The Case of Patience Worth

«AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Written at request W. F. P., in October, 1926.» — encabezado y datación del bosquejo con que abre el volumen: lo escribe Mrs. Curran a petición de W. F. P. en octubre de 1926, es decir, a trece años del primer mensaje.

«Father educated at a military school in Ithica, N. Y., as I recall.» — en su bosquejo, Mrs. Curran consigna la formación del padre, y remata con la reserva —*as I recall*— que atraviesa todo el texto.

«I will set down the pictures I retain for whatever value they may have.» — Mrs. Curran declara el criterio con que escribe: dejar las imágenes que conserva sin decidir ella si valen.

«I collected broken china and bits of colored glass, and spent hours worrying “doodle bugs ” with a stick.» — Mrs. Curran describe sus juegos de infancia en Fort Worth.

«I did not like dolls—liked a stick of stove wood with a mud face, wrapped in a towel, quite as well, —preferred live toys, and dressed my cats in doll clothes and wheeled my dogs in the doll cart.» — Mrs. Curran señala su preferencia por los juguetes vivos frente a las muñecas.

«I recall that my mother was pretty but also that she was too thin to afford me a comfortable pillow, although I wanted to be cuddled.» — Mrs. Curran describe a su madre con una imagen que mezcla el elogio y la falta.

«I do not recall my uncle at all at this point—I do recall him arrayed in a queer costume for a masked ball (I think as a ballet girl), which puzzled me.» — Mrs. Curran fecha su primer recuerdo del tío en un disfraz de baile de máscaras.

«He was a medium, though no others of the family were spiritualists, but I remember nothing else about that at this period.» — el único contacto con el espiritismo que Mrs. Curran declara en su infancia: un tío médium, sin más familia espiritista y sin más recuerdo.

«I had an uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong, although I had thought that I was discreet and wise, not realizing that I had actually lied.» — Mrs. Curran refiere su primera mentira de escuela sin atenuarla; el bosquejo entero está escrito con esta franqueza sobre lo desfavorable.

«I recall some “ paddlings ” by my mother over which my father would almost weep.» — Mrs. Curran contrasta el rigor de la madre con la blandura del padre.

«I broke down the last year (at thirteen) of too much piano, elocution, Delsarte, school and entertainments, and was sent to the Catholic St. Ignatius’ Academy for “ rest.”» — Mrs. Curran atribuye su colapso a los trece años a la acumulación de piano, elocución, Delsarte, escuela y funciones.

«He was a Methodist minister, I think, at odd times, and I cordially hated him.» — Mrs. Curran declara sin rodeos su antipatía por uno de sus maestros.

«I loved the wild flowers, was generally honest, rather vain of clothes, thought I was homely and felt it keenly.» — autorretrato adolescente de Mrs. Curran, con la fealdad percibida como dolor declarado.

«I did not like it there; I wanted to learn, to know and to see life.» — Mrs. Curran resume en una línea el motor de su juventud, que su bosquejo repite: querer aprender y ver mundo.

«My father paid for the lessons and I earned a little by playing piano at my uncle’s Spiritualist Church in Steinway Hall, for a short time.» — el único empleo de Mrs. Curran ligado al espiritismo que su bosquejo consigna: tocar el piano en la iglesia espiritualista de su tío, por poco tiempo.

«He was amused and kind and sent me to Thompson Music Co., where I sold music until they closed out; then I worked at Siegel Cooper’s at $6.00 a week, then sold smoker’s supplies at the “ Fair,” and finally was employed at Marshall Field’s.» — Mrs. Curran enumera su carrera de empleos comerciales, sin ninguno ligado a letras.

«I had made no effort to write—never thought of it, though I could see the possibilities of material in the Ozarks and I appreciated them.» — Mrs. Curran declara no haber intentado nunca escribir, y a la vez reconoce que veía material literario en los Ozarks: la negativa no es de sensibilidad, es de práctica.

«Mr. Curran was bright but not literary; there was no idea of writing anything when the bolt fell.» — Mrs. Curran describe a su marido y fecha el suceso con la metáfora que el volumen repetirá en boca de muchos testigos, la del rayo.

«I am not a Spiritualist, but am in sympathy with the furtherance of psychic facts and believe that the pioneers of today are but groping toward fact.» — Mrs. Curran deslinda su posición: no se declara espiritualista y sitúa a los investigadores de su tiempo tanteando hacia el hecho.

«I am not a “ medium” in the common sense. Am deeply interested in the study of psychic phenomena, using myself as a study.» — Mrs. Curran deslinda el término: rechaza ser médium en el sentido corriente y se declara estudiosa de los fenómenos usándose a sí misma como objeto.

«For you only, Dr. Prince—* won’t you remove for good from the minds of the public that I am a medium with a gold shingle and trances? Please, pretty please. Remember, I’m an Episcopalian!» — Mrs. Curran se dirige a Prince por su nombre y le pide que quite del público la imagen del médium profesional; el pasaje iba dirigido solo a él.

«In February, 1926, I orally asked Mrs. Curran a large number of questions, which she answered on the spot. Both questions and answers were verbally recorded, and were copied for this book, but it was found that they consumed too much space.» — Prince declara el método del interrogatorio de febrero de 1926 y su edición: preguntas y respuestas registradas al momento, suprimidas las preguntas por espacio.

«It will be understood that every following statement made by Mrs. Curran was directly responsive to a question, except such as are put within parentheses, which are her spontaneous remarks.» — Prince fija la convención de lectura del capítulo: todo lo que sigue responde a una pregunta salvo lo que va entre paréntesis.

«As a child I read no poetry except such as was in school readers or given me for declamations.» — Mrs. Curran declara el alcance de su trato con la poesía antes de 1913: solo lo escolar y lo declamado.

«I remember her chiefly as reading an English periodical with stories of the Bertha Clay level.» — Mrs. Curran sitúa las lecturas de su madre en un registro popular, nombrado por una firma de novela sentimental.

«Don’t know when the landing at Plymouth Rock was.» — una de las respuestas con que Mrs. Curran mide su propio desconocimiento de la historia estadounidense.

«Oliver Cromwell? Can’t tell about them but think Cromwell was a soldier.» — respuesta de Mrs. Curran sobre historia inglesa, con la vacilación tal como el volumen la imprime.

«I know it was the Pilgrims, not the Puritans who landed there, because a man gave Patience Worth the subject “The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers.”» — Mrs. Curran declara que ese dato lo sabe por la sesión misma: alguien propuso el tema a Patience Worth. Es la clase de contaminación que Prince pesa después.

«The Epistle to the Galatians was written by Paul, remember that from Church services.» — Mrs. Curran atribuye a los oficios religiosos, no a la lectura, lo poco que sabe de la Escritura.

«John the Evangelist was beheaded— no, that was John the Baptist; don’t know about the other.» — respuesta de Mrs. Curran sobre los dos Juanes, con la corrección que ella misma hace a media frase.

«All the books I have had in my own residence I have now; you may see them. I never lived in a house that had a well-stocked library.» — Mrs. Curran ofrece sus libros a la inspección y declara no haber vivido nunca en casa con biblioteca surtida.

«He wasn’t a student and didn’t talk about history; he didn’t know history.» — Mrs. Curran describe a su marido como no estudioso y ajeno a la historia.

«All the dialect he was interested in was Irish. Interested in the derivation of words?» — Mrs. Curran acota el único dialecto que interesaba a su marido, el irlandés, y devuelve como pregunta la de la etimología.

«When he was busy I would play with the dog on the prairie, fish for “ crawdads ” with a hunk of bacon, hunt buffalo-wallows, play with water-bugs, etc.» — Mrs. Curran describe sus juegos de infancia al aire libre en la pradera tejana.

«I have found in the records the account of the picture given her by Patience Worth sometime earlier —Ep.» — nota del editor del volumen —Prince, cuya firma el troceo imprime *Ep.* donde el impreso lleva ED.— que remite el dato a los registros de las sesiones.

«I never heard “ voices” before 1913, and that of Patience Worth developed slowly. Never saw an apparition.» — Mrs. Curran fecha en 1913 el corte y describe la voz de Patience Worth como algo que se fue formando, no como irrupción; niega haber visto aparición alguna.

«No, I never had any “ invisible companions.” I sometimes talked to myself when I had no one to play with. I was never of a melancholy bent, and being introspective was not my style.» — Mrs. Curran niega los antecedentes que una explicación por fantasía infantil pediría: ni compañeros invisibles, ni melancolía, ni introspección.

«When I was in Chicago, at eighteen, I played the piano in his church about a month and a half. I didn’t like the crowd that came, and the whole thing was repulsive to me.» — Mrs. Curran cifra en mes y medio tocando el piano en la iglesia de su tío todo su trato juvenil con el espiritismo, y declara que el ambiente le repugnaba.

«I had read, before 1913, no books on psychical research or Spiritualism whatever. My first was “‘ Cosmic Relations,” which Mr. Holt sent me after he printed the first Patience Worth book.» — Mrs. Curran declara que su primera lectura sobre investigación psíquica llegó DESPUÉS del primer libro, enviada por el editor.

«Perhaps it may appear to the reader that more witnesses than those whose accounts are given below should have been found, but really they are as many as could be expected when all the facts are taken into account.» — Prince se adelanta a la objeción por el número de testigos y la contesta con las circunstancias que enumera enseguida: la dispersión, las muertes, el pueblo minero casi extinto.

«Of such testimonies as I secured all but one appear to be reliable. That one I discard, although it is a friendly one and in most respects parallel with statements by others. I discard it entirely because certain answers are irreconcilable among themselves or with what I independently discovered to be facts. The errancies I set down to psychological peculiarities rather than intentional unveracity. All other testimonies are given.» — Prince declara su criterio de descarte —un testimonio amistoso pero internamente inconsistente— y lo atribuye a peculiaridades psicológicas antes que a mala fe.

«As an inducement to be perfectly frank, in every case I promised not to give the names of informants, and feel bound by the promise, though in most cases it might not be insisted upon.» — Prince explica por qué los testigos del volumen van con iniciales: prometió anonimato a cambio de franqueza.

«The following is the way I headed lists of questions when I sent them: “In order that I may be assured that you are giving your own and independent impressions, please do not show these questions to anyone or consult anyone before writing out and sending the answers.”» — Prince transcribe la cabecera con que enviaba sus cuestionarios, pensada para evitar que los testigos se consultaran entre sí.

«She was just an ordinary girl, with nothing that would make her stand out amongst her associates or acquaintances.» — Mr. A. B. C., hombre de negocios de Nueva York que la trató de niña y de casada, describe a Mrs. Curran como enteramente común.

«I watched her use the ouija board and was mildly interested at her first results, but even then took no particular interest in her efforts,» — Mr. A. B. C. sitúa el arranque del tablero como diversión, sin interés de nadie, él incluido.

«I have no recollection of Mrs. C. expressing [in conversation] an out of ordinary interest of literary character.» — Miss E., que conoció a Pearl Pollard en Palmer y Potosi durante veinticinco años, niega recordarle interés literario fuera de lo común.

«She was an Episcopalian but manifested no interest in any church.» — Miss E. sobre la práctica religiosa de Mrs. Curran, y sobre su trato con la Biblia.

«She never seemed to be much taken with either philosophical or religious reflection.» — Miss E. niega en ella disposición a la reflexión filosófica o religiosa.

«Found her to be very bright and quick to learn anything she undertook to do. She is an excellent cook, and housekeeper, draws and paints fairly well, sings and plays piano, entertains.» — Miss E. enumera las habilidades que sí le reconoce, todas domésticas y sociales.

«Prior to 1913, I have no recollection of Mrs. C. showing any decided preference for any special line of literature outside of the current magazines and fiction of the period.» — Miss E. acota las lecturas de Mrs. Curran antes de 1913 a revistas y ficción corriente.

«I see no change in her health since Patience Worth came.» — Miss E. distingue lo que cambió de lo que no: la salud, igual.

«Her mentality is very much stronger and more highly developed since Patience Worth came.» — Miss E. registra un cambio en sentido contrario, y es de las pocas observaciones del capítulo que atribuyen efecto al fenómeno sobre la propia Mrs. Curran.

«In view of the statement that her health was good, I doubt if “neurotic” is a term understood by Miss E. in its fullest meaning.» — nota al pie de Prince que objeta el uso del término por la testigo, sin retirarle el testimonio.

«I know nothing that would explain the sudden beginning of poetry, etc. I happened to be in her home when she began writing on the ouija board.» — Miss E. declara no tener explicación del comienzo repentino de la poesía, y sitúa su presencia en la casa justo cuando empezó el tablero.

«I have read letters which she wrote before 1913, and thought that they were well composed, and she did write good descriptions of her home and surrounding country at Palmer.» — Miss E. matiza el retrato: recuerda cartas bien compuestas y buenas descripciones del paisaje de Palmer antes de 1913. Es el testimonio del capítulo que más concede a la capacidad previa.

«Music seemed the only study she was interested in. Her father had few books. She didn’t read much, nor talk about poetry.» — Mrs. H., que trató a Mrs. Curran en Palmer y tomó lecciones con ella, reduce a la música su único estudio.

«Mrs. H. knew very little about the Patience Worth matter, and I think was hardly aware of the significance of her testimony.» — Prince anota el valor que atribuye a esa testigo: ignoraba el asunto y, a su juicio, la importancia de lo que declaraba.

«I never saw anything about Pearl which made me think she might become an author.» — Mr. J., dueño de una tienda en Potosi en cuya casa se hospedaron los Pollard, resume así su recuerdo.

«I was rather young but I remember her as being very like other girls. No bookish tendencies that I could see.» — Mrs. K., unos cinco años menor, la recuerda igual a las demás muchachas de Palmer.

«At sixteen she read mostly novels, but she wasn’t much of a reader of anything. She did not take books out of the public library.» — Mrs. L., que la alojó un verano en Mound City, acota sus lecturas de los dieciséis y niega el uso de la biblioteca pública.

«I never saw her reading the Bible. I don’t think she went to church. We were great church-goers. I didn’t take her along because she didn’t want to go.» — Mrs. L. contrasta su propia casa, de gente muy de iglesia, con la desgana de la muchacha.

«We knew her as a bright, jolly, good-natured girl with no marked oddities or unusual traits. My wife always liked her.» — Mr. P., abogado, entrega un testimonio que él mismo presenta como poco útil para la investigación.

«My experience is that relatives of a person who has “ psychical ” phenomena are often the last to manifest any enthusiasm for them. They hear jesting and disparaging comments which annoy them, so that they wish that mother (or sister, or whoever the relative may be) would leave such things alone. Often they are quite justified in their repugnance but often, too, they do not even go so far as to ascertain from the quality of the phenomena whether they are worth while or not.» — Prince expone por qué pesa el testimonio de una pariente: los familiares de quien tiene fenómenos suelen ser los últimos en entusiasmarse, y con motivos que él enumera.

«I never knew her to write anything up to the time of Patience Worth, but believe when she was a girl she had written one or two [sets of?] verses. I know nothing of the nature of these things. I never thought of her having the power to write before Patience Worth came.» — Mrs. Maupin, hijastra de Mrs. Curran, deja abierta la posibilidad de unos versos de juventud y a la vez niega haberle supuesto capacidad de escribir.

«She is the soul of truth. I used to think her too darned truthful. [ Again she insisted, ] she is the most frank and truthful person I know, almost too much so.» — Mrs. Maupin insiste, en dos momentos distintos de la entrevista, sobre la veracidad de su madrastra.

«I know nothing in Mrs. Curran’s surroundings to give her the knowledge in the Patience Worth writings. There was no opportunity during my acquaintance with her to converse with scholars or overhear their talk.» — Mrs. Maupin niega en el entorno doméstico la fuente del saber que aparece en los escritos.

«Before Patience Worth, housework mostly occupied Mrs. Curran’s time in the forenoon; in the afternoon she might take a nap, do some fancy work, and perhaps make calls; in the evening she would sing to entertain the family, or, very often, the whole family went to a picture show. She read little and almost never aloud.» — Mrs. Maupin describe el día corriente de Mrs. Curran antes de 1913.

«Except at very first, when Mrs. H. would slightly modernize the language of Patience Worth, the record has been faithfully kept exactly as delivered.» — Mrs. Maupin declara una excepción a la fidelidad del registro: al comienzo, Mrs. H. modernizaba algo la lengua. Es un dato que toca a la materia misma que el volumen reproduce.

«Mrs. Curran didn’t use words requiring use of the dictionary. I don’t remember her using it. [The foregoing was in oral answer. Later, in her written list of answers she says:] Mrs. Curran very seldom referred to the dictionary. Only perhaps to look up a simple word for its spelling.» — Mrs. Maupin, primero de viva voz y luego por escrito, acota el uso del diccionario en la casa.

«As a whole the writings were not considered very worth while. We thought it odd but gave no thought to them. More or less, as I remember it, the material seemed like that of an uneducated person.» — Mrs. Maupin describe el material del tablero ANTES de la aparición del nombre: sin valor a juicio de los presentes y con aire de persona sin instrucción.

«Never did I hear her say she believed that any spirits had returned. Mrs. H. would say, “Oh! this is from your father,” etc. Mrs. H. was greatly pleased with the sittings and urged Mrs. Curran to continue when Mrs. Curran would want to talk or do other things.» — Mrs. Maupin distingue las dos actitudes ante el tablero: Mrs. H. entusiasmada y atribuyendo mensajes a los muertos, Mrs. Curran queriendo hacer otra cosa.

«Never, before Patience Worth, did she utter anything like those “proverbs.” I should have dropped dead if she had. Nothing of the Patience Worth sort had ever manifested in Mrs. Curran. It was like a bolt out of the clear sky.» — Mrs. Maupin da la imagen que el volumen recoge de casi todos los testigos: el rayo en cielo despejado.

«She had no hallucinations, delusions, hysteria. I never knew her to do odd or queer things—she was like other people.» — Mrs. Maupin niega el cuadro clínico que una explicación psicopatológica pediría.

«These are now “ my religion” and I think it incredible that my stepmother, who has been more a sister, should be capable of them. The very idea makes me laugh.» — Mrs. Maupin declara a la vez su adhesión a los escritos y su incredulidad de que su madrastra pueda ser la autora: las dos cosas juntas, sin conciliarlas.

«This witness was very sparing and conservative in his testimony, probably because he was to marry Mrs. Curran, as he has since done. He was for some twenty years the head of a military academy, and is a man of established integrity.» — Prince declara el interés que tenía el testigo en el asunto —se casó con Mrs. Curran después— y lo pone por escrito en vez de callarlo.

«So far as I have known or understood, she had no outstanding qualities to report until the “ Patience Worth” work began.» — Dr. H. H. Rogers, tras describirla como muchacha sin rasgos notables, cifra en el trabajo de Patience Worth el corte.

«Mr. Curran has passed on, and it never occurred to him to draw up any formal statement, and those who investigated the case during his lifetime were so familiar with his testimony that it probably did not occur to any of them to ask him to set it down.» — Prince explica por qué el testimonio del marido va como indirecto: murió sin dejar declaración formal, y a nadie se le ocurrió pedírsela.

«But there is the undoubted fact that he was prejudiced against ouija boards» — Prince construye el testimonio indirecto de John H. Curran sobre su hostilidad previa al tablero; la frase sigue en la plana siguiente, donde el troceo la corta.

«His exclamations of wonder and delight before the interest of literary and prominent people had been attracted, are explainable only on the basis that he never knew his wife to be capable of anything of the sort.» — Prince lee las exclamaciones que el registro conserva del marido como indicio indirecto de que no le conocía tal capacidad a su mujer.

«Mr. Reedy was won over from incredulity and hostility to wonder and confidence and testified in his energetic fashion that he would bet his head on the honesty of both the Currans.» — Prince resume el giro de Reedy, de la hostilidad a la confianza, con la fórmula que el propio Reedy usaba.

«While I am inclined to be skeptical and take very little on faith, I have every confidence that Mrs. Curran’s representations as to her early history and lack of educational advantages are absolutely true.» — E. H. Garnett, abogado de Chicago y el único testigo que autoriza su nombre, declara su confianza en lo que Mrs. Curran cuenta de su historia temprana.

«That the poems she produces immediately on request are from memory, I do not believe possible. I have on a number of occasions seen her produce, orally and without a moment’s hesitation, from twenty to thirty poems on diverse, abstract and concrete subjects given to her by audiences.» — Garnett descarta la memoria como explicación de la composición inmediata, y lo apoya en lo que dice haber presenciado: veinte o treinta poemas seguidos sobre temas dados por el público.

«During the first stage of the ouija board experiments, which occurred at irregular intervals beginning in July, 1912, the hand of Mrs, Emily G. Hutchings was always on the board with that of Mrs. Curran.» — Prince fecha en julio de 1912 la primera etapa y nombra a la segunda mano sobre el tablero.

«The two were making a call on a neighbor who had an ouija board, and during the call there came what purported to be a message from a relative of Mrs. Hutchings. Thereupon the latter bought a board and took it to Mrs. Curran house, with the idea of continuing these curious experiments.» — Prince reconstruye el origen del tablero en casa de los Curran.

«Mrs, Hutchings appears to have taken much interest in the experiments of the following months, but Mrs. Curran remained indifferent and had to be coaxed to the board.» — Prince contrasta el interés de una y la indiferencia de la otra, y declara que el testimonio es consistente en ese punto.

«It appears that the “ messages,” professing to come from different persons, were of a rather banal character—the usual stuff of an unevidential character which could easily have been the product of the subconscious minds of those whose hands were on the board.» — Prince describe el material previo a Patience Worth como banal y explicable por la subconsciencia de las dos mujeres.

«Nor were any records kept up to June 22, 1914.» — dato de método que Prince consigna sobre la primera etapa: no hay registro anterior a esa fecha.

«A new name and an unknown one seemed to be struggling to come through, at first understood to be “ Pat-C, Pat-C, Pat-C” (the first three and seventh letters of “ Patience”). Naturally it was thought that some Irishman was trying to communicate.» — Prince relata el episodio previo al nombre, con las letras que el tablero daba.

«According to my theory, it was the strong suggestion of this supposition, stimulated by many leading questions, which induced various ouija board remarks, at this and subsequent sittings, appropriate to an Irishman.» — Prince marca como teoría suya, no como hecho, la explicación por sugestión del episodio irlandés.

«who had been all along contemptuous of what was going on, pretended to recognize the communicator as one Pat McQuillan whom he had known, and to verify certain statements of his.» — Prince atribuye al marido la invención del comunicante irlandés Pat McQuillan, y en la misma plana la califica de broma que se le fue de las manos.

«Mrs, Hutchings believed, and still believes, that both these earlier and the later productions were by different communicators, pointing for proof to their varying styles.» — el desacuerdo se consigna sin armonizar: Mrs. Hutchings sostiene la autoría múltiple por variación de estilo, y Prince responde enseguida que hasta ahí el estilo le parece el mismo.

«Remembering that those who stand for the theory of multiple authorship do so necessarily in conformity with the belief in spirit origin of the whole, it is rather shocking to think of such a continuous exhibition, otherwise, of spirituality, wisdom and sound ethics, as contacted at every point with falsehood.» — Prince objeta la autoría múltiple por su costo interno: quien la sostiene cree también en el origen espiritual, y tendría que aceptar mentira continua junto a moral elevada.

«On June 22nd, after “ p-a-t ” had come several times, this sentiment was received: “ Oh, why let sorrow steel thy heart? Thy bosom is but its foster-mother, the world its cradle and the loving home its grave.”» — según el registro que Prince transcribe, esta es la primera sentencia que se decidió conservar, recibida el 22 de junio antes de que el nombre estuviera completo.

«It may be well to state that Mrs, Mary E. Pollard acted as-amanu- | enses at all these sittings and those to follow for a considerable period. [Mrs. Hutchings took the records home and transcribed them on the typewriter.» — Prince consigna quién hacía qué en la mesa: Mrs. Mary E. Pollard como amanuense y Mrs. Hutchings transcribiendo a máquina en su casa. La grafía del apellido va tal como la imprime el troceo.

«The board seemed to be possessed with unusual strength at i sitting and started immediately as follows: “Many moons ago I lived. Again I come—Patience Worth my name.”» — el anuncio del 8 de julio de 1913 tal como el cuerpo del libro lo imprime, con la fórmula que después repetirán la solapa y los reseñistas.

«Wait, I would speak with thee. If thou shalt live, then so shall I. I make my bread at thy hearth. Good friends, let us be merrie. The time for work is past. Let the tabby drowse and blink her wisdom to the firelog.”» — según el volumen, Patience Worth dicta enseguida esta segunda intervención, ya en la lengua arcaizante y con el registro doméstico que caracterizará todo el corpus.

«Patience Worth could not be brought to place any valuation on giving data about her alleged life on earth. She insisted that the only self of her which is of value to the world is to be found in her utterances.» — Prince consigna la reserva de la propia comunicante sobre los datos de su vida terrena, y en la misma nota advierte que puede leerse como esquiva.

«This may be thought a clever dodge, but it is not rare in automatic writings devoid of other evidence of any but subconscious origin to find autobiographical details enough, usually likewise unevidential.» — Prince pone por escrito la lectura desfavorable de esa reserva y la matiza con lo que sabe de otros escritos automáticos.

«Patience Worth professed that she was born in England in the Seventeenth Century, lived there and worked in the house and on the fields until a woman, migrated to America and, not long after, was killed in a foray by the Indians.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth se declara inglesa del siglo XVII, emigrada a América y muerta en una incursión india.

«But when asked if the chief of the Indians was Philip she did not take the bait, but rather contemptuously asked her questioner whether he, were he at the end of a blade, would be asking the names of his slayers.» — Prince registra que la comunicante no toma el anzuelo de la pregunta que la ataría a la guerra del rey Felipe.

«Later Mr. Yost, thinking that the reference to a wing might have been a hint of the dorhawk or dorbeetle or both, asked: “ About the wing, was it beetle, or hawk or both?” Patience Worth replied: “Thou hast turned o’ a stone,” which was her way of saying he had found something. She added: “Thee hast the cat by the tail.” Thus we would have Dorsetshire adumbrated.» — Prince reconstruye cómo se llegó a Dorset por adivinanza de palabras, y declara que la lectura de las pistas es de Mr. Yost antes que suya.

«He had the curiosity to visit Dorset, and found a number of interesting correspondences with Patience Worth’s statements, the cliffs, the old monastery, the winding way, etc. These he regarded as impressive but expressly declares that he does not think they could be regarded as a demonstration.» — el límite va dentro de la propia cita: Yost encuentra correspondencias en Dorset y a la vez declara que no las tiene por demostración.

«There was displayed in Patience Worth’s poems a wealth of description of the sea before Mrs. Curran had ever seen the ocean in her life.» — Prince señala el desajuste que le parece más difícil de explicar por experiencia propia de la médium.

«We see a small red-headed peasant girl, toiling at the humblest tasks, often chided by her mother and sometimes by the parish minister, a young woman of voluble and witty propensities, fond of finery and not averse to the other sex, considerably curbed in all these inclinations, because of the ideas of the day and the narrowness of the religion, but with a sense of humor which largely sustained her.» — Prince describe la figura que resulta de juntar todas las alusiones, y la presenta como retrato consistente, no como identidad probada.

«Well I remember a certain church, with its wee windows and its prim walls, with its sanctity and meekness, with its aloofness and chilling godliness. Well I remember the Sabbath and its quietude of uneasiness, wherein the creaking of the wood was an infernalism, the droning and scuffing of the menfolk’s shoes and the rustle of the clothes of the dames and maids, the squeaking of the benches, and the drowsy humming of some busy bee who broke the Sabbath’s law. Aye, well I remember the heat that foretold the wrath of God, making the good man [minister] sweat. Aye, and Heaven seemed far, far.”» — según el volumen, Patience Worth dicta este recuerdo de la iglesia de su aldea, con el detalle sensorial que Prince considera marca del conjunto.

«I had a silver buckle on my boot, and no man knew it save the good man. He looked soberly, with the soberness he turned upon the Word, at the buckle. Aye, and thy handmaid sent him a wee upward look. Aye, and he rubbed his chin and coughed mightily and spat. And when the next Sabbath came he raged mightily against buckles. And hark—he looked to find the buckle after the Word. It was there, and lawk! I curtsied that he should see it not.”» — según el volumen, Patience Worth cuenta el episodio de la hebilla y el párroco: la clase de anécdota que Prince llama de interés más curioso que probatorio.

«But she steadily and rather sensibly holds that her recollections would not be accepted as evidence; and reiterates in 1924 “ Behold, my wares; herein am I.”» — la comunicante remite, según el volumen, a su obra y no a su biografía; Prince fecha la repetición de la fórmula en 1924.

«Wilt thou but stay thy tung! On rock-ribbed shores beat wisdom’s waves. Why speak for me? My tung was loosed when thine was yet to be.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde así a una broma de Mrs. Pollard sobre su pasado; el troceo imprime *tung* por *tongue*.

«A secret held too close may inflame quite as sorely as one talked over-much,» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta con un proverbio a la pregunta de si la reprimenda iba dirigida a alguien en particular.

«An owl is silent and credited with much wisdom. A wise hen betrays not its nest with a loud cackle.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth reprende la charla de la mesa con dos imágenes de corral; la frase arranca en la plana anterior, donde el troceo la corta.

«T tell ye I be settin’ the pigs in mine ain pigsty. Aye, and I be shellin’ the grain i the feedin’ wi’ mine ain hands, and the sow who hath bringed them forth wert me. . Nay, nay, this be one path that be not trod by hosts.”» — según la nota de Prince, así responde Patience Worth cuando el Dr. J. H. Hyslop sugiere, al pasar la dictación de The Sorry Tale a Samuel Wheaton, que se trate de dos espíritus distintos. El troceo abre con *T* donde el impreso lleva la comilla de apertura.

«Here is the same adoring reverence for infancy that we find in those utterances in the division of this book Infancy, which are written in the “ dialect,” and the same contempt for the pride of learning, the same teaching that wisdom is derived from sincere contemplation of the things which are simplest and nearest at hand which pervade all of Patience Worth’s philosophy.» — Prince enuncia lo que toma por el núcleo doctrinal del conjunto: reverencia por la infancia, desdén del orgullo del saber y sabiduría sacada de lo más simple y cercano.

«Oh worry, worry, canst thou understand the purring of the cat?» — según el volumen, así responde Patience Worth cuando Mrs. H. le pide que traduzca a inglés moderno: la negativa a explicarse es constante en el table talk.

