The Heptalogia
Public-domain ebook
The Heptalogia
Language: en365 downloads on Project Gutenberg
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Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #18210.
The opening · free to read
The Higher Pantheism in a Nutshell
One, who is not, we see: but one, whom we see not, is: Surely this is not that: but that is assuredly this.
What, and wherefore, and whence? for under is over and under: If thunder could be without lightning, lightning could be without thunder.
Doubt is faith in the main: but faith, on the whole, is doubt: We cannot believe by proof: but could we believe without?
Why, and whither, and how? for barley and rye are not clover: Neither are straight lines curves: yet over is under and over.
Two and two may be four: but four and four are not eight: Fate and God may be twain: but God is the same thing as fate.
Ask a man what he thinks, and get from a man what he feels: God, once caught in the fact, shows you a fair pair of heels.
Body and spirit are twins: God only knows which is which: The soul squats down in the flesh, like a tinker drunk in a ditch.
More is the whole than a part: but half is more than the whole: Clearly, the soul is the body: but is not the body the soul?
One and two are not one: but one and nothing is two: Truth can hardly be false, if falsehood cannot be true.
Once the mastodon was: pterodactyls were common as cocks: Then the mammoth was God: now is He a prize ox.
Parallels all things are: yet many of these are askew: You are certainly I: but certainly I am not you.
Springs the rock from the plain, shoots the stream from the rock: Cocks exist for the hen: but hens exist for the cock.
God, whom we see not, is: and God, who is not, we see: Fiddle, we know, is diddle: and diddle, we take it, is dee.
I
Love me and leave me; what love bids retrieve me? can June's fist grasp May? Leave me and love me; hopes eyed once above me like spring's sprouts decay; Fall as the snow falls, when summer leaves grow false--cards packed for storm's play!
Ii
Nay, say Decay's self be but last May's elf, wing shifted, eye sheathed-- Changeling in April's crib rocked, who lets 'scape rills locked fast since frost breathed-- Skin cast (think!) adder-like, now bloom bursts bladder-like,--bloom frost bequeathed?
Iii
Ah, how can fear sit and hear as love hears it grief's heart's cracked grate's screech? Chance lets the gate sway that opens on hate's way and shews on shame's beach Crouched like an imp sly change watch sweet love's shrimps lie, a toothful in each.
Iv
Time feels his tooth slip on husks wet from Truth's lip, which drops them and grins-- Shells where no throb stirs of life left in lobsters since joy thrilled their fins-- Hues of the prawn's tail or comb that makes dawn stale, so red for our sins!
V
Years blind and deaf use the soul's joys as refuse, heart's peace as manure, Reared whence, next June's rose shall bloom where our moons rose last year, just as pure: Moons' ends match roses' ends: men by beasts' noses' ends mete sin's stink's cure.
Vi
Leaves love last year smelt now feel dead love's tears melt--flies caught in time's mesh! Salt are the dews in which new time breeds new sin, brews blood and stews flesh; Next year may see dead more germs than this weeded and reared them afresh.
Vii
Old times left perish, there's new time to cherish; life just shifts its tune; As, when the day dies, earth, half afraid, eyes the growth of the moon; Love me and save me, take me or waive me; death takes one so soon!
I
Is it daytime (guess), You that feed my soul To excess With that light in those eyes And those curls drawn like a scroll In that round grave guise? No or yes?
Ii
Oh, the end, I'd say! Such a foolish thing (Pure girls' play!) As a mere mute heart, Was it worth a kiss, a ring, This? for two must part-- Not to-day.
Iii
Look, the whole sand crawls, Hums, a heaving hive, Scrapes and scrawls-- Such a buzz and burst! Here just one thing's not alive, One that was at first-- But life palls.
Iv
Yes, my heart, I know, Just my heart's stone dead-- Yes, just so. Sick with heat, those worms Drop down scorched and overfed-- No more need of germs! Let them go.
V
Yes, but you now, look, You, the rouged stage female With a crook, Chalked Arcadian sham, You that made my soul's sleep's dream ail-- Your soul fit to damn? Shut the book.
