lysium
That lies outside the monstrous womb
Of time from out of which I come.

_MANIFESTO_

I

A WOMAN has given me strength and affluence.
Admitted!

All the rocking wheat of Canada, ripening now,
has not so much of strength as the body of one
woman
sweet in ear, nor so much to give
though it feed nations.

Hunger is the very Satan.
The fear of hunger is Moloch, Belial, the horrible
God.
It is a fearful thing to be dominated by the fear of
hunger.

Not bread alone, not the belly nor the thirsty
throat.
I have never yet been smitten through the belly,
with the lack of bread,
no, nor even milk and honey.

The fear of the want of these things seems to be
quite left out of me.
For so much, I thank the good generations of man-
kind.

II

AND the sweet, constant, balanced heat
of the suave sensitive body, the hunger for this
has never seized me and terrified me.
Here again, man has been good in his legacy to us,
in these two primary instances.

III

THEN the dumb, aching, bitter, helpless need,
the pining to be initiated,
to have access to the knowledge that the great dead
have opened up for us, to know, to satisfy
the great and dominant hunger of the mind;
man's sweetest harvest of the centuries, sweet,
printed books,
bright, glancing, exquisite corn of many a stubborn
glebe in the upturned darkness;
I thank mankind with passionate heart
that I just escaped the hunger for these,
that they were given when I needed them,
because I am the son of man.

I have eaten, and drunk, and warmed and clothed
my body,
I have been taught the language of understanding,
I have chosen among the bright and marvellous
books,
like any prince, such stores of the world's supply
were open to me, in the wisdom and goodness of
man.
So far, so good.
Wise, good provision that makes the heart swell
with love!

IV

BUT then came another hunger
very deep, and ravening;
the very body's body crying out
with a hunger more frightening, more profound
than stomach or throat or even the mind;
redder than death, more clamorous.

The hunger for the woman. Alas,
it is so deep a Moloch, ruthless and strong,
'tis like the unutterable name of the dread Lord,
not to be spoken aloud.
Yet there it is, the hunger which comes upon us,
which we must learn to satisfy with pure, real
satisfac