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The Battle of the Bays   By: (1861-1936)

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First Page:

THE BATTLE OF THE BAYS

By the same Author

IN CAP AND BELLS HORACE AT CAMBRIDGE TILLERS OF THE SAND

BY OWEN SEAMAN

JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LONDON & NEW YORK 1902

Copyright in the United States. All Rights Reserved.

Eighth Edition

CONTENTS.

PAGE I. The Battle of the Bays 1 1. A Song of Renunciation 1 2. For the Albums of Crowned Heads Only 5 3. Marsyas in Hades 11 4. The Rhyme of the Kipperling 15 5. A Ballad of a Bun 22 6. A Vigo Street Eclogue 27 7. An Ode to Spring in the Metropolis 37 8. Yet 42 9. Elegi Musarum 44 II. To Mr. William Watson 49 III. England's Alfred Abroad 53 IV. Lilith Libifera 57 V. Ars Postera 58 VI. A New Blue Book 61 VII. To a Boy Poet of the Decadence 64 VIII. To Julia in Shooting Togs 66 IX. The Links of Love 69 X. Swords and Ploughshares 71 XI. To the Lord of Potsdam 76 XII. From the Lord of Potsdam 80 XIII. 'The Spacious Times' 83

I. THE BATTLE OF THE BAYS.

1.

A SONG OF RENUNCIATION.

(AFTER A. C. S.)

In the days of my season of salad, When the down was as dew on my cheek, And for French I was bred on the ballad, For Greek on the writers of Greek, Then I sang of the rose that is ruddy, Of 'pleasure that winces and stings,' Of white women and wine that is bloody, And similar things.

Of Delight that is dear as Desi er, And Desire that is dear as Delight; Of the fangs of the flame that is fi er, Of the bruises of kisses that bite; Of embraces that clasp and that sever, Of blushes that flutter and flee Round the limbs of Dolores, whoever Dolores may be.

I sang of false faith that is fleeting As froth of the swallowing seas, Time's curse that is fatal as Keating Is fatal to amorous fleas; Of the wanness of woe that is whelp of The lust that is blind as a bat By the help of my Muse and the help of The relative THAT.

Panatheist, bruiser and breaker Of kings and the creatures of kings, I shouted on Freedom to shake her Feet loose of the fetter that clings; Far rolling my ravenous red eye, And lifting a mutinous lid, To all monarchs and matrons I said I Would shock them and did.

Thee I sang, and thy loves, O Thalassian, O 'noble and nude and antique!' Unashamed in the 'fearless old fashion' Ere washing was done by the week; When the 'roses and rapture' that girt you Were visions of delicate vice, And the 'lilies and languors of virtue' Not nearly so nice.

O delights of the time of my teething, FĂ©lise, Fragoletta, Yolande! Foam yeast of a youth in its seething On blasted and blithering sand! Snake crowned on your tresses and belted With blossoms that coil and decay, Ye are gone; ye are lost; ye are melted Like ices in May.

Hushed now is the bibulous bubble Of 'lithe and lascivious' throats; Long stript and extinct is the stubble Of hoary and harvested oats; From the sweets that are sour as the sorrel's The bees have abortively swarmed; And Algernon's earlier morals Are fairly reformed... Continue reading book >>




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