«A good wife keepeth the floor well sanded and rushes in plenty to burn. The pewter should reflect the fires bright glow.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a la pregunta sobre las mujeres de hoy con una estampa doméstica del siglo XVII, no con un juicio.

«Some folk, like the bell without a clapper, go clanging on in good faith, believing the good folk can hear.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth replica así a quien se queja de sus reprimendas.

«Dost thou flatter thyself that today’s thoughts and deeds were born today, by [of] such a fledgling as thou?» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta así a la objeción de Mrs. C. de que la frase sobre la guerra y el infierno sea expresión de la Guerra Civil estadounidense y no de su época. Es de los pocos lugares del table talk donde el anacronismo se discute en la mesa.

«Seven is odd. ’Tis so my age. ’Tis odd; I forget it.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth esquiva la pregunta por su edad con un juego de palabras.

«A fiery tongue belongs to one worth burning. The cat is drowsing.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde a la invitada Miss R. y, en la misma línea, señala el sopor de los presentes.

«A half-baked loaf is porridge soaked to fit for eating. Perchance thou wouldst crave the question “thee or thou? ” soaked for thee,» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta así a que la mesa discuta su gramática en vez de atender al sentido.

«A maid may surely see the folly of over-married hussies.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth desvía con una agudeza la pregunta de si fue casada o soltera.

«In ye days of better times, a maid dare not to ask a man.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth remite la pregunta sobre su soltería a las costumbres de su tiempo.

«It taketh a wise man to make a good fool» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a Mr. H., que le pregunta si lo tiene por estúpido.

«If I interpret correctly, Patience Worth is anxious to compose, and the garrulity of the company, and its questions prompted by curiosity are defeating her purpose. Hence her good-natured jibes by which she is gradually educating them to pay attention to what she regards as of higher importance.» — Prince ofrece su lectura del carácter mordaz del table talk —marcada como interpretación suya— y la explica por el choque entre la voluntad de componer y la curiosidad de la mesa.

«My age, my life and death are naught to you.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth corta así las preguntas biográficas de esa sesión.

«The cock who croweth loudest to call the hens seldom hath a real fat worm, but expecteth a loud cackle.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde al anfitrión que se ofrecía a explicar el truco del tablero.

«Ah climb not the stars to find a pebble... . Why strip the rose? The scent is thine without the waste. .. . O, hell itself is but a home for doubters.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a Mr. A., que exige una pregunta silenciosa como condición para creer; el corte con puntos suspensivos es del propio impreso.

«So wouldst thou, upon humble knee and with the beggar’s whine, ask alms of Him, when He has made thee man? Then crave it as thy right and thank as man to man,» — según el volumen, Patience Worth objeta la actitud mendicante ante Dios y propone la de hombre a hombre: es de sus formulaciones religiosas más explícitas en el table talk.

«I don’t believe it is Patience who is with us tonight. Twice she has said “ has,” and Patience always says “ hath.”» — Mrs. C. plantea en la mesa el criterio de identificación por la lengua: dos usos de *has* le bastan para dudar de quién dicta.

«Nay, the “hath” doth contain the “ t.”» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a la objeción gramatical de la mesa sobre su uso de *has* por *hath*.

«Oh, my poor heart would beat most faintly ’neath my kirtle, did I feed upon thy faith.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde a la pregunta de si las condiciones de la sesión son malas midiendo la fe de los presentes.

«So wishing, then, will change thee from a dolt. Oh, cast a faggot to the fire. A cold hearth shall drive from thee Fortune’s shade away. Hunger, then, oh ye who empty life’s cupboards to the dogs and remember not the doves who coo for but a crumb.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth replica a la convicción de Mrs. P. de que desear con fuerza trae lo deseado; Prince califica la réplica de descortés en la línea que la introduce.

«This seems to be the first instance of asking Patience Worth to compose something on a given subject, and apparently the significance of the result did not strike the company.» — Prince fecha en diciembre de 1913 el primer encargo de composición sobre tema dado, y anota que a los presentes se les pasó lo que aquello significaba. El procedimiento será después el centro probatorio del caso.

«Draw ye thrice and blow a silver cloud; once a deep draught of spicy wisdom, another for a foolish whimsey, and then a third for friendship’s sake. For wisdom or for folly—what cares a friend?» — según el volumen, esta es la primera composición por encargo: un sentimiento para acompañar una pipa de regalo.

«To prove a fact, needst thou a book of words, when e’en the sparrow’s chirp telleth thee more. A tale unfolded by the Bishop’s drudge may hold the meat for thousands, while dust and web are strong on his Eminence. The road to higher plains leadeth not along the steeple.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta al reclamo del mundo por señales de la inmortalidad oponiendo el gorrión al libro, y desliga la vía religiosa de la institución.

«Chant ye a creed and wordy prayer, reeking with juice squeezed from thy smug fat store of self-love, expecting favor from the God who but enjoys the» — según el volumen, Patience Worth objeta la plegaria interesada; el troceo corta la frase en la plana, que sigue con una línea que el escaneo deja ilegible.

«It was the old ‘nuisance of stopping and making what to her were trivial inquiries.» — Prince nombra el estorbo constante de las sesiones: las preguntas de la mesa interrumpiendo la composición.

«Dream ye or travel ye, knowest thou that fair land to which the traveler is loath to go, but loath, so loath to leave? Ah, the mystery of the snail’s shell is deeper far than this.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde así al sueño que Mrs. P. cuenta de su marido muerto.

«And ever cloak ye the naked truth. Needest thou see what God Himself sealeth thine eyes to make thee know?» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a la pregunta de si la mente humana puede comprender la vida ulterior, y devuelve la pregunta en vez de responderla.

«Zounds! ’twas hard coming. The Sabboth [sic] house smell is on ye yet. Twirlie, twirlie goes the mill, still grinding stale grain.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde con sorna a la observación de que es la muerte la que sella los ojos; el *[sic]* de *Sabboth* es del propio impreso.

«A pot of wisdom should boil to nothing ere a doubter deemeth it broth worth tasting.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth interviene cuando la mesa discute cómo recibirá el mundo sus dictados.

«So then, the rose may fear to bloom lest the ghosts of sisters prove their right to be foremost in the garden,» — según el volumen, Patience Worth replica a que se le señale como antigua una expresión suya.

«I don’t believe Patience said that about the rosary. She was not a Catholic. P. W.: To catch a flea, needs be a dog?» — el desacuerdo doctrinal se plantea en la mesa: Mrs. H. objeta que una protestante del XVII usara la palabra rosario, y la respuesta que el volumen registra no lo aclara.

«My pettie-skirt hath a scallop. Mayhap that will help thy history. Mrs. C.: The little villain! she’s caught on to the fact that we’re planning to put her in a book. P. W.: Yea, and tell thou of my buckled boots—and add a cap-string.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth se burla de que planeen hacer un libro con ella ofreciendo detalles de indumentaria en lugar de datos.

«So doth the piggie who scratcheth upon an oak deem his fleas the falling acorn’s cause.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta así cuando Mrs. C. reclama crédito por ser el medio de la escritura.

«Nay, the fleece is pulled to yarn. I fain would weave. . . . So thou deemest wisdom to drop for thee like hose from him who looseth his points.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth niega la interpretación que la mesa da a su imagen del hilado y la vuelve contra ellos.

«Thus far something has been given from every sitting. But from now on sittings are passed over, together with much interesting conversational material, without notice. The percentage of literary material gradually increased.» — Prince declara el cambio de criterio de su antología a partir de este punto: deja de dar algo de cada sesión, y señala que la proporción de material literario iba creciendo.

«It will be understood that P. W.’s conversation was usually interspersed between the dictation of poems, parts of the long stories, etc. The examples of years later than 1914 which follow are not necessarily better than a great many other passages, but have been selected to show the range, versatility and readiness of her talk, and that characteristics shown during the first year are still visible.» — Prince declara el criterio con que elige los ejemplos del capítulo: no los mejores, sino los que muestran alcance, versatilidad y continuidad de rasgos desde el primer año.

«Patience, you talk like Hypatia. P. W.: Aye, and thou talkest like unto Lucifer!» — intercambio de 1915 entre Mr. Reedy —el troceo imprime *Reepy*— y la comunicante, con la comparación con Hipatia devuelta como pulla.

«Dr. P. took his turn at the board, remarking that he wondered what Patience would have to say about the opinion of certain Jesuits who claimed, she was a wandering soul,» — el volumen registra la objeción ajena que se le lleva a la mesa: la de unos jesuitas que la tenían por alma errante.

«Lor’, the outlands shall shew them peaked o’ cowls! Say ye unto the dealer o’ His bread, he knoweth that his cup holdeth not the filling 0? man. Nay, nay, His wine be pressed o’ all, yea, e’en the blighted grape! And nay man’s word measureth His land nor shutteth His gate unto His own! Say ye more: E’en an holy one may drink wisdom out an ass’s track.» — según el volumen, así responde Patience Worth a la acusación jesuita: la gracia no se mide por el ministro ni la sabiduría por su fuente.

«We had all had so many barnyard names applied to us that we were afraid to speak for starting Patience in our direction with a verbal onslaught,» — Prince describe, en primera persona del plural, el efecto de las pullas de corral sobre los presentes.

«I may pluck the stars and roll them about, set the sun spinning, yea, or make the moon to drag the tides like a culprit, aye, or I may set me up monstrous words making free with wisdom like a fool maketh free with an apple, aye, or I might for to stride in seven strides the earth’s girdle, but I’d rather for to make a fool laugh!» — según el volumen, Patience Worth enumera prodigios cósmicos para dejarlos por debajo de hacer reír a un tonto.

«Laughter is the flint that kindleth mirth, and no man is worth a whit without the spark,» — según el volumen, la fórmula con que Patience Worth cierra ese pasaje sobre la risa.

«I ha’e consorted with folly and known wise men but alawk, the leanin’ that be mine be toward folly!» — según el volumen, Patience Worth declara su inclinación por la locura frente a la sabiduría.

«Think ye ’pon it; how them that draw them pious, yea, sober faces and pray them in fullsome humility; think ye ’pon it, should the great God in His gentleness smile!» — según el volumen, Patience Worth opone la risa a la devoción de cara larga, y atribuye la sonrisa a Dios mismo.

«I war not with wits like him who warreth with broadaxe. Nay, man may not meet wits with silence and not feel dull.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth pincha el silencio del Dr. W.

«I need nay jaw within which to hang my tongue. Ye may not stop a flood by willin’ o’ it. Nay, it taketh timber, aye and the timber which stoppeth this flood is wits.» — según el volumen, así contesta Patience Worth a que se le atribuya a Mrs. C. una salida suya: es de los pasajes donde la cuestión de la autoría se discute en la propia mesa.

«Lor’, I be a-tremour! Wait ye a whit, I’ll set thee a task. Ah, lawk ame! Should it be a new buckle or a kirtle? Alawk! Alawk! I tell ’ee, sirrah, it shall be a word frae out thy heart. I see the script wi’ e’es aye and drink me in the potion like a simperin’ wench.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth pide a Mr. Yost, por regalo de Navidad, una palabra salida de su corazón en vez de un objeto.

«Nay, nay, nay, the stuff be stolen. ’Tis His.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth desvía el elogio de Mrs. R. atribuyendo a Dios la materia de lo que dicta.

«Some one mentioned the fact that no matter what Patience wrote it all had the taste of her individuality. “The smack o’ the brewster,” interjected Patience.» — Prince registra el comentario de la mesa sobre la unidad de estilo del conjunto, y la respuesta de una línea con que la comunicante lo recoge.

«Let man be at this trick! I shall set his wits at such a spin that he shall feel that he hath mounted the West wind and wert chasing the East.» — según el volumen, así responde Patience Worth al Dr. W., que sostenía en la propia sesión que todo era producto de la individualidad de Mrs. Curran.

«Man, stand before God at the end of thy wisdom and bow.» — según el volumen, con esta línea cierra Patience Worth su respuesta al doctor escéptico.

«I am wholly thine; athin thy hand have I delivered me like a whit o’ dust. Lovest thou me, hold thy hand close upon me. I may not raise my voice against thee, for in so doing I become less, inasmuch as I have declared doubt o’ thee, that that thou doest becometh me. Shouldst thou betray me then have I betrayed Earth; the words thou utterest from thy lips become mine.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth se pone en manos de los presentes y ata su suerte a la de ellos: si la traicionan, dice, la traición es de la tierra.

«These and similar expressions showed that P. W. was gently chiding somebody. Only gradually it dawned upon those present that she did not want them to be concerned whether publishers accepted her literature or not, nor to have the least taint of wishing to make money by it.» — Prince interpreta la serie de reproches como advertencia contra el ánimo de lucro, y anota que a los presentes les costó entenderlo.

«I need nay prate, laddie. Let thy heart bathe athin this fount. ’Tis free gi’ed unto all who love me. Ye shalt not hope ’pon love for love is not created o’ matter and may not be barted for the clatter o’ metal.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a la broma de Mr. Curran sobre quedarse pobres: su amor se da libre y no se cambia por metal.

«From my study of the history of the case I should say that it has been as free from mercenary taint as is the work of artists, writers and clergymen generally. And P. W. desired that it should be exceptionally so—Eb.» — nota al pie de Prince que respalda esa lectura con su propio examen de la historia del caso.

«Man, he be a jester, wi’ a crown o’ bells. When he deemeth he be wise, he carrieth such an pack o’ words that his back breaketh. Aye, and when he deemeth he be a fool, did he but know it, he oft walketh with a staff which is wisdom!» — según el volumen, Patience Worth invierte los papeles de sabio y necio.

«There be little difference between ‘is’ and ‘if ’—yet eternity hangs between them.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde así a que se hable del consuelo de la certeza sobre el más allá.

«How does it happen that in the poetry you write there are echoes of poets who wrote since you lived? ” P. W.: “ There be aneath the every stone a hidden voice. I but loose the stone, and lo, the voice!» — el Dr. L. le plantea la objeción del anacronismo —ecos de poetas posteriores a su vida— y la respuesta que el volumen registra no la resuelve, la reformula.

«Lor’, where thy feet track!» — según el volumen, así contesta Patience Worth cuando Mr. V. le pregunta adónde irá al morir.

«I may roll about the sun as a pebble and draw down the sky for thee to play upon or send thee a song a wise ’un might envy, but I’m danged, and it be not primmed, if I be the keeper of thee!» — según el volumen, Patience Worth se niega a ser tenida por guardiana de nadie, aun concediéndose poderes cósmicos en la misma frase.

«Did Shakespeare write the works credited to him?”, asked Mr. Yost. ‘I sayed the thistledown wert the skin-shod, buskined one’s.” “ Now about Atlantis?”’, asked Mrs. Smith. “ Fetch ye a dominie,”» — las dos preguntas de erudición que la mesa le pone —la autoría de Shakespeare y la Atlántida— reciben respuestas oblicuas; el volumen las imprime seguidas.

«Pin a man’s faith up in a petticoat of argument and ye won’t know the wench.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth objeta la fe convertida en argumento.

«There is no thing which gives thee sorrow like the ynderstanding of earth’s hunger. I mean nay for bread. Ah, my beloved, ’tis a’ about ye. I ha’e seen eyes that wert starvin’, aye, they ha’e looked *pon a bone o” hope and strived for to fatten souls. I ha’e seen hearts famished, anguished in the gnaw of hunger. I ha’e seen flesh hungered, too, but this be naught to the hunger o’ the eyes and hearts. See ye unto it then, that the bread thou dispenseth be rich in the give of thy substance, thy very substance, the fat o’ thy soul.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth distingue el hambre de pan del hambre de ojos y corazones, y pide que lo que se reparta salga de la propia sustancia.

«Sleep is the field within which seeds spurt, beneath the share of waking. The field in anguish receiveth the grain, and sleep bequickens it. Many’s the wise man who writ his dream and believed his wit wert waked.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth responde a la pregunta por la sabiduría tomada durante el sueño con la imagen del campo sembrado.

«Space be the shadow of material. With material removed there be nay shadow. Yet space be like to fancy and phantoms. It containeth all and is all. Removed from dimension one becomes as a wave of sound—a circlet perfected—neither coming—going—or gone—but arrived at all Time.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth contesta a la pregunta por otros mundos con una definición del espacio como sombra de la materia y del ser sin dimensión como onda sonora.

«He who can contemplate his life with an eye to the whole, setting little value upon instant or incident, hath a-happy trick. His wisdom is proper tuned. He may read the script of heaven complacently and catch a gnat while his brother, forgetting to read the script, is intent upon the catching.» — según el volumen, Patience Worth formula así, en 1923, la disposición que llama sabiduría bien afinada.

«W. T. Allison is a prominent Canadian writer and professor of English literature in the University of Manitoba. The following is quoted and abstracted from his articles in the Winnipeg Globe, of September 21 and 29, 1918.» — Prince presenta al primer reseñista de la sección y da la fuente y las fechas de sus artículos.

«He has never been convinced by spirit messages though he has not denied.» — Prince sitúa la posición previa de Allison ante los mensajes espirituales, sin adjudicarle creencia.

«No book outside the Book of books gives such an intimate picture of the earthly life of Jesus, and no book has ever thrown such a clear light upon the manner of life of Jews and Romans in the Palestine of the day of our Lord» — el profesor W. T. Allison, de la Universidad de Manitoba, coloca The Sorry Tale inmediatamente después de la Biblia como retrato de la vida terrena de Jesús.

«I have been amazed at the rapidity of Mrs. Curran’s utterances. . . . And yet while the method of communication was so fast that I couldn’t begin to keep pace with the spelling, when Mr. Curran read over each paragraph of the novel being composed, it made not only sense, but beautiful English, such portrayals as were perfect in metre and rich in imagination.» — Allison declara lo que dice haber presenciado: una dictación tan rápida que él no podía seguir el deletreo, y que al releerse resultaba inglés acabado.

«In one evening fifteen poems were produced in one hour and a quarter, an average of five minutes for each one. All were poured out with a speed that Tennyson or Browning could never have hoped to equal, and some of the fifteen lyrics are so good that either of those great poets might be proud to have written them.» — Allison cifra la velocidad de composición y la compara con Tennyson y Browning; la comparación es suya, no de Prince.

«Suppose a woman of your acquaintance, one who had lived in your town or city for many years and had never written even a letter or news item for a local paper, began to dictate to her husband first-class poetry in quaint idiom, novels up to the George Eliot standard in modern style, to say nothing of witty or profound remarks brought out in casual conversation with friends or visitors. What would you make of such a performance?» — Allison plantea el caso como pregunta al lector, y es la forma en que el volumen entero está construido.

«No words or phrases in story or poem need to be changed. To me, this is one of the most striking features of this mysterious business, for every writer, even the most practiced hand, knows how often he has to change words or phrases, perhaps whole sentences, before his manuscript is smooth enough for publication.» — Allison señala como rasgo más llamativo la ausencia de corrección, medida contra su propia experiencia de escritor.

«If Mrs. Curran is not a perfectly normal woman, independent of possession by a subconscious self, then I have never seen one.» — Allison objeta la hipótesis de la personalidad secundaria por la normalidad que observa en Mrs. Curran.

«Tf Mrs. Curran is producing this literature out of materials stored up in her subconscious mind, she must in time past have gathered the raw material in a normal way. You cannot make bricks out of straw. . . . Mrs. Curran never finished a high school education.? She read few novels by Dickens, and the Mill on the Floss by George Eliot, but was never much given to books.» — el profesor Slaght, citado por Allison, acepta la hipótesis subconsciente y a la vez enuncia la condición que la haría falsa: la materia prima tuvo que entrar por vía normal. El troceo abre con *Tf* donde el impreso lleva la comilla y la I.

«She has never studied Seventeenth Century literature. Yet she dictates words to be found only in Milton’s time. Many such words have no meaning to her until hunted out by Mr. Yost in dialect dictionaries and old books.» — Allison señala la dificultad concreta: palabras de la época de Milton que la médium no entendía hasta que Mr. Yost las rastreaba en diccionarios dialectales.

«Even if it be granted that the answers to the questions propounded by myself and others present on the occasion were the product of Mrs. Curran’s subconscious mind, how wonderful must that submerged intellect be!» — Allison concede la hipótesis subconsciente y le devuelve el problema: entonces el intelecto sumergido es lo asombroso.

«Dr. Usher is a professor of history in Washington University, St. Louis, and the author of a number of books dealing with history.» — Prince presenta al segundo reseñista y su especialidad, que es la que da peso a lo que dice del trasfondo histórico.

«I am convinced of Mrs. Curran’s absolute innocence of any conscious attempt at authorship or at deception.» — Roland Greene Usher declara su posición sobre la buena fe de la médium, y la separa de cualquier juicio sobre el origen.

«Historically the book seems to me accurate enough. There, to be sure, are no dates given; no historical characters of known personality and pedigree are more than alluded to; no places about which we have detailed information (except Jerusalem) are described; indeed, Patience Worth’s method is to hint rather than to enumerate, to allude in stately phrase rather than to employ the sort of specific statement which historians could check.» — Usher acota su propio elogio: el relato alude en vez de enumerar, y por eso escapa a la verificación que un historiador haría.

«Truth to tell, historians do not know a great deal about those events, and upon that little they are not well agreed.» — Usher pone el límite del lado de su disciplina: sobre esos hechos los historiadores saben poco y no concuerdan.

«The only anachronism, if it be one, might be the term Jesus Christus applied to Him while he was yet alive. How definite our information is upon the use of that term I cannot say, but my impression is that students have regarded it as subsequent to the Crucifixion.» — Usher señala el único anacronismo que le parece posible, y lo deja marcado como impresión suya.

«The late Mr. Reedy was a man of brilliant intellect, who became famous as editor of “ Reedy’s Mirror.”» — Prince presenta al tercer reseñista, ya muerto cuando el libro se escribe.

«They are poetry—no question of that. They have not rhyme but they have rhythm, decidedly. They are more like blank verse than anything else, but they are not quite that. They are something like the much-discussed “ free verse” but they are not that either. In a way they are of Biblical quality.» — William Marion Reedy sitúa la forma de los poemas por descarte: ni rima, ni verso blanco, ni verso libre del todo.

«There are hundreds of words of strictly Anglo-Saxon origin, indeed more Anglo than Saxon. The speech is simpler than Chaucer, much simpler. It is as innocent of the elaborate words found in Piers’ “Ploughman.” It is as near anything I know to the very essence of folk speech.» — Reedy describe el léxico de Telka y lo sitúa por debajo de Chaucer en complicación.

«There is a sort of shorthand in the language too, a sort of condensation, as if to save time, a turning of nouns into verbs and vice versa, and a peculiar, persistent use of the prefix a. The word of is never used, always “o’.”» — Reedy enumera los rasgos gramaticales que después Prince analizará en el capítulo del dialecto: condensación, nombres vueltos verbos, prefijo *a-* y *o’* por *of*.

«I think I know literature. Some people who know it have said I do. I say that these communications are literature, and literature of no mean order. They are wonderful, aside from their origin, for content and for form. They are thoroughly consistent in form, too.» — Reedy declara su autoridad y con ella su juicio: aparte del origen, esto es literatura.

«I am no Spiritist. I do not believe that the souls of the dead set free come back to the souls that stay. . . . The cases set forth by the Society for Psychical Research mean nothing to me. Crookes and Lodge and all the rest of the necromancers have talked twaddle, as I thought, and still think» — Reedy declara su posición previa en los términos más ásperos, y el volumen la imprime entera: sitúa a Crookes y a Lodge entre quienes hablan sin fundamento.

«When I read the Patience Worth poems in the Globe-Democrat I was inclined to think that they were a bit of clever literary fakery, even as I believed, and still believe, that such is the character of Elsa Barker’s “ Letters of a Living Dead Man.”» — Reedy sitúa su primera lectura como sospecha de impostura literaria, y la empareja con un libro que sigue teniendo por tal.

«I do not think this poetry so great as Mr. Casper Yost thinks it. It does not equal Shakespeare or Spenser. It is not so great as Chaucer. But if there be any intelligences communicating poems by ouija board or otherwise, it does not follow that they must be Shakespeares, Spensers, Tennysons, or Sapphos or Mrs. Brownings. But it is good poetry, better poetry than we find in our magazines as a rule —poetry with a quality utterly its own.» — Reedy acota su elogio por debajo del de Yost y a la vez objeta la exigencia implícita: que una comunicación tenga que venir de un Shakespeare para valer.

«A well-known professor of English literature, an authority, indeed, upon the growth and use of the language, has read all, has seen and heard delivered much of the matter purporting to come from Patience Worth. He has studied it carefully in the light of all his knowledge. He has looked up the language used, in all the glossaries. There is no man, not even W. W. Skeat, whose opinion upon a point of early English linguistics I would more unhestitatingly accept than this professor’s.» — Reedy introduce a un filólogo anónimo cuyo juicio dice preferir incluso al de W. W. Skeat: el testimonio decisivo del capítulo es de alguien sin nombre.

«All the words are not of a given period, nor are they all from one early English locality. They are from almost all the counties and shires and many of them peculiar locutions to those subdivisions of England. They are always used in their exact original sense.» — según Reedy, el filólogo describe una lengua repartida por condados y épocas distintas y siempre usada en su sentido original.

«The language, as a whole, is of such a consistency of word-texture as no mere student could use through hundreds and hundreds of thousands of words without an occasional break into the speech of today.» — el argumento filológico que Reedy transmite: ningún estudioso sostendría esa textura por cientos de miles de palabras sin recaer en la lengua de hoy.

«This is probably precisely true of Telka, and nearly always true of the works not professedly in modern language, but there are a few exceptions, such as “ shack ” and “ knickerbockers,” Since Patience Worth has never laid any claim to purism, there was nothing to forbid her employing a neologism if it struck her fancy, but it is nevertheless extraordinary how seldom she has done so. She told me that she adopted some terms she saw in Mrs. Curran’s mind. And calling attention to a neologism had no effect in causing her thereafter to shun it—Eb.» — nota al pie de Prince que acota esa afirmación con excepciones medidas —*shack*, *knickerbockers*— y añade un dato que él mismo recogió: la comunicante le dijo tomar términos de la mente de Mrs. Curran.

«Patience Worth’s language is no special speech like that invented by Chatterton, the marvellous boy in those inimitable forgeries, the Rowley poems.» — Reedy descarta la comparación con la lengua inventada por Chatterton en las Rowley poems, que es el precedente obvio de falsificación arcaizante.

«She [Mrs. Curran] never tried to write anything of her own initiative in any early English forms. She knows nothing of that literature» — Reedy consigna que la médium nunca intentó escribir por su cuenta en formas del inglés antiguo.

«It requires the very highest form of intelligence and literary skill to put things simply in the ordinary speech of one’s own day.» — Reedy invierte el argumento habitual: la simpleza del léxico, dice, es lo difícil, no lo fácil.

«I suspected, somehow, a literary trick, a clever imposture. . . I had written a disdainfully negational paragraph about the validity and verity of the Patience Worth experiences. I had written so hastily ’ that I had hurt Mrs. Curran, whom I did not know.» — Reedy relata su propio cambio de posición y admite haber escrito a la ligera contra una persona a la que no conocía.

«I went with more of doubt than of hope and faith, with possibly a little contempt for myself for wasting an afternoon.» — Reedy describe con qué disposición fue a la primera sesión.

«Mrs. Curran, the medium of Patience Worth’s writings, does not recall ever having heard any one speak or read such a language as she spells out for Patience Worth.» — Reedy señala que la médium no recuerda haber oído nunca una lengua como la que deletrea.

«It was only after philological experts had brought their knowledge to bear that the thought in the words became clear to Mrs. Curran or those who wrote out the words she spelled off the ouija board.» — Reedy señala el rasgo que a su juicio pesa más: palabras deletreadas sin que nadie en la sala entendiera su sentido hasta que los filólogos lo aclararon.

«Her language never varies. It is consistent ever... . You read and read and read, and Patience Worth is ever Patience Worth in the texture of her speech, the tinge and tang of thought. She has her “ style,” as clearly marked, as strongly individualized as the style of Dr. Johnson or Carlyle or Browning.» — Reedy atribuye a la lengua dictada un estilo propio y reconocible, comparable en marca al de tres prosistas ingleses.

«There is nothing in the conversation of Mrs. Curran that has the peculiar sapidity of Patience Worth though Mrs. Curran talks well. If Patience Worth is a subconscious personality of Mrs. Curran, there are no outcroppings of Patience Worth in Mrs. Curran’s manner or language.» — Reedy pone la objeción concreta a la hipótesis de la personalidad subconsciente: no hay afloramientos de una en la otra.

«I am not prepared to give an opinion whether her stuff comes from Patience Worth or not. There is no doubt, however, that she is producing remarkable literature. How she does it, I cannot say.» — Edgar Lee Masters se abstiene expresamente sobre el origen y a la vez califica lo producido; la abstención es su posición, no una falta de ella.

«There is only one answer to that, said Mr. Masters, It simply can’t be done.» — según el registro de la sesión de noviembre de 1916, Masters responde así a la pregunta de si alguien podría escribir poesía en esas condiciones.

«Mr. Masters writes that he is quite willing that this should be quoted, with the understanding that he meant (which should be obvious) wnder the circumstances—instant dictation, subjects given by others, etc.» — Prince consigna el alcance con que el propio Masters autoriza la cita, y con ello acota lo que la frase quiere decir.

«Neither the “ subconscious mind,” that glib resort of the amateur psychologist, nor “ telepathy,” that amiable, sturdy and most serviceable pack horse of the near-materialist, provides a satisfying explanation.» — Lawrence Gilman, crítico literario y musical, niega que las dos explicaciones corrientes basten, y las nombra con desdén.

«Its medium is an archaic speech whose prevailing characteristics seem to be those of seventeenth century English, but containing elements of a usage still older, and occasionally employing words and phrases that are strange to the English of any period, and to any known English dialect.» — Gilman describe la lengua como inglés del XVII con estratos más viejos y con elementos que no cuadran con ningún dialecto conocido.

«However, Mr. Gilman thinks that Mr. Yost goes too far in comparing Patience Worth with Shelley.» — Prince consigna también el punto en que el reseñista se aparta del entusiasmo de Yost.

«Very little of this matter is the frequent trash of involuntary writing. Nearly all of it is to be taken seriously as literature. Much of it is literature of a high order.» — Henry Holt, editor del primer libro, distingue esta materia del desecho corriente de la escritura involuntaria.

«Authorities are always shy, and wisely so, of publicly endorsing questionable matters, so we are not yet free to quote some conclusive confirmation of this opinion which has come to us.» — Holt declara tener respaldos de autoridades que no puede citar, y da la razón: el recelo público ante lo cuestionable.

