EDITORIAL NOTE TO POETRY

reasoned piety, Doff shoes! A land thrice holy this must be!— Yet underneath this love there sate A torch of vengeance, burning secretly The Hebrew God was gnawed by Hebrew hate. Hermit! Do I aright interpret thee? ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER That which he taught, has had its day, That which he lived, shall live for aye: Look at the man! No bondsman he! Nor e'er to mortal bowed his knee! TO RICHARD WAGNER O You who chafe at every fetter's link, A restless spirit, never free: Who, though victorious aye, in bonds still cowered, Disgusted more and more, and flayed and scoured, Till from each cup of balm you poison drink, Alas! and by the Cross all helpless sink, You too, you too, among the overpowered! For long I watched this play so weirdly shaped, Breathing an air