This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1900 edition. Excerpt: ...frenzied hours of waiting, When the Earth and Skies were dumb, Pealed an awful voice dictating An interminable sum, Changing to a tangled story--" What she said you said I said--" Till the Moon arose in glory, And I found her... in my head; Then a. Face came, blind and weeping, And It couldn't wipe Its eyes, And It muttered I was keeping Back the moonlight from the skies 1 So I patted It for pity, But It whistled shrill with wrath, And a huge black Devil City Poured its peoples on my path. So I fled with steps uncertain On a thousand-year long race, But the bellying of the curtain Kept me always in one place; While the tumult rose and maddened To the roar of Earth on fire, Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened To a whisper tense as wire. In intolerable stillness Rose one little, little star, And it chuckled at my illness, And it mocked me from afar; And its brethren came and eyed me, Called the Universe to aid, Till I lay, with naught to hide me, 'Neath the Scorn of All Things Made. Dun and saffron, robed and splendid, Broke the solemn, pitying Day, And I knew my pains were ended, ' And I turned and tried to pray; But my speech was shattered wholly, And I wept as children weep, Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly, Brought to burning eyelids sleep. I GO to concert, party, ball--What profit is in these? I sit alone against the wall And strive to look at ease.,1 The incense that is mine by right They burn before Her shrine; And that's because I'm seventeen And She is forty-nine. I cannot check my girlish blush, My color comes and goes; And sometimes to my nose. But She is white where white should And red where red should shine. The blush that flies at seventeen is fixed at forty-nine. I wish I had Her constant cheek:...