Fragments
In that fair capital where Pleasure, crownedAmidst her myriad courtiers, riots and rules,I too have been a suitor. Radiant eyesWere my life's warmth and sunshine, outspread armsMy gilded deep horizons. I rejoicedIn yielding to all amorous influenceAnd multiple impulsion of the flesh,To feel within my being surge and swayThe force that all the stars acknowledge too.Amid the nebulous humanityWhere I an atom crawled and cleaved and sundered,I saw a million motions, but one law;And from the city's splendor to my eyesThe vapors passed and there was nought but Love,A ferment turbulent, intensely fair,Where Beauty beckoned and where Strength pursued.
II
There was a time when I thought much of Fame,And laid the golden edifice to beThat in the clear light of eternityShould fitly house the glory of my name.
But swifter than my fingers pushed their plan,Over the fair foundation scarce begun,While I with lovers dallied in the sun,The ivy clambered and the rose-vine ran.
And now, too late to see my vision, rise,In place of golden pinnacles and towers,Only some sunny mounds of leaves and flowers,Only beloved of birds and butterflies.
My friends were duped, my favorers deceived;But sometimes, musing sorrowfully there,That flowered wreck has seemed to me so fairI scarce regret the temple unachieved.
III
For there were nights . . . my love to him whose browHas glistened with the spoils of nights like those,Home turning as a conqueror turns home,What time green dawn down every street uprearsArches of triumph! He has drained as wellJoy's perfumed bowl and cried as I have cried:Be Fame their mistress whom Love passes by.This only matters: from some flowery bed,Laden with sweetness like a homing bee,If one have known what bliss it is to come,Bearing on hands and breast and laughing lipsThe fragrance of his youth's dear rose. To himThe hills have bared their treasure, the far cloudsUnveiled the vision that o'er summer seasDrew on his thirsting arms. This last thing known,He can court danger, laugh at perilous odds,And, pillowed on a memory so sweet,Unto oblivious eternityWithout regret yield his victorious soul,The blessed pilgrim of a vow fulfilled.
IV
What is Success? Out of the endless oreOf deep desire to coin the utmost goldOf passionate memory; to have lived so wellThat the fifth moon, when it swims up once moreThrough orchard boughs where mating orioles buildAnd apple flowers unfold,Find not of that dear need that all things tellThe heart unburdened nor the arms unfilled.
O Love, whereof my boyhood was the dream,My youth the beautiful novitiate,Life was so slight a thing and thou so great,How could I make thee less than all-supreme!In thy sweet transports not alone I thoughtMingled the twain that panted breast to breast.The sun and stars throbbed with them; they were caughtInto the pulse of Nature and possessedBy the same light that consecrates it so.Love! -- 'tis the payment of the debt we oweThe beauty of the world, and whensoe'erIn silks and perfume and unloosened hairThe loveliness of lovers, face to face,Lies folded in the adorable embrace,Doubt not as of a perfect sacrificeThat soul partakes whose inspiration fillsThe springtime and the depth of summer skies,The rainbow and the clouds behind the hills,That excellence in earth and air and seaThat makes things as they are the real divinity.
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