large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb_136
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
Has your image blue eyes, or curiously coiled hair—" "Oh, yes, of course, you thought of me. You filled in from me. HAS YOUR IMAGE BLUE EYES OR CURIOUSLY COILED HAIR OH YES OF COURSE YOU THOUGHT OF ME YOU FILLED IN FROM ME
ribute 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." "Beatrice, are you going mad?" "It is quite true, all the same. Time will show. Perhaps you don't know it yourself as yet, but you will before long." "But, Beatrice, the poem shows its own origin. OUTH 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 BEATRICE ARE YOU GOING MAD IT IS QUITE TRUE ALL THE SAME TIME WILL SHOW PERHAPS YOU DON'T KNOW IT YOURSELF AS YET BUT YOU WILL BEFORE LONG BUT BEATRICE THE POEM SHOWS ITS OWN ORIGIN
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