THE PROPHETS’ PARADISE
“If but the Vine and Love Abjuring Band
Are in the Prophets’ Paradise to stand,
Alack, I doubt the Prophets’ Paradise,
Were empty as the hollow of one’s hand.”
THE STUDIO
He smiled, saying, “Seek her throughout the world.”
I said, “Why tell me of the world? My world is here, between these walls and the sheet of glass above; here among gilded flagons and dull jewelled arms, tarnished frames and canvasses, black chests and high-backed chairs, quaintly carved and stained in blue and gold.”
“For whom do you wait?” he said, and I answered, “When she comes I shall know her.”
On my hearth a tongue of flame whispered secrets to the whitening ashes. In the street below I heard footsteps, a voice, and a song.
“For whom then do you wait?” he said, and I answered, “I s
