EDITORIAL NOTE TO POETRY

of dead things, Who lives among coffins and skeletons. 103 Only the poet who can lie Wilfully, skilfully, Can tell the truth. 104 Our chase after truth, Is't a chase after happiness? 105 Truth Is a woman, no better, Cunning in her shame: Of what she likes best She will know naught, And covers her face.... To what doth she yield But to violence? Violence she needs. Be hard, ye sages! Ye must compel her, That