Page:Tower of Ivory.djvu/30

14 Smoke and a shadow, woman and no flesh;

What fool desires a woman that no arms

May crush the wine of, and no lips find sweet?

Helen of Troy, Call Helen up, Call Helen!

Show us that mind can fashion out of air

The beauty that the flesh surrendered up.

Nay master, let these necromancies be,

These magics out of air, these vaporous

Appearances of flesh long turned to mould.

The clock whirs for the hour. Oh make your peace

With heaven, if there still be—

Silence thou!

The mind knows no conclusion, finds no end,

But its own seeking; and my seeking was

The true entelechy, the living seed,