I
There was nothing at all in the case (conceive) But love; being love, it was not (understand) Such a thing as the years let fall (believe) Like the rope's coil dropt from a fisherman's hand When the boat's hauled up--"by your leave!"
Ii
So--well! How that crab writhes--leg after leg Drawn, as a worm draws ring upon ring Gradually, not gladly! Chicken or egg, Is it more than the ransom (say) of a king (Take my meaning at least) that I beg?
Iii
Not so! You were ready to learn, I think, What the world said! "He loves you too well (suppose) For such leanings! These poets, their love's mere ink-- Like a flower, their flame flashes--a rosebud, blows-- Then it all drops down at a wink!
V
"'His wine that should glorify (saith He) the cup That a man beholding (not tasting) might say "Pour out life at a draught, drain it dry, drink it up, Give this one thing, and huddle the rest away-- Save the bitch, and be hanged to the pup!"
Vi
"'Let it rot then!' which saying, he leaves it--we'll guess, Feels (if the sap move at all) thus much-- Yearns, and would blossom, would quicken no less, Bud at an eye's glance, flower at a touch-- 'Die, perhaps, would you not, for her?'--'Yes!'
Vii
"Note the hitch there! That's piteous--so much being done, (He'll think some day, your lover) so little to do! Such infinite days to wear out, once begun! Since the hand its glove holds, and the footsole its shoe-- Overhead too there's always the sun!"
Viii
Oh, no doubt they had said so, your friends--been profuse Of good counsel, wise hints--"where the trap lurks, walk warily-- Squeeze the fruit to the core ere you count on the juice! For the graft may fail, shift, wax, change colour, wane, vary, lie--" You were cautious, God knows--to what use?
Ix
This crab's wiser, it strikes me--no twist but implies life-- Not a curl but's so fit you could find none fitter-- For the brute from its brutehood looks up thus and eyes life-- Stoop your soul down and listen, you'll hear it twitter, Laughing lightly,--my crab's life's the wise life!
X
Those who've read S. T. Coleridge remember how Sammy sighs To his pensive (I think he says) Sara--"most soothing-sweet"-- Crab's bulk's less (look!) than man's--yet (quoth Cancer) I am my size, And my bulk's girth contents me! Man's maw (see?) craves two things-- wheat And flesh likewise--man's gluttonous--damn his eyes!
Xi
Crab's content with crab's provender: crab's love, if soothing, Is no sweeter than pincers are soft--and a new sickle Cuts no sharper than crab's claws nip, keen as boar's toothing! Yet crab's love's no less fervent than bard's, if less musical-- 'Tis a new thing I'd lilt--but a true thing.
Xii
Old songs tell us, of all drinks for Englishmen fighting, ale's Out and out best: salt water contents crab, it seems to me, Though pugnacious as sailors, and skilled to steer right in gales That craze pilots, if slow to sing--"Sleep'st thou? thou dream'st o' me!" In such love-strains as mine--or a nightingale's.
Xiii
Ah, now, look you--tail foremost, the beast sets seaward-- The sea draws it, sand sucks it--he's wise, my crab! From the napkin out jumps his one talent--good steward, Just judge! So a man shirks the smile or the stab, And sets his sail duly to leeward!
Xiv
Trust me? Hardly! I bid you not lean (remark) On my spirit, your spirit--my flesh, your flesh-- Hold my hand, and tread safe through the horrible dark-- Quench my soul as with sprinklings of snow, then refresh With some blast of new bellows the spark!
Xv
By no means! This were easy (men tell me) to say-- "Give her all, throw your chance up, fall back on her heart!" (Say my friends) "she must change! after night follows day--" No such fool! I am safe set in hell, for my part-- So let heaven do the worst now he may!
Xvi
What they bid me? Well, this, nothing more--"Tell her this-- 'You are mine, I yours, though the whole world fail-- Though things are not, I know there is one thing which is-- Though the oars break, there's hope for us yet--hoist the sail! Oh, your heart! what's the heart? but your kiss!'
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