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Eris: A Dramatic Allegory
Excerpt from Eris
AM alone, yet nevermore alone! For in the aching abyss of the air Tremble a thousand phantasms of the brain, A conjured mimicry of things unseen, A seething maelstrom of distorted shapes That smirk and gibe with tongues of bitter hate, Strange eyeless gnomes and painted fairies bright That wander 'mid the shadows; and black bats Having the forms of men. By night, by day I walk amidst this maddening multitude, I hearken to the chatter of strange voices, I watch strange antic loves that go unnamed On earth; and feel the ghostly touch Of frenzied kisses that the world would scorn, (the far forgotten world of things unreal!) I laugh with apish revels, harlot joys.
AM alone, yet nevermore alone! For in the aching abyss of the air Tremble a thousand phantasms of the brain, A conjured mimicry of things unseen, A seething maelstrom of distorted shapes That smirk and gibe with tongues of bitter hate, Strange eyeless gnomes and painted fairies bright That wander 'mid the shadows; and black bats Having the forms of men. By night, by day I walk amidst this maddening multitude, I hearken to the chatter of strange voices, I watch strange antic loves that go unnamed On earth; and feel the ghostly touch Of frenzied kisses that the world would scorn, (the far forgotten world of things unreal!) I laugh with apish revels, harlot joys.
49 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1914
About the author
Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff
26 books2 followersBlanche Shoemaker Wagstaff (1888–1959) was an American poet.
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