«I heard one man, a professor of literature of high standing in a university, talk for perhaps fifteen minutes in terms of high eulogy of what Patience Worth has produced, yet when I asked him to reduce to writing a part of what he had said so enthusiastically to a local audience he looked at me doubtfully, nor did he answer the letter echoing the request.» — Prince refrenda esa observación con un caso propio: un profesor que elogió el material en público y no quiso ponerlo por escrito.

«But these matters have nothing to do with the quality of the literature. That would be the same, even if one stood on his head to write it—an undignified position.» — Prince separa la cuestión del origen de la del valor literario, y lo dice con la ironía que emplea poco en el volumen.

«the literature would have produced a much profounder effect than even it has done. If this is so, it will take its rightful rank some day, if it has to wait as long as Moby Dick for due recognition.» — Prince sostiene que el marco del tablero perjudicó la recepción literaria, y ofrece como precedente el retraso en el reconocimiento de Moby Dick; la frase empieza en la plana anterior, donde el troceo la corta.

«It has of course been suggested that she [Mrs. Curran] plays the Patience Worth trick for the sake of notoriety, but how utterly unsupposable it is that a woman capable of composing work of which some specimens are declared by competent critics to be very close to masterpieces, should, loving notoriety, try to throw upon another intelligence the credit of her work, and smother it under a language which nobody uses, and that it requires some effort to understand.» — Prince objeta la hipótesis de la notoriedad por su incoherencia interna: quien buscara fama no cedería el crédito a otra inteligencia ni lo escondería bajo una lengua que nadie usa.

«In the middle of November, Mrs. Curran submitted her phenomena to the examination of a very eminent psychotherapist, not that she felt the need of any therapy, but purely in the interests of science. Some ten days before, we had had a long talk with this gentleman, who hap- . pens to be a valued personal friend. We said, “Of course you’ll promptly send us anything you find?” He replied, “ I don’t expect to find anything,” and we answered, “ Then you won’t.” And he didn’t.» — Henry Holt relata el examen por un psicoterapeuta eminente y lo cuenta como diálogo, con el resultado anunciado de antemano por las dos partes.

«Considerable familiarity with the records concerning involuntary writers, long ago led us to say that persons approaching them in an unsympathetic spirit seldom get interesting results.» — Holt enuncia la regla que extrae de su lectura de casos, y que es a la vez la objeción más seria contra el valor probatorio de cualquier resultado negativo.

«A special reason why Mrs. Curran’s sittings indicated brought only negative results was unwillingness on her part to be hypnotized, lest the experience would in some way interfere with later manifestation of the Patience Worth phenomena. This reluctance would of course be called by the very skeptical fear of the exposure of fraud. We don’t think it was.» — Holt da la razón concreta del resultado negativo —la negativa a ser hipnotizada— y consigna, sin adoptarla, la lectura desfavorable que admite.

«And I don’t think it was, and Mr. Yost doesn’t think it was, and Reedy who first approached the phenomena with skepticism and dislike said he would stake his head on the honesty of the Currans, so he didn’t think it was, and I have yet to learn of anyone who knows Mrs. Curran well who would believe any such thing.» — Prince suma su nombre y los de Yost y Reedy al de Holt en el mismo punto, y declara no conocer a nadie cercano que sostenga lo contrario.

«Our friend who attempted the examination writes us that he does not know whether the phenomena are genuine or not.» — el propio examinador, según Holt, se abstiene sobre la autenticidad.

«But if there is inflow from that, why not perhaps, he speculates, from “ personalities—strings of them—postcarnate ones if there are such. And if everything you and I and those who have gone before us, have ever thought, becomes part of the cosmic soul, we are all virtually postcarnate already.”» — Holt aventura una hipótesis de flujo desde el alma cósmica y la extiende a personalidades poscarnales, con lo que la distinción entre vivos y muertos se le vuelve de grado.

«I heard Mrs. Curran give out a lot of “ psychic” material last night. She shoots it forth with quite astounding rapidity. The stenographer twice begged for mercy, and I could not blame her.» — el reverendo William L. Sullivan describe la velocidad de la dictación por su efecto sobre la taquígrafa.

«What struck me most was the extraordinary beauty of some of the figures of speech thus hurled out, e.g., “ Argument is only the dust from the rock of wisdom.” And, speaking of the ceasing of a nightingale’s song: “His silver urn is dry.”» — Sullivan cita dos de las figuras que oyó esa noche.

«Dame, what wench that has a tongue and a mind to wag it e’er itched for a quill?» — según el volumen, así responde Patience Worth a la pregunta de si en vida tuvo ambición de escribir.

«We are all in the dark, but Mrs. Curran, who went only through the eighth grade of school, is, I make no scruple in saying, a remarkable subject.» — Sullivan declara su ignorancia sobre el origen y a la vez califica el caso: la abstención convive con el juicio.

«He pronounces the passage “ Unto thee do I deliver the watchword of the Kingdom—Mercy. Unto thee do I deliver the Key—Faith. Unto thee do I deliver the Kingdom—Love ” as “a little gem” and adds: “ This is as exquisite as Corinthians 13, the loveliest part of the New Testament.”» — Clement Wood empareja un pasaje de The Sorry Tale con el capítulo trece de Corintios.

«While in his opinion the book would be improved if much shortened, still he says: “ But it is a wonderful book.”» — Prince consigna también la reserva de Wood sobre la extensión, junto al elogio.

«The Oriental detail of the narrative is amazingly lavish and vivid throughout, and its general accuracy I, who am ignorant, am not disposed to question.» — Henry W. Boynton declara su propia ignorancia en el asunto sobre el que no objeta, que es la forma en que el volumen suele acotar los elogios.

«In its larger aspects, the story is of broad scope, and of solid structure, exception being taken to the inordinate length of many of the dialogues which have a merely cumulative value, and often fairly overweight and smother the action. This is true particularly of the earlier portions of the narrative; toward the close the method is far more rapid, and for the mortal reader, more effective.» — Boynton pone su reparo estructural: diálogos largos que sofocan la acción, sobre todo en la primera parte.

«It is built upon a striking conception which makes one of the thieves on the cross a son of the Emperor Tiberius by a Greek slave girl. Cast aside by Rome, she bears her son near Bethlehem at the time of Jesus’ birth—a spirit of hate, repre- . senting the sins of ancient humanity which Christ, the spirit of love, is to expiate and, in the end, to drive from the world. By means of this conception Rome, the incarnation of wrong, is made a living actor in the Christ-story.» — Boynton resume el argumento de The Sorry Tale, con el hijo de Tiberio y la esclava griega convertido en uno de los ladrones de la cruz.

«The chapter describing the crucifixion—a chapter of five thousand words which Mr. Yost says was dictated in a single evening—is a composition of appalling force and vividness, and interpretation upon a high and sincere plane.» — Boynton consigna el dato que Yost aporta sobre la velocidad —cinco mil palabras en una velada— junto a su juicio sobre el capítulo.

«I, for one, own myself converted by this story from a mood of languid curiosity about an odd “ psychic ” phenomenon, to a state of lively interest in the future published work of the powerful writer who, whether in or out of the flesh, goes by the name and speaks with the voice of “ Patience Worth.”» — Boynton declara su cambio de disposición y, en la misma frase, deja el origen abierto.

«In all the stories and poems of Patience Worth there is a singular spiritual beauty, moral insight and literary grace. They speak a quaint, antique language of their own in the style of a time gone by. Almost never does she use a distinctively modern word.» — el reverendo Joseph Fort Newton, en carta a Prince de enero de 1927, describe la lengua y su ausencia casi total de modernismos.

«As to how these books were written, I make no question; I simply do not know. But I do bear testimony to their spiritual depth and their literary value. In these respects they are surely authentic.» — Newton separa expresamente lo que se abstiene de juzgar del testimonio que sí da.

«What makes the problem significant is the quality of Patience Worth’s utterance. . . . Sensitive, witty, keenly metaphysical. Whoever or whatever she is, she meets the test that human beings meet.» — Francis Hackett, del New Republic, desplaza el problema del origen a la calidad, y formula el criterio que aplica.

«I would like to repeat that I was most deeply impressed by all that occurred on that memorable evening. The prayer which Patience was good enough to give to me has helped me more than I can express in words, but the part of her work that evening which lingers most definitely in my mind is the installment of The Sorry Tale. The deep reverence and rare beauty of that chapter was most inspiring.» — Amy M. Beach, pianista y compositora, autoriza la publicación del registro de su visita y declara qué le quedó de esa velada.

«It is fair to infer that Mr. Garland, among the leading writers of fiction in America, has a favorable opinion of The Sorry Tale, since the Joint Committee of Literary Arts of New York, of which he was chairman, in 1918, placed it with its exhibit of the important books of the year at the National Arts Club. The authors were tendered a reception at which Miss Amy Lowell, Rupert Hughes, Professor W. L. Phelps and others spoke, but “ Patience Worth ” sent her polite regrets.» — Prince marca como inferencia suya, no como declaración de Hamlin Garland, la buena opinión de este; y anota la respuesta de la comunicante a la invitación.

«I remember on my first visit I was with a well-known psychologist; on our way home we were discussing the evening’s program and he remarked: “ Whatever conclusion you may come to, one thing is certain, that this evening you have been in the presence of one of the greatest minds you will ever meet.”» — el Dr. William E. Slaght transmite el juicio de un psicólogo anónimo que lo acompañaba, y lo da como independiente de cualquier conclusión sobre el origen.

«I feel that any explanation yet given of the phenomena is quite inadequate. I agree with you that Professor Cory did no more than scratch the surface. It requires as much blind faith to accept his view as that of Mrs. Curran herself.» — Slaght objeta la explicación del profesor Cory y la pone al mismo nivel de fe ciega que la de la propia médium.

«The subconscious, as we know it, contains nothing that has not come in through the channels of the consciousness. A fair-minded investigation will not allow me to accept any adequate basis in Mrs. Curran’s experiences for all the wide variety of facts presented in Patience’s literature.» — Slaght enuncia el principio del que parte —nada entra al subconsciente sino por la consciencia— y de ahí saca que la experiencia de Mrs. Curran no basta.

«Dr. Cory, of course, based his investigation on the precedent set by Flournoy in his From India to the Planet Mars. The explanation of that case is very satisfactory, but Dr. Cory’s explanation does not have the adequate basis of this other investigation.» — Slaght identifica el modelo de Cory en el caso que Flournoy estudió, y sostiene que allí la base era suficiente y aquí no.

«In a few personalities, such as that of Mrs. Curran, it has been able to reach out beyond the ordinary boundaries of knowledge and come in touch with the springs of some cosmic consciousness that gives deeper insight than any which comes through the ordinary channels of knowledge.» — Slaght formula su conclusión provisional: fenómeno subconsciente, pero de una forma que alcanzaría una consciencia cósmica.

«The words of Patience Worth are the most loving penned since St. Paul wrote the famous chapter in his first letter to the Corinthians.» — el reverendo David C. Garrett sitúa los escritos en una línea que arranca en san Pablo.

«As to the source of causation of what William Marion Reedy, ordinarily a caustic critic, called “the world’s literary marvel,” I am convinced that it is just what it purports to be, the personality of Patience Worth.» — Garrett adopta la explicación literal —la personalidad que dice ser— y da la razón por la que le parece la más simple.

«Cosmic Consciousness,” whatever that may mean, is too vague an invention to satisfy the reverent mind that revolts at the suggestion of trickery and falsehood behind so remarkable a revelation.» — Garrett objeta la consciencia cósmica por vaga, y su objeción va contra la posición que Slaght sostiene en la misma sección: el desacuerdo queda como está.

«But Dr. Cantrell also possessed the power—and it is this to which Professor Slaght refers—of getting a variety of evidential facts relating to strangers by some undetermined process.» — nota al pie de Prince sobre la Dra. Elizabeth Cantrell, el caso con que Slaght compara; Prince deslinda enseguida en qué se diferencia del de Mrs. Curran.

«It is true that Dr. Cantrell does not hold to the spiritistic theory, and even seems prejudiced against it, but a very evidential incident took place identifying a deceased relative of mine, and it took the spiritistic form, in that Dr. Cantrell sensed my relative as being present and described his appearance.—Eb.» — en la misma nota, Prince consigna que el propio caso que sirve de contraste le dio a él un incidente de forma espiritista, y lo cuenta en primera persona.

«seems to me to have come on a mission, somewhat jn keeping with that of Jeanne, the visible maid of Orleans, who, instructed by her voices, brought the crown of temporal power to a king, while Patience, the invisible maid, brings the crown of immortality to a world.» — carta anónima, anterior a agosto de 1918, que empareja a la comunicante con Juana de Arco: la doncella visible trajo una corona temporal y la invisible traería la de la inmortalidad. El nombre queda partido por el corte de plana y el troceo lo pierde.

«I am sure the religion set forth is a fine repetition of the gospel I have been preaching weekly and at funerals for twenty-five years.» — carta de un clérigo que reconoce en los dictados su propia predicación de veinticinco años.

«Also, the impossibility of it being the personality of Mrs. Curran that we know, charming as her own personality is, is too evident to need discussion.» — otra de las cartas anónimas da por evidente lo que el volumen entero discute: es la clase de afirmación que Prince imprime sin suscribirla.

«She converses freely and she reveals a familiarity with nature as it is found in England, and with the manners of English life of an older time, and her personality, which has many individual features, remains consistent throughout.» — el London Times destaca la consistencia de la personalidad y cierra llamando al conjunto un misterio psíquico notable.

«Never once do these messages sink to the commonplace, but always show high intelligence, and sometimes the token of real genius. There is nothing spooky about the book, no hint of the weird, no trace of the uncanny ; instead a sweet and gracious spirit breathes through it, wise withal and winning.» — el reverendo Joseph Fort Newton, en Unity, niega en el libro los rasgos de lo espeluznante que el lector podría esperar.

«The story is too long for general reading and at times too archaic for pleasant reading. But, aside from these minor barriers, it is a work of great beauty, a finely noble composition.» — el Washington Star pone sus dos reparos —extensión y arcaísmo— antes del elogio.

«Somewhat reminiscent of Marie Corelli’s “ Barabbas” . . . The story is written in a curious and even involved language, so that the meaning is often obscure, requiring patient effort to understand it. But if one can maintain his interest through the three hundred odd thousand words he will discover a well-constructed plot, a sense of the dramatic, a beauty of thought and style, and an excellent picture of the Roman world when the Empire was at its height.» — The Bookman empareja The Sorry Tale con una novela de Marie Corelli y describe la lengua como obstáculo antes de conceder la construcción y el cuadro romano.

«Many persons won’t read it through prejudice—because of its means of production.» — el Columbus Dispatch nombra el obstáculo que Prince viene sosteniendo: la vía de producción aparta lectores del libro.

«The interest in the story is almost obliterated by the difficulties of the cryptic style. With exasperating slowness the tale unravels itself. . . . There are pages of dull dialect and all this perplexes and bores the reader.» — el volumen imprime también las reseñas adversas: The Bookman describe el estilo como críptico y el dialecto como tedioso.

«We will admit that Patience has better qualifications as a writer of fiction than most ‘ controls,’ but we find her writing feverish, high-flown and terribly prolix.» — el Outlook concede una cosa y niega otra en la misma frase; el volumen la reproduce entera.

«However, so far as the present investigation has been carried, The Sorry Tale appears, upon the whole, to have more friends than opponents.» — Prince pesa las reseñas y da su resultado como provisional, atado al alcance de su propia búsqueda.

«for the novel fills 640 closely printed pages and must contain well over 300,000 words. And it was all spelled out through the ouija board during part of the evenings of the last two years.» — el New York Times cifra la magnitud material del libro y el modo de producción; el mismo pasaje vuelve, con otra redacción, en la contrasolapa de 1964.

«It is a wonderful, a beautiful, and a noble book, but it is not easy to read and it is not for those who delight in best sellers, who like a novel which can be galloped through in an evening. Its archaic language and its frequently indirect modes of expression make necessary constantly the closest attention.» — el New York Times cierra su elogio con la advertencia de lo que cuesta leerlo.

«One may smile at this strange announcement, and wonder whence all this long narrative comes, from Patience Worth the whilom psychic mystery, from the medium or from the editor, but his smile will turn to wonder if he dips into the book and follows it even a while.» — el Hartford Courant nombra las tres candidaturas de autoría que el caso admite —la comunicante, la médium, el editor— y las deja sin resolver.

«The great central thought of the story seems to be that Love, as personified in Jesus, proves stronger than Hate, as personified in the child of Theia.» — el Hartford Courant resume el eje de The Sorry Tale como oposición entre amor y odio encarnados en dos niños nacidos la misma noche.

«Although there are many characters and crowded scenes, the narrative is flowing and natural, in its admirable simplicity hardly excelled by George Moore in his Bible story, “‘ The Brook Kerith.”» — el New York Globe compara la simplicidad del relato con la de George Moore en su propia novela bíblica.

«Her favorite word combinations are always descriptive and poetic and effective. She speaks of the “hill’s way” and the “sea’s way,” and the “ stone’s sharp.” The “babe’s town” is Bethlehem, and the “see woman” is the prophetess.» — el New York Globe enumera las formaciones léxicas propias del texto, que después serán objeto del capítulo sobre el dialecto.

«Casper Yost, editor of the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, who stood sponsor for “ Patience Worth ” when she first appeared and told her story, reviews briefly for the present volume the main details of her mystery—we had almost said life, so real she seems.» — Prince sitúa a Casper Yost como el primero que respaldó públicamente el caso, y anota que reseña de nuevo para este mismo volumen.

«Whether or not “ The Sorry Tale,” by Patience Worth, came to be written in a somewhat mysterious way through the agency of an ouija board, does not really matter. What is of importance is the merit of the novel as a literary production, and as such it is little short of an epoch-making work.» — el American Hebrew declara irrelevante el modo de producción y juzga solo la novela; Prince destaca que la reseña salga de un periódico judío.

«Not since “ Ben-Hur: A Story of Christ,” * Quo Vadis,” the romance of Nero and the first Christian martyrs, has a book been written illuminating as brightly the events of nineteen hundred years ago as does “ The Sorry Tale.”» — el American Hebrew sitúa la novela en la serie de ficciones sobre el cristianismo primitivo; el asterisco ante Quo Vadis es del escaneo.

«Undoubtedly a book out of the common, powerful and realistic.» — The Bookseller de Londres sobre Hope Trueblood, en las reseñas británicas que Prince agrupa sin conocimiento del caso.

«There is something of the majestic grandeur of Greek tragedy, of the relentless zeal of “‘ Old Mortality,” of the austere piety of “ Adam Bede,” the tempestuous passions of “ Wuthering Heights,” the solitude and heartache of the “ Orphan of Lowood.” Here is one poor mortality clothed in immortality.» — el Independent de Sheffield alinea Hope Trueblood con cuatro clásicos ingleses; las reseñas británicas juzgan a una autora nueva sin saber del tablero.

«No teller of tales who has studied his craft could read this story without the keenest admiration for the finished technique with which Patience Worth handles this story. Notwithstanding the serious quality and the many pitifulnesses and tragedies of the story it tells, the book has much humor of a quaint, demure type, a kind of humor that stands out as a characteristic of all her work and her personality.» — el New York Times atribuye a Hope Trueblood una técnica acabada y un humor que reconoce como marca de todo el conjunto.

«Whether in the body or the spirit, the author of “ Hope Trueblood ” is singularly gifted with imagination, invention and power of expression. The psychological analysis, and invention of the occult, the dramatic power displayed in the narrative are extraordinary, and stamp it as a work approximating absolute genius.» — el New York Tribune deja la cuestión del origen entre paréntesis con una fórmula que el volumen repite en varias reseñas.

«I may add that Braithwaite’s Anthology of Magazine Poetry for 1917 contains five of Patience Worth’s poems, three by Amy Lowell, three by Vachel Lindsay, six by Sarah Teasdale, one by E. L. Masters. While I do not consider this an infallible test of merit, it is significant.» — Prince aporta un indicio externo de recepción —cinco poemas en una antología del año— y en la misma frase acota su valor.

«It is now proposed to institute some comparisons between the work of Patience Worth and that of standard poets, and incidentally to test the question whether she shows dependence upon them, and, if so, how much.» — Prince declara el propósito del capítulo comparativo: medir si hay dependencia de los poetas conocidos, y cuánta.

«Since Mr. Curran gave Mrs, Curran, before their marriage, a copy of Walt Whitman’s poems (which she says she read slightly then or thereafter, caring but for few of them) we might reasonably expect that those poems would show an influence upon the Patience Worth product.» — Prince elige a Whitman por una razón documentada: es el único poeta que consta en manos de Mrs. Curran antes del matrimonio.

«Web o’ the mornin’, web, spreadin’ the briar, What be ye, I wonder. A spinner’s spinnin’? Nay, Methinks thou art but a dream I fashioned in the night Twistin’ the moon’s ray, and plying with my love. Else why dost thou flash and set my heart aquiver With thy gems encirclin’ thee? _ I know thee, web 0’? mornin’. Thou art my dream. And the angels wept upon thee.» — según el volumen, este es el poema de la telaraña dictado por Patience Worth, que Prince pone frente al de Whitman sobre el mismo motivo.

«It is evident that there is no traceable slightest connection between the two little poems. One centers in the spider’s effort, the other in its result; one belongs to the “ wisdom” category, the other to that of beautiful fancy; one becomes lyric in the last two lines, the other is lyric throughout.» — Prince enuncia su lectura de la pareja: los dos poemas se reparten el motivo sin tocarse, uno en el esfuerzo de la araña y otro en su resultado.

«The reader may compare them with regard to excellence. Personally, I have always greatly liked Whitman’s poem and I like Patience Worth’s also.» — Prince declina arbitrar la comparación y declara su gusto personal como tal.

«Father, is this thy will? God! the din! Blood, thick-crusted, still living, I saw it fall unto the dust; Hunger, gnawing like a wolf, whose teeth do whet upon my vitals, crouching before me— A hideous thing, whose hands show dripping, and whose tongue doth feed upon the new-sprung streams, licking life from living things ! Father, is this thy will? Damn the discord garrulously belched forth from burning throats! Hell is within the eyes that look across the wastes ; Hell crawls upon earth dragging its robe of fire, Sprinkled of scarlet its hem, and the sound it makes upon its trailing way, is like the shriek of womankind in labor.» — según el volumen, el poema de guerra dictado el 22 de diciembre de 1917, que Prince opone a los versos de guerra de Whitman.

«This last is more minutely descriptive, but it surely is not as good poetry, although worked over and altered in different editions, as what issued spontaneously and complete from the lips of Mrs. Curran, and is here printed unchanged.» — Prince pone su comparación y a la vez el dato que le importa: los versos de Whitman fueron rehechos entre ediciones y los otros salieron completos de una vez.

«I have no fault to find with any of these passages, but not in thirteen, or eighteen or thirty words, has Whitman succeeded in producing a phrase so powerful, graphic and fitted to its subject as Patience Worth’s brief “Damn the discord, garrulously belched forth from burning throats.”» — Prince concede el valor de los pasajes de Whitman y sostiene su preferencia sobre un verso concreto.

«There is art in the harsh initial sounds of the words (note the contrast with Whitman). The first three words are like the explosion of gunpowder, the rest rush and roar like a shell tearing onward.» — Prince analiza el efecto sonoro del verso, que es de las pocas veces en que el volumen hace crítica técnica y no comparación.

«I tease from the eons fanciful puppets, which walk, Aye, stalk majestically, or prance in mimic measure; Troubadours with their scarlet capes and lutes that drip pale songs of rosy love—pale-cheeked songs which languish ’neath some lady’s window. Lo, I pluck the moon from out the sky and pour the stars within her hollow, letting them stream like fireflies down o’er night’s black robe. _ Oh, I catch waves and prison them, plucking the pearls from their tips, and tearing the coral from the reefs. I pluck purple lilies, steeping them within my dreams and weaving them across the tapestry of my songs. Lo, to me music is a golden fluid and I a cup—a chalice; oh, my stem is deep and kingly! To me, song is man’s spirit; eluding, fretfully teasing with its contact: I would lay hands upon it and hold it to my bosom, yet my arms are empty and my breast aches. Oh, the thing which I have borne, the beings of my being, Walk in a pageantry, out across the darksome valleys of the day to the silver land of dreams, Eternity ; And they pass upon the way, new puppets, seeking me!» — según el volumen, el poema que Patience Worth dicta el 14 de noviembre de 1914 sobre su propio hacer poético, puesto frente al de Whitman sobre el suyo.

«Which of the two dithyrambs do you prefer?» — Prince deja la comparación en manos del lector, procedimiento que repite a lo largo del capítulo.

«I have nothing to say derogatory to what goes under the name of a poem by Walt Whitman. Its rather unusual (for him) exhibition of humility is commendable if he thought it true, and it is a pretty and just thought that a few carols may outweigh more pretentious products. But Patience Worth’s poem is exquisite—incomparably superior, as poetry, to the other.» — Prince concede el mérito del poema de Whitman antes de declarar su preferencia por el otro: el elogio va con su límite dentro.

«This bird, not found in America, is a favorite of the poets familiar with it. Bryant’s Library of Poetry of Song, among its 1,640 major selections after the taste of its compiler, himself a distinguished poet, contains five poems about the nightingale.» — Prince explica por qué el ruiseñor sirve de término de comparación y de dónde saca las piezas rivales.

«Tis the Nightingale !— Oh moon, silver shod, Tracking the skies, be still! Oh stars, cease your pulsing But an instant! Oh you Trembling blossom, lean Against the breeze and rest! You shuttling moth, hang! Your intrusions cease! For a holy instant attend The nightingale!» — según el volumen, el poema del ruiseñor dictado el 12 de julio de 1920; el troceo abre con asterisco donde el impreso lleva el apóstrofo.

«In the whole poem there is nothing about the bird, save the repetition of these last two lines.» — Prince acota lo que la pieza de Gil Vicente, traducida por John Bowring, aporta al asunto.

«It is hard to tell, it seems to me, whether the Dutch poetess or Arnold wrote better lines about the nightingale. Arnold’s may be more easily compared, since they, like Patience Worth’s, are unrhymed. Of course, if the object were to describe the nightingale’s song, Arnold’s verse is to be preferred, since he describes it in various terms, while Patience Worth does not describe it at all.» — Prince se abstiene de ordenar a dos de los poetas y acota exactamente en qué el poema dictado no compite: no describe el canto.

«But if it is finer to produce in the mind of one who has never heard the nightingale a sense of what it must be to hear one, Patience Worth’s lines are in so far superior. Instead of by a series of ejaculations her muse flows rhythmically along, and swiftly produces a picture of night, the luminaries and living things of night, pausing breathless to listen to one small bird.» — Prince desplaza el criterio de comparación —del describir al hacer sentir— y sobre ese criterio da su preferencia.

«The device (if it may be so called) of inducing an effect in the reader’s mind by picturing an effect produced upon witnesses in the poem, was employed powerfully by Homer, as Albert J. Beverage has reminded us (Saturday Evening Post, October 28, 1926).» — Prince nombra el procedimiento y lo remite a Homero por vía de Albert J. Beverage, con la referencia de prensa.

«After the above was in type, I was told that I ought to take Keats’s “ Ode to a Nightingale” into the comparison. It was not because I thought that it was enough to bring forward the efforts of five poets approved by Bryant, but from sheer oversight that I did not do so.» — Prince consigna en el propio texto que la comparación con Keats se le señaló después de compuesto el capítulo, y la atribuye a descuido suyo.

«That oversight I now repair, but again protest that it is not a part of my thesis that P. W. is never excelled by any other poet, but rather that she has earned a place among poets of high rank.» — Prince acota su tesis: no sostiene que nadie la supere, sino que merece lugar entre poetas de rango.

«Like Shelley’s “ Skylark,” Keats’s “ Nightingale ” is probably the finest poem on its theme in the language. But we must remember that it has 600 words in which to produce its effect, while the other has but 45.» — Prince concede la superioridad del poema de Keats y a la vez introduce la asimetría de extensión con que quiere que se lea la comparación.

«It seems almost profanity to suggest that P. W.’s swiftly dictated and unrevised composition, while inferior to that of Keats’s in euphony and rhythm, is superior to any 45 lines of the Ode in brilliancy of imagery and in dramatic intensity.» — Prince formula su juicio marcando lo que concede —eufonía y ritmo a Keats— y lo que reclama para el otro.

«Or we might choose the final lines, but let the reader play fair, and not take both paragraphs together, weighing 90 words against 45.» — Prince pide al lector que no haga trampa con la extensión, y con eso convierte la comparación en un procedimiento con reglas.

«In an early hour, ere the sun Had struck his brass, announcing day, Didst thou in the pale light Mark the heavens with thy flight, Mayhap fringe thy wing upon the pearly gate, And in thine awe, an instant ope thy throat, Letting the echo of the angels’ song therein? Oh Philomel, oh Philomel! Back, back o’er the starry arch In the young hour didst thou flee? Hiding through the sunny hours, Waiting the soft and shadeful instant, Holy in its commemoration Of the day’s departure, When the moon stands guard And the sun delivers her trust. Oh Philomel, oh Philomel! Then didst thou let the echoes Come stealing forth hauntful of the heavens, Each note a moonlit dewdrop fallen, Mirrored with a thousand stars; Each song a symbol of perfection, Neither long nor doleful-tuned nor fluttered ; For an instant passing, then to flee, But each haunted of the heavens.» — según el volumen, el segundo poema del ruiseñor, en el que la comunicante sí describe el canto; Prince remite al libro donde está completo.

«Behold, with my naked hands did I part my ribs, Baring my heart in a basin of scarlet. Into this did I plunge my quill, Drawing it forth pulsing, each drop warm. And ere it cooled wrote, tempering each note With a fever or purifying it in meditation. Behold, like a pageantry cometh The inscrutable, cowled, grey-garbed Holy writs, each uttering damnations, Each damnation echoing promise; And the cadence of the two becoming warred Like a gnashing battlement, Lost in the thin praying of holy nuns, Lisping white music from their marble-cold hearts, Letting the beads slip tinkling Through their iced fingers, letting their lips Speak, finally, of the Infinite! Lo, through this fluid which I press, Singeth dumb conquest, mute agony, Anguished existence. Bare hands, Set upon hairy forearms, clutch bloodily At existence. And I write, giving utterance Yea, making vent unto this sealed, dumb, Mute piteous humankind. Is my heart white? Is the basin Become a golden thing? Hath the quill Dropped the last drop and with anguish, breaked? Then have I spoken!» — según el volumen, el poema dictado el 8 de marzo de 1920 con que Prince abre la discusión sobre belleza y sentido.

