Tell her that goes With song upon her lips But sings not out the song, nor knows The maker of it, some other mouth, May be as fair as hers, Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers, When our two dusts with Waller's shall be laid, Siftings on siftings in oblivion, Till change hath broken down All things save Beauty alone. 1920 (MAUBERLEY) I. TURNED from the "eau-forte Par Jaquemart" To the strait head Of Mcssalina: "His true Penelope Was Flaubert", And his tool The engraver's Firmness, Not the full smile, His art, but an art In profile; Colourless Pier Francesca, Pisanello lacking the skill To forge Achaia. II. _"Qu'est ce qu'ils savent de l'amour, et gu'est ce qu'ils peuvent comprendre? S'ils ne comprennent pas la poèsie, s'ils ne sentent pas la musique, qu'est ce qu'ils peuvent comprendre de cette pas- sion en comparaison avec laquelle la rose est grossière et le parfum des violettes un tonnerre?"_ CAID ALI FOR three years, diabolus in the scale, He drank ambrosia, All passes, ANANGKE prevails, Came end, at last, to that Arcadia. He had moved amid her phantasmagoria, Amid her galaxies, NUKTIS AGALMA Drifted....drifted precipitate, Asking time to be rid of.... Of his bewilderment; to designate His new found orchid.... To be certain....certain... (Amid aerial flowers)..time for arrangements-- Drifted on To the final estrangement; Unable in the supervening blankness To sift TO AGATHON from the chaff Until he found his seive... Ultimately, his seismograph: --Given, that is, his urge To convey the relation Of eye-lid and cheek-bone By verbal manifestation; To present the series Of curious heads in medallion-- He had passed, inconscient, full gaze, The wide-banded irises And botticellian sprays implied In their diastasis; Which anæsthesis, noted a year late, And weighed, revealed his great affect, (Orchid), mandate Of Eros, a retrospect. . . . Mouths biting empty air, The still stone dogs, Caught in metamorphosis were, Left him as epilogues. "THE AGE DEMANDED" VIDE POEM II. FOR this agility chance found Him of all men, unfit As the red-beaked steeds of The Cytheræan for a chain-bit. The glow of porcelain Brought no reforming sense To his perception Of the social inconsequence. Thus, if her colour Came against his gaze, Tempered as if It were through a perfect glaze He made no immediate application Of this to relation of the state To the individual, the month was more temperate Because this beauty had been ...... The coral isle, the lion-coloured sand Burst in upon the porcelain revery: Impetuous troubling Of his imagery. ...... Mildness, amid the neo-Neitzschean clatter, His sense of graduations, Quite out of place amid Resistance to current exacerbations