Ah, Koelue! Had you embalmed your beauty, so It could not backward go, Or change in any way, What were the use, if on my eyes The embalming spices were not laid To keep us fixed, Two amorous sculptures passioned endlessly? What were the use, if my sight grew, And its far branches were cloud-hung, You small at the roots, like grass, While the new lips my spirit would kiss Were not red lips of flesh, But the huge kiss of power? Where yesterday soft hair through my fingers fell, A shaggy mane would entwine, And no slim form work fire to my thighs, But human Life's inarticulate mass Throb the pulse of a thing Whose mountain flanks awry Beg my mastery--mine! Ah! I will ride the dizzy beast of the world My road--my way! * * * * * ROBERT NICHOLS TO---- Asleep within the deadest hour of night And turning with the earth, I was aware How suddenly the eastern curve was bright, As when the sun arises from his lair. But not the sun arose: it was thy hair Shaken up heaven in tossing leagues of light. Since then I know that neither night nor day May I escape thee, O my heavenly hell! Awake, in dreams, thou springest to waylay; And should I dare to die, I know full well Whose voice would mock me in the mourning bell, Whose face would greet me in hell's fiery way. THE ASSAULT The beating of the guns grows louder. 'Not long, boys, now'. My heart burns whiter, fearfuller, prouder. Hurricanes grow As guns redouble their fire. Through the shaken periscope peeping, I glimpse their wire: Black earth, fountains of earth rise, leaping, Spouting like shocks of meeting waves, Death's fountains are playing, Shells like shrieking birds rush over; Crash and din rises higher. A stream of lead raves Over us from the left ... (we safe under cover!) Crash! Reverberation! Crash! Acrid smoke billowing. Flash upon flash. Black smoke drifting. The German line Vanishes in confusion, smoke. Cries, and cry Of our men, 'Gah, yer swine! Ye're for it', die In a hurricane of shell. One cry: 'We're comin' soon! look out!' There is opened hell Over there; fragments fly, Rifles and bits of men whirled at the sky: Dust, smoke, thunder! A sudden bout Of machine guns chattering ... And redoubled battering, As if in fury at their daring!... No good staring. Time soon now ... home ... house on a sunny hill ... Gone like a flickered page: Time soon now ... zero ... will engage.... A sudden thrill-- 'Fix bayonets!' Gods! we have our fill Of fear, hysteria, exultation, rage, Rage to kill. My heart burns hot, whiter and whiter, Contracts tighter and tighter, Until I stifle with the will Long forged, now used (Though utterly strained)-- O pounding heart, Baffled, confused, Heart panged, head singing, dizzily pained-- To do my part.