Page:Konx Om Pax.pdf/94

O fool! not thus the Intimate
Gives up its secret to the soul.
Truth flies beyond, inviolate,
And slips beside the glancing goal.

Who probes the body gains a fact,
Yet leaves an equal fact behind;
So gathering for the cataract
Roll up the rapid waves of mind.

Swift as the light at last they leap
Into the chasm of despair;
Of all their freshet force they keep
But froth and smoke and empty air.

O fool! to deem dissection truth
And paint and patches but a blind!
The enthusiasm of a youth
Is worth the sage and cynic mind.

O Buddha! couldst thou nowhere rest
A pivot for the universe?
Must all things be alike confessed
Mere changes rung upon a curse?

I swear by all the bliss of blue
My Phryne with her powder on
Is just as false—and just as true—
As your disgusting skeleton.

Each to his taste: if you prefer
This loathly brooding on Decay,
I call it Growth, and lovelier
Than all the glamours of the day.