Look at the woman here with... «Pippa Passes»
innashpitzberg28 мая 2013Look at the woman here with the new soul, Like my own Psyche’s,—fresh upon her lips Alit, the visionary butterfly, Waiting my word to enter and make bright, Or flutter off and leave all blank as first. This body had no soul before, but slept Or stirred, was beauteous or ungainly, free From taint or foul with stain, as outward things Fastened their image on its passiveness: Now, it will wake, feel, live—or die again! Shall to produce form out of unshaped stuff Be Art—and, further, to evoke a soul From form, be nothing? This new soul is mine!
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