My Life and Loves, Book 1 by Frank Harris

Author:Frank Harris
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Chapter IX. Student Life and Love

Thatrailway journey to Lawrence, Kansas, is as vivid to me now as if it had taken place yesterday; yet it all happened more than fifty years ago. It was a blazing hot day and in the seat opposite to me was an old grey-haired man who appeared to be much troubled by the heat: he moved about restlessly, mopped his forehead, took off his vest and finally went out, probably to the open observation platform, leaving a couple of books on his seat. I took one of them up heedlessly-it was The Life and Death of Jason, by William Morris. I read a page or two, was surprised by the easy flow of the verse, but not gripped, so I picked up the other volume: Laus Veneris: Poems and Ballads by Algernon Charles Swinburne. It opened at the Ancatoria, and in a moment I was carried away, entranced as no poetry before or since has ever entranced me. Venus herself spoke in the lines: Alas! that neither rain nor snow nor dew Nor all cold things can purge me wholly through, Assuage me nor allay me, nor appease, Till supreme sleep shall bring me bloodless ease, Till Time wax faint in all her periods, Till Fate undo the bondage of the Gods To lay and slake and satiate me all through, Lotus and Lethe on my lips like dew, And shed around and over and under me Thick darkness and the insuperable sea. I haven't seen the poem since and there may be verbal inaccuracies in my version, but the music and passion of the verses enthralled me; and when I came to The Leper, the last stanzas brought hot tears to my eyes; and in the Garden of Proserpine, I heard my own soul speaking with divine if hopeless assurance. Was there ever such poetry? Even the lighter verses were charming: Remembrance may recover And time bring back to time The name of your first lover, The ring of my first rhyme: But rose-leaves of December, The storms of June shall fret; The day that you remember, The day that I forget. And then the gay defiance: In the teeth of the glad salt weather, In the blown wet face of the sea; While three men hold together, Their Kingdoms are less by three. And the divine songs to Hugo and to Whitman and the superb Dedication, the last verse of it a miracle: Though the many lights dwindle to one light, There is help if the Heavens have one; Though the stars be discrowned of the sunlight And the earth dispossessed of the Sun: They have moonlight and sleep for repayment When refreshed as a bride and set free; With stars and sea-winds in her raiment Night sinks on the sea. My very soul was taken; I had no need to read them twice: I've never seen them twice; I shall not forget them so long as this machine lasts. They flooded my eyes with tears, my heart with passionate admiration.

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