«What do these lines mean exactly? I for one do not know. I can guess what they stand for: the desire to write the epic of the history of man, with all its turmoil and struggle, with its antiphony of religious exaltation as represented by holy writs and of despairing formalism as represented by the thin praying of the nuns with marble-cold hearts, and with all the dumb unhappiness of the ages.» — Prince declara no entender el poema que acaba de citar, y ofrece su conjetura marcada como tal: es de los pasajes donde más claramente separa efecto de sentido.

«But it is beautiful; it produces a certain powerful effect upon the emotions and the esthetic sense. It is like some canvas of Turner, representing sea and sky, which may be perfectly intelligible to a Ruskin but is not to me, and yet arrests my attention, awakens in me a response, and remains in memory like a great moment in a play.» — Prince sostiene que el efecto estético no depende de entender, y lo apoya en su propia experiencia ante un cuadro de Turner.

«Suppose Patience Worth had written: Were you a thrall to sadness, lad, And were I to joy a messenger, For lives and for seasons would we play Wi? lovin’ looks and betrayals, And tears o’ night and morrow And laughs o’ wench and boy.» — Prince monta un experimento: reescribe unos versos de Swinburne en la lengua de los dictados para mostrar qué preguntas cambiarían de lugar.

«The meaning would be exactly the same, but if Patience Worth had written it, who, feeling more or less repugnance to her claims as to her nature (which have absolutely nothing to do with the quality of her material) would not ask, “ But what does it mean to ‘ play for lives and seasons ’?”, and “ What does ‘ betrayals’ mean in this connection? ” and “ Why are the tears those of ‘ night and morrow,’ while the smiles are those of ‘ wench and boy’? ”» — Prince enuncia el resultado del experimento: el mismo contenido recibiría objeciones distintas según de quién se lo crea.

«A part of the charm of the verse as Swinburne put it is in its perfect rhythm, and as to the meaning—perhaps there is a charm in being uncertain of it, as we find charm in the uncertain forms that loom up in mist.» — Prince concede al verso de Swinburne su ritmo y admite que la incertidumbre de sentido puede ser parte del encanto: la concesión desarma su propio argumento a medias, y la deja escrita.

«I quote exactly what I find quoted in a New York Times review. It appears that Mr. Bridges, like “ Lord” Timothy Dexter, leaves the reader to “ pepper and salt ” with punctuation marks to his individual taste.» — Prince declara la procedencia de segunda mano de la cita del poeta laureado y señala la ausencia de puntuación con una ironía.

«Perhaps I am cynical, but I cannot help doubting if many readers, supposing that these lines were Patience Worth’s produced by hands laid upon an ouija board, would be melted in admiration of them, or even regard them indulgently.» — Prince plantea la hipótesis inversa —los versos del laureado atribuidos al tablero— y se incluye a sí mismo entre quienes leerían distinto.

«Far be it from me to deny their charm; still I am convinced that to forty-nine out of fifty persons, doubtless including myself, attention the more willingly lingers upon them, they are given a chance to commend themselves, and there is more of a will to appreciate them, because of the knowledge that Robert Bridges is their author. But the poet La Gallienne sees beauty in them, and doubtless he knows.» — Prince acota su propia sospecha y deja en pie el juicio de Le Gallienne.

«Forget the ouija board; forget all that is repulsive to you in the notion of a spirit dictating poetry—that has nothing to do with» — Prince formula la instrucción de lectura sobre la que descansa todo el capítulo: separar el origen del mérito. El tramo se corta en el límite de troceo, y la frase sigue con *the literary merit in itself*.

«When I would sing Thou hast struck me dumb; When I would make a glorious noise my lute respondeth not; Oh, e’en the song-bird Thou has favored more. *T would grieve me sore were’t not I know his fittingness. Where waves the willow betasseled with spring rain, There resideth he whom God so loves. Perchance my borrowed song belongeth not to me; But when the winter comes ’tis my word for him, my brother. Mayhap the fool, who, tired from paying for his bread with jest, Hath hid his leering ’neath his cowl, ‘Listeneth to the song flowing from the meadow there; And in the dark of his retreat meets all the faerie folk, While he who sits in regal robe heareth but the brass of yonder bell. Halt thou, in this maddening rush, and reckon with thyself. Hast snapped the string bound round thy book of song And stopped to read thy note? Or dost thou listen to thy heart Which singeth not a line of borrowed song? And on a day—a day that’s yet to be, One feathered chorister shall try a melody and find it not his own; But, listening, hear this note of thine A wayward breeze hath blown from ’neath a fresh-turned sod, And, growing bolder, sing thy song to Heaven and to God.» — según el volumen, el poema con que Prince responde a los versos del poeta laureado; Prince lo pone entero para que la comparación se haga sobre texto y no sobre resumen.

«Nor do I believe that Mr, Bridges would fail to appreciate the poem by Patience Worth; and it is quite within the limits of the possible that he would cheerfully admit that in melody, imagery, phrasing, tenderness and pathos, and in thought content, hers is in another and higher class.» — Prince atribuye su propia conclusión a un juicio que supone en el poeta laureado, marcándolo como posibilidad y no como hecho.

«One fact, if the reader will read both poems aloud, must force itself upon him—that the one by Patience Worth, in spite of the greater irregularity of her lines, has more of a musical quality. His verses fastidiously chat, or murmur, or, if you please, hum, but hers sing.» — Prince ofrece un criterio verificable por el lector —leer los dos poemas en voz alta— y saca de ahí la diferencia que le importa.

«The late Miss Amy Lowell had, I am informed, a shining reputation as a poet. Many of her verses are without rhyme and of irregular metre. A volume of her poems has been laid before me, and I thought it might be interesting to select two dealing as nearly as any to be found therein with Day and Night and compare them with two by Patience Worth, relating in a fashion to the same subjects. Let us view the productions side by side.» — Prince presenta a la siguiente poeta de la comparación con una reserva sobre su propio conocimiento, y explica cómo eligió las piezas.

«There was an endeavor to make and keep a full record of utterances by Patience Worth, but of course such a colossal task as recording everything uttered by everybody present could not be undertaken. Hence there is no explanation why she, on April 21, 1919, happened to dictate some lines, beginning and ending abruptly as though they were taken from the body of a long poem, with an Indian for its subject and the peculiar form of versification which characterizes Hiawatha,» — Prince declara el límite del registro y, con él, por qué no puede explicar de dónde salió el pastiche de Hiawatha.

«Silent standing, head uplifted, Yet unconquered thou art waiting; Thou whose loins shine like the copper Run of oils, and naked gleaming; Listening through the ages rolling For the calling of a comrade.» — según el volumen, los versos dictados el 21 de abril de 1919 en el metro de Hiawatha, que empiezan y acaban de golpe como sacados de un poema largo; el troceo los corta en el cambio de plana.

«Does the reader think the above sample falls below the poetic level of the following extracts from Longfellow’s poem, chosen because they are found in Putnam’s collection of choice selections?» — Prince pasa al lector la comparación con Longfellow y declara de dónde saca los versos rivales.

«I am shameless enough to think that Patience Worth’s lines, dictated as a mere “ stunt,” probably prompted by some unrecorded allusion to Hiawatha by a visitor, are as superior to Longfellow’s in point of poetic art, as a sonata by Beethoven is superior to a march by Sousa, or Schumann’s “ Traumerei” is superior to a popular waltz.» — Prince declara su preferencia con dos comparaciones musicales, y marca de antemano que sabe lo desmedido del juicio.

«Oh wing that hath stilled Of beating the heavens, and descended! Oh throat that is empty And song that is gone! Oh eyes that knew, with intimate Contact, the leafy glen And the shadow boats that swung Beneath the sunnied leaves! Oh breast that panted of the joy Of Spring, and knew the thrill Of summer’s heights! Little companion of the heavens ; What, thou hast fallen! Ah me. Ah me. When the spring returns I shall hear thee. I shall see some beblossomed spray To nod and see thee clinging there, Spraying her with thy song, Bathing the beauty of her blooms With God’s benediction. And when I look unto the skies Oh, I shall know that out, Out, within the silver of eternity Thou speedest, with thy spirit Singing, singing. And thou, wings! I shall know that thou, With the sureness of instinct Shalt seek the new spring’s Ever-day, letting no weariness Stop thy sure flight. Oh follied lips of mine, What promises! And yet, And yet, why not?» — según el volumen, el poema del pájaro caído dictado el 6 de mayo de 1918, sobre el que se planteó la sospecha de préstamo.

«It was remarked [probably by a guest.—Ep.] that there was within this much of “ The Skylark ” and also of “ The Waterfowl.”» — Prince consigna la objeción tal como surgió en la sala, y marca entre corchetes que la atribución del comentario es conjetura suya.

«the Skylark” and Bryant’s “To a Waterfowl,” I declare confidently that it has no more to remind us of its two illustrious predecessors than is inevitable considering the fact that all three have for their subject a bird.» — Prince responde a la sospecha de préstamo con el argumento que repetirá: la coincidencia se explica por el tema común. La frase arranca en la plana anterior.

«If, consequently, Patience Worth is to be suspected of borrowing from Shelley and Bryant, then Bryant is under suspicion of having borrowed from Shelley, and no such absurd suggestion has been made.» — Prince aplica el criterio de la sospecha a un poeta consagrado para mostrar adónde llevaría, procedimiento que usa varias veces en el capítulo.

«The theme of Shelley is solely the skylark’s song, that of Bryant the mysterious instinct by which his waterfowl is guided in migration, that of Patience Worth the continuance of the dead songster’s charms in memory and possibly in some more real fashion.» — Prince deslinda los tres asuntos para sostener que la coincidencia es de motivo y no de tratamiento.

«Suppose that in Patience Worth’s peem and “ The Skylark” the following parallels were found!» — Prince monta la tabla de paralelos como trampa para el lector; el troceo imprime *peem* por *poem*.

«But the first table is from James Hogg’s “ The Skylark,” a poem still shorter than that by Patience Worth, and I am not aware that anyone has suspected that either Hogg or Shelley borrowed from the other.» — Prince descubre la trampa: los paralelos eran entre dos poetas consagrados, y nadie ha sospechado préstamo entre ellos.

«Identity of subject is naturally likely to lead to the occasional employment of similar descriptive and other terms.» — Prince enuncia el principio general con que desactiva las acusaciones de préstamo del capítulo.

«Oh, sacred moon! Diviner is thy holy light than the sun’s glaring radiance. Whitely illumed, thy face inviteth with its wan smile, Confidence, like a placid mother’s brow, bending o’er the earth. Thou each night dost minister unto the sleeping soul, Even as she who with busy hands cradleth her babe.» — según el volumen, el poema del 5 de mayo de 1919 que compara la luna con el rostro de una madre.

«Since in her courtship days his poems had been presented to the then Miss Pollard by the man whom she afterward married, and it would have been likely that she should pay them special attention (although she says that in fact she did not), they became an object of special attention to me in my effort to trace the influence of previous poetry upon the Patience Worth literature.» — Prince explica por qué Whitman recibe atención especial en su rastreo de influencias, y consigna a la vez que la propia interesada niega haberlos leído.

«There is certainly no resemblance aside from the single fact that Patience Worth, like Whitman, compares the moon to a mother’s face. The language is wholly different, the resultant emotion different (that of confidence in the one case, of consolation in the other), and the whole treatment of the theme different. On such slender evidence any poet could be charged with borrowing from twenty others.» — Prince cierra el argumento del capítulo: sobre coincidencias así de tenues, cualquier poeta quedaría bajo sospecha.

«I suppose that combining such adjectives as “ sad,” “ bad,” “ glad” and “mad” has independently occurred to many minds,» — Prince empieza la serie de coincidencias entre poetas consagrados con el caso de una combinación de adjetivos que él mismo vio nacer en un versificador rústico.

«Byron of course could have taken the figure of his “ And hold up to the sun my little taper ” from Young’s “ And hold their farthing candles to the sun,” but it is more likely that the thought occurred to him independently.» — Prince distingue el préstamo de la coincidencia en un caso concreto, y da la razón por la que se inclina a la segunda.

«Either of the contemporaries may have unconsciously echoed the other, yet there is equal probability that the figure occurred to each independently.» — Prince deja abiertas las dos lecturas en el par Byron-Crabbe: eco inconsciente o coincidencia, con probabilidad pareja.

«So one might go on presenting parallels for many pages. And in the course of those pages there would doubtless occur instances of real borrowing, conscious or unconscious, but it would be most unsafe to seize upon a particular instance and make the direct charge, unless one found a passage of say fifteen words length exactly the same in the work of two writers.» — Prince fija un umbral operativo para acusar de préstamo —unas quince palabras idénticas— en vez de dejarlo al criterio.

«For it is incredible that poets should not by chance or the natural associations of ideas hit upon the same metaphors or brief verbal combinations.» — Prince enuncia la razón por la que el umbral debe ser alto.

«The conclusion is that Patience Worth is at least as original as other poets are.» — Prince formula la conclusión del capítulo en términos comparativos y modestos: al menos tan original como los demás.

«I do not deny that there are to be found in Patience Worth a few expressions which are reminiscent of former writers. Why should it not be so? I have not found whole lines boldly filched, as some eminent writers have filched lines from others, but passages exist where Patience Worth seems to have appropriated a metaphor and, as it were, embroidered it.» — Prince concede lo que su propio argumento le obliga a conceder: hay expresiones reminiscentes y metáforas ajenas bordadas.

«She claims that her locutions are partly recollected, partly invented, and partly picked up here and there, as from the content of Mrs. Curran’s mind. Then why should she not utilize some familiar poetic phrase which is floating in that same mind, and play upon it?» — Prince recoge la explicación que la propia comunicante da de su léxico, y la usa para desactivar la objeción.

«The puzzle on the secondary personality or subconscious theory is why we do not find a host of such reminiscent expressions.» — Prince invierte el problema: sobre la hipótesis subconsciente, lo raro no son los ecos sino que haya tan pocos.

«Pierrot, Pierrot, come trip a measure; this is a grey, grey world. Come point thy toe and shake thy bells; come Pierrot, Pierrot. This is a black, black day, Pierrot, come dance.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 7 de noviembre de 1919 en que aparece la frase hecha que Prince analiza enseguida; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Here, undoubtedly, Patience Worth has introduced, in her “ trip the light fantastic,” a quotation, not directly from Milton, but rather from the popular perversion of Milton’s words, “Trip the light fantastic toe,” or, more likely, quoting “trip the light fantastic ” from the old popular song “ The Sidewalks of New York,” which, doubtless Patience Worth would explain, she found in the furnishings of Mrs. Curran’s mind.» — Prince rastrea la frase no a Milton sino a su deformación popular y a una canción de moda, y con eso hace de la cita un dato sobre la mente de la médium.

«Let the winds arise; I fear not their voices nor their strength. Let them send the waves mountain-high, And the sands create unto a cloud Enveloping the shore with a wrathful haze. Let the anger of hell burst loose! I, with my bloody head shall stand upon the prow, Taking the lash of its fury. I am not fearful; I know no foe which shall cause my head to bow. Behold, my craft shall sail through the wrathful waters ; Yea, I shall ride the high seas o’er their crests, Descending then to the very parapet of hell, Unfearful. Lord God of hosts, lead on! lead on!» — según el volumen, el poema del barco en la tormenta donde se borda una línea de Henley.

«The very familiarity of Henley’s line is a refutation of the suspicion of tricky use of it by Patience Worth. The “ psychic censor ” would have discarded it, had there been intent to pass off anything borrowed as her own. And this is true whether she is what she thinks she is or a subconscious personality.» — Prince argumenta que lo demasiado conocido no sirve para plagiar, y hace valer el argumento para las dos hipótesis a la vez.

«In Poe’s lines “ Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, shall do it reverence,” the metaphor is borrowed from Isaiah 14:9: “ Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming: ... it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations,” yet Poe was as original a writer as ever lived. He has made a brilliant adaptation of a metaphor which he found that pleased him.» — Prince aplica el mismo rasero a Poe, con capítulo y versículo de la fuente bíblica.

«The very familiarity of these Biblical passages protects Kipling from the charge that he is surreptitiously passing off borrowed material as his own. A “subconscious personality” as keen-minded as Patience Worth undoubtedly is ought, logically, to have the benefit of the same argument,» — Prince pide para la comunicante —incluso entendida como personalidad subconsciente— el trato que se le da a Kipling.

«Very likely, if the truth were known, Patience Worth introduced Henley’s metaphor after a visitor had quoted his line in conversation. After this suggestion had occurred to me, I found that on another date a visitor did quote “I am the captain of my soul” from the same poem by Henley, and that Patience Worth instantly flashed back, “ Yet my bark sails within the cup of His hand!”» — Prince cuenta cómo su conjetura sobre el origen de la cita encontró después apoyo documental, y cita la respuesta instantánea que registra el archivo.

«Under this heading are presented a few poems which could be distributed under others, but to which attention is directed as examples of peculiar imaginative power. Two or three of them certainly stand as among the very best, in this regard, among the products of Patience Worth, while the rest are not better in the same respect than others found in this volume or still existing only in typewritten form.» — Prince declara el criterio de la sección y a la vez que no todas las piezas elegidas son de las mejores.

«If there is any poet who can, within the compass of a few lines, more brilliantly paint a picture, wide as the earth and the heavens, or small and» — Prince lanza el desafío con que sostiene su juicio, en vez de afirmarlo sin más; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana, donde sigue con la miniatura sobre marfil.

«There are enough imaginative canvasses, and vignettes of imagination and fancy in poems by Patience Worth yet only in the unpublished records to fire the poetic frenzy and set flying the pens of a dozen bards.» — Prince consigna que lo publicado es una fracción, y que el resto sigue solo en mecanografiado.

«I remember how, in my boyhood, felicitous phrases of imaginative power thrilled me. Here are a few examples which at the moment occur to memory.» — Prince declara de dónde saca su patrón de comparación: lo que a él mismo lo conmovió de muchacho, con la lista que enseguida enumera.

«These productions, I had almost said miraculously created in a few minutes, are one constant scintillating echoing stream of brilliant metaphor and simile.» — Prince presenta los dos poemas gemelos de la sección y frena a media frase el adverbio que estaba por usar.

«Every sentence is a model of concentrated expression, revealing, in the first poem some glimpses of mystic beauty, and in the second some new aspect of sordid horror.» — Prince describe la pareja de poemas por su reparto: belleza mística en el primero, horror sórdido en el segundo.

«Oh, into the purple sea would I cast my nets. I would drag its depths for the vagrant songs That sink to rest therein. I would trap the whisper o’ the shells And the moaning of the reefs. I would catch the silver sprays As they trickle back upon the sea’s breast Losing them in one great mightiness.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 7 de julio de 1917 sobre el mar púrpura; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«I saw the mountains rise like monster jaws, The sea their tongue. The white moon Came frighted to the night, and the pale stars Upon the paler sky, And the wagging tongue, telling, telling. Oh, the vasty ways were silent And the gaping jaws lay weary-oped As though they dropped in sleep. Mute the night, e’en the winds were still And the roaring emptiness quelled, But the tongue was telling, telling.» — según el volumen, el poema del 19 de septiembre de 1917 con la montaña como mandíbula y el mar como lengua.

«Silence, silence, silence, my answer. I am waiting, oh night, for the word. I have stood beside the gaping chasm, Waiting, waiting, but it cometh not, my answer. Hark! I send my voice calling, calling, Pealing, pealing, shrill, shrill, Cutting the silence like a keen-edged blade. Listing, I stand waiting, waiting, For the voice of God. I am hungry for the word. I wait, and the jaws gape And the tongue is telling, telling. Enough! I have heard, oh Lord!» — según el volumen, la segunda parte del mismo poema, donde la espera de la palabra divina termina en respuesta oída.

«Scarce had the moon writ her silver scroll across the sky Scarce had the night grown weak to die; Scarce had the morning stretched her rosy arms, out from the East, beckoning the day;» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema de la llamada, construido sobre la anáfora *scarce had*; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«And I knew thy voice, oh Love! No din of trumpetry may dim its call, no silence blot its beauty. Scarce had I trod my path, When the calling came. That shall lead me past the portal’s way Unto newer fields and deeper glories.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde la llamada se identifica con una voz amada.

«This may be interpreted several ways like a musical composition. To me it makes very little difference what the precise meaning is. Perhaps I like it all the better because that meaning is problematical, as I look up and down my street on a foggy morning, and like the hotel and the pinnacled residence in the distance the better because emerging dimly they suggest palaces or castles of whatever strange land I please.» — Prince declara que la indeterminación del sentido no le estorba, y la explica con la imagen de la calle en la niebla.

«It is the music of the poem’s rhythm, the haunting beauty of its metaphors, the felicity of its phrasing, which grip one.» — Prince nombra los tres rasgos por los que dice que el poema sujeta al lector, sin pasar por el significado.

«I listened last eve, to the evening’s song, And the music upon which it rested. I saw two towering cliffs, beturreted And a gaping golden space between. And the sun lay like a great glowing globe Upon the golden sea, and his rays Created a lyre, stringing in distinct Golden threading from cliff to cliff. And the night-birds strummed it with their wings And the sea hummed lazily beyond.» — según el volumen, el poema del 22 de julio de 1918, con los acantilados convertidos en lira.

«I have heard the moon’s beams Sweeping the waters, making a sound Like threads of silver, wept upon. I have heard the scratch of the» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Sounds Unheard by Man, dictado el 21 de julio de 1919; el troceo lo corta a media frase en el cambio de plana.

«Oh, I have heard The song of resurrection which each seed Makes as it spurts. I have heard the sound Of the night’s first shadow, when it Intermingles with the day, and the Rushing sound of Morning’s wings as she Flies o’er the Eastern gateway. All of these have I heard, yet man Hath not an ear for them. Behold, The miracle He hath writ within me; Letting the chord of imagination strum!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde la facultad que lo hace posible se nombra como imaginación puesta por Dios.

«I have heard the music men make Which is discord, proclaimed through Egotry. I have heard the churning Of water by man’s cunning, and the Shrieking of throttles which man addeth Unto the day’s symphony.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Sounds of Men, el poema gemelo dedicado al ruido humano.

«Men have ears For such; and the mystery of man is That he should present them, and cry: “Sing! Sing, Poet! Sing!”» — según el volumen, el cierre irónico del segundo poema, que Prince señala como su clímax emocional.

«And the path led unto the desert. Sands, sands, sands, sands. And a vulture mayhap scrolling The sky, lapping his wings lustfully O’er carrion. Sands, sands, sands, sands, Forever sands and I weary, Footsore. Yet, triumphant had I come Unto the spot. Is this then the goal? Sands, sands, sands, sands, Sands and silence. Little grains That quivered and slipped and cajoled One the other in heat, Arguing the instant hotter. This then the goal and I weary.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Through the Desert, dictado el 5 de abril de 1920.

«When sudden, A cloud cast a shadow, scarce bigger Than a palm upon the golden sea ; And I stopped, caught, following, following, And the vultures flapped and the sun beat And the sands became a tumult and my feet Lagged with heaviness. Yet yon Wert the shadow and I followed.» — según el volumen, el giro del mismo poema: una sombra del tamaño de una palma que se vuelve guía.

«It is night, and I, a fool In motley, weary, fling me down Upon the damped sod to play A game of wishin’; to stride The charger of my hope And make me yon.» — según el volumen, el poema Six Candles del 30 de agosto de 1923, con la voz poética como bufón en el prado; el troceo imprime el título con una c inicial rota.

«Lo, like a rider on and on, Lashing his steed, my fancy goes. Each pulse-beat marks the way And fiery sparks belight the dimlit way. Make on, my steed. Charge upward Through the vasty arch of night, Climbing the stars unto the spot Where the pearly moon stands guard At heaven’s gate. Charge on, my steed, Unfettered. Let me with my lance, Holy point of faith, shatter The lock and for one instant stand.» — según el volumen, el poema de los cascos volantes del 19 de septiembre de 1923.

«Wan-faced sister, Shy, confiding with the clouds, Shuttling shadow, Weaving mid the stars, Thy golden loom bestrung of silver threads. A net bespread? Eve.. a silent eve.. and thou. Velvety night, Royal in purple loveliness, And a white moth shuttling, Caught in a net of moonbeam.» — según el volumen, el poema de la mariposa nocturna del 24 de marzo de 1925.

«We began to talk, and in a few seconds Mrs. Curran said: “ Wait, she seems to want to give me another on this subject.”» — el registro consigna que la médium anuncia un segundo poema sobre el mismo tema mientras la conversación ya había vuelto a lo corriente.

«I am jealous, jealous, jealous! Who hath heard the scratch Of a thorn upon a Springtide’s cheek? Or the tiny breaking sound o’ the buds? Or the sharp, piercing little sound That the grass-blades must have made Upon their up-way through the sod? Or the sound the wave-froth makes As it vanishes on the air? Or the tread of the frost? Or the singin’ o’ the snowflakes? Or the tiny tinkle of the shadows Playing *neath the leafy way? Who hath heard them?» — según el volumen, el poema Jealousy del 1 de diciembre de 1917, cuya envidia es de sonidos que nadie ha oído.

«Lo, the river! A necklet hung upon the throat of the field, Whispering the chatter of the field folk, Singing full of echoes stored, Snatches of the songs of shepherds, Trills of the nightingales, The exultant peal of the morning lark, The cooing of the wood dove, And the bleats of the young sheep. Lo, all of these are the river’s song. And the banks sweep against it, Stroking its cheek, the pale cheek of the water, With soft tassels and softer mosses, Or smiting its cheek with the edge Of a reed or marsh grass. Lo, the voice of the river is uncomplaining, Murmuring confidently, surely moving Forward with its burden of sounds, To whisper a confidence to the listening sea!» — según el volumen, el arranque de A Harp and a Necklace, con el río como collar del campo.

«Before a company assembled on the evening of Jan. 13th, 1926, twenty-six short poems were delivered on subjects suggested by persons present.» — Prince fecha y cifra una sesión de composición por encargo: veintiséis poemas breves sobre temas dados por los presentes.

«One of the audience set her a lofty mark when he quoted from Keats, even though (if the record is correct, as I think from the manner of the response, it must be) his was a mutilated quotation—* magic casements, opening on . . . fairy lands forlorn.” The record seems innocent of knowledge on the part of any one present that the quotation was not complete.» — Prince señala que el tema propuesto venía de una cita mutilada de Keats, y que nadie en la sala parecía saberlo: el dato importa porque la respuesta se ajusta a la cita tal como se dio.

«I see fair fields where tufted poppies flaunt, And grain sags heavy ’pon its stem; Where larks nest in the shadowed coves At roots where damp still clings. Cool, restful cool, and quiet is the spot, And riotous poppies fringed about the nest, Bleed in their joy.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema compuesto sobre esa cita mutilada.

«I leave it quite to the reader’s judgment whether Patience Worth profaned Keats by her treatment of the text supplied by him, and whether Keats himself, had he been living and present, would not have appreciated the imaginative power shown in her lines, as well as their musical cadence.» — Prince vuelve a pasar el juicio al lector, en la comparación con Keats.

«I call attention, for the purpose of comparison, to the four last lines, wherein the singer is pictured sending forth a part of her being, the soul, and fancy as the magic casement-window which colors all that the soul sees. Keats also wrote of fancy; and he pictures fancy as the one let loose to roam.» — Prince compara las dos maneras de figurar la fantasía: ventana mágica en un caso, criatura suelta en el otro.

«It is a blasphemous “question, but if one can for the moment put aside the knowledge that Keats wrote these latter lines and suppose them by an unknown, are they better poetry than the impromptu lines of Patience Worth? Are they as good?» — Prince plantea otra vez el experimento de leer sin saber de quién es el texto, y llama a su propia pregunta blasfema.

«He wrote some of the finest poetry in the language and yet the fact was scarcely discovered by critics until after his death, probably because there was printed along with it “some of the most vulgar and fulsome doggerel ever whimpered by a vapid and effeminate rhymester in the sickly stage of whelphood.”» — Prince recuerda que a Keats se le reconoció tarde, y que junto a su mejor poesía se imprimió lo que la cita califica de ripio.

«These are not the words of the Quarterly Review which Byron erroneously supposed killed him, but were written by the poet Swinburne a half century after his death, for the Encyclopedia Britannica,» — Prince atribuye la frase a Swinburne y no a la reseña que Byron culpaba, y da la fuente.

«Patience Worth has never written such stuff, nor do I claim that she has ever risen to the unearthly height of the Ode on a Grecian Urn.» — Prince acota su comparación por los dos extremos: ni el ripio de Keats ni su cumbre.

«What do I hear? A flooding song, as though the sun Had poured its golden wine Earthward in cadences of beauty, Hath Heaven loosed its bars, Letting the echo steal earthward? What do I hear? Is it the pent-up agony Of my heart which hath borne fruit In song? Is it, mayhap, Half-laughing melodies so sweetly Reminiscent of a thousand instants I have cherished? or is it— Ah, it is! a lark Beating heavenward, lifting its song From earth’s contamination.» — según el volumen, el poema The Lark del 16 de julio de 1921, que resuelve en pájaro la pregunta con que abre.

«I have heard thee, lone piper, making silver notes in the gossamer eve, I have heard thee distilling thy love through the petals of the flowers.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 27 de febrero de 1922; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana, donde sigue con la pregunta por cuál dios escuchó.

«In the late eve, when the moon is heavy, And the leaves hush one upon the other, And the light of the moon splotcheth the shadows, And the shadows quiver tremorously before the silence; When the dew, soft-footed, creepeth upon the night; Magically in this hour, thou, oh sentinel, Dost sit like an echo calling, marking off the rhythms, Whipping the silence with a lash of song.» — según el volumen, el poema Whippoorwill del 26 de abril de 1925.

«Thy sands, the every grain methinks, be souls And all thy songs the songs o’ them; And when at morn I see thee lie Ashimmered ‘neath the gray-flushed sky, And see the morn-star set Athin thy deep, deep breast, Ah then do I know the peace, the peace O’ that long road that leadeth unto There And know, and know, and know the depth Of sky and thee be naught Unto the love o’ Him.» — según el volumen, el cierre del poema Ocean, donde los granos de arena se vuelven almas.

«Perhaps suggested by some one’s quoting Tennyson’s “ Break, break, break! ”» — nota de Prince que aventura la procedencia del estímulo del poema, marcada como conjetura.

