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- A DIALOGUE OF SELF AND SOUL
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- i{My Soul} I summon to the winding ancient stair;
- Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,
- Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,
- Upon the breathless starlit air,
- "Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
- Fix every wandering thought upon
- That quarter where all thought is done:
- Who can distinguish darkness from the soul
- i{My Self}. The consecretes blade upon my knees
- Is Sato's ancient blade, still as it was,
- Still razor-keen, still like a looking-glass
- Unspotted by the centuries;
- That flowering, silken, old embroidery, torn
- From some court-lady's dress and round
- The wodden scabbard bound and wound
- Can, tattered, still protect, faded adorn
- i{My Soul.} Why should the imagination of a man
- Long past his prime remember things that are
- Emblematical of love and war?
- Think of ancestral night that can,
- If but imagination scorn the earth
- And interllect is wandering
- To this and that and t'other thing,
- Deliver from the crime of death and birth.
- i{My self.} Montashigi, third of his family, fashioned it
- Five hundred years ago, about it lie
- Flowers from I know not what embroidery --
- Heart's purple -- and all these I set
- For emblems of the day against the tower
- Emblematical of the night,
- And claim as by a soldier's right
- A charter to commit the crime once more.
- i{My Soul.} Such fullness in that quarter overflows
- And falls into the basin of the mind
- That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind,
- For intellect no longer knows
- i{Is} from the i{Ought,} or i{knower} from the i{Known -- }
- That is to say, ascends to Heaven;
- Only the dead can be forgiven;
- But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.
- i{My Self.} A living man is blind and drinks his drop.
- What matter if the ditches are impure?
- What matter if I live it all once more?
- Endure that toil of growing up;
- The ignominy of boyhood; the distress
- Of boyhood changing into man;
- The unfinished man and his pain
- Brought face to face with his own clumsiness;
- The finished man among his enemies? --
- How in the name of Heaven can he escape
- That defiling and disfigured shape
- The mirror of malicious eyes
- Casts upon his eyes until at last
- He thinks that shape must be his shape?
- And what's the good of an escape
- If honour find him in the wintry blast?
- I am content to live it all again
- And yet again, if it be life to pitch
- Into the frog-spawn of a blind man's ditch,
- A blind man battering blind men;
- Or into that most fecund ditch of all,
- The folly that man does
- Or must suffer, if he woos
- A proud woman not kindred of his soul.
- I am content to follow to its source
- Every event in action or in thought;
- Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!
- When such as I cast out remorse
- So great a sweetness flows into the breast
- We must laugh and we must sing,
- We are blest by everything,
- Everything we look upon is blest.
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