large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb_61
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
"Beatrice, are you going mad?" "It is quite true, all the same. Time will show. BEATRICE ARE YOU GOING MAD IT IS QUITE TRUE ALL THE SAME TIME WILL SHOW
meaning of your mouth, who knows? O mouth, where many meanings meet— Death kissed it stern, Love kissed it sweet, And each has shaped its mystic rose. Mouth of all sweets, whose sweetness sips Its tribute honey from all hives, The sweetest of the sweetest lives, Soft flowers and little children's lips; Yet rather learnt its heavenly smile From sorrow, God's divinest art, Sorrow that breaks and breaks the heart, Yet makes a music all the while. Ah! what is that within your eyes, Upon your lips, within your hair, The sacred art that makes you fair, The wisdom that hath made you wise? Tell me your secret, Sphinx,—for mine!— The mystic word that from afar God spake and made you rose and star, The fiat lux that bade you shine. While Antony read, Beatrice's face grew sadder and sadder. When he had finished she said:— "It is very beautiful, Antony—but it is not written for me." "What can you mean, Beatrice? Who else can it be written for?" "To the Image of me that you have set up in my place.  O LITTLE PALACE BUILT OF HAIR THE MEANING OF YOUR MOUTH WHO KNOWS OH MOUTH WHERE MANY MEANINGS MEET DEATH KISSED ITS STERN LOVE KISSED IT SWEET AND EACH HAS SHAPED ITS MYSTIC ROSE MOUTH OF ALL SWEETS WHOSE SWEETNESS SIPS ITS TRIBUTE HONEY FROM ALL HIVES THE SWEETEST OF THE SWEETEST LIVES SOFT FLOWERS AND LITTLE CHILDREN'S LIPS YET RATHER LEARNED ITS HEAVENLY SMILE FROM SORROW GOD'S DIVINEST ART SORROW THAT BREAKS AND BREAKS THE HEART YET MAKES A MUSIC ALL THE WHILE AH WHAT IS THAT WITHIN YOUR EYES UPON YOUR LIPS WITHIN YOUR HAIR THE SACRED ART THAT MAKES YOU FAIR THE WISDOM THAT HATH MADE YOU WISE TELL ME YOUR SECRET SPHINX FOR MINE THE MYSTIC WORD THAT FROM AFG GOD SPAKE AND MADE YOU ROSE AND STARVE THE FIELD LOOKS THAT BADE YOU SHINE WHILE ANTONY READ BEATRICE'S FACE GREW SADDER AND SADDER WHEN HE HAD FINISHED SHE SAID IT IS VERY BEAUTIFUL ANTONY BUT IT IS NOT WRITTEN FOR ME WHAT CAN YOU MEAN BEATRICE WHO ELSE CAN IT BE WRITTEN FOR TO THE IMAGE OF ME THAT YOU HAVE SET UP IN MY PLACE
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