«Lisping tongues of the sea, singing A thousand melodies. Lisping tongues Of the sea, or mighty lolling tongues, Whiche’er ye be, make thou the song dull Or monstrous toned. Sing thou the music Of the ages. Utter the depth of the sea Which holds the secret of all time Since that first day when He delivered it Unto the earth—a monstrous tear o’ brine.» — según el volumen, el poema Waves del 30 de marzo de 1925, con el mar nacido de una lágrima.

«Mr. Dunipace asked her to write a poem on Maumee.” Mrs. Curran thought it was some new breakfast food, but Patience did not hesitate and gave him this:» — el episodio muestra el procedimiento y su control: la médium no sabe qué es la palabra que se propone como tema, y la composición sale igual. Prince añade en nota que es un río de Ohio e Indiana.

«Hastening winds, Swallows swirling before, Wallowing tree tops, Insistent clouds swift passing, Light and shadow—tortuously intermixed, Grass bent, green-flatted, Frantic blossoms dancing, The slim blade of lightning slitting the cloud bank, A hush, The whine of the onrush, The soft whirr of a heavy drop splashed In the frothy dust at the woodskirt, The frightened flight of eerie songsters, The smell of heat, dust-choked, A sweet instant, And a crystal spangled hiss, Announceth rain!» — según el volumen, el poema The Coming Storm del 30 de mayo de 1921.

«Patience then said, “ This may be singing, but its a muckish tune.”» — según el volumen, el comentario con que la comunicante desprecia su propio poema recién dictado.

«Hush, hush, this is night— The holy hour set apart for the faithful. Hush, hush, this is night. Silently the stars come forth To watch, and the moon swings Like a cradle in the sky. Hush! The great God’s hand Hath stopped the throats of the birds, And they are mutely waiting morning. Hush! Even the kine are still, And the sheep lie quietly beneath The chiding shepherd-moon. Hush, hush! I would stop all intrusion, For my baby sleeps!» — según el volumen, el poema Night, que cierra revelando el motivo doméstico del silencio.

«How quick, how glad the sod insistent Gives forth its fruit! How glad, With what joy the barren-branch bespurts! What is the mystic thing which surges Like quickening fire within the veins of matter? Lo, naught but the love of God; a well gushing, Gushing. Spring, like a question, Forever lifting its head triumphant From out each barren wintertide.» — según el volumen, el poema Springtime del 26 de marzo de 1925, donde lo que empuja la savia se nombra amor de Dios.

«Who says the pallid Spring is sweet When richer Autumn gilds the Summer’s wane, When flaming scarlet flecks the mellowing leaf, And golden glamor glints the hedge-row and the field, Or some deep purple blossom tufts The yellow robe of grain the field disports, And here and there the lustered berries hang In vari-colored hue.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Spring and Autumn, del 5 de octubre de 1925.

«All consummate, the promises of Spring Disclose fulfillment in a golden script. Read, man, and smile at him who says the Spring can vie With such a rich profusion.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que da al otoño el cumplimiento de lo que la primavera promete.

«I think of the hushing of leaves, and of the intimate rustling, And of the weaving of the wind in and about, and of the soft whirr and night, And then the scratch of a leaf as it falls, Or the rustle of some field folk, or the shuttle of a wing. I think of a deep, deep shadowed place, besplotched of sunlight and shadow; And I, O my beloved God, in such a place, feel at one with Thee, For I learn in the silence, of the quickness of Thy tongue.» — según el volumen, el poema In the Forest, donde el silencio del bosque se declara vía de conocimiento de Dios.

«I love waters and dew and frost And thorn and young buds, befurred buds. I love forsaken nests. I love paths Bebriared, leading to deep thickets. I love lone still spots in the weods Where pools stand in isolation, Where the water spider writes the rhyme Of every hour. I love the sudden start Of some winged thing. I love To find a fallen feather or a down-trod bloom, Or some thick-lipped leaf just bursting up, yet not announced ; Or grass-grown footsteps, or new-pressed ones, Mayhap leading fieldward, in the thick-infested grass. I love cliffs where the fern clings And there is moss thick, and snails. I love these things, these half-expressed Expressions. They are seeds to my soul. They are intimate confessions to me, They are the bread for my fancy.» — según el volumen, el arranque de My Loves, del 26 de septiembre de 1921: un inventario de cosas menudas que se declara alimento de la imaginación.

«In the valley the kine lie; On the hillock the nightbird tunes his song; In the cot a panting whitethroat sings timorously, Wickered frae the wood. The pulse of a tolling bell melts in Echo’s arms; A cradled moon pours young stars from her tipped horn; Night’s wing is lifted in the East, And yet, reluctant that the sun poise westward, The day is writhing ere she dies in quietude. An holy hour ’twixt day and twilight— An hour in which to dream, and hope, And pledge faith with tomorrow. Farewell, O Sun, farewell, yon night approacheth; Lay thy weary head upon her breast, and let her wings enfold thee.» — según el volumen, el poema del 9 de marzo de 1926; el encabezado consigna que W. F. P. —el propio Prince— estaba presente en la sesión.

«Dead violets, crushed, will yield a breath of spring; But mould beneath the live oaks sigheth Only for the leaves that could not cling.» — según el volumen, la sentencia dictada el 15 de diciembre de 1913.

«In which direction do our natures tend to look—toward spring or fall, perfume or the odor of decay? Patience Worth believes that this is a matter of self-determination.» — Prince glosa la sentencia y le atribuye una doctrina: la disposición del ánimo como asunto de autodeterminación.

«Thee’lt tie thy God within thy kerchief, else have none of him, and like unto a bat hang thyself topsy-turvy to better view his handwork.» — según el volumen, la sentencia del 20 de noviembre de 1914 contra el dios de tamaño de pañuelo.

«This not only counsels a broad and sane mode of thinking but more specifically suggests that when things seem to be going wrong and one is dissatisfied with the world, the reason may be that there is something wrong with himself.» — Prince ofrece su lectura de esa sentencia, y la formula como consejo práctico.

«I saw thee at the hour when night surrendered to the morn, Thy jaw agape in sleep. Didst thou then see the sun send his heralds forth— The stirring of the wingéd beetle, and the scraping of his song? And didst thou see her golden light to stain The night’s bedimming rim to green, As verdant as Spring’s new field? Nay, thou but slumbered on to wake and wag * At the sparrow who didst bruise her bosom to speak his word to thee And thou art wagging still.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Try Thy Wing in Flight, del 20 de noviembre de 1914.

«Ah, brother, cast it to the wind, and try thy wing in flight, To flutter like a moth unloosed, and cease to sag beneath Thy load as oxen over-driven.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la exhortación que le da título.

«The following is in the quaint dialect of “ Telka,” but its meaning is sufficiently clear.» — Prince distingue los registros de lengua dentro del propio corpus y avisa cuándo entra el más cerrado.

«’Tis ever day. ’Tis but earth aturn from light that setteth dark. And so, ’tis ever glad; and ye but turn from glad, and lo, ’tis sorry’s night.» — según el volumen, la sentencia del 28 de junio de 1915 en el dialecto cerrado: no hay noche, hay tierra que gira.

«Sighing but bringeth up heart’s weary. Tears but wash the days acleansed. Hands abusied for them not thine, do work for Him. Prayers that fall *pon but the air and naught Ye deem, sing straight unto Him. Close, close, doth He to cradle His own to Him. Thine armor is then His love. He sendeth suns that rise ’pon dark, So doth dark to show ’pon bright. Thy sun is but a blush-morn sun And days that yet do come show thee their bright.» — según el volumen, las Maxims for a Clouded Life del 1 de agosto de 1915.

«I feared the night that came so silent creeping, Darksome, hanging of the gilded day with her woeful gloom. I feared the paths that I had known That sunk them now, o’er soon within the shadow. Fearful I stood before them, fearful did I seek The newness of the night’s coming. But lo, e’en while I feared I saw the starry way to flash, And circled moon to climb. The shadowed way was silvered And the gloom took white wings new and soared away. No longer then did fear tread with me, I knew that e’en the blackness Of night’s pit held His promise!» — según el volumen, el poema del 30 de junio de 1917, donde el miedo a la noche se resuelve en promesa.

«Oh, I know the road, the long, long road of day, that circles *bout the hours And I know the lash that with a ruthless hand is lain upon thee. Ah, I know the road of day full well, and know that night holds little comfort. I know, I know the empty tasks that, finished, fall like discs of brass. I know, I know the labor of creation, and the weariness of thy hands. I know the tread of men, each striving with sweat of intent and goaded with desire. Ah, I know, too, the follied one who shambling treads the way, Falteringly clinging to a tinselled bit and laughing. I know, I know. And o’er all, I know the weight of mercy ; Lo, a mercy which is merciful to the proud who would not of it, And to the fool, who knoweth it not.» — según el volumen, The Road of Day, del 6 de mayo de 1918, que enumera las fatigas del día para poner encima de todas la misericordia.

«I may not see the hand of decay Nor the writing of age upon the wooded ways.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 17 de abril de 1919, en que la voz declara no ver la decadencia; la negativa es programática, no descriptiva. El troceo corta aquí el fin del chunk.

«With Patience Worth this word signifies idle talking.» — nota léxica de Prince sobre el verbo *wag*, del tipo que va reuniendo para el capítulo del dialecto.

«I cannot behold the winter,— I would not know it. Nay, Within me is eternal May, writ Within mine eyes and inscribed upon My soul like golden sunlight. I shall never know night or winter, But mornings and springs.» — según el volumen, el cierre del poema del 17 de abril de 1919, con el mayo eterno inscrito en el alma; el arranque queda en la plana anterior.

«What are my sorrows but silver winged moths That eat my heart to tatters and flee Through the black night of Eternity Leaving me to heal the wounds? Oh, I think the tiny wings of the silver moth Are glad of the freeing, and speed to leave me That I become whole. Oh, in that vasty land, I think I shall come upon them, Some far, far day flitting through the darkness ; And I shall smile to think that I Had nurtured them, and be content.» — según el volumen, el poema Sorrow Moths, del 22 de septiembre de 1919, donde las penas se van y dejan que la herida cierre.

«It is eve. Shadows loll in the valley ways, Nestling in comfortful folds, to sleep until the morn. Yon, in the faint glow of the sun, Stretcheth the roadway, becoming lost In the darkness where the horizon Is becoming a part of the sky.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Let Us Upon the Way, del 25 de octubre de 1919.

«Shall we tarry here upon the summit? Give me thy hand and wait not for the coming Of morn’s first shaft to pierce the breast of night, Disclosing what the shadows hold in secret. Come, come, beloved, let us upon the way!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que declina esperar a que la luz aclare lo que la sombra guarda.

«Behold, within the cell of the monk Sorrow A taper lit, and I a moth, dancing, Pause in my fitful flight and seek Within, spreading my wings in the golden Glow unfearfully; and I am overcome With the essence of sorrow, which is But the light from the taper—and fall, To arise no more.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Taper in the Cell, del 22 de mayo de 1920, con la pena figurada como monje y la voz como polilla.

«My heart is a wicket gate; hung at a garden ’twixt me and the dinning day it stands. Beyond is the teeming roadway and the agony of day’s pageantry as it writhes past,» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Wicket Gate, del 3 de junio de 1920; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«And I am the garden, and my heart the wicket gate. He who enters unto this sacred spot first should turn the gate upon its pivot; Yea, entering he shall know the inner land with its shadeful seclusions, With its white-lit eves and its gilded days, with its shuttling songsters. He shall know the bordered plots; he shall become immersed in the perfume of peace. I am a garden, and my heart a wicket gate; And the road beyond, the teeming road with its writhing agony, is ' remote; For I shall let no stranger pass the wicket gate, save that I greet him with a delicate intimacy.» — según el volumen, el desarrollo del mismo poema, con el corazón como puerta que se abre solo a quien se recibe con intimidad.

«How long I sat before that slender goblet, knowing well that I must sup! How long I sat in wonderment! Fragile was I, and fearful, my lips thirsting for the contact, my will strong, my desire beckoning me. Yet before me was the wine untouched, and I shrank, fearful that I lay my lips upon its brim. And the hot winds rose and enwrapped me, and my tongue was parched and my thirst was sore, and the goblet was before me. And the wrath of the winds became more, and the heat of rebellion descended and seared me, And in a fearful moment when the lightnings split the heavens asunder, Lo, did I tremulously lay my hand upon the slender stem And with prayer-holied lips drank, drank to the very dregs.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Bitter-Sweet, del 13 de noviembre de 1920.

«And the bitterness! Ah, the bitterness clave unto my tongue! Yet I was uplifted, exalted with a new strength; I forgot my thirst, Yea, and looked upon the empty goblet in wonderment. That was yesterday, yea, only yesterday, And today, remembering the bitterness, I lift my glass anew and drink sweet wine. A troth to the sup of yesterday, whose bitterness steeped my soul in honey!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde lo amargo bebido ayer endulza el vino de hoy.

«To attain that gentle art, that peaceful art placidity; To let one’s day become a sill unto the doorway of his soul; To let one’s day rest as lightly on the soul As morning sunlight, or as filtering moonlight;» — según el volumen, el arranque de Placidity, del 11 de abril de 1921; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«To let sorrow intrude but as a gentle shower; To accept all things as a measure of justice; To know God by His just dealings, feeling secure in the measure received ; To temper the searing blast of the day By the intrusion of wit; to use the wit As the salt for stale bread; To become confident and arrive At that holy grace Placidity!» — según el volumen, el resto del mismo poema: aceptar todo como medida de justicia y usar el ingenio como sal para el pan duro.

«Man is fearful of his power, and in his fear doth break The rod which Moses held. Man is fearful of his power, he is afraid of his kinship, Hence loses his kingship.» — según el volumen, el poema Fear del 11 de abril de 1921, con el juego entre parentesco y reinado.

«A great red flaming sun, sombre in its majesty, Veiled in purple and silver mists, before whose face The tarnished finger of smoke seared, Writing the torture of labor.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Glory Behind the Smoky Sky, del 2 de febrero de 1922; el verso inicial se repite más abajo en el mismo poema.

«Awake, awake, the day is here. Who dallies then with dreams Or troths him with the night, Or trysts with yesterday? A thousand, thousand yesterdays Kneel before the gateway of this day Ere she taketh on the veil Of night, making their chants And consecrating her unto The office of the Lord.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Awake, the Day Is Here, del 18 de septiembre de 1923.

«Life and I are fellows; To me life is no stern companion, I cannot see his frown, I rub elbows with him. I know the prating of men as wisdom or folly, And life and I have an understanding. If tomorrow comes grey-clad I’ll remember a whistle or a song, And if there is a sun I’ll joy within it. Life IS—and as it is I love it.» — según el volumen, el poema del 30 de enero de 1925, donde la vida se trata de igual a igual.

«Weel, ’tis a sorry trade. It soles nae shoon, patches nae seat, fills nae belly, And leaves the platter empty and the mug dry.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *self-dissatisfaction* propuesto el 18 de agosto de 1925: se contesta por el rendimiento práctico, no por la moral.

«To game is to live. When thee ceasest to game, then youth is gone. *Tis the heritage of youth, left to age only as a memory. Youth leaps with joy Like a young fawn plunging expectant. Urged with valor, itched with desire, He flings him like a discus toward life. Tis a leap and a wager with life, Until Age hath come, and he knows then The Score.» — según el volumen, el poema Sportsmanship del 18 de agosto de 1925.

«To acknowledge defeat? When God hath flung the sun From His open hand, Lifted the curtain of the day And said, “ Behold, my child, behold? ”» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *discouragement* propuesto el 11 de enero de 1926: una sola pregunta por toda respuesta.

«Behold, there wert a wall, and beside it grew a rose, beauteous, trustful-reaching. But the wall wert thick and rough and dark-dealing. Think ye the rose kenned it? Nay, it reached forth and climbed trustful up to where it once seemed the eve-star wert pinned and to where at morn the sky blushed, and she whispered: “ Yon, yon, yon!” And lo, the tides swept? until she had reached the crest o’ the wall, and her head nodded gladsome and became heavy and fell forward, bloomed in full! And the spot wert enthralled and the earth beneath looked up saying aloud: “ What is this thing?” But the rose knew, for she had plucked from the sky the airs of eternity and distilled them!» — según el volumen, The Parable of the Rose, en el dialecto cerrado; Prince añade en nota que *the tides swept* significa el paso del tiempo.

«Is morning less lovely Because rain fell? Or because The winds were ruthless and played At havocking about the blossoms? Is morning less lovely because My eyes are brimming and my heart Is such a little heavy thing, beating My bosom with a rhythmic pulse and hurting? Yet is morning less lovely? Nay, For her head, even though rain has Descended, is lifted and interwoven With rainbows, and the havocking wind, Has spread a footcloth of leaves ; Some of them perfumed things With honey upon their lips, pink And glowing, yea, or crimson bruised. Oh, what a happy thing that I With brimming eyes may see this morning!» — según el volumen, el poema My Morning, que sostiene el valor de la mañana a pesar de la lluvia y del llanto.

«Wait yet a little while, and sorrows shall find a shadow, Wait yet a little while, and the grey cloud shall rift. Wait yet a little while, and the little bird shall flee The grey-wrapped nest, finding the sun And the newer fields afar. Wait yet a little while, oh my heart! Listen not unto the day’s mourning. Make thy song new of faith, cast thy tattered robe of woe, And wait yet a little while.» — según el volumen, el poema Wait Yet a Little While, construido enteramente sobre la repetición de su título.

«Where hath my ship agone? I set it out, and watched it sink to naught, And lo, I stand astrain in wonder where it be. Yea, where hath the ship agone? With loving did I set asail the craft And wait and wait and wait, for word to come to me; For unto harbors I know not, it saileth on. And though the wraths of storm do wash it frae its course Still doth it sail, to where, ah me, to where? Will its frail masts hold strong? Hath the course been laid aright? Will it come back to me a broken toy, Beat, and broke, and store alost? Ah, where hath the ship agone, Can I then wait me here? Yea, for though Its mast may snap and though the course be lost What care, what care, have I? For it was builded strong as love o’ me might build And saileth unto Him.» — según el volumen, el poema del 13 de septiembre de 1915, cuya inquietud por el barco perdido se resuelve entregándolo a Dios.

«Sorrows, searin’ sorrows: I saw a cloud pass the mornin’ star, Swift, swift; and thou art less than this. Woes, ye seemin’ woes: I saw a moth fly past the candle’s burnin’ taper; And thou art less than this. Achin’ hearts, sorrow-laden: I saw a dew’s glint dried aneath the sun; And thy achin’ be, ah, less than this. For I do know a spot Where clouds o’ earth’s-woes part. Athrough this shall I flee unto the sun, Straight, straight, to bathe in sunlight pure Before I seek me on.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Sorrows, del 26 de febrero de 1917, que mide cada pena contra una imagen mínima.

«Oh, a beggar am I. The sky O’er my head and the vast spreading fields All are mine. No path that doth lead O’er the heather-way’s mead, but ’tis mine, And no man says me nay.» — según el volumen, el arranque de A Beggar Am I, del 21 de julio de 1917.

«But a beggar am I. Ah, ’tis true. But my purse, ’tis afilled For I filled it 0’ love, o’ love. Oh, a beggar am I, but glad!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: la bolsa llena de amor por toda riqueza.

«Peace, oh gentle sister, hast thou fled? White-winged, hast thou made away unto some summit far With thy golden urn of plenty? Hast thy smile faded and thine eye teared, Blinding thee unto the woe thou leavest? While thy sister, Mercy, claspeth to her bosom Earth’s children, succoring hosts with love?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 1 de octubre de 1917, con la Paz ausente y la Misericordia sosteniendo sola a la tierra.

«Peace, oh gentle sister, hearest thou not the calling? Knock thee at the hearts of men, Turning the key of love within the lock of hate. Peace, Peace, oh gentle sister, Make haste, for Mercy is weary And the earth perisheth.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la llave del amor en la cerradura del odio.

«When the night be cauld and the winds do whip *Bout the meads and hillock ways; When the snow beats thick and the taper’s wick Leans with the draftin’ breath; I sit me snug where the firelog’s tongues Be lickin’ o’ the embers.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Fireside ’mid the Storm, del 26 de noviembre de 1917, en el registro escocés más cerrado.

«Gi’e me nay pearls nor coral’s bar, Nor gold or siller’s gleam Gi’e me nay treasure in casket bound, Nay kingly gaud nor bauble, But an arched sky agleamin’ blue In a ruff o’ fleecy cloudin’s, And a quiet highland kissed o’ breeze And a wee brown hut ’mid the heather.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que cambia el tesoro por una choza en el brezal.

«When time hath trod with me a long, long way, and we Have grown aweary, time of me, and I of time, will then ‘The mornings seem one-half so sweet, or the bluebells’ coming cease To chime to me? Or shall I be weary o’ the passing things? No longer see in weary eyes the dying smile, or in The youth-lit ones the dawn of love, O will the day be then But a mute trudging on, with time who is weary of me And I sae weary of time?» — según el volumen, el poema del 14 de diciembre de 1917, que pregunta por la vejez sin contestarla.

«I behold thee. I hold thee within my hand. Senseless matter, which, By the cunning application Of my love, shall leap forth White, resurrected; Some dream of some past god, Mayhap, before which I kneel!» — según el volumen, el poema For a Sculptor, del 9 de noviembre de 1918, en que la materia resucita bajo la mano que la trabaja.

«I would exult, yea, and exalt; His magnitude is before me; Yet would I not forget His magic upon the fields; Where the poppies spurt some hero’s heart, Or lilies lift their waxen heads From the white breasts of maids who danced On yester’s meadow’s way.» — según el volumen, el poema His Magic, del 27 de diciembre de 1918.

«I am a clayster, a moulder of bowls; my hands are grimed of their whirring. Bits of clay build the master craft which is mine; little atoms of dust, —clay. Besmearing clay, I sit watching it slip with its glistening, cloying, waxen substance, Beneath my hand becoming perfect—clay!» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Potter, del 28 de abril de 1919.

«Grains of myrrh, dusts of palms, mould of lilies, sands from the tombs of kings, Mayhap bits of rubies which once burned glowing, and were pressed by loves now dead,— All of these are within the clay And all my tears intermingle them, Building a bowl upon the wheel.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la mezcla de sustancias y lágrimas que entra en el barro.

«Dreams are magic things, And fellow not with lordlings more than swineherds. Dreams are magic things; They are Prologue, lifting the corner of the curtain of eternity. Dreams are magic things; Touching cares to vanish with a wand of witchery. Oh, linger in the land of dreams, For it is the rightful kingdom of the spirit.» — según el volumen, el poema Dreams, del 3 de julio de 1919, que declara el sueño reino propio del espíritu.

«Behold, upon the slipping silver sands there lay a conch,—pink, glowing, aye, and pearled upon its lips, And it harked, harked unto the ages, and to the lisping sea, and its weighty argument in anger and to its peaceful discourse; And heard the winged hosts that circled o’er the arched sky, dripping their notes on high that they might fall like jewels into the waves, And sink within the waters to come forth like echoes at some early morn, encradled in the arms of the young waves.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Conch’s Song, del 29 de agosto de 1919.

«Lo, in that empty morning the conch unloosed its store of ages and sang upon the shores,» — según el volumen, el giro del mismo poema, donde el canto guardado por siglos se suelta en una mañana vacía; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Moon, pale sister, withdrawn, secluded, Apart, hallowed, intimately announcing Thyself, yet secretive of thy wisdom! Moon, pale sister of man; never, never, Hast thou dimmed thy love to one mortal! Alike upon the brow of the noble And the hunch of the beggar hast thou rested. Yea, and thou hast fallen asleep Within the uncurled hand of the infant, Or lain for a moment on the burning lips Of a poet, purifying his utterance.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Moon, Pale Sister, del 1 de diciembre de 1919.

«For moon, sweet sister, I remember that thou hast shone On the valleys of Galilee, and the hills Of Bethlehem, and upon the fields Of Nazareth. Likewise hast thou rested In a silver circlet upon His brow; Mayhap in an early eve or at a late hour Thou wert His companion. Mayhap Interwove of thorns upon Golgotha.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que lleva la luna a los lugares de la vida de Jesús y termina en el Gólgota.

«Oh I, like a lady, sit removed In a turret place, threading a strand Of my soul like a golden thread Through the dull, dull hours. Yon, on the dusty highway, Warriors pass, their glistening spears Prick the blue skies and their banners Stream gaudily across the peaceful» — según el volumen, el arranque de From a Turret Window, del 12 de febrero de 1920; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Mourn beneath the hand of one who stroked. Strange, but the echo laughed! How might I know then Whether the harp mourned or joyed?» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Universal Singing, del 8 de marzo de 1920; el troceo corta el primer verso en el límite de chunk.

«Oh, this is fitting. There is no New, new song. Today but catcheth the echoes Of yesterday and plays in childish Wonderment with their cadence.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: no hay canción nueva, solo ecos de ayer. La afirmación toca de lleno la cuestión de la originalidad que el volumen discute en otra parte.

«Lo, am I a child Beside the sea, blowing bubbles. Yea, each morn I sit Beside the sea of Eternity Casting the fanciful creations forth, The tenuous bubbles of my hope.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Blower of Bubbles, del 10 de mayo de 1920, con la esperanza figurada como pompa de jabón.

«Oh, I am a child beside the sea Of Eternity blowing bubbles.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que vuelve al primer verso tras enumerar los tres destinos de las pompas.

«I know a spot, a mystic spot, Unsunned, enveloped in a silver mist Which veils the light, where wan-cheeked babes Grope, piteously calling. I know a spot where half-begotten hopes, Condemned, pass phantom-like within the mist.» — según el volumen, el poema Lost Children, del 14 de julio de 1921, donde las esperanzas a medio nacer pasan como los niños perdidos.

«Oh spider, spinning in the sun, Slipping thy shuttle of silver, Where, oh where are the moonbeams gone That late last night did trick thee?» — según el volumen, el arranque de Spider Song, del 6 de agosto de 1921; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«I count the days till the South Wind blowing Shall fan my cheek caressing, Till I shall see, o’er the gay-decked mead Whits of thistle flying. I shall count the days until the winds Shall fitful blow a-shuttling A silver barb with a golden tip To my casement where I’m watching. And I shall feel the soft, warm touch Of the fluffy thing against me And I shall know, ah, I shall know That the waiting then is over.» — según el volumen, el arranque de What the South Wind Sent, del 6 de agosto de 1921.

«How could I forget? Today in the stark grey, when the leaves Are bleeding, e’er they fall, when the scent Of decay is in the air, aye, and the scent, The holy scent of fading sweetness.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Blossoming Thorns, del 7 de noviembre de 1921; la pregunta del título vuelve cuatro veces en el poema.

«I who pricked my fingers till the red blood spurts, Plucking thorns. How could I forget, How in the spring I plucked white blooms And saw these self-same thorns bedecked as brides? Another morrow comes, another Spring.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde las espinas que hieren en otoño son las mismas que florecieron en primavera.

«I am as a little child before a gateway With a magic key within my hand. I have come to the end of a long road And am a little weary and I want to play. Oh I would turn the magic key within the gate And run down the damp path where the primrose stands, Where the late sun shows redly on the grass. I would fling my arms wide and breathe deep, And forget how long, long, long the road. This is not complaining. This is only hoping, Lord.» — según el volumen, el poema I Want to Pray, del 6 de marzo de 1922, que se acota a sí mismo en el último verso para que no se lea como queja.

«Oh, ancient lyre with sagging strings And frame caressed by time. Mute is thy song, And yet in a far yesterday at some lady’s court, Mayhap e’en in the hands of the troubadour Who knelt and sang, thou too didst whisper, Chiming the pulsing of his heart, Gushing the red fount of his love. Whispering, confiding, luring, enchanting, Thou didst lend thee; mayhap a garland *Bout thee wound or a flaming ribbon From thee hung and thy tremorous voice Betrayed his trembling hand. Mayhap, Thou hast sung while rank and file Of knights, bearmored knights, passed by. Mayhap, thou’st sung a lilting lay To some poor crown-bewearied head In that far yesterday, and then forgot, Dropped from the stilled hand, Thou’st mouldered thee away.» — según el volumen, el arranque de To an Ancient Lyre, del 26 de septiembre de 1923.

«Thy voice would be alike the voice of age Made thin by time, a wordless, hopeless note. Methinks thoud’st utter one sad tremorous cry And break once more.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que niega la restauración de lo que el tiempo apagó.

«Oh, I wonder if all the tears unshed And shed assemble not at the hem Of Spring, becoming the gentle rains Of sweet fruition. I wonder if all The sighs which trembling come or die Bestifled, assemble not in some holy spot Returning as winds which lash and beat In agony or langorously caress. I wonder, oh I wonder, if hope cut down, The dewy, dewy hope of all the earth, That sweet sustaining essence which besparkles New each morn, becomes not the winter snow, The white pure ash which sifts upon the dead, Dead boughs bedecking them.» — según el volumen, el poema del 11 de octubre de 1923, que hace de las lágrimas, los suspiros y la esperanza cortada tres fenómenos del clima.

«T was morning, when my footsteps led me down the winding way. The heavy smoke still hung the damp grey airs. Mine eyes looked for the coming sun, but it did fail, And weak stars fearful, trembled ’mid the heaven’s deep. The Earth beneath my very footfall shook. The sod’s breast opened in gashes wide. The field’s bloom drooped, or flamed red, E’en as some dull fire.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Battle Field, del 6 de noviembre de 1916; el troceo abre con *T* donde el impreso lleva el apóstrofo.

«And each one bore this shaming word: “Brother!”» — según el volumen, el cierre de The Battle Field: la palabra grabada en las cruces del campo.

«Peace hath not ceased to stare; Hath not yet unfroze her tongue For fearing, hath not yet let Her arms fall from suppliance, Hath not yet stanched the bleeding Of her heart. Though her lips smile She is mute, and only the succor Of ages may comfort her!» — según el volumen, el poema Peace del 5 de enero de 1920, escrito con la guerra recién acabada y sin celebrarla.

«Can I then hope to tear from out my heart the song ’twould tell thee? Were I to sing to the woodland, ’twould be thy song. Or should I pipe of happy days when thou wert absent from my life, Thoud’st creep within the singing and every note be thine. Or should I make a song unto my saddest season, Thou still would’st sing, e’en through my sorrowing. Thou who art but the essence of my song’s wine Hast blossomed long before, within its very grape, And ripened with my season’s heat and cold. Who then denies that from my first voiced crooning, thou Hast been the vibrant chord?» — según el volumen, el poema Predestined Love, del 25 de mayo de 1914.

