butterflies all gold. Then he forsook her one sad morn; She wept and sobbed, "Oh, love, come back!
Page 216 - STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 GENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE.
Page 206 - Whispered the world was; morning light is she. Love that so desires would fain keep her changeless; Fain would fling the net, and fain have her free.
Page 213 - He states fact in terms of poetry, and the statement sears one's consciousness. He is the first poet to digest the new wonders of science which have subtly changed the old cosmogony, and made the very foundations of existence crumble away.' That is why I myself wrote : 'The relation of John Davidson's thought to Nietzsche's is more important than all the drivel about "Home, Sweet Home" four million cretins iterate.