And Barrett Bays, now warmed up to his work, Grown calmer, stronger, mind returned, that found Full courage for the thought, the word to say it Recurred to Elenor Murray, analyzed:-- And now a final word: "This Elenor Murray, What was she, just a woman, a little life Swept in the war and broken? If no more, She is not worth these words: She is the symbol Of our America, perhaps this world This side of India, of America At least she is the symbol. What was she? A restlessness, a hunger, and a zeal; A hope for goodness, and a tenderness; A love, a sorrow, and a venturing will; A dreamer fooled but dreaming still, a vision That followed lures that fled her, generous, loving, But also avid and insatiable; An egoism chained and starved too long That breaks away and runs; a cruelty, A wilfulness, a dealer in false weights, And measures of herself, her duty, others, A lust, a slick hypocrisy and a faith Faithless and hollow. But at last I say She taught me, saved me for myself, and turned My steps upon the path of making self As much as I can make myself--my thanks To Elenor Murray!" "For that day I saw The war for what it was, and saw myself An artificial factor, working there Because of Elenor Murray--what a fool! I was not really needed, like too many Was just pretending, though I did not know That I was just pretending, saw myself Swept in this mad procession by a woman; And through myself I saw the howling mob Back in America that shouted hate, In God's name, all the carriers of flags, The superheated patriots who did nothing, Gave nothing but the clapping of their hands, And shouts for freedom of the seas. The souls Who hated freedom on the sea or earth, Had, as the vile majority, set up Intolerable tyrannies in America, America that launched herself without A God or faith, but in the name of man And for humanity, so long accursed By Gods and priests--the vile majority! Which in the war, and through the war went on With other tyrannies as to meat and drink, Thought, speech, the mind in living--here was I One of the vile majority through a woman-- And serving in the war because of her, And meretricious sentiments of her. You see I had the madness of the world, Was just as crazy as America. And like America must wake from madness And suffer, and regret, and build again. My soul was soiled, you see. And now I saw How she had pressed her lips against my soul And sapped my spirit in the name of beauty She simulated; for a loyalty Her lips averred; how as a courtesan She had made soft my tissues, like an apple Handled too much; how vision of me went Into her life sucked forth; how never a word Which ever came from her interpreted In terms of worth the war; how she had coiled Her serpent loins about me; how she draped Herself in ardors borrowed; how my arms