«Amid a garden of rue and tuft and spice-pinks grew a rose Who crept from ’neath the wall and clung unto an oak who sheltered her. And all the flowers were afraid lest his gnarled limbs, set dancing in the storm, Would crush her slender stalk. Not so the rose, she clung, and wrapped his stark, ungainly rack With garlands, and her red lips brushed his knotted joints until With tapestry hung, and pinned with golden butterflies, he stood, And scented breezes sung his lullaby, and ah, he slept and dreamt that ne’er again Would robins leave him lonely for a sweeter bower. But waking, found the rose—his love—had reached his topmost branch, And clambered back and o’er the garden wall to join a jack-rose blooming at its base. And leaving stark and dead his gaunt old frame.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Old Love, New Love, del 6 de abril de 1915, con la rosa que abandona al roble que la sostuvo.

«Well, lackaday, ’tis fitting, dear, old loves should die, But round them build a loving for the new. A nodding plume is wont to start a maiden’s heart, And spear and shield to wake thy truant forekin blood. Ah, ah, the conquest! Put ye faith in Knighthood’s valor And veil thy maiden eyes to false and cheating maiden fears; The heart that will not believe.» — según el volumen, la moraleja del mismo poema, que acepta la muerte del amor viejo como condición del nuevo.

«I remember it was young May when love came, unbidden, unto me, I remember the very eve, with its aloofness, yet its yielding. I remember the masked moon that led the stars forth, And the whiteness of earth beneath her deathy spell And how love came. Tall he was, with fair hair, and two eyes that spoke truth, With lips that were haunted by a pureness, as though the spell of _ motherhood still hung about them, And his arms were unlearned,—lo, they encradled me like a mother her babe. And the eyes knew not the new thing that stirred, but spoke unto mine like a babe’s unto its mother’s.» — según el volumen, el arranque de When Love Came, del 15 de abril de 1918.

«I am undone, for I have learned new things, and I could not understand him now.» — según el volumen, el cierre de When Love Came; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana.

«Forth, my love, fly Like a moth about the flame Of my beloved’s smile! Forth, my love, fly, And dost thou perish in its flame, Then in thy joy, die, die!» — según el volumen, el poema Abandon, del 3 de febrero de 1919; el primer verso se repite dentro del poema.

«Slender River, embracingly flowing; A symbol of love. Behold, the hillock Becometh verdant at thy kiss And fields spurt anew. But the Restlessness of thy urge taketh thee on, Seeking unto the sea. Behold, The symbol of love, and Eternity.» — según el volumen, el poema The River, del 20 de julio de 1919, con el río como símbolo doble de amor y eternidad.

«Strange, is it not, beloved, that even as I lay my cheek to thine, Even as my eyes behold thine, even as we together, lip to lip, declare through our silence adoration ; Strange, is it not, that these atoms which are thee and me Have held this wine since first they sifted through the ether from the great God’s fingertips? My lips, beloved, have kissed a thousand kisses, My arms, beloved, have embraced a thousand thousand loves. Mine eyes, beloved, have beheld seven thousand thousand thousand beauteous things. Yea, even as I embrace thee, I am encircled with that understanding Which is born within me through the common usage of my clay.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Inheritance of Ages, del 19 de diciembre de 1919: los átomos del cuerpo traen consigo todos los amores anteriores.

«Strange, is it not, beloved, this symbol? We, the chalices of His steadfast pledge, Stand for a moment cheek to cheek, and lo! Crumble once more, letting the wine to flow Its scarlet stream across eternity ; Indelibly writing thee and me, And our dusts lie waiting for the Potter’s hand To turn new chalices for newer loves.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la imagen del alfarero que rehace los cálices para amores futuros.

«Love is a voice Which ceaseth not through instant, Hour, day or all eternity. And doubt is a moth Who would devour her raiment Leaving her naked.» — según el volumen, el poema Love and Doubt, del 20 de noviembre de 1920.

«I have said, I have said: * Thou art sprung from my side, Rooted in my substance.” I have said: ‘ Without thee I am nothing.” I have said it In a thousand tongues, I have said this In a thousand glances. I have said this, And having said it, who may undo it? Not even God, for He would not!» — según el volumen, el poema Oneness, del 27 de diciembre de 1920, que pone lo dicho por encima de lo que Dios podría deshacer.

«No Spring is there who suffers not the lightning and the storm. No garden spot which hath not trembled ’neath the wind And felt the crushing tumult of the rain. No summer day but that the sun’s most fiery ray hath scorched, And angerous storm arisen. No winter’s tide but that the angered blast Hath whipped its tattered robe. Ne’er was there love a-born save that sorrow led it earthward And remained its guardian. For every love doth measure Every sorrow, and every sorrow measure every love. Supernal happiness is naught but that sweet amalgamation Where sorrow merges love, and love doth merge in sorrow; Forgetting and forgot, forgotten and forgetting. Yea, and that sweet recompense, remembrance unalloyed!» — según el volumen, el poema Compensation, del 24 de enero de 1921, donde amor y pena se miden uno a otro.

«I found thee, and finding thee, found full expression of the self That none but mine own self had known— The self that reacheth to the heights and strayeth not along the valley, So shrouded that none may see his brother’s face, But knoweth him only as a shadow shape that vanishes at the sun’s height. I found thee and knew thee, companion heart, The gem of life’s diadem, my Friend!» — según el volumen, el poema Friendship, del 10 de julio de 1914.

«Within my heart is a little house With windows wide, whose latch Hath never bit its lock,— Whose pathway is inviting.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The House Within My Heart, del 28 de agosto de 1919.

«Within my heart there is a little house Whose latch hath never bit its lock. All paths lead there and none therefrom. The windows, nor the door shall bar Departure, but I defy thee, dost Thou crave to leave, for I shall prison thee Of love.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: la puerta nunca se cierra y el que quiera irse queda preso de amor.

«Dream, dream, thou flesh of me, dream thou next my breast. Dream, dream, and coax the stars to light thee at thy rest. Sleep, sleep, thou breath of Him who watcheth thee and me. Dream, dream, and dreaming, coax that He shall see. Rest, rest, thou fairy form that presseth soft my breast. Rest, rest, and nestle warm, and rest and rest and rest.» — según el volumen, la nana del 1 de octubre de 1915.

«Two eyelids oped, and lo, the heavens’ ope I saw, And, like a twinklin’ star God’s smile reflected there. Two lips did part and through their curve, I breathed the breath o’ heaven. Two wee arms raised and circled me With wondrous love; an armor, oh my God.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Heaven in My Baby’s Eyes, del 26 de agosto de 1917.

«Hark! Out the ages o’ silence, out the vasts o’ naughts, out the breast o’? Him who loveth thee hath sprung a new thing who beareth within its hands a tether o’ love that hath been tied unto thee that shall drive thee e’en through eternities; for that that hath been, shall ever be!» — según el volumen, lo dictado en el primer cumpleaños de Patience Wee; Prince añade en nota que se trata de una niña adoptada.

«Make thine hearts humble before love. Make thee contrite, aye, and lowly before love. Make ye strong, yea, and mighty, with the wine of love, which poureth out the heavens. Hold thy heart’s cup that He may fill it. His grace upon thee, and His love continue to stream as ever it hath, and may He make thee that thy hands lift high the cup for the pouring. For dost thou lack, ’tis not Him but thee!» — según el volumen, la segunda parte de ese mismo dictado, que traslada al oyente la responsabilidad de la carencia.

«I wonder if Mary, the Mother, Jealous of all childhood, keeps not The vigil of the night, lighting A tiny taper for each soul as it seeks The eternity of dreams; croons not Through the long hours and intercedes With God through her motherhood.» — según el volumen, el poema del 11 de octubre de 1923, que atribuye a María una vigilia nocturna por cada alma.

«Lord, most humbly have I received Thee, I have let my head recline upon Thy bosom, I have encradled Thee with mine arms, I have sung from out my heart The song of loving unto Thy listening ear. I have been stirred with the tenderness Which this contact hath brought me. Lo, I have let my lips Rest upon the brow of my babe, And so have kissed His hem.» — según el volumen, The Spark of God: la identificación entre besar al hijo y besar el borde del manto divino.

«The smile thou cast today that passed unnoticed by the world, The hand clasp of a friend, the touch of baby palms upon its mother’s breast, Whither have they flown along the dreary way? Perhaps the smile hath fallen upon a daisy’s golden head, To shine upon some traveller along the dusty road And cause a softening of the hard, hard way. Perchance the handclasp strengthened wavering love And lodged thee in thy friend’s regard. And where the dimpled hands caress will not a well of love spring forth? Who knows and who will tell the hiding of these fleeting gifts?» — según el volumen, el poema del 22 de mayo de 1914, que rastrea el destino invisible de los gestos menudos.

«List thee, wee one; see, thou art o’ the hearth o’ the loved o’ me. So look thee; when thou hast seen a thing that sheweth unto thee as lovely, think thou o’ Him, yea, and know this thing be His. Then shall this hand to pluck? And doth it shew unto thee e’en at the thought o’ Him, lovely, then ’tis for thee. And doth it shew ’pon thy cheek the blush at the thought of Him, then, Wee One, flee! Keep this athin thy heart; flee, flee from aught save His.» — según el volumen, la instrucción moral dirigida a la niña, con el criterio de discernimiento puesto en el rubor.

«Gird thee o’ thy blade! Set signs ahigh unto all men! Carol loud the warrin’ song! Yea, trumpet loud thy blast and bellow wars! Smite thou His own, and set The gushed founts o’ scarlet that they spurt! Gnash thy blades! Arattle them Till like unto the stripped bones they clatter!» — según el volumen, el arranque de To the Warsmen, del 22 de abril de 1916: la exhortación bélica se dicta en imperativo y en ironía.

«Ah, wait and look! But grinnéd skulls At empty stare agreet thy waiting there; Nor tongues do hang their jaws To prate thy victory! Empty. Empty. Empty at thy hand! Do thou to fill it back! See, the sun ahangs ahigh And gleams ’pon havoc o’ thy blade, To mock thee in his holied gold!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la victoria devuelta como calaveras y manos vacías.

«Through the spring have I known joyousness. With mine own hands I plucked the blossoms, And tenderly did I pluck a lily; Waxen-pure, aye, and sweet-bathed, Honey-lipped and golden-hearted. Oh, the earth knew not this plucking, Nay, earth knew it not, but I.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Perished Ideals Yet Shall Bloom, del 8 de agosto de 1917.

«Make thine eyes keen unto woe, and thy lips sweet with soothing; Make thine ears hearken unto that which thou would’st not hearken unto; Make thy heart pure in the purging of service. Oh, when the eve cometh make thy pack heavy o’ loving labor, Pluck up that which earth hath forgotten For it is the Master’s precious stuff.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Labor of Love Is Magic, del 24 de septiembre de 1917.

«Behold, restless labor is Earth’s, And laborless rest is a fool’s task.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con el reparto entre trabajo terreno y descanso celeste.

«I know you, you shamster! I saw you smirking, grinning, Nodding through the day, and I knew you lied. With mincing steps you gaited before men, shouting of your valor, Yet you, you idiot, I knew you were lying! And your hand shook and your knees were shaking. I know you, you shamster! I heard you honeying your words, Licking your lips and smacking o’er them, twiddling your thumbs In ecstasy over your latest wit. I know you, you shamster! You are the me the world knows.» — según el volumen, The Deceiver, del 17 de diciembre de 1917, cuyo último verso revuelve el poema entero contra quien habla; la apelación se repite tres veces dentro del poema.

«Who is he who cloaketh himself within a mug? Not his shadow’s brother nor a fellow with God. Nay, he hath recreated himself, a thing whose soul is unpinned, flapping like tatters to the whither-winds! Aye, I say me should his God call he would ha, ha, ha! Should his soul return and stand before him, he would touch his brow and say: * Mornin’, brother. Who art thou?’» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta por la bebida y la prohibición: el bebedor se describe como quien se ha recreado a sí mismo.

«Behold thee, let earth weight such a man within the scale held by justice. Let earth first find him who set up the thirst. Let it scourge, even as an evil, the thing that hath set the itch of thirst within his throat.» — según el volumen, la segunda mitad de esa respuesta desplaza la culpa: pide juzgar también a quien montó la sed.

«Behold, the head of man, not his belly, should lead his legs!» — según el volumen, la sentencia con que se cierra la respuesta sobre la bebida.

«Hope was once my fellow, whispering me the urge to attain. With the itch of possession upon me did I walk the highways, seeking things that, I might make my own, thereby enriching my day. Lo, with tireless hands did I make my store great, ceaselessly adding lustrous stuffs unto my treasures. Forgetting all else, e’en my fellows’ smile; Knowing not the sighs that whispered as they passed ; Seeing not the tears that made cool my path, distilling their soothing upon the dusts and making dews of gentleness for my feet. Then a night came when I found my roadway ceased. Weary was I, bebowed of the weight of treasures. Silently I sat with my weariness—a mute companion, neither did the darkness speak nor whisper. The sighs had gone, and my fellows forgot me, who had passed them unseeing.» — según el volumen, el poema The Miser, del 6 de mayo de 1918, donde la acumulación se paga con soledad al final del camino.

«Should I seek a gift for him most loved, What treasure should I then purchase? Rich gems, or incense and myrrh, or scentful Herbs? Rich cloths of skins as soft As fleece? What wondrous chaplet Would I fashion to contain them?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 18 de julio de 1918; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Not my heart, which is already his, Not these eyes which strain to behold him, Not these lips which speak his name lovingly For I shall need my heart, by which to pledge him; And my eyes to behold him, and my lips to call his name. But my hands! Ah, there is the gift! My hands and their labor.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: el don que queda por dar es el trabajo de las manos.

«My hand, behold it—God’s implement! The Master speaks, and it labors, following No pattern, but groping through darkness— Uncertainty creating certainties! My hand, behold it—God’s implement! With the touch of its flesh I am quickened Into a creator; Thereby am I a part of Him, given An infinitesimal portion of His power.» — según el volumen, el arranque de My Hand, del 9 de enero de 1919, que hace del trabajo participación en el poder divino.

«Behold my hand, the link between earth And that splendor which is Eternity; For labor is the path unto Redemption.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con el trabajo declarado vía de redención.

«I am tolerant. By the gods I swear it; I who have listened Unto the statements of men—listened Unto them, knowing their ring, Whether false or true; and listening Long at times, for one which even Tinkled of truth!» — según el volumen, el arranque de My Epitaph, del 25 de septiembre de 1919.

«I strive not for one whit which I may not earn; but God, great merciful God! When I am gone, let men say: “A MAN lived.”» — según el volumen, el epitafio que la comunicante pide para sí, en versalitas tal como el volumen las imprime.

«Scarlet emblem, blushing symbol: Pillow of the God-head where its Regal brow bended and it wept tears Which burned the ages. Blushing symbol; Bathed in mercy; what man may stand Before but that he raise his hands Palms up, and his heart leap, And he remember Nazareth, the birth Of love, and Golgotha, its culmination.» — según el volumen, el poema The Red Cross, del 12 de noviembre de 1919.

«Earth, the treadmill; And man’s foot, since time, Hath sent her spinning, Making his own hour; Yet wailing to God At the impotency of the plan!» — según el volumen, la pieza breve del 3 de mayo de 1920: el hombre hace girar la rueda y luego se queja del plan.

«Lo, is my heart as an hourglass, Slipping sand. It runneth dry In mercy and turns within my bosom Beginning anew. Lo, are my hands like shuttles Plying. Weary at night, empty, Yet morn findeth them made ready For slipping anew. Lo, am J a darting thistledown Blown hither, yon, dartling An instant sunward, yet, tempted of shadow, Dipping thereto. Lo, am I As a thistledown, pregnant of a seed. What though the blowing listeth me Fancifully? I am pitted of purpose! I am burdened of commission, I am enslaved with desire, I may not be free from it!» — según el volumen, Obsessed of Purpose, del 3 de mayo de 1920: el vilano llevado por el viento y a la vez preñado de propósito.

«Behold, is the loom of the day strung and the shuttles lie ready. If thou dost approach the loom-side and in due time thy hand doth fall Upon a shuttle, then is the instant pivoted which swings thy course. Nor shalt thou seek, for unto thy hand cometh the shuttle!» — según el volumen, At Thy Hand, del 3 de mayo de 1920: no hay que buscar la tarea, viene a la mano.

«It is late. Yea, beloved, I know that this is the first hour Of morning. Yet it is late, so late! This is the tatter of the cape Of Eternity, this morning, and we cling Unto it. I say it is late.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Hour Strikes, del 26 de abril de 1923, que llama tarde a la primera hora de la mañana.

«Shall I offer thee my purse, O, my brother? Shall I give thee pence to buy raiment? This is a cheap stuff! Rather, would I say, “ Brother, arise; here is my hand!”» — según el volumen, el poema Charity, del 13 de marzo de 1926, que descarta la limosna por barata.

«I would not be lit with the fevered flame, Nor burned as a sacrificial torch. I would not send my call Like a clarion across the day, Nor wield my sword defending. Rather would I be calm, secure, assured, Dealing mercy, yea, and understanding. This is an holier task.» — según el volumen, la pieza compuesta para el reverendo W. L. Sullivan, que opta por la calma frente al celo.

«I think that Yesterday is but Today grown pale in sleep, and Today is but the instant of her awakening; and tonight she shall sleep again and wake in the Morrow. This is Life and Eternity. Yea, but Life is sleeping and Eternity waking. Life is a confused dream and Eternity is its understanding.» — según el volumen, la sentencia del 8 de diciembre de 1919 que ordena vida y eternidad como sueño y comprensión.

«Oh, I ha’e a tryst, a pledge, A troth with Yesterday. Today, A winsome lass wi’ smilin’ eyes, Wr’ red lips flashin’, wi’ cheeks as pale As lily buds and flushed as poppies, Tempts me, but yonder in the twilight At the stile, waits Yesterday.» — según el volumen, el poema Remembrance, en el registro escocés, donde el pasado espera en la portilla.

«Morn is a siren singing upon the shore which is Night. And the crafts of men are lured through the day. And behold, to the lips of ‘Morning is pressed the golden grape, the sun, and men drink drunk through the hours until Night finds them sleep-sodden and they awake, to listen to another siren singing!» — según el volumen, la pieza Morning, del 8 de septiembre de 1919.

«Yesterday was waiting. Today is waiting, and tomorrow— I shall come upon tomorrow By touching the wicket gate, expectancy,» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema Waiting, del 6 de mayo de 1920; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana, donde sigue con las edades colgadas del gozne de la espera.

«I have never known the night. Darkness might not blot the day. Yea, I have known twilight, That secluded hour which half reveals, Writing hope on every shadow With a silver quill. I am acquainted with this holy tide. But night—never! Night Is darkness, and he who meeteth darkness Knoweth fear. Night is the symbol Of doubt, and I have never learned To list unto her whispering. I know the twilight. Methinks My soul is like to this—a grey nun Who tells her beads confidently, hoping, Watching the casement for the day’s announcement, Listening for some chorister To sing of morning!» — según el volumen, Night, the Stranger, del 28 de junio de 1920, que declara conocer el crepúsculo y no la noche.

«Night hath come, the grey nun Night, Lighting her waxen tapers about The holy altar, the vasty altar Of the sky. The prayerful awe Of silence is upon the field. Not e’en an echo stirs the stillness.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Nun’s Return, del 7 de febrero de 1921, con la noche como monja que enciende cirios.

«Today is, tomorrow may be, yesterday was. Yesterday I have squandered, Today I have spent, Tomorrow—what shall I do with tomorrow? Will I hope, or will I then despair? Tomorrow is a question; will God utter it? In His mute eloquence Will He trust me with another sacred troth?» — según el volumen, Today and Tomorrow, que deja el mañana como pregunta dirigida a Dios.

«O venerable aged Time Whose sickle is the moon; Who reacheth Eternity holding The lamp, the sun. O venerable time, who treads The pathway of Eternity, crushing The universes as pebbles beneath his feet. Nodding anon to thee and me, in passing!» — según el volumen, The Nod, del 3 de mayo de 1920, con el tiempo aplastando universos como guijarros.

«Tomorrow comes, a new, new morrow. Think on it, my beloved. And then another morrow, and morrows and morrows yet to come.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Good Night, del 15 de febrero de 1926; el troceo lo corta en el límite de chunk, donde sigue la pregunta de la comunicante por su propia condición de sombra.

«Patience tell us why should evil be. P. W.: There be naught o’ evil; it abideth not.» — según el volumen, la respuesta del 28 de mayo de 1915 a la pregunta por el mal: se le niega existencia.

«Thou didst see not with thine eyes o’ flesh afore thy coming. Aye, but at thy bearing, thy mother oped up thine eyes and thee didst see and behold o’ the Earth. Aye, now list thee, Death then, is thy mother, for hark at her bearing thou shalt shut up thy eyes o’ flesh and see o’ the Land o’ Here.» — según el volumen, la doctrina de la muerte como segundo nacimiento, dictada el 20 de septiembre de 1915.

«Can anything come except by experience? P. W.: Yea, and thou knowest much o’ such.» — Mr. Reedy plantea el principio empirista y la respuesta que el volumen registra lo niega de plano; el troceo imprime *Reepy*.

«Alawk! Thy heart is packed afull o’ Him, brother. Aye, and thou knowest. Then speak so, and say ’tis well, for sure as sun shall rise, thy dust shall rise and blow unto new fields of new days. Thou hast walled up thy heart o’ words and yet it showeth athrough the patches o’ thy words.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta de cómo puede un hombre conocer a Dios.

«I bring ye not a new water o’ a new well, nay, nay, I bring but cooling drop o’ the water Earth hath held for time and time.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la objeción de Reedy de que las respuestas no son nuevas: se reclama antigüedad, no novedad.

«Much word o’ prayer be but words, and He doth list not unto word. Nay, he knoweth e’en the mite whose wings-whirr be all o’ its voice.» — según el volumen, la respuesta sobre si Dios suspende sus leyes ante la plegaria.

«Nae wall holdeth Him. Look thee. Thee and thee seek the byways and yet the hedges and paths ahere and yon unto the seek o’ Him. This be earth’s path, and this ahere, the walless land.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta por su filiación eclesiástica: la tierra tiene caminos y la otra no tiene muros.

«What be days and nights but filmed folds that veil the Here from the There?» — según el volumen, la doctrina del 7 de junio de 1916 sobre los días y las noches como velo entre el Aquí y el Allá.

«Even so, the in-man unto Earth be blind, that the fleshed eye tell unto his blind o’ the day. Yea, and fleshed eye be ablind unto the in-eye’s see, that the in-eye shalt tell the day ahid, unto its see. Man walketh but ’pon the feet o’ him and ne’er steppeth ’pon hands and feet. Yea, he needeth not o’ the both. So, what hath the in-man need that he look *pon Earth? For behold, he be fashioned for to see - o’ naughts like unto the stars streaming, that be not, yet be!» — según el volumen, la doctrina del hombre interior: ciego a la tierra como el ojo de carne lo es a lo suyo, y hecho para ver lo que no es y sin embargo es.

«Mr. Reedy quoted: “ Oh, God, I have lost Thee through my earnest efforts to find Thee.” Patience answered as though with the same breath: “ Yea, I have walked with Thy shadow knowin’ Thee not!» — el volumen registra la cita que Reedy trae y la respuesta inmediata, que la invierte.

«Thine eyes have looked upon His wonders and known them; then thou knowest that no thing is without Him. Yea, thou knowest, thou knowest, for thou hast seen thy very faith take wings and fly unto bright lights wherein thou didst lose its small winged form and thou didst wait and behold, it came back unto thee, unhurt, unafraid, whole, speeding safe unto thee, for with thy faith that thou didst send forth, thou didst send thy love, its fender!» — según el volumen, la respuesta a Mr. M., que había hablado de dejar el ministerio.

«Ah, make me less that I become more Thee. Make me not humble, but meek. Make my meekness nay an weakness But an armor. Cloak my frailness o’ Thy love. Thereby shall all that I do lack me Be made whole and full filled» — según el volumen, el arranque de A Prayer and a Wish, del 19 de abril de 1917, que pide mansedumbre y no debilidad.

«List, I set the wishin’. That thy hearts ope unto the shadows e’en so gladsome as unto the light. That thy steps follow the roughs e’en so gladly as the smooths. That thou shalt ne’er forget the shadow o’ the cross that falleth through the ages, ne’er by any sun wiped awhither, save by love’s.» — según el volumen, la segunda mitad de esa pieza, ya en el registro cerrado, con la sombra de la cruz que solo el amor borra.

«Wrest out the earth, oh men! Twist her flesh till the blood floweth! Make her give forth! Strip her! Pilfer, pilfer, slay, slay! Wrest out earth, oh men, stopping not That ye watch the shadows creep Nor know the moon’s rising Nor yet the sun’s farewell. Drink not The soul of earth, but eat her flesh! Wrest out earth, oh men! And forget the shrunken thing That shivereth, naked, beside thee, Standing aching with the gnaw of emptiness, Thy soul!» — según el volumen, Wrest Out the Earth, del 27 de octubre de 1917: la exhortación al saqueo dicha en imperativo y vuelta contra quien la oye.

«I believe in the all-merciful God, and in His Son as a Sign of His Mercy. I believe in His creation as His utterance. I believe in His heaven as I believe in His creation. I believe in men, for they utter Him. I believe in man’s failures as God’s attainments. I believe in the magnitude of His tongue and its power to utter the infinite. I believe in the resurrection of life, for its manifold symbols are before me. I believe in the life everlasting, for no culmination which man might utter might contain my belief in God. Amen.» — según el volumen, el Credo del 2 de septiembre de 1918, que incluye entre sus artículos los fracasos del hombre como logros de Dios.

«Oh ye mighty walls and towering spires astride the cowléd gabled ways! Thy emblazoned scripts depicting fanciful reaction of ancient times ; Smoking altars upon which yellow candles flare, burning the sacred air, To send aloft a pungent scent of mouldering decay,» — según el volumen, el arranque de Gloria, del 27 de diciembre de 1918, con la crítica al templo de piedra; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«For this did saints ope up their veins? Did martyrs writhe? And did holy writs By their tedious array enslave the humble sanctity of men? Or did men, to do their will, write with unalterable tracery Law, that ran new within the fluid pressed in fervid troth to God? While blood in lapping waves washed thy very doors, did Mary stand Dumb, hearkening to some litany mumbled in a limpéd tongue, And priest send incense up, or light a taper in thy pit-like dark?» — según el volumen, las preguntas con que la misma pieza objeta la ley escrita y el rito.

«He, the High-priest, lights the taper Day, each morning with the sun, And incense flings across the valley way in silver mists; Filling the night with litanies, lighting each star in memory of some holy soul, Defying mould and ravages of time, the festival of worm upon the festering flesh.» — según el volumen, el contramodelo que la pieza propone: la liturgia natural frente a la del templo.

«Golgotha! Around that holy spot, There clings, to me, holy recollections. Yet the dark earth with its tedious paths Wipes that sweet memory away. Nothing in the day speaks of that sacrifice. Men are a thankless lot, and the day is overfretful Lest it give an instant to contemplation. There is nothing in the coming of tomorrow Which shall remind me of Him Nor His crown nor His agony. The day will be a shallow bowl, and men Shall cast the tinkling little coins Of wisdom against the metal, where they will whir for an instant, Then sink unto the bottom, mute, dross. There is nothing in tonight which may remind me Of that holy instant when the moon rose o’er the Place of Skulls And laid her soothing hands upon His bruised brow. Tonight is a mummer’s show, a little pantomime In which all men play, perpetrating a jest upon life. There is nothing in today which may speak Intimately and with conviction of that third day When they sought the Tomb and found Him not; For today is just such an empty sepulchre, There is nothing, nothing to remind me.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Golgotha, del 24 de noviembre de 1919, que niega una a una las señales del día.

«He shall not come from the clouds, nor shall I ask that I lay my fingers in His wound. Yet, God, I have felt His agony, and the day, Despite its emptiness, is pregnant of His resurrection. There is nothing in today, tonight Nor tomorrow but Him. Man is before Him. Man is upon Him. Man is with Him. And the hour of His announcement is at hand!» — según el volumen, el giro final del mismo poema: negado todo signo externo, se afirma la presencia.

«Lo, have I beheld the page of the Holy Word Like unto confusion before me. I have heard the tongues of men prate wisely, intricately Of His simplicity. The day became a babble and I, wroth with an agony of unrest, Born of the chaos.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Word of God, del 29 de marzo de 1920, con la disputa doctrinal descrita como confusión.

«At a certain morning I arose, hearing a faint song, A fitful melody; And I sought, and behold! I found the Holy Word Spread upon the fields, And that each day unfolded a new lesson before me.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: la palabra se halla tendida sobre los campos, no en la página.

«When the east is pale And the young Morning wan-cheeked from night’s wooing, And the west still holds a guardian star, Or mayhap the moon hath forgot and tarried ; When the paths are dank of dew And the grasses cling a-matted, Sheltering the buds of the foot-cloth blossomry ; In such an hour it seems, beloved Lord, that I Am a little nearer Thee.» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Long Fellowship, del 3 de mayo de 1920, con las tres edades del día como tres modos de conocer a Dios.

«I am prostrate, for my Fellow Hath been sacrificed and hath left me naught But His royal robe of scarlet. And I, in an agony of pride at mine inheritance, Uplift mine eyes, beholding the jewels Of the Kingdom teemed across the sky! O, then I know Thee, Lord!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la herencia del manto escarlata.

«I believe in the power of His hand. I believe in the strength of His will. I believe in the tenderness of His mercy. I believe in the mercy of His wrath.» — según el volumen, My Creed, del 6 de diciembre de 1920: cuatro artículos, el último de ellos una paradoja.

«Oh woe is me! How man intrudes! Creeds become lances, sharp-tipped Which they hurl. Yea, woe is me! How man intrudes! Argument Is the din and he who argues best Hath a nimble tongue and an empty skull’s cap! Ah, woe is me! How long Shall I list in toleration? How men intrude! Were it not For a grain o’ wit and the salt of laughter Egad, the stuff would sick me!» — según el volumen, Man’s Intrusion, del 3 de enero de 1921, contra los credos vueltos lanzas y la disputa por la disputa.

«Messrs. Nicholson and Duncker, present, admitted that they had been arguing about creeds.» — nota del volumen que ancla el poema en lo que ocurría en la sala: dos de los presentes discutían sobre credos.

