We never heard her speak in haste: Her tones were sweet, As it was meet : And concourse of the street. No hurry in her feet; That she might run to greet. Wasting upon her bed : That she is dead? But crown her royal head. 1 a fur much esteemed in ancient times THE LOWEST PLACE Summer or Winter for aught I can say ; So blind was I to see and to foresee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom yet for many a May. A day of days! I let it come and go As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; It seemed to mean so little, meant so much; If only now I could recall that touch, First touch of hand in hand Did one but know! Give me the lowest place: not that I dare Ask for that lowest place, but Thou hast died That I might live and share Thy glory by Thy side. IO Give me the lowest place: or if for me low 8 REMEMBER JAMES THOMSON (1834–1882) FROM THE CITY OF DREADFUL NIGHT Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; hand, You tell me of our future that you planned: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while 9 And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad. As I came through the desert thus it was, But I strode on austere; a REST As I came through the desert thus it was, But I strode on austere; O Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; Earth; mirth With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs. She hath no questions, she hath no replies, Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth Of all that irked her from the hour of birth; With stillness that is almost Paradise. Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her, Silence more musical than any song; Even her very heart has ceased to stir: Until the morning of Eternity Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be; And when she wakes she will not think it long As I came through the desert thus it was, fro; A Sabbath of the Serpents, heaped pell-mell For Devil's roll-call and some fête of Hell : Yet I strode on austere; IO As I came through the desert thus it was, span; I 2 12 Give a man a girl he can love, would beset him at the same moment, always As I, O my Love, love thee; with this desperate certitude fixed in his spirit : And his heart is great with the pulse of Fate, Among all the expressions in the world, all At home, on land, on sea. forms and turns of expression, there is but one one form, one mode - to express what I want to say." ART The one word for the one thing, the one thought, amid the multitude of words, terms, II that might just do: the problem of style was If you have a carrier-dove there ! — the unique word, phrase, sentence, That can fly over land and sea; paragraph, essay, or song, absolutely proper And a message for your Love, to the single mental presentation or vision “Lady, I love but thee!” 4 within. In that perfect justice, over and above the many contingent and removable And this dove will never stir beauties with which beautiful style may But straight from her to you, charm us, but which it can exist without, And straight from you to her; independent of them yet dexterously availing As you know an she knows too. 8 itself of them, omnipresent in good work, in function at every point, from single epithets Will you first ensure, 0 sage, to the rhythm of a whole book, lay the Your dove that never tires specific, indispensable, very intellectual, With your message in a cage, beauty of literature, the possibility of which Though a cage of golden wires ? constitutes it a fine art. One seems to detect the influence of a philoOr will you fling your dove: sophic idea there, the idea of a natural econ"Fly, darling, without rest, omy, of some preëxistent adaptation, between Over land and sea to my Love, a relative, somewhere in the world of thought, And fold your wings in her breast ?" 16 and its correlative, somewhere in the world of language — both alike, rather, somewhere in the mind of the artist, desiderative, expectant, WALTER PATER (1839-1894) inventive--meeting each other with the readi ness of “soul and body reunited,” in Blake's! FROM STYLE rapturous design; and, in fact, Flaubert was fond of giving his theory philosophical expression. “There are no beautiful thoughts,” he What, then, did Flaubert' understand by would say, “without beautiful forms, and beauty, in the art he pursued with so much conversely. As it is impossible to extract fervour, with so much self-command? Let us from a physical body the qualities which hear a sympathetic commentator : really constitute it -- colour, extension, and “Possessed of an absolute belief that there the like without reducing it to a hollow exists but one way of expressing one thing, one abstraction, in a word, without destroying it; word to call it by, one adjective to qualify, just so it is impossible to detach the form one verb to animate it, he gave himself to from the idea, for the idea only exists by superhuman labour for the discovery, in every virtue of the form." phrase, of that word, that verb, that epithet. All the recognised flowers, the removable In this way, he believed in some mysterious ornaments of literature (including harmony harmony of expression, and when a true word and ease in reading aloud, very carefully conseemed to him to lack euphony still went on sidered by him) counted certainly; for these seeking another, with invincible patience, cer- too are part of the actual value of what one tain that he had not yet got hold of the unique says. But still, after all, with Flaubert, the word. ... A thousand preoccupations search, the unwearied research, was not for the smooth, or winsome, or forcible word, as · Gustave Flaubert (1821-80), a French novelist, noted for his ideas on the art of writing. 1 William Blake, poet and engraver |