Hands I have taken, face I have kiss’d, mortal I have ever touch’d, it shall be you.
Fear grace, elegance, civilization, delicatesse, Fear the mellow sweet, the sucking of honey—juice, Beware the advancing mortal ripening of Nature, Beware what precedes the decay of the ruggedness of states and men.
Towers of fables immortal fashion’d from mortal dreams!
Pass—then rattle drums again, For an army heaves in sight, O another gathering army, Swarming, trailing on the rear, O you dread accruing army, O you regiments so piteous, with your mortal diarrhoea, with your fever, O my land’s maim’d darlings, with the plenteous bloody bandage and the crutch, Lo, your pallid army follows.
…face with hectic, But thou shalt face thy fortunes, thy diseases, and surmount them all, Whatever they are to-day and whatever through time they may be, They each and all shall lift and pass away and cease from thee, While thou, Time’s spirals rounding, out of thyself, thyself still extricating, fusing, Equable, natural, mystical Union thou, (the mortal with immortal blent,) Shalt soar toward the fulfilment of the future, the spirit of the body and the mind, The soul, its destinies.
…for success alone, Not to fair-sail unintermitted always, The storm shall dash thy face, the murk of war and worse than war shall cover thee all over, (Wert capable of war, its tug and trials? be capable of peace, its trials, For the tug and mortal strain of nations come at last in prosperous peace, not war;) In many a smiling mask death shall approach beguiling thee, thou in disease shalt swelter, The livid cancer spread its hideous claws, clinging upon thy breasts, seeking to strike…
Tenderly—be not impatient, (Strong is your hold O mortal flesh, Strong is your hold O love.
) May-be it is you the mortal knob really undoing, turning—so now finally, Good-bye—and hail! my Fancy.