INSPECT US

Out of the clothes that cover me
Tight as the skin is on the grape,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable shape.
In the fell clutch of bone and steel
I have not whined nor cried aloud;
Whatever else I may conceal,
I show my thoughts unshamed and proud.
The forms of other actorines
I put away into the shade;
All of them flossy near-blondines
Find and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how straight the tape,
How cold the weather is, or warm—
I am the mistress of my shape—
I am the captain of my form.
Edith Daniell.

THE MESSED DAMOZEL

AT THE CUBIST EXHIBITION

The Messed Damozel leaned out
From the gold cube of Heav'n;
There were three cubes within her hands,
And the cubes in her hair were seven;
I looked, and looked, and looked, and looked—
I could not see her, even.
Her robe, a cube from clasp to hem,
Was moderately clear;
Methought I saw two cubic eyes,
When I had looked a year;
But when I turned to tell the world,
Those eyes did disappear!

It was the rampart of some house
That she was standing on;
That much, at least, was plain to me
As her I gazed upon;
But even as I gazed, alas!
The rampart, too, was gone!
(I saw her smile!) Oh, no, I didn't,
Though long mine eyes did stare;
The cubes closed down and shut her out;
I wept in deep despair;
But this I know, and know full well—
She simply wasn't there!
Charles Hanson Towne.

A MELTON MOWBRAY PORK-PIE

Strange pie that is almost a passion,
O passion immoral for pie!
Unknown are the ways that they fashion,
Unknown and unseen of the eye.
The pie that is marbled and mottled,
The pie that digests with a sigh:
For all is not Bass that is bottled,
And all is not pork that is pie.
Richard Le Gallienne.