Morris Gilbert

From “Episodes”

I SEE it in the sorry gleam

That lights the far and forlorn dream;

It’s in the glorious sacrifice

Made for the wry inglorious prize;

It’s there to see (I cannot choose)

When men take honor to the Jews,

And in the satyr’s hoofs that rave

Down the still cathedral nave;

In slender lips that twist and sing,

And curved eyes quick with revelling,

And every gesture of delight

Caught in the blue mirage of night.

It will I seize and hold some day—

But for it I must throw away

And for it I must leave behind …

By God, I wish that I were blind!