«Flights of fancy weave gaudy colored raiment for wisdom; We weave nets in which to catch the clouds, seining the day and catching no new thing. We sing weirdly new songs of old, old incidents; We toss pebbles of understanding unto the mighty sea of wisdom, And thirstily lean o’er to catch the plash upon our lips: We are arid wastes, in which springs that herbage which is watered with understanding, And few are graced with overblooming.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Man’s Wisdom, del 11 de abril de 1921.

«He who lets faith take the place of understanding Is an honest fool, and his understanding shall grow. But that lout who keeps his faith as pocket pence And declares his understanding, is a lout in rags.» — según el volumen, la distinción entre el necio honesto y el necio harapiento, dentro del mismo poema.

«What is faith? Faith is the conviction inheritant from God of His being. What is piety? Piety is an unegoed serenity.» — según el volumen, las dos definiciones que el poema da en forma de pregunta y respuesta.

«Who would pray, let him then Make his prayer the sheathe of the sword, And not the word.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Prayer, del 31 de octubre de 1921, que hace de la plegaria continente y no contenido.

«Prayer is the vessel of God To contain its dealing. It is not A cajoling power.» — según el volumen, la negativa central de esa pieza: la plegaria no doblega a Dios.

«Prayer is a declaration of life, Not an acclamation of death. Prayer is joy, not sorrow. It is The blood of laughter, not of tears. Prayer is the raiment of sorrow; It is the pillow of joy. It is The pedestal of exultation. It is The intoxication of consciousness of the kinship, Else it is not prayer.» — según el volumen, el cierre de la misma pieza, con la plegaria puesta del lado de la alegría y no del duelo.

«Should I lay down the staff of faith Then doth my voyage become heavy-footed,» — según el volumen, el arranque de My Staff of Faith, del 14 de noviembre de 1921; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Asked what Church she preferred, Patience Worth said: The wide-flung sky, the free-flung fields, The flower bedecked altars—they, Aye, and the holy wine of my communion Runs in the brooklet, is caught in the sea, Is a part of the elements and of God. The foundation of it is simple— It lies in the one word TRUTH. It is all powerful and all abiding, The tabernacle in which my soul exults.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a qué iglesia prefiere: cielo y campo por templo y la verdad por único cimiento.

«If I were to pray a prayer devout upon my bended knee, With timorous eyes uplifted, a suppliant prayer Unto this God of thine and mine, my trembling lips would say: “ Oh Father, keep us at Thy knee.” And further would I pray That bending He would whisper: “ Child, child, child.”» — según el volumen, My Prayer, del 6 de septiembre de 1923.

«Who asks the way to Calvary? No man who knows his brother. Each morrow’s sun betips some cross Within the early dawn, or lays its scarlet kiss *Pon one at its departure.» — según el volumen, la sentencia del 26 de abril de 1924, que sitúa el Calvario en cada día y en cada hermano.

«Hush, Night! The sable curtain of Eternity Hath fallen upon thee. Be still in awe! In the pitchy dark The little stars shall venture forth All unafraid, and the familiar moon Shall stalk across thy breast.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Hush, Night!, de fines de agosto de 1924; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Gently, Oh Lord, I awaken to Thy wisdom, Reaching each day with a certain joy. Sorrow hath been mine—but a gentle sorrow; And tomorrow seems like a cup, inviting, From which I’d sip a sweet and luscious wine. Gently, Oh Lord, I live each day; Simplicity, Tranquillity, and Peace are enviable. What are mountains of learning’ To the Valley of Wisdom? What are mountains of hope To a step of Faith? See, Lord, I am learning.» — según el volumen, el poema del 12 de mayo de 1925, que opone montañas de saber a valle de sabiduría.

«Oh, you star that hung o’er Bethlehem; Mayhap plucked, from the very arch Of Heaven’s Gate! You star, foretelling peace, Shedding radiance, Proclaiming a Babe-new-born! Where in the firmament art thou?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 14 de diciembre de 1925 sobre la estrella de Belén; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Thou art but God, and I, ah I, am man. What hath Thy day that Thou mayest claim it Thine? For doth man not live the day? Thou art but God, and I, ah I, am man. What hath virtue that Thou mayest say ’tis Thine? For doth not man destroy this thing? Thou art but God, and I, ah I, am man. What hath Earth of Thee that Thou mayest say ’tis Thine? For doth not man fill up the Earth And girdle it about; then be it Thine?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 4 de septiembre de 1915, que le disputa a Dios la propiedad del día, la virtud y la tierra; el primer verso se repite seis veces.

«Yea, yea, for in Thy pity Thou dost drown man’s presumption here. For Thou art God, and Man, ah Man, But Man.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde la disputa se retira y queda la desproporción.

«Oh, He is the gentleness that spreadeth the Spring, And casteth, out His bounty, fresh blooms that burst the sod In resurrection. He is the gentleness That spreadeth the moon’s illumined silver o’er the valleys, And curtaineth the mountain peaks of mists. He is the gentleness that leaveth the young winds Roving ’bout the sweet steeped fields, That wooeth the grass blades to a trembling. He is the gentleness that setteth up the hum-m-m o’ the sea; The crooning lullaby o’ the waves. He is the gentleness that sweepeth the webs of morning Glistening of dews. He is the gentleness, yet He, in His strength, Hath poured the universe across His ever-space!» — según el volumen, He Is the Gentleness, del 23 de abril de 1917.

«O my love, is thy day dark? Behold then, He is the sun. Is thy day over bright? Then behold, He is the shadow. Look unto the sky, the face of God, The secret of the universe is there writ. Read! Remember thee, remember, the folly of over much wisdom; Remember, even wisdom is outdone by love.» — según el volumen, el poema del 24 de septiembre de 1917, que pone el amor por encima del saber.

«Oh, I would play a chord that would set the heavens rocking! Aye, the rivers should be my strings strung upon the earth, and the stars my notes. Oh, I would make a gladsome noise! In the morning, betimes, waking the fields to new life, Waking the mountains to echoes to resound the skies! Oh, I would build me a trumpet of gold, and the sun should be its cup, And one of it would I fashion out of the moon’s glistening robe! I would fill them then of stars and blow upon them. And behold, the skies should be writ of bright singing, glittering notes spelling the universe, And each tremor of my tone should cry out of Him, of Him, of Him!» — según el volumen, el poema del 13 de octubre de 1917 sobre el instrumento cósmico.

«Lo, I cannot understand my understanding, though thou wouldst have me to, for the thing I know is God. And you may understand Him, because you do not know Him. How may you prate of your knowledge, when He will not be tomorrow what He is today? I know this, and the gift that is mine is my heritage from Him. I acknowledge that I even may not understand Him; For to understand Him would be to know all things, And Heaven would be thwarted ; There would be no expectancy!» — según el volumen, How May We Understand Him?, del 27 de junio de 1918: comprender a Dios anularía la expectación, y por eso se declara imposible.

«Prate me no word of God, you men of little tongue And throat which may be stopped by an atom of dust!» — según el volumen, el arranque de The God I Worship, del 5 de junio de 1919; el troceo lo corta en el límite de chunk, donde el poema sigue reivindicando la risa de Dios.

«Never a siren sang with more desire to tempt than I For I am a lurer of men; I am a temptress. Behold, I make my songs like loving arms and scarlet lips, Warm of that ecstacy which is the wine of love. Yea, I sing as a siren upon the shore of eternity. Tempting men to forget the day and to know HIM.» — según el volumen, I Am a Tempter, del 27 de julio de 1919, donde la propia comunicante se declara tentadora, con el pronombre en versalitas tal como el volumen lo imprime.

«Yet I would speak intimately with Him In a small voice. I would not say Great God.» — según el volumen, el giro de This Is the God I Know, del 2 de diciembre de 1919: tras la enumeración cósmica, la voz pide hablarle en voz baja.

«Confusions, great Formless things with which my hands Toyed like an infant against its mother’s breast, Seeking with my lips to find Sustenance from the breast of confusion!» — según el volumen, la imagen de las confusiones como juguetes; es la frase que Prince compara después con un verso de Poe.

«Yea, I would sit at the hem of His universe And look up unto His pit-like eyes, Watching time roll about within their cups, While my babe lips whisper “ Sire! ”» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con la voz reducida a labios de niño.

«If I were with one word to swing HIM, that word would shatter into less than the atoms of the mists that cling the mountain tops. If I should speak HIM in a song, the song would slay me! And going forth, man would become deaf when he listed. If I should announce HIM with a quill and fluid, lo, the script would be nothing less than Eternity to hold the word I would write.» — según el volumen, la respuesta del 18 de diciembre de 1919 a la pregunta por qué es Dios: cada modo de decirlo se declara imposible.

«And the hem of His garment lay Upon the rim of the earth, within The grasp of man, yet he seeth it not. He may kneel upon it, and hide his face Within it; he may bind up his wounds Of its substance; he may lie him down And sleep upon its folds ; Yet he seeth it not!» — según el volumen, And Ye Would Not!, del 15 de enero de 1920.

«When the barley leans either East or West Or sways to the North or South, Methinks ’tis the cheek of God pressed On the field. When the trees wallow Tossing their green in shadeful confusion Methinks ’tis the Great God letting his fingers Caress them. When the sea’s breast Becometh waved of little white rimmed waves, Lopping, lispingly lopping, methinks He is kissing the great bosom, myriad Upon myriad of kisses letting fall.» — según el volumen, el arranque de When the Barley Leans, del 16 de febrero de 1920, que lee los fenómenos del campo como gestos de Dios.

«There is nothing in all the preachments Of man which either stimulates Or confounds me. I have known, Since first my soul beheld that great, Stately beyond of which I was a part— I have known, I say, that God is.» — según el volumen, el arranque de I Know That God Is, del 1 de marzo de 1920, que descarta la predicación como fuente.

«He is manifest to me, not In miracles, but in the trailing of smoke Low o’er a field, touching the flower tops;» — según el volumen, la fórmula central del mismo poema: la manifestación se pone del lado de lo corriente y no del milagro.

«Who then would announce to me The wonder of his God, shall stop. I need not man’s nays or yeas. There is Within me a wick that burns steadfastly.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que declina la enseñanza ajena sobre Dios.

«If Thou shouldst demand, O Great God, why I love Thee, how might I answer? I might say: “ This morning I saw the wheat tickling the sunshine; Yea, I saw a lark marking the heavens, grotesquely playing a jest with his song.” I might say that I saw a star shoot, leaving a little radiance streaking, As though in an endeavor to write me a little whimsey message. I might say, yea, I might say that I love Thee—what for?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 8 de marzo de 1920, construido como respuesta hipotética.

«Nay, methinks I’d rather Say I love Thee for the little swishing willow tassels whipping at the waters fitfully. I like to think of this— That Thou art then a youth, playing so.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: prefiere amar a Dios por lo menudo antes que por su fuerza, y lo figura como muchacho jugando.

«Oh, the mystery of God, the great, unsolvable mystery! He, the servant of all creation, humbly serving, never paid!» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Mystery of God, del 9 de agosto de 1920, con Dios descrito como sirviente no pagado de la creación.

«He eludes; hiding in hope, in expectancy, in doubt, In all things which I may not attain, Flitting, hither, thither yon as a moth, Delicately tenuous. Yet so awesome atimes that I Seem standing upon the brink of nothing, With an accusing finger pointed which commands me “ Plunge! ”» — según el volumen, la parte del mismo poema donde Dios se esconde en lo que no se alcanza y ordena el salto.

«I have unlocked the mystery, no longer am I awed. I have stood before the everlasting fount, Yea, the river of life. I have beheld God interflowing, The instants, permeating with surety The dull atom of existence.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 25 de julio de 1921, que declara resuelto el misterio que el poema anterior daba por insoluble; las dos afirmaciones quedan como están.

«He is of a living substance as the lightning, Verily, the illuminant pith of all life. He is the elemental basis of creation, His own being becoming the foundation of creation.» — según el volumen, la formulación más doctrinal del conjunto: Dios como sustancia viva y base elemental de la creación.

«He stands with His head in the sun, Yet He reclines within the palm of a babe. His couch is the rainbow, yet He hath laid His cheek unto man’s bruised lips. His voice is the roar of chaos Yet He sits as a fay at the gateway Of man’s lips, beguiling him.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con las parejas de extremos que definen al mismo Dios.

«Who is this God remote? JI know Him not. Who is He who within the sanctuary of the ever-space Retreats, forgetting the creation which He flung In an instant of joy, mayhap, spinning the ether?» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Remote God, del 6 de marzo de 1922; el troceo salta de la plana 176 a la 178 y el resto del poema falta.

«TI tell thee Heaven be all, and doth to clothe o’er all. °*Tis true, it abideth e’en ’pon Earth. O?” all and all it be, and Earth doth dwell awrapped e’en o’ it.”» — según el volumen, la doctrina del cielo como envoltura de la tierra; el troceo abre con *TI* donde el impreso lleva la comilla y la I.

«Each man enjoyeth his Heaven—TI say his Heaven —for the thing he enjoyeth in that same Heaven shall not be thine.» — según el volumen, el cielo se declara distinto para cada quien; la afirmación va contra cualquier descripción única del más allá.

«Asked if there is an intermediate state, she said: “ This be a busied land, and be thy building not afinished, thou shalt finish it afore thy setting unto His task. Yea, thou mayest build within this land, for building defileth not Him. He be the first builder.» — según el volumen, la respuesta sobre el estado intermedio: se admite construcción después de la muerte y se la declara no profanadora.

«Asked if we recognize our friends there, she retorted: “ Ah me, what a fogged land thou thinkest! He is a sire, not a monster.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a si se reconoce a los amigos en el más allá, dada como reproche a la pregunta.

«Shall I arise and know thee, brother, when like a bubble I Am blown into eternity from this pipe of clay? Or shall I burst and float these atoms in a joyous spray At the beholding of this home prepared for me and thee? And shall we together mingle our joys in one supreme joy in Him? It matters not, beloved, so comfort thee, For should the blowing be the end, what then! Hast not thy pack been full, and mine? We are weary of the work of living And sinking into oblivion would be rest. But sure as sun shall rise my dust shall be unloosed, And blown into new fields of new days. I see full fields yet to be harvested, and I am weary; I see fresh business of living, work yet to be done, and I am weary. Oh, let me fold these tired hands and sleep. Beloved, I trust, and expect my trust, for ne’er yet did He fail.» — según el volumen, el poema del 16 de octubre de 1914, que admite la aniquilación como salida aceptable y aun así declara confianza.

«Though eyes be hid, what care ye? Though hand be not, what care ye? Though love hath stepped from Earth What think ye love shalt lose? Heart that stoppeth beating ne’er astoppeth love!» — según el volumen, la sentencia del verano de 1915 sobre la permanencia del amor tras la muerte.

«Fearing, fearing, heart! look not with fearing *pon thy day! Nay, look then unto the works o’ Him that shew thee o’ the way.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Fearing Heart, del 17 de marzo de 1916; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana, donde sigue el argumento de la niebla que se deshace y vuelve como lluvia.

«Oh star of the eve, hang, hang low, That I may see thy face. Leave not the clouds To sweep thee from my straining eyes. Oh, leave me thy beam; for the sun hath forgot, The moon tarrieth, the day is dead, And the night not yet come. I am lone and it is dark. Oh star of the eve, hang low, low. I’d whisper thee the dead hopes That flee the earth like bat-winged things Darksome sweeping the silver sky. I’d whisper thee of these. Oh, list, And shed thy light, for the moon hath tarried And the sun forgot. Death hath sought the valley And hath reaped its blooms. He hath sought The high spots and plucked a harvest there And lo, the morrow sheweth a hoarfrost Like death-dew o’er his stepping places.» — según el volumen, The Sun of a New Day, del 9 de enero de 1917.

«A message asked for a bereaved person in Kansas. At once Patience gave “Oh, that ye knew the caravan unto Here moveth surely, and though thine eyes may not see where it hath gone past the eye’s span, still surely it moveth on.» — el volumen consigna el encargo —un mensaje para una persona en duelo en Kansas— y la respuesta inmediata, con la caravana como figura del tránsito.

«Oh, that ye knew thy tears be naught but the cloud that dimmeth thine eyes unto the watching, aye, and waiting. “Oh, that ye knew that ye should cast ye free o’ tears. Would ye offer unto smiling, sorrow? Would ye mete a joyin’, weepin’? Would ye weep at losin’ what hath only become truly thine through Him? “Oh, that ye knew His breast is thine. Rest thee upon it and smile, smile thy waiting. Ah, the joy o’ soothin’.”» — según el volumen, el resto de ese mensaje de consuelo, que pide dejar el llanto por espera sonriente.

«Oh man, what spotless Heaven would’st thou create? Milkwhite in sanctity, no stuff but that it gleams in colorlessness, With pearled gates and alabaster shadows, rimmed with white walls, cloud-tipped of whiter silver and lucid gems of water pureness ; The paths enshrouded in a snow of blooms, And the silver streets lined of fleece clad angels whose white wings enfold their whiter form, and whose whiter souls abide this white, white land. Ah, what a heaven thou createst! And I pray you, wherein thou?» — según el volumen, A White Heaven, del 6 de mayo de 1918: la objeción al cielo convencional termina preguntando dónde cabría el que lo imagina.

«Might I build a Heaven I'd make the day contain the early dawn’s first breath and the eve’s first shadows That it be neither o’er bright nor o’er shadowed. I’d make the land to roll in gentle rises wherein valleys lie, and the peaks be not over-far. And the roadway that I’d set me there would be a circle winding about the hillocks and the vales, Where at each turn a changeful shade of some sweet memory would greet me. I’d make me such a land, so full of recollections, that like trooping throngs of happy babes they’d sport the fields, And then I’d take a golden trumpet and stand upon its portals And cry, O Brother, come.» — según el volumen, My Heaven, del mismo día, que opone al cielo blanco un paisaje de medias luces y memorias.

«Mine ain, take heart, there be nay night. E’en though the eye doth see the dark. Mine ain, take heart, for love be fettered, And soul enchained unto its love. Flesh hath no power ’gainst this!» — según el volumen, el arranque de Smile and Wait, dirigido a Mrs. McK., viuda reciente; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Mrs. Curran told us that while she was writing this poem she could see Mr. McK. just as though he were in the room and that he was laughing.» — el registro consigna una experiencia visual de la médium simultánea a la dictación, que Prince imprime sin comentarla aquí.

«They troop as young maidens Or angels white-robed From the gateway of heaven unloosed, Laughing, expectant as youth— Days! Among them is one who shall come Unto my side and beckon Leading me forth unto the gateway and pointing. Oh, with what joy I await her! God-sent messenger! How shall I greet her? Weeping? Nay, I shall smile, And lay my hands within hers, And say: “ Hasten, Sister, hasten.”» — según el volumen, To the Day, del 2 de agosto de 1919, donde el día de la propia muerte se saluda como hermana.

«Who would become a child If heaven were a rebirth to infancy? What then the game? To become A child again with no heritage Of memory? Then life is vain.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *reincarnation*, del 3 de enero de 1920: se la objeta por la pérdida de memoria, no por su imposibilidad.

«Behold, the valley’s swag’ and the mist And the path secluded, and thee and me seeking. Oh mine ain, lip to lip, hand to hand, Fear unto fear, confidence unto confidence, Hope unto hope, thee and me upon the path Secluded. Somewhere, hanging beyond the mists Is a golden sun. Somewhere. Somewhere.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Thee and Me, del 21 de marzo de 1920; una nota del volumen glosa *swag* como verbo obsoleto usado aquí como sustantivo.

«Why shouldst thou mourn, beloved, If I depart these shuttling days? In yesterdays I still abide with thee, And hastening but a little way beyond Upon the trending path, think, beloved, Think of that newer meeting which ne’er Doth lose its first sweet ecstasy. Why shouldst thou mourn, beloved, should I, Having drunk, then lay the chalice down?» — según el volumen, There Shall Be No Sorrow, del 12 de julio de 1920.

«I think I see A silver river stretching far Between most verdant banks Toward an open sea. I think I see A fretful river making onward Laying its lips to the silver sands, Plunging to the sea depth In a gushing joy!» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Silver River, del 18 de septiembre de 1920.

«Oh, such am I! Beyond is the golden sea, The ever changeful sea The all-encompassing sea, That mother breast on which The crafts of men forever sail, Eternity ! And I the fretful river And the day the verdant banks. I may not stay. I may not Listen to the singing Nor the sounds of creation. I am urged, urged seaward. Oh, my heart hath burst its portals And pours as a silver fluid Through the hours, and is the murmur Of the waters. Yea, I am The river slipping seaward.» — según el volumen, el desarrollo del mismo poema, con la identificación entre la voz, el río y el mar de la eternidad.

«Who art thou, who toucheth o’ the flesh o’ me, And sendeth chill unto the heart o’ me? Aye, and who art thou, who putteth forth thy hand And setteth at alow the hopes o’ me? Who art thou, who art thou, who steppeth ever to my day, And shutteth o’ the sun away? Who art thou, who steppeth to earth at birth o’ me, And e’en ’mid wail o’ weak, aye, at the birth o’ wail, Did set a chill ’pon infant flesh; and at the track o’ man *Pon earth doth follow ever, and at height Afollow, and doth touch, and all doth crumble to a naught?» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema Death, en el registro cerrado, dirigido a la muerte como interlocutor.

«Aye, thou art the gift o’ Him! The Key to There! The Love o’ Earth! Aye, and hate hath made o’ man to know thee not— Thou! Thou! O Death!» — según el volumen, el giro final del mismo poema, donde la muerte pasa de amenaza a don; Prince remite en nota a las dos ediciones donde está completo.

«Ah, Peaceful Vale, wherein my soul may be my soul, and call not as the night-bird to his mate, who but reechoes his song; Nay, as cold stars warm the heavens to light, so must coldly-culled truth warm my soul, and I shall show myself myself— Not as a feigned or painted thing, nor yet the gently-smiling oily thing, I would crave the world to believe.» — según el volumen, el arranque de One Grain of Hero Dust, del 15 de febrero de 1914.

«Stay, dost know that through the ages, yea, through the very ages, One grain of Hero dust, blown from afar, Hath lodged, and moveth thee?» — según el volumen, la imagen que da título al poema: un grano de polvo de héroe alojado en quien lo ignora.

«A day shall dawn when I shall be not, and when the busy world wags on; Not a pebble cast by me, nor yet work may I claim.» — según el volumen, el arranque de A Day Shall Dawn, del 20 de mayo de 1914; el troceo lo corta en el límite de chunk.

«There wert a man, and he sat him ’pon the towns-way. And he did to ride *pon an ass and lo, at the up o’ the wether hill, the ass did stand him ’pon his feet and travel not. And the man did off him, and prod the ass ’pon the rump, and speak unto his ear, and strike him blow *pon sides, and lo, the ass moved not. And this man wert the wise one o’ the towns-people. Yea, he did to deal o’ word and sum unto the babes o’ the town. And he did to make word o’ much mouthing unto the ass, and lo, he knew not o’ such word. And lo, the man did wax wrathed, and lo, did the ass to wax it wrather and did stand it firmed *pon the feet o’ it, and lo, the tail o’ it did sink tight unto his hind. And the face o’ the town’s wiseun did red it much, and he did fall o’ words o’? much o’ mouthing till he wert wearied sore. And lo, from *pon the path ahigh did there to come a lad o’ young years, and he came unto the man and looked ’pon his wrath and ’pon the wrath 0’ the ass. And he knew not o’ such an wrath as the man did shew, but did to know the ass. And he did to pipe atween his lips and stroke *pon the nose o’ the ass and it did off. “ There ’tis, ’tis word that meaneth little! Yea, athin the hand 0’ the babe there be the undoing o’ word.”» — según el volumen, la Parable of the Ass, del 20 de octubre de 1915: el sabio del pueblo fracasa con palabras donde un muchacho acierta con un silbido.

«Hush! Hush! Let the hush fall unto the far corners of the Earth! Stop the dinning! Stop the motley laughter, Aye, and garish musics where dead spirits play in living flesh! Stop the streaming wry-words, stop the tongue of prophecy! Leave but truth upon it. Let the hush of all things be! Stop! Stop! Stop the wheeling, teaming, speeding, clattering, rumbling, Racking, torturing din, with the Great Hush which is Truth!» — según el volumen, Be Still and List to Truth, del 3 de mayo de 1917, que identifica la verdad con el silencio.

«Oh, I have watched Thy mysteries, and I smile at their simplicity. Oh, I have watched how they writ heaven within me with a sureness that can never fail. I ager first what lay behind a smile, and the sign which was the flash of love. I learned the tone of love’s voice from her who bore me, And later life’s harp struck a fuller tone that, tremorous, sang a deeper note. I learned the bitterness of sorrow, and that the cup of sorrow’s wine was borne by one who wore a cap and bells. I learned with wickedness to consort, and found the phantom thinner than morning’s mist. Oh, all of this I know now; behold, my flesh was a script which took unto it all of this irrevocably. Lo, the letters are set now, for the writing of His hand.» — según el volumen, The Mysteries, del 6 de mayo de 1918, donde la carne se declara escritura ya preparada.

«Ah, Wisdom, where is thy tongue: thy tongues are every busy! O fools, where is thy king? I would grasp his hand For he knoweth not the shortcomings of Wisdom. I seek the voices of ages past, the voices that unravelled truth To skeins of folly. Aye, I am waiting for a new tongue, that speaks Words small enough to swallow.» — según el volumen, el poema del 7 de junio de 1918, que pide una lengua nueva con palabras bastante pequeñas para tragarlas.

«I watched the monster cloud arise And the lightenings interplay them, Listening to the ominous rolling Of the tongue that foretold their wrath. I watched the sea climb the headland Lashing the sky in seeming hunger For the height. I watched the winds Bend the forest before them Snapping the age-old staffs With quick movement, making havoc. I was awed at the mightiness of this When I saw a gnat, speeding upon the airs Unmindful, and my awe was overcome.» — según el volumen, Reassurance, del 17 de junio de 1918: la tormenta desarmada por un mosquito indiferente.

«While sages scribed with wisdom-heavy quills, great scripts of ponderous meaning, bestirring them to utterance; Their tongues, that lapped the brine of earth’s learning, speaking with elaborate word small wisdoms, And with foolish hands tracing as naught the thing that wert the pith; While with their labor they labored; Lo, there had been woven a cup-like nest that swung upon a hair, and three green eggs had been deposited, And beneath, the joyous crocuses had sprung, and violets peeped in timid manner. And the buds were bursting, and a rainbow spread the sky,— Ah me! Their scripts held none of these, nor checked the labor that created them.» — según el volumen, While Sages Scribed, del 1 de julio de 1918: mientras se escribe sobre sabiduría, la primavera ocurre sin que los escritos la registren.

«Show me thy philosophy. What hath it created? A sling, that thou mightest cast a stone of wisdom and fell a thing that thou mightest lay hands upon it? Doth it stand upon its foundation in an unalterable attitude, unmindful of the winds of argument, Knowing not the tickle of man’s wits, and stonily staring forth, smugly complacent in its own knowledge? Bring thy philosophy forth! I shall wring it by the hand; I would know it. Doth it limp, I then would lend it the hand of love; Is it blind, I then would lead it; Is it in labor, I then would look upon its begetting. Aye, I would look upon the staff it leaneth upon, for if it be a true philosophy, it shall lean upon but one staff, And that is the staff of love.» — según el volumen, Show Me Thy Philosophy, del 11 de julio de 1918, que somete toda filosofía a un solo criterio: el báculo en que se apoya.

«Oh, the mysteries of God Are like a bird, fleeting With wings strong to fend them. Lo, they swirl before thine eyes, Uttering strange songs that enchant, Making music that stirs the soul, Tearing thy heart ope with wonderment And baffling wisdom.» — según el volumen, el arranque de God’s Mysteries, del 24 de octubre de 1918.

«While wisdom standeth upon a high peak Out-reaching her hands in supplication, Even leaping forward to catch the birds Within its hand’s grip— There it is a leaden thing, No longer singing, no longer moving. Wisdom tireth of the toy And casteth it free. And lo, it spreadeth its wings And saileth forward, forward, Straight unto eternity! Lo, the mysteries of God Are like unto a bird.» — según el volumen, el desarrollo del mismo poema: el misterio atrapado se vuelve plomo y solo suelto vuelve a volar.

«Man’s law is precision, God’s is chaotic. Man’s wisdom is offensive to God, therefore He shows his displeasure in complications. To man the complications are chaos, thereby is man deceived. To God, man’s precision is the fretfulness of a babe, aye, and man at his wilful deceiving is undone. Then to God, man is precisively chaotic; to man, God is the disruption of precision.» — según el volumen, la pieza Certain Scientists, del 6 de enero de 1919, que invierte el reparto entre orden y caos.

«I am a beggar; thou knowest me. I ask not for alms, but for one minute. Give me but a stupid smile and I shall proffer Thee in exchange a farthing of wisdom. Thou shalt not pass without a prick of my wit; Nor shalt thou thirst, for I shall give thee freely Of the water of fellowship. Thou mayest not pass me; I shall demand a toll. One minute, friend! But an atom of thy time. Spend it, even unwillingly, and I promise thee Thou shalt profit. If I am a wise man In that time, thou shalt acknowledge it; If I be a fool then shall we laugh together!» — según el volumen, el arranque de Just a Minute, del 21 de abril de 1919.

«Lo, a fool in a garden gazed into a monk’s window Where in solitude he prayed and told the hours and beads. “ Folly, folly!” said the fool, And skipped a measure. Lo, a monk in his seclusion looked forth from his casement Upon a fool who played with grass tassels or a dragon-fly and laughed. “ Folly, folly!” the monk chanted And murmured, “‘ Ave, ave.”» — según el volumen, Twain, del 21 de octubre de 1919: el necio y el monje se llaman necio uno a otro y el poema no arbitra.

«I have striven with eyes which strain To see through the great mystery which opens Like a casement window before me, which man Calls Day. I have striven with eyes strained To understand why men mouth, their wisdom Becoming bulky with overwording; why men Whine, and in their whining become lean Of soul; why the long pageantry passing me, Moves on. What is the urge? If this is the end when yonder sun Doth sink, why doth not man lay down His implements and stop? Why need he Keep covenant with a God who hath Betrayed him, bringing him into existence Which is nothing, not e’en so much as A gnat’s flight across a field?» — según el volumen, el arranque de The Great Mystery, del 21 de noviembre de 1919, con la objeción más dura que la propia voz se plantea.

