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The Triumph of Music, and Other Lyrics
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1
Vent all your coward's wrath
Upon me so! —
Yes, I have crossed your path
And will not go!
2
Storm at me hate, and name
Me all that's vile,
"Lust," "filth," "disease," and "shame,"
I only smile.
3
Me brute rage can not hurt,
It only flings
In your own eyes blind dirt
That bites and stings.
4
Rave at your like such whine,
Your fellow-men,
This wrath! – great God! and mine! —
What is it then?
5
No words! no oaths! such hate
As devils smile
When raw success cries "wait!"
And "afterwhile!"
6
A woman I and ill,
A courtesan
You wearied of, would kill,
And you – a man!
7
You, you – unnamable!
A thing there's not,
Too base to burn in Hell,
Too vile to rot.
SEMPER IDEM
1
Hold up thy head and crush
Thy heart's despair;
From thy wan temples brush
The tear-wet hair.
2
Look on me thus as I
Gaze upon thee;
Nor question how nor why
Such things can be.
3
Thou thought'st it love! – poor fool!
That which was lust!
Which made thee, beautiful,
Vile as the dust!
4
Thy flesh I craved, thy face! —
Love shrinks at this —
Now on thy lips to place
One farewell kiss! —
5
Weep not, but die! – 'tis given —
And so – farewell! —
Die! – that which makes death heaven,
Makes life a hell.
TWO LIVES
1
"There is no God," one said,
And love is lust;
When I am dead I'm dead,
And all is dust.
"Be merry while you can
Before you're gray;
With some wild courtesan
Drink care away."
2
Vent all your coward's wrath
Upon me so! —
Yes, I have crossed your path
And will not go!
2
Storm at me hate, and name
Me all that's vile,
"Lust," "filth," "disease," and "shame,"
I only smile.
3
Me brute rage can not hurt,
It only flings
In your own eyes blind dirt
That bites and stings.
4
Rave at your like such whine,
Your fellow-men,
This wrath! – great God! and mine! —
What is it then?
5
No words! no oaths! such hate
As devils smile
When raw success cries "wait!"
And "afterwhile!"
6
A woman I and ill,
A courtesan
You wearied of, would kill,
And you – a man!
7
You, you – unnamable!
A thing there's not,
Too base to burn in Hell,
Too vile to rot.
SEMPER IDEM
1
Hold up thy head and crush
Thy heart's despair;
From thy wan temples brush
The tear-wet hair.
2
Look on me thus as I
Gaze upon thee;
Nor question how nor why
Such things can be.
3
Thou thought'st it love! – poor fool!
That which was lust!
Which made thee, beautiful,
Vile as the dust!
4
Thy flesh I craved, thy face! —
Love shrinks at this —
Now on thy lips to place
One farewell kiss! —
5
Weep not, but die! – 'tis given —
And so – farewell! —
Die! – that which makes death heaven,
Makes life a hell.
TWO LIVES
1
"There is no God," one said,
And love is lust;
When I am dead I'm dead,
And all is dust.
"Be merry while you can
Before you're gray;
With some wild courtesan
Drink care away."
2
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