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- THE DOUBLE VISION OF MICHAEL ROBARTES
- I
- ON the grey rock of Cashel the mind's eye
- Has called up the cold spirits that are born
- When the old moon is vanished from the sky
- And the new still hides her horn.
- Under blank eyes and fingers never still
- The particular is pounded till it is man.
- When had I my own will?
- O not since life began.
- Constrained, arraigned, baffled, bent and unbent
- By these wire-jointed jaws and limbs of wood,
- Themselves obedient,
- Knowing not evil and good;
- Obedient to some hidden magical breath.
- They do not even feel, so abstract are they.
- So dead beyond our death,
- Triumph that we obey.
- On the grey rock of Cashel I suddenly saw
- A Sphinx with woman breast and lion paw.
- A Buddha, hand at rest,
- Hand lifted up that blest;
- And right between these two a girl at play
- That, it may be, had danced her life away,
- For now being dead it seemed
- That she of dancing dreamed.
- Although I saw it all in the mind's eye
- There can be nothing solider till I die;
- I saw by the moon's light
- Now at its fifteenth night.
- One lashed her tail; her eyes lit by the moon
- Gazed upon all things known, all things unknown,
- In triumph of intellect
- With motionless head erect.
- That other's moonlit eyeballs never moved,
- Being fixed on all things loved, all things unloved.
- Yet little peace he had,
- For those that love are sad.
- Little did they care who danced between,
- And little she by whom her dance was seen
- So she had outdanced thought.
- Body perfection brought,
- For what but eye and ear silence the mind
- With the minute particulars of mankind?
- Mind moved yet seemed to stop
- As 'twere a spinning-top.
- In contemplation had those three so wrought
- Upon a moment, and so stretched it out
- That they, time overthrown,
- Were dead yet flesh and bone.
- I knew that I had seen, had seen at last
- That girl my unremembering nights hold fast
- Or else my dreams that fly
- If I should rub an eye,
- And yet in flying fling into my meat
- A crazy juice that makes the pulses beat
- As though I had been undone
- By Homer's Paragon
- Who never gave the burning town a thought;
- To such a pitch of folly I am brought,
- Being caught between the pull
- Of the dark moon and the full,
- The commonness of thought and images
- That have the frenzy of our western seas.
- Thereon I made my moan,
- And after kissed a stone,
- And after that arranged it in a song
- Seeing that I, ignorant for So long,
- Had been rewarded thus
- In Cormac's ruined house.
-
- MICHAEL ROBARTES AND THE DANCER
-
- i{He.} Opinion is not worth a rush;
- In this altar-piece the knight,
- Who grips his long spear so to push
- That dragon through the fading light,
- Loved the lady; and it's plain
- The half-dead dragon was her thought,
- That every morning rose again
- And dug its claws and shrieked and fought.
- Could the impossible come to pass
- She would have time to turn her eyes,
- Her lover thought, upon the glass
- And on the instant would grow wise.
- i{She.} You mean they argued.
- i{He.} Put it so;
- But bear in mind your lover's wage
- Is what your looking-glass can show,
- And that he will turn green with rage
- At all that is not pictured there.
- i{She.} May I not put myself to college?
- i{He.} Go pluck Athene by the hair;
- For what mere book can grant a knowledge
- With an impassioned gravity
- Appropriate to that beating breast,
- That vigorous thigh, that dreaming eye?
- And may the Devil take the rest.
- i{She.} And must no beautiful woman be
- Learned like a man?
- i{He.} Paul Veronese
- And all his sacred company
- Imagined bodies all their days
- By the lagoon you love so much,
- For proud, soft, ceremonious proof
- That all must come to sight and touch;
- While Michael Angelo's Sistine roof,
- His "Morning' and his "Night' disclose
- How sinew that has been pulled tight,
- Or it may be loosened in repose,
- Can rule by supernatural right
- Yet be but sinew.
- i{She.} I have heard said
- There is great danger in the body.
- i{He.} Did God in portioning wine and bread
- Give man His thought or His mere body?
- i{She.} My wretched dragon is perplexed.
- i{Hec.} I have principles to prove me right.
- It follows from this Latin text
- That blest souls are not composite,
- And that all beautiful women may
- Live in uncomposite blessedness,
- And lead us to the like -- if they
- Will banish every thought, unless
- The lineaments that please their view
- When the long looking-glass is full,
- Even from the foot-sole think it too.
- i{She.} They say such different things at school.
-