 | Le Cahier Jaune |  |
99
PROSPERO.
O close the book and let the pages lie,
Not flap and ruffle in the idle wind;
Prison the mocking sprites that unconfined
Would wreck the world with easy jollity.
Not flap and ruffle in the idle wind;
Prison the mocking sprites that unconfined
Would wreck the world with easy jollity.
O I have lived and loved my lordly art
And lo I pass, yet this my art shall be,
To weave new spells unknown, unguessed by me
To break like morning in some later heart.
And lo I pass, yet this my art shall be,
To weave new spells unknown, unguessed by me
To break like morning in some later heart.
The fabled Sibyl in her haunted cave
Gave all her written leaves to the vague breeze;
So we, more secret still, will let the wave
Steep them in thunder of the wandering seas:
Matted and coiled in oozy water-weed
No mortal eye shall scan them: they are dead indeed.
Gave all her written leaves to the vague breeze;
So we, more secret still, will let the wave
Steep them in thunder of the wandering seas:
Matted and coiled in oozy water-weed
No mortal eye shall scan them: they are dead indeed.
Rosehill, 1891.
| Le Cahier Jaune | |