there came new subtlety of eyes into my tent,/
whether of spirit or hypostasis,/
but what the blindfold hides/
or at carneval/
nor any pair showed anger/
Saw but the eyes and stance between the eyes,/
colour, diastasis,/
careless or unaware it had not the /
whole tent's room/
nor was place for the full interpass'/
penetrate casting but shade/ beyond the other lights sky's clear night's sea green of the mountain pool/
shone from the unmasked eyes/
in half-mask's space.
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross/
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee/
What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage/
Whose world, or mine or theirs/
or is it of none?/
First came the seen, then thus the palpable/
Elysium, though it were in the halls of hell,/
What thou lovest well is thy true heritage/
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee
The ant's a centaur in his dragon world.
Pull down thy vanity, it is not man Made/
courage, or made order, or made grace,/
Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down./
Learn of the green world what can be thy place/
In scaled invention or true artistry,/
Pull down thy vanity, Paquin pull down!
The green casque has outdone your elegance.
"Master thyself, then others shall thee beare"
Pull down thy vanity/
Thou art a beaten dog beneath the hail, A swollen magpie in a fitful sun,/
Half black half white/
Nor knowst'ou wing from tail/
Pull down thy vanity/
How mean thy hates/
Fostered in falsity, Pull down thy vanity,/
Rathe to destroy, niggard in charity,/
Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down.
But to have done/
instead of not doing/
This is not vanity/
To have, with decency, knocked/
That a Blunt should open/ To have gathered from the air a live tradition/
or from a fine old eye the unconquered flame/
this is not vanity./
Here error is all in the not done, all in the diffidence that faltered . . .
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