Page:Poems by Isaac Rosenberg (1922).djvu/140

 You have seen men and women, Soaked yourself in powers and old glories, In broken days and tears and glees, And touched cold hands— Hands shut in pitiless trances where the feast is high. I think there is more sorrow in the world Than man can bear.

None can exceed their limit, lady: You either bear or break.

Can one choose to break? To bear, Wearily to bear, is misery. Beauty is this corroding malady.

Beauty is a great paradox— Music's secret soul creeping about the senses To wrestle with man's coarser nature. It is hard when beauty loses.