Ix

He, did he love her? France was his weapon, shrewd At edge, a wind in onset: he loved well His tempered weapon, with the which he hewed Clean to the ground impediments, or hacked, Sure of the blade that served the great man-miracle. He raised her, robed her, gemmed her for his bride, Did but her blood in blindness given exact. Her blood she gave, was blind to him as guide: She quivered at his word, and at his touch Was hound or steed for any mark he espied. He loved her more than little, less than much. The fair subservient of Imperial Fact Next to his consanguineous was placed In ranked esteem; above the diurnal meal, Vexatious carnal appetites above, Above his hoards, while she Imperial Fact embraced, And rose but at command from under heel. The love devolvent, the ascension love, Receptive or profuse, were fires he lacked, Whose marrow had expelled their wasteful sparks; Whose mind, the vast machine of endless haste, Took up but solids for its glowing seal. The hungry love, that fish-like creatures feel, Impelled for prize of hooks, for prey of sharks, His night’s first quarter sicklied to distaste, In warm enjoyment barely might distract. A head that held an Europe half devoured Taste in the blood’s conceit of pleasure soured. Nought save his rounding aim, the means he plied, Death for his cause, to him could point appeal. His mistress was the thing of uses tried. Frigid the netting smile on whom he wooed, But on his Policy his eye was lewd. That sharp long zig-zag into distance brooked No foot across; a shade his ire provoked. The blunder or the cruelty of a deed His Policy imperative could plead. He deemed nought other precious, nor knew he Legitimate outside his Policy. Men’s lives and works were due, from their birth’s date, To the State’s shield and sword, himself the State. He thought for them in mass, as Titan may; For their pronounced well-being bade obey; O’er each obstructive thicket thunderclapped, And straight their easy road to market mapped. Watched Argus to survey the huge preserves He held or coveted; Mars was armed alert At sign of motion; yet his brows were murk, His gorge would surge, to see the butcher’s work, The Reaper’s field; a sensitive in nerves. He rode not over men to do them hurt. As one who claimed to have for paramour Earth’s fairest form, he dealt the cancelling blow; Impassioned, still impersonal; to ensure Possession; free of rivals, not their foe.

The common Tyrant’s frenzies, rancour, spites, He knew as little as men’s claim on rights. A kindness for old servants, early friends, Was constant in him while they served his ends; And if irascible, ’twas the moment’s reek From fires diverted by some gusty freak. His Policy the act which breeds the act Prevised, in issues accurately summed From reckonings of men’s tempers, terrors, needs:— That universal army, which he leads Who builds Imperial on Imperious Fact. Within his hot brain’s hammering workshop hummed A thousand furious wheels at whirr, untired As Nature in her reproductive throes; And did they grate, he spake, and cannon fired: The cause being aye the incendiary foes Proved by prostration culpable. His dispense Of Justice made his active conscience; His passive was of ceaseless labour formed. So found this Tyrant sanction and repose; Humanly just, inhumanly unwarmed. Preventive fencings with the foul intent Occult, by him observed and foiled betimes, Let fool historians chronicle as crimes. His blows were dealt to clear the way he went: Too busy sword and mind for needless blows. The mighty bird of sky minutest grains On ground perceived; in heaven but rays or rains; In humankind diversities of masks, For rule of men the choice of bait or goads. The statesman steered the despot to large tasks; The despot drove the statesman on short roads. For Order’s cause he laboured, as inclined A soldier’s training and his Euclid mind. His army unto men he could present As model of the perfect instrument. That creature, woman, was the sofa soft, When warriors their dusty armour doffed, And read their manuals for the making truce With rosy frailties framed to reproduce. He farmed his land, distillingly alive For the utmost extract he might have and hive, Wherewith to marshal force; and in like scheme, Benign shone Hymen’s torch on young love’s dream. Thus to be strong was he beneficent; A fount of earth, likewise a firmament.

The disputant in words his eye dismayed: Opinions blocked his passage. Rent Were Councils with a gesture; brayed By hoarse camp-phrase what argument Dared interpose to waken spleen In him whose vision grasped the unseen, Whose counsellor was the ready blade, Whose argument the cannonade. He loathed his land’s divergent parties, loth To grant them speech, they were such idle troops; The friable and the grumous, dizzards both. Men were good sticks his mastery wrought from hoops; Some serviceable, none credible on oath. The silly preference they nursed to die In beds he scorned, and led where they should lie. If magic made them pliable for his use, Magician he could be by planned surprise. For do they see the deuce in human guise, As men’s acknowledged head appears the deuce, And they will toil with devilish craft and zeal. Among them certain vagrant wits that had Ideas buzzed; they were the feebly mad; Pursuers of a film they hailed ideal; But could be dangerous fire-flies for a brain Subdued by fact, still amorous of the inane. With a breath he blew them out, to beat their wings The way of such transfeminated things, And France had sense of vacancy in Light.

That is the soul’s dead darkness, making clutch Wild hands for aid at muscles within touch; Adding to slavery’s chain the stringent twist; Even when it brings close surety that aright She reads her Tyrant through his golden mist; Perceives him fast to a harsher Tyrant bound; Self-ridden, self-hunted, captive of his aim; Material grandeur’s ape, the Infernal’s hound; Enormous, with no infinite around; No starred deep sky, no Muse, or lame The dusty pattering pinions, The voice as through the brazen tube of Fame.