Part 8

Yet, my love, Think out what causes judgments, standards, tastes; And why it was that Southey, Wordsworth won The organic national praise and Shelley lost, And Byron lost it--Southey the sycophant, Wordsworth the dull adherent, renegade-- These two against these spirits who came here To sing of Liberty--and look at me, A wanderer and a poor, rejected man, While usurers, slave owners rule the land, And the cities reek with hypocrites, who step On Freedom and on Beauty, are rewarded, Praised, fed and honored for it. Then behold Your friend who loves you, hunted, buffeted, For a little drink, when in spite of drink and even Because of drink, who knows? I have achieved, Written these books. And what is life beside, Whether with drink or whether with abstinence, Except to sing your song and die, what course Can stave the event, the wage of life, not sin? Oh if you knew what love I have for you! All of my powers are not enough to tell How all my heart is yours, how I have found Eternal things through you, cannot surrender Your love, your heart, without I lose some life, Some vital part of me--and yet farewell, For you have willed it so, and I submit. I rise up in my loneliness, seek the sun To shine about me in my loneliness, Submit and say farewell."

He spoke some words! What was it that he said? His head rolls over. The man is dead! What was it that he said? Something about "no more" it seemed to me. Whom shall we notify? Go tell the police! Here! wait, I overlooked some writing--yes, A name is on this letter--why, look here, It's EDGAR ALLAN POE!--I know that name-- He wrote a poem once about sleigh bells-- His brow looks whiter, bigger than it did. Cover him with a sheet--I'll tell the police!

NEITHER FAITH NOR BEAUTY CAN REMAIN

Neither faith nor beauty can remain: Change is our life from hour to hour, Pain follows after pain, As ruined flower lies down with ruined flower.

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Now you are mine. But in a day to be Beyond the seas, in cities strange and new To-day will be a memory Of a day ephemerally true.

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Last night with cheek pressed close to cheek Through the brief hours we slept. It must be always so, I heard you speak, Love found, forever must be kept.

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But already we were changed, even as the day Invisibly transforms its light. We prayed together then for dawn's delay, Praying, praying through the night.

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Against the change which takes all loveliness, The truth our desperate hearts would keep, The memory to be, when comfortless, Save for the memory we shall yearn for sleep;

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Against the sinking flame which no more lights Our faces, neither any more desired Through desireless days and nights, And senses fast expiring and expired.

THE END

Printed in the United States of America.

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Transcriber's Notes: Inconsistent hyphenation left as is. pg vii Shakespeare changed to Shakspeare for consistency pg 48 martydom changed to martyrdom