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<h2> The Harpy </h2>
<p>There was a woman, and she was wise; woefully wise was she;<br/>
She was old, so old, yet her years all told were but a score and three;<br/>
And she knew by heart, from finish to start, the Book of Iniquity.<br/>
<br/>
There is no hope for such as I on earth, nor yet in Heaven;<br/>
Unloved I live, unloved I die, unpitied, unforgiven;<br/>
A loathed jade, I ply my trade, unhallowed and unshriven.<br/>
<br/>
I paint my cheeks, for they are white, and cheeks of chalk men hate;<br/>
Mine eyes with wine I make them shine, that man may seek and sate;<br/>
With overhead a lamp of red I sit me down and wait<br/>
<br/>
Until they come, the nightly scum, with drunken eyes aflame;<br/>
Your sweethearts, sons, ye scornful ones — 'tis I who know their shame.<br/>
The gods, ye see, are brutes to me — and so I play my game.<br/>
<br/>
For life is not the thing we thought, and not the thing we plan;<br/>
And Woman in a bitter world must do the best she can —<br/>
Must yield the stroke, and bear the yoke, and serve the will of man;<br/>
<br/>
Must serve his need and ever feed the flame of his desire,<br/>
Though be she loved for love alone, or be she loved for hire;<br/>
For every man since life began is tainted with the mire.<br/>
<br/>
And though you know he love you so and set you on love's throne;<br/>
Yet let your eyes but mock his sighs, and let your heart be stone,<br/>
Lest you be left (as I was left) attainted and alone.<br/>
<br/>
From love's close kiss to hell's abyss is one sheer flight, I trow,<br/>
And wedding ring and bridal bell are will-o'-wisps of woe,<br/>
And 'tis not wise to love too well, and this all women know.<br/>
<br/>
Wherefore, the wolf-pack having gorged upon the lamb, their prey,<br/>
With siren smile and serpent guile I make the wolf-pack pay —<br/>
With velvet paws and flensing claws, a tigress roused to slay.<br/>
<br/>
One who in youth sought truest truth and found a devil's lies;<br/>
A symbol of the sin of man, a human sacrifice.<br/>
Yet shall I blame on man the shame? Could it be otherwise?<br/>
<br/>
Was I not born to walk in scorn where others walk in pride?<br/>
The Maker marred, and, evil-starred, I drift upon His tide;<br/>
And He alone shall judge His own, so I His judgment bide.<br/>
<br/>
Fate has written a tragedy; its name is "The Human Heart".<br/>
The Theatre is the House of Life, Woman the mummer's part;<br/>
The Devil enters the prompter's box and the play is ready to start.<br/></p>
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<h2> Premonition </h2>
<p>'Twas a year ago and the moon was bright<br/>
(Oh, I remember so well, so well);<br/>
I walked with my love in a sea of light,<br/>
And the voice of my sweet was a silver bell.<br/>
And sudden the moon grew strangely dull,<br/>
And sudden my love had taken wing;<br/>
I looked on the face of a grinning skull,<br/>
I strained to my heart a ghastly thing.<br/>
<br/>
'Twas but fantasy, for my love lay still<br/>
In my arms, with her tender eyes aglow,<br/>
And she wondered why my lips were chill,<br/>
Why I was silent and kissed her so.<br/>
A year has gone and the moon is bright,<br/>
A gibbous moon, like a ghost of woe;<br/>
I sit by a new-made grave to-night,<br/>
And my heart is broken — it's strange, you know.<br/></p>
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