Come Over and Help Us; a Rhapsody

A RHAPSODY

Our masks are gauze + and screen our faces for those unlike us only,
Who are easily deceived. + Pierce through these masks to our unhidden tongues
And watch us scold, + scold with intellectual lust; + scold
Ourselves, our foes, our friends; + Europe, America, Boston; and all that is not
Boston; + till we reach a purity, fierce as the love of God; — + Hate.
Hate, still fed by the shadowed source; + but fallen, stagnant fallen;
Sunk low between thin channels; rises, rises; + swells to burst
Its walls; and rolls out deep and wide. + Hate rules our drowning Race.
Any freed from our Tyrant; + abandon their farms, forsake their
Country, become American .

We, the least subtle of Peoples, + lead each only one life at a time, —
Being never, never anything but sincere; + yet we trust our honesty
So little that we dare not depart from it, — + knowing it to need habitual stimulation.
And living amid a world of Spooks, + we summon another to us
Who is (in some sort) our Clown, — + as he affords us amusement.
O! sweet tormentor, Doubt! longed-for and human, + leave us some plausible
Evil motive, however incredible. + The Hate in the World outside our World
(Envious, malicious, vindictive) + makes our Hate gleam in the splendor
Of a Castrate + who with tongue plucked out; + arms, legs sawed off;
Eyes and ears, pierced through; + still thinks + thinks
By means of all his nutriment, + with intense, exacting Energy, terrible, consuming.
Madness, we so politely placate + as an every-day inconvenience
We shun in secret. + Madness is sumptuous; Hate, ascetic.
Those only who remain sane, + taste the flavor of Hate.
Strong Joy, we forbid ourselves + and deny large pleasurable objects,
But, too shrewd to forego amusement, + we enjoy all joys which, dying, leave us teased.
So spare us, sweet Doubt, our tormentor, + the Arts, our concerts, and novels;
The theater, sports, the exotic Past; + to use to stave off Madness,
To use as breathing spells, + that our drug's tang may not die.
We are not tireless; + distract us from thin ecstasy, that we may hate
If with less conviction, + with some result, some end, —
So pure ourselves; so clear our passion; + pure, clear, alone .

II

The New Englander leaves New England + to flaunt his drab person
Before Latin decors + and Asiatic back-drops.
Wearies. + Returns to life, — life tried for a little while.
A poor sort of thing + (filling the stomach; emptying the bowels;
Bothering to speak to friends on the street; + filling the stomach again;
Dancing, drinking, whoring) + forms the tissue of this fabric. —
(Marriage; society; business; charity; — + Life, and life refused .)

The New Englander appraises sins, + finds them beyond his means, + and hoards.
Likewise, he seldom spends his goodness + on someone ignoble as he,
But, to make an occasion, he proves himself + that he is equally ignoble.
Then he breaks his fast! + Then he ends his thirsting!
He censors the Judge. + He passes judgment on the Censor. + No language is left.
His lone faculty, Condemnation, — condemned. + Nothing is left to say.
Proclaim an Armistice + Through Existence, livid, void, + let silence flood .

Ask the Silent One your question. + (He is stupid in misery
No more than the talkative man, who talks through his hat.) + Ask the question.
If he replied at all, + it would be to remark that he never could despise
Anyone so much as himself + should he once give way to Self-pity.
A different act of faith is his, — + the white gesture of Humility.
He knows his weakness. + He is well-schooled + and he never forgets the shortest
Title of his Knowledge. + The jailer of his Soul sees Pride. He sees
Tears, never. + The Silent One is so eaten away
He cannot make that little effort + which surrender to external Fact
Requires, + but looks out always with one wish, — + to realize he exists .

Lo! a Desire! + A Faint motive! + A motive (however faint) beyond disinterestedness.
Faint. + It is faint. + But the boundary is clear. + Desire, oh desire further!
Past that boundary lies Annihilation + where the Soul
Breaks the monotonous-familiar + and man wakes to the shocking
Unastounded company of other men. + But the Silent One would not pass
Where the Redmen have gone. + He would live without end. That, — + the ultimate nature of Hell .
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