“I must not be in public with you, dear, Whose name and greatness in the world would point To our relationship, how could it be You would be with a woman without station, Celebrity or wealth, except for this? These others are a blind.” I could not solve Out of the whirling clouds of passion truth-- My days were tortured, in the dreams of sleep I saw this dragon head I told you of. And so through heavy venery, and dread, And anger, doubt, faith, love and much of hate, I took to drink. So drinking with her once, For she could drink me blind, I turned and said: “You say I am the first, I think you lie.” She wailed a flood of tears. A hundred eyes Turned on us in the café where we sat. We left and walked the park. I goaded her, Pried out the secret. Why, at twenty-three She had become the mistress of a man. It ended just six months before she came To see me in my suite. Now here I was: To hold on to myself I had to hold This woman, win her wholly, crush her soul, Destroy her so she would no longer be My heart’s desire. For I had given all. And I could see she valued it the less As time went on. My name, what was it now? My art, what was it now? She even hinted I could not act Othello. There was nothing I could do more to keep her, hold her love, Her admiration. O how good esteem Seems to a man who forfeits it to her Whose body he can have, who cannot have That sympathy whereby a man is nerved To daily work and living. What is Art? No picture would be painted, poem sung Save for the thought that woman close at hand, Or somewhere in the world yet to be found By reason of the picture or the poem, Will see and love you for it. Let me say In passing, and dismiss it, I began With little sums until I gave her much. There’s matter of more moment. I confess, In spite of my licentious life, the creed One sees among the artists, where I’ve lived, To strong belief in woman’s virtue, yes, In spite of lip avowal of the faith Of love called free, I have not quite believed it. But it was in her soul. She sucked that milk, A child upon her mother’s breast, she said-- It all came out at last from many talks, And then, just then, I thought I saw foreshadowed A social change upon the things of sex: We read together Ann Veronica, And Bernard Shaw, and laughed and said, at last We see each other clearly. We have found A footing for our life. I slept at last. The dragon vanished from my dreams. I waked A song upon my lips, left drink alone, Could face my image in the looking-glass, And find restored a noble quality, A strength and genius.