«Somewhere in that ether, in that great void, There is a God, and in the beckon of His very hand Is the thing which speeds the legs of all existence!» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, que responde a la objeción con una afirmación y no con un argumento.

«Patience Worth was told: “‘ There is much talk of cosmic flow.” P. W.: Nay, they mouth o’er much which be spelled G O D. Asked if “ by all these fine terms ” writers and speakers simply mean God: P. W.: Aye, but they disperse Him, making Him become but a fog upon a morning.» — el volumen registra la respuesta a la moda del *cosmic flow*: los términos nuevos se declaran modos de dispersar la misma palabra.

«A later allusion to cosmic consciousness brought: “ Nay, I nae ha’e driven my swine to such swill.”» — según el volumen, así se rechaza la consciencia cósmica; la fórmula es la más áspera del capítulo.

«To measure man; to see man, this creation of the God I know, play the part allotted him, moving amid the day as though the hours were dense forests; following some marsh-light, some flickering hope with damnable persistence. To know that each man’s lips betray him; to feel in the cloth woven by lengthy argument, the shoddy of its substance; to list unto the blowing of man’s wisdom, throwing forth my net and catching but a few grains of sand, which I am doubtful of, even then!» — según el volumen, el arranque de la pieza del 8 de enero de 1920 sobre medir a los hombres.

«There is less in argument than in silence, for silence ne’er destroys, and argument is a fretful water. To measure men thus, fairly, making myself a part of him, for he who would judge his brother shall become as his brother.» — según el volumen, la regla de juicio que cierra esa pieza: quien juzga a su hermano se vuelve su hermano.

«Ah me, the worn toy; A bauble within the hands of man! Behold, each day is but a tiny house Builded in the sand by the hand Of a babe. Tomorrows come And behold, the waters wipe awhither Yesterday’s building and new hands Take up old sands and older sands, Older shells from the sea’s pit washed, And build anew. And yet tomorrows come and yet, and yet, And new hands play with old sands And older, older shells and learn From the echoes of yesterday, wry wisdoms Which they fit into their wry days, In egotry announcing new understanding Of old truth. Ah me, ah me!» — según el volumen, The New Civilization, del 4 de marzo de 1920: cada generación rehace la misma casa de arena y llama nuevo a lo viejo.

«Man is a trickster. Behold, he findeth the bone of truth And setteth up for to supply flesh with which to resurrect it. Aye, and he announceth it a creed! Show me a man’s creed and I will show you his ain reflection. If he be fat his creed be fat; if he be lean even so. Many a monk whose beads hid beneath his belly’s arch hath prated 0’ spirit. Aye, and the phantom he prated o’ had beads hid aneath its belly’s arch!» — según el volumen, Man, the Trickster, del 15 de marzo de 1920, que hace de todo credo un retrato de quien lo sostiene.

«Oh, all engulfing quietude, The most confiding tongue of God! Naught save the action of His creation Knocks against that mystic wall. Man in his desire to attain Clattereth the symbols of commerce, Yea, maketh of the hours, noiseful tabors Announcing his labor thus to God.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Full Silence, del 7 de junio de 1920.

«Oh, all engulfing silence The storehouse of all that hath been! Unto thee I have commended Mine all, and yet shall commend. Then let me commune with thee apart, Learning to listen to the nothingness Of thy utterance, that I learn to lisp The new wisdoms that await me.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con el silencio como almacén de todo lo sido.

«He is a fool, who hath pronounced Eternity a void, A yawning throat through which the ages slip forever and forever Into nothingness! Lo, is the symbol before thee in the spurting of Spring And the decaying of Fall, and the respurting of Springs; And the coming of stars flung to the silver bowl of night ; And in the sun’s persistence; and in the moon’s faithfulness.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Returning, del 27 de septiembre de 1920, que opone al vacío de la eternidad la evidencia de los ciclos.

«Yet man, who beholds the crumbling of clay, sayeth with assurance: “Tt is finished,” even while the rekindling spirit stirs the mould To new creation. This be the symbol. Man, with his doubt, banishes Him, While he rides with expectant banners tilted earthward, sun-emblazoned banners Star-fringed. Silently He rides in compassion earthward.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: el hombre declara acabado lo que ya está rebrotando.

«Great God, Thy greatest gift is the full knowledge which comes to man—how oft, how oft belated! the knowledge that he be a fool!» — según el volumen, God’s Greatest Gift, del 16 de octubre de 1920: el mayor don es saberse necio, y llega tarde.

«Alike hath man inherited wisdom and folly. Yea, and he liveth his day to learn which be his rightful heritage!» — según el volumen, el cierre de esa pieza, que deja las dos herencias sin decidir.

«Mine is a cunning implement! There is no thing which may Deny me wielding it. Yet I have an o’ercoming awe At the thought that might I strain The sea of my wisdom, even so Might I catch a minnow! Yet in cocksure faith I wield This cunning implement. I deny The convictions of sages. I make argument With God and reorganize His creation Upon a foundation of words. I create a justice for man Out of the stuff I fling forth as wisdom. The implement which is mine is light, O’erlight, I’m fearing, and should I Fling it clear, desiring to decapitate My brother, in an instant lo! am I beheaded! Ah, ’tis a cunning implement A-deed, my tongue!» — según el volumen, My Tongue, del 24 de enero de 1921: la lengua como instrumento que decapita a quien lo blande.

«I cannot contemplate the day, Drinking the honey of the hours, Making myself a fellow with the beauties That unfold. There is a sterner stuff Within me. I behold man as a canvas And the day the colorful play upon it. Essentially it is the thing upon which The colors play, which answers My own inner hunger. It is man, Man in his various and intricate,» — según el volumen, el arranque de Man, del 14 de marzo de 1921; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«I do not think that I may feel God Save through the pulse of man. I exult in his labor, in his sweat, In the power of his intellect.» — según el volumen, la formulación central del mismo poema: no hay acceso a Dios sino por el pulso del hombre.

«Man! God is tongueless without him. Aye, and loveless without him. Aye, and powerless without him. For man is the mirror-pool In which God beholds himself.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, con el hombre como espejo en que Dios se mira.

«There is no such thing as elevated Wisdom; she may be adorned colorfully, but her flesh is the same.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Wisdom, del 11 de abril de 1921, que niega grados de dignidad al saber.

«There is he who sees but the leaf, and mayhap the sun; There is he who seeth the leaf and|mayhap the sun, and knoweth the tongue of the leaf and its shadow; There is he who knoweth the shadow, the tongue, the sunlight and the leaf, and likewise the branch on the tree; And yet there is he who knoweth the root. But knowing all these, they shall forget not the earth, From which spring the root and the tree, and the branch and the leaf and the shadow; Yea, even so, shall they not be confused but remember that the tree sprang from the union of sunlight and earth. And the pith of that mystery hath no part with any of these separately, but as common unto all.» — según el volumen, la escala de conocimientos del mismo poema, que termina poniendo el misterio no en ninguno de los términos sino en lo común a todos.

«I am tolerant of man, aye, tolerant of myself As man, because I am listing unto God In His various tongues. I am seeing The light and shade of His countenance, The joy and sorrow in its birth, for He Being the perfect creation hath joy And sorrow but. by reflection. Think ye on it, God is the implement Within the hands of man in this measure; He is the amalgamating power In which joy and sorrow meet And become a perfect harmony.» — según el volumen, The Merging of Joy and Sorrow, del 28 de abril de 1921, donde Dios es el poder que amalgama los contrarios.

«I am amused at man! He mewls wisdom and drools philosophy, as an infant; His lips drivel cocksurely, loose-knit words, ill garments in which he lets his thoughts disport. Where is his soul? Retreated as a grim monk within a cell, waiting a single ray from the sun. I am amused at man! It is a great game to count how many men think what their lips repeat, Or repeat with their lips their thoughts ; For the bigot self stands twixt the thought and utterance, weighing smugly, Lest the beam tip awry, and he who listeth to the prate shall see The utterer naked or in foolscap.» — según el volumen, Amusing Man, del 19 de septiembre de 1921, sobre la distancia entre lo pensado y lo dicho; la exclamación se repite dentro del poema.

«To do this thing, brother mine, needs must define God. Each man be a God himself; pithed with an atom of that one God, his pith is as indefinable as that God himself. He who is uttered partaketh of his kind. His inheritance is of flesh and of spirit. This is the handiwork of man. I say man is pithed of God; inheritant of his kind in flesh; subject to incident; the tool of a certain fate. Man admitteth fate inasmuch as he creates it. His own action is the law of fate. Personality is the atom of God beraimented of incident, but that thing, that unalterable law, that inexplicable something which writes the ye defies man’s understanding. I say to explain this needs must define God. It is as endless as eternity, as indelible as God, as simple as consciousness which is new, and like unto it as receptive.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la petición de definir la personalidad, que la remite a la definición de Dios y la declara por eso indefinible.

«Personality is the root which each man plants in eternity. It is begun and never ended. It is begun in God and this bars man’s understanding of its beginning. Never finished it bars man’s understanding and conception.» — según el volumen, el remate de esa respuesta: la personalidad empieza en Dios y no termina, y por eso escapa por los dos extremos.

«Complication is understandable. ’*Tis but an accumulation of atoms of discord. *Tis simplicity which most men most misunderstand.» — según el volumen, la sentencia del 20 de marzo de 1922 que invierte el reparto entre lo simple y lo complicado.

«And I am a wise man, but who is he Who be beside me? He who weareth A motley and a cockscomb and carryeth A sceptre which is tipped as a folly rod. And I am a wise man. Who then is he Who, when I make wise utterance, Winks and shaketh his folly rod? Who is he who fellows with me, Making one with my path as I make on *Pon the trend of hours? I may not sit and commune with myself Announcing with conviction my own wisdom While the fool winks. And I am a wise man And is this my shadow, this fellow In motley, who weareth a cockscomb and Holdeth a staff tipped as a folly rod?» — según el volumen, Who Is This Beside Me?, del 16 de septiembre de 1923: el sabio descubre que el bufón que lo acompaña puede ser su sombra.

«Dust, dust, dust—the mould of kings, Bits of the Orient, ashes of wise men, The clod from the foot of a fool, Dead roses, withered leaves, crumbling Palaces, man’s hopes and his desires, The tears of ages, the stuff of all mankind. Dust, dust, awaiting the hand of God To intermingle and resurrect. Dust, dust, dust—tomorrow unborn. Dust, dust—yesterday’s ashes.» — según el volumen, el poema del 4 de octubre de 1923 sobre el polvo como materia común de todo.

«I am like a little child beside the wondrous sea, Stretching wide and far with its lips to the sky’s rim. I am like a child about whose feet the young waves play, Young waves born from the bosom of the sea, lisping old wisdom. I am like a child before the wondrous sea— The panting sagging sea, whose great throat holds a lolling tongue so endless speaking. I am like a child who stoops to play with the silver sands, while the sea chants on and the waves lisp, For what is wisdom or its echo to the cool sand? Rather would I forget and play and wonder, keeping as a child, never heeding the wisdom of the sea. Iam loathto learn somber wisdom,» — según el volumen, A Child Beside the Sea, del 30 de enero de 1925, que prefiere el juego a la sabiduría que el mar recita.

«What is the tabernacle of flesh? Naught but the assemblance of atoms, Held together by the essence of God. What is the day, material, The incident, what are these things? Embers through which glows the essence, The pith, the life itself which is infinite. Let man utter the word God And he hath encompassed the entirety of spirit. Yea, he hath split his throat in the utterance.» — según el volumen, The Essence, del 29 de diciembre de 1925, con la carne descrita como átomos sostenidos por la esencia divina.

«He who would measure a sacred stuff Needs offer a sacred measure. He who would know God and His labor, And the secrets of the universe, Must know himself and must judge himself with no mercy. He who would become one with creation Must himself create. He whose hands would lay upon the labor of God Must pray for sympathy and justice.» — según el volumen, la pieza dirigida a J. M. Bird el 26 de febrero de 1926: cuatro condiciones para quien quiera medir lo sagrado, todas dirigidas al que mide.

«So this is the pageantry of labor; these are the vitals of Day. Behold, when they stop the Day is finished. This is Day’s labor, this intricate pattern of laboring; What pattern doth it weave? Oh, some morrow shall I stand beside the Loom with the shuttles empty— All these little crawling puppets of the day, each unwound of its strand of existence; Beholding the Plan, the Pattern God wove!» — según el volumen, el cierre de The Day’s Work, con el telar visto desde el otro lado del tiempo.

«There is a riotous dance with a weird strain floating. Encircled am I with a grewsome arm! Wildly I float with the shroud’s cloth flying And the rattle of Death’s frame close! Oh, his lips are gone and his eyes are hollow, Pits of dark with ne’er a gleam; And his teeth are snagged and his jaws are set And the mould lies green ’pon his bones!» — según el volumen, el arranque de A Dance with Death, del 4 de enero de 1918.

«Twere the curd and whey at the mid-hour’s sup That set me dreamin’ so.» — según el volumen, el último verso del mismo poema desarma el terror atribuyéndolo a la cena; el troceo abre con *T* donde el impreso lleva el apóstrofo.

«Oh, if she would only give us something plain and simple! wailed Dr. W. Patience suggested: “ A puddin’ bag, and a puddin’ within it?” ‘Then after the laugh she wrote this whimsical set of lines in protest to the doctor’s request.» — el volumen registra el encargo del Dr. W. y la respuesta burlona, y anota que el poema que sigue es la protesta.

«Oh, I sat upon a silken couch And strummed a silver lute, And sang a lay Which made the day Seem grey and melancholy. I sat and sang a wordy tale Of joust and war’s grim splendor, Of pettiskirts And ruffled shirts And shields and lances feathered. Oh, I sang a lay that caused the thrush To hang its head in shaming! I sang my song And warbled long My song in sweetness streaming. And lo, my lover sat in pain Aweary growin’, gaping.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al pedido de algo sencillo: un poema deliberadamente recargado que termina en la interrupción doméstica.

«Mr. Hamlin Garland objected to the word “legs ” in a poem (see page 186), whereupon Patience Worth in disdain of such delicacy, dictated the following, which she called» — el volumen consigna la objeción de pudor de Hamlin Garland y la réplica que provocó.

«Behold, the dappled sky; mid-hour black With golden spangles. Behold, the purple garden With its fringe of moonlight. Behold, some tender Morning, pale in its radiance, roseate, Yea, yet canopied with a sea-green sky, and red Stars growing faint in the bath of the sun. Behold, some eve with a gateway builded Of grey cloud lined of silver and the sun Peeping through yellowly gleaming. Behold, some summer path, where the primrose Bursts and hummingbirds dip deep, whirring. All of this I hae set, yet I hae a belly, egad!» — según el volumen, A Whimsy: una serie de imágenes elevadas rematada con la palabra que se le objetaba.

«It was shocking. “I acknowledge the corn,” said Mr. Garland.» — el volumen cierra el episodio con la rendición del propio Garland.

«It was remarked how little of Patience’s usual humor was coming and Mr. Curran begged Patience for something to make him laugh, foolishly making no stipulation whom the laugh should be on. This came and was found to be perfectly satisfactory for it produced results.» — el volumen anota el descuido de Mr. Curran al pedir algo de qué reírse sin decir a costa de quién.

«In that first pale hour still blushing from the night’s embrace, When the moon dips o’er the earth’s rim and the sun comes slowly forth; When the lark opeth its throat and singing, climbs the still starry sky ; And the brook slips through the dew-wet field, whispering cool words, Little calm troths, and the reeds bend low in the marsh; And the trees are heavy-swaying and the sweet scent Of the damp grain floats from the valley ; At this holy instant I hae oft heard An ass bray!» — según el volumen, el poema que resultó de aquel encargo: seis versos de amanecer rematados por un rebuzno.

«I tune my lute and let my fingers strum When lo, a gander squawks. I sigh And sing, and out the belfry chimes The bell wi’ cracked sides and a heavy tongue. I ply me listlessly and wait, and lo, A jogging cart goes clattering by. I dream me of a carol gay when lo, some wail From out a distant spot breaks in, Yet I must sing!» — según el volumen, la pieza del 2 de octubre de 1923, dictada —dice el volumen— en un momento de interrupciones y confusión.

«Are you an individual or are you a part of the cosmic flow? P. W.: I be me. Dusts 0’ me do spray ’pon airs, yet I be me.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta directa por su naturaleza; es de los pocos lugares donde la comunicante habla de sí en esos términos.

«Philosophy is a bony nag and her gait be woeful. He who rides must spur her well with his ain imagination.» — según el volumen, una de las Sparks: la filosofía como jamelgo que hay que espolear con imaginación.

«Who would sickle at the sea or sow seeds upon the tides? Who would seek primroses ’pon a sand’s shore or periwinkles upon a field? Yet this is the trade of men.» — según el volumen, la sentencia sobre el oficio humano de buscar lo que no está donde se busca.

«Are we to have perpetual or practically perpetual peace? P. W.: Nay, while man’s pocket piece be self.» — según el volumen, la respuesta de una línea a la pregunta por la paz perpetua.

«The greatest o’ jests be that upon the Great One; that He hath hung within the jaws o’ man the tung that may wag jests back unto Him.» — según el volumen, la sentencia que hace del habla humana una broma que Dios se gastó a sí mismo.

«Who said that love was fire? I know that love is ash. It is the thing which remains When the fire is spent, The holy essence of experience.» — según el volumen, la sentencia que objeta la metáfora corriente del amor y la sustituye por la ceniza.

«Oh man, acknowledge thy undoing! In thy intricate wording thou hast evolved A gnat! While thou wert busy in the complication Lo, the butterfly of wisdom flitted hence, and thou art undone.» — según el volumen, la sentencia contra la complicación verbal, con el mosquito y la mariposa.

«Build ye four walls and call it God’s country?» — según el volumen, una de las Sparks más breves, y la más directa contra la religión de templo.

«Witcheries of dank, dark places; Magic of the sod, like wits, Bespring from whence—from where?» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *toadstools*, propuesto por W. F. P. —el propio Prince— durante una sesión.

«Caught from the realms of fancy like a dartling dove, Held prisoner an instant in imagination, Which pricked the finger-tips with the Kingship of God— Creation,» — según el volumen, la respuesta al pedido de un poema sobre un dibujo de la cabeza de una niña.

«A peafowl with its graceful neck turned forward Hungry for the garden, languishing for its perfume, A peafowl so—with an arrow deep within its heart.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Paris*; el corchete que sigue es glosa del volumen, que aventura que la flecha alude a la guerra.

«A gaudy bubble paused, reflecting the motley day; A tenuous thing, a magic thing, the culmination Of man’s desire, the pinnacle of his attainment,— A gaudy bubble.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *New York*.

«While wisdom lisps, fools speak plain words. Yea, and the lisping is wisdom and the plain words, folly. And wisdom, seeing this thing, learneth to speak glibly and her speech is called learning. But it weareth cap and bells!» — según el volumen, la sentencia que invierte los papeles de sabio y necio y termina en el gorro de cascabeles.

«The ass be the best o’ man, for he shutteth up and standeth firm be he madded, and man looseth and spitteth forth and setteth him a pace upon a path o’ ruin. Then ’tis best that ye be ass. Yea, did the ass to ope o’ lips and speak forth, then would he ope the eyes 0” sages, for wisdom past the sage hath he. Yea, and many wise saws 0’ sages deck them in asses ears.» — según el volumen, el elogio del asno frente al hombre que habla de más.

«Cheap pence paid for eternity and yet man whines!» — según el volumen, la respuesta de un renglón al tema de la muerte.

«What is good night save an announcement of the faith that morning comes? What is good night? A pleasant dream, a short suspense, the interchanging of the sun and moon, the snuffing of the stars and then—good morning.”» — según el volumen, la respuesta al pedido de una buena noche por parte de Mrs. S.

«All creation is subordinate unto Man, for Man is God without His Understanding, seeking the Source of his own creation; he questioneth and becometh confused, for he would drink the Infinite with a Finite Cup.» — según el volumen, la formulación que define al hombre como Dios sin su entendimiento.

«Oh, that ye knew that wisdom seeketh upon a mountain top the Great God when He is upon the wings of the linnet that flieth the valley.» — según el volumen, la sentencia que sitúa a Dios donde la sabiduría no lo busca.

«The compliment of God, for even HE knelt at the foot of womanhood that he make entry unto earth.» — según el volumen, la segunda respuesta al tema *motherhood*, con el pronombre en versalitas tal como el volumen lo imprime.

«Each man measureth his own God. He maketh a purse to contain Him of his own wisdom, and tauts the cord.» — según el volumen, la sentencia sobre el dios a la medida de cada quien.

«Lest I be overfretful, give me labor. Lest I be overweary of my labor, Give me joy. Lest I be overjoyful Give me sorrow. Lest I be oversorrowful Give me understanding,» — según el volumen, la escala de peticiones que cierra en entendimiento.

«Into the sea of Eternity cast thee thy net and bring forth thy God that I behold him! I may place him upon the point of a sand’s grain while my God idly lets the sand of Eternity slip His fingers! Thou denyest mine and I acknowledge thine—as an atom of mine!» — según el volumen, la réplica a quien exigiera exhibir a su Dios: el dios ajeno se admite como átomo del propio, sin negarlo.

«How can we see and know God? Miss H. asked. P. W.: Ope up thy heart, dame, and look unto the babe’s palm, yea, and unto the deep o’ the sky’s arch. Yea, and feel athin thy heart the throb that telleth thee He hath smote thy lute.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta de Miss H. por el modo de conocer a Dios.

«Of all of mystery this thing be the canniest. Think ’pon it. Poured like sand from the maw of eternity, man teems and teems, each pithed of a self, each containing an atom of Him. This is His cunning—alike unto all, unlike in all.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *identity*: igual en todos y distinto en todos.

«Mine ain harp. A woeful one at times, tuned o’ self a whit, but withal my harp.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Mrs. Curran*: la médium queda nombrada como arpa propia, afinada en parte por sí misma.

«Yet my bark sails within the cup of His hand,” completed Patience.» — el volumen registra la réplica inmediata al verso de Henley que Mrs. G. citó en la sala.

«Tis self woein’, *Tis the moth of day. The grey nun Night kneels; Atween her fingers the rosary of stars Slips one by one.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *worry*; el troceo abre con *T* donde el impreso lleva el apóstrofo.

«The undergarment of every armor. Man moutheth over words, and hangeth his wisdom with garments of words. Man knoweth certainties which even God doubteth.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *fear*, seguida de la sentencia sobre las certezas del hombre.

«He who would sing within a day, a dinning, dinning day, must needs create a turret for his soul, lifting its head among the clouds, veiling its latticed windows o’er o’ the tendrilled vine o’ fancy.» — según el volumen, la sentencia sobre la torre que hay que construirle al alma para poder cantar en medio del ruido.

«Consciousness is an evidence of the separateness with which God has created each man. Conscience is the wailing of ego o’er its own consciousness.» — según el volumen, las dos definiciones que se dan a petición del Dr. S.: la consciencia como señal de separación y la conciencia como lamento del yo.

«Bit of ego, he announces truth and brands ye with fire save ye sup it. He was just and aweful, and aweful and just.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Martin Luther*, que reparte a partes iguales el juicio favorable y el desfavorable.

«Who is he who steps from out the multitude And announces him above his brother! Fate plays with atoms and one is flung Upon a pinnacle and this is chance; Yet he played with the hours and incidents, As fate plays, and won and lost!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Napoleon*, que atribuye a azar la elevación y a juego el resto.

«Crucible of a tortured day through which a holy wine distilled, e’en pouring a living stuff to an empty tide, breaked by the hand of ingratitude,» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Joan of Arc*.

«Send thou the bread to make The hearth to bake And take thy thanks from out the porridge-pot (We asked if this was a grace.) Nay, dis-grace.» — según el volumen, la gracia pedida el 15 de noviembre de 1914 y el juego de palabras con que se retira al ser preguntada.

«I pledge confusion here to fate! Let’s click the bumper to her own undoing. I wish ye sorrow, then; enough to fill my cup already overfull, And joys to fill it, now I’ve drunk thy toast.» — según el volumen, el brindis pedido la noche de Halloween de 1914, que desea pena y alegría en la misma copa.

«Fill ye not thy cup with bitter brew But sweet thee ever it with love: The day, the bowl; the hours, the brew; And friends the sweeting o’ it.» — según el volumen, la inscripción compuesta sin vacilación para una copa que se regalaría a Mr. Reedy en la Navidad de 1915.

«There be nay goal like unto womanhood.» — según el volumen, el lema de clase pedido por teléfono y dictado en una línea.

«The great God, in a sudden mercy, bent and kissed the field ; And lo! the soil was pregnant, and gave forth a golden smile.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *a field of daffodils*.

«Wisdom, unto childhood, is a mother who leads, And then the man learns, and his wisdom becomes complicate; he leads wisdom with his learning. With age cometh a fuller understanding; he discardeth learning and returns to fuller wisdom.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema de las tres edades: la sabiduría se pierde por el aprendizaje y se recupera al descartarlo.

«Why mourn o’er yesterday? God is mute, and sends tomorrow as His answer.» — según el volumen, la respuesta de una línea al tema de los pesares y las esperanzas.

«Make me a fellow, a pawn beneath Thy hand. This is Thy game, and I an atom in the great, great play; Move me! Slay me! Use me! Let me fall! What is this? This is Thy game andI Thy pawn. PLAY ME!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the joy of living*: el yo se ofrece como peón, con la petición final en versalitas tal como el volumen la imprime.

«I bleed, I sweat, I writhe in agony—to attain; What an empty dream! For today I hold the covet-prize, and tomorrow it is gone. I bleed, I writhe, I agonize, I am upon the rack of desire; There is salt in my wounds, for I sweat in agony to attain, And having attained the day I meet Death—and have lost. I am sustained by myself and by my oneness with God. I am unafeared of tomorrow, for I have known today; And having known today, know all the coming morrows.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema de la ambición, que pasa de la queja a la suficiencia sin transición.

«On several occasions such “ wishings ” were asked for and immediately handed out. Here are some of the results after one such request, the prefaced names being those of the persons for whom they were meant.» — el volumen describe el procedimiento de los *wishings*: deseos personales pedidos y entregados en el acto, con el nombre del destinatario delante.

«That thy words take wings like unto the birds that rose at His bidding.» — según el volumen, el deseo dirigido a Mr. Yost.

«That ye—(cease thy tongue!) shall weary, thereby knowin’ His labor, for this is the fullness o’ all things.» — según el volumen, el deseo dirigido a la propia Mrs. Curran, interrumpido a media frase por una reprimenda.

«A sterner stuff, eh sirrah? Weel, were I to wish thee Justice, *twould be vain. Should I wish thee understandin’, ’twould be the same.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a Mr. C., que pedía algo más severo: se le niega el deseo por vano.

«That thy tongue’s root shall keep silent the wisdom which is there until it floweth like a stream from its tip. Then shall it be purified and the sup thou offerest man shall quench his thirst.» — según el volumen, el deseo dirigido a Mrs. P. el 13 de noviembre de 1919.

«This hour, this hour, a chalice. Unto its golden cup We have poured our love, for there be not one man Who may honestly disclaim that he hath taken within His heart, God. Mayhap to refuse Him an abiding place; But His shadow hath rested upon him. Behold, from this instant we disperse and His shadow Shall follow thee. I say that tomorrow at some instant Of time, each of thee shall stop, and I, like a moth Shall flit thee, and thou shalt remember Him. I charge thee; it shall be!» — según el volumen, la bendición dictada a la mesa, que da por hecho que nadie puede negar haber alojado a Dios.

«We now asked her for something to send out to friends for Christmas and she gave Mrs. Curran a picture of a card with a little candle in each corner, one red and one green. Between the candles she gave a greeting and underneath each candle gave a verse pertaining to each. [A sample follows :—Ep.» — el volumen consigna otro encargo doméstico —una tarjeta de Navidad con velas dibujadas— y la nota del editor que anuncia la muestra.

«When my substance hath become ash, Then shall the witchery of forgetfulness be thine, And yesterday shall contain nothing within her wine Save the sweetness of the grape!» — según el volumen, uno de los versos compuestos para esa tarjeta.

«Suppose that any living poet you can name were to have more than thirty subjects fired at him one after another in a single evening, and attempt to improvise, with the result that he orally delivered 32 short poems and 7 more or less witty and aphoristic remarks, the whole containing 1360 words! Is there one who would dare be put to the test?» — Prince plantea el desafío con que abre el capítulo sobre una sola velada, y da la cifra exacta de lo producido.

«Almost universally the poets employ time and reflection and pains upon their work, and after the first draft of a set of verses is made, go over it and revise, some of them repeatedly. A single draft of Pope’s Essay on Man shows so many cancellations and interlineations that it is almost impossible to read the manuscript, and yet this is but one of the stages the poem went through. Perhaps a work which on the face of it is so finished and precise is not a good one for comparison. Take, then, the poems of Walt Whitman, which seemingly go to the other extreme in presenting an appearance of spontaneity and carelessness. Yet David McKay in his Preface tells us: “ Perhaps no author was more given to change than Walt Whitman,” and almost every page has footnotes listing alterations from one edition to another. And of course these tell nothing about the alterations in the original manuscript, before reaching the press.» — Prince construye el término de comparación con dos casos documentados —los manuscritos de Pope y las variantes de Whitman— antes de exponer el suyo.

«This evening’s work, 32 brief poems, and 7 other utterances, each started a few seconds after the subject was given by some one of the company present, contains no alteration either at the time or subse» — Prince describe el episodio y empieza a enumerar lo que lo hace fenómeno y no solo texto; el troceo lo corta en el límite de chunk, a media palabra.

«Mind, I am not claiming that Patience Worth is the greatest, of poets,—I am not ranking her at all, but only furnishing comparisons and facilities to aid the reader in assigning what rank he will.» — Prince acota expresamente lo que su capítulo pretende: no jerarquiza, ofrece términos de comparación.

«The lines to which I venture to call especial attention are printed in italics.» — Prince declara la convención tipográfica con que marca lo que le parece mejor de la velada.

«The dictation was done on the evening of January 12, 1926, at Strauss’s Studio in St. Louis, before the Current Topics Club.» — Prince da lugar, fecha y auditorio de la velada: un club de temas de actualidad en un estudio de San Luis.

«A purple sky; twilight, Silver-fringed of tremorous stars; Cloud rifts, tattered, as old lace, And a shuttling moon—wan-faced, seeking. Twilight, and garden shadows; The liquid note of some late songster; And the scent of lavendar and rue, Like memory of the day aclinging!» — según el volumen, la segunda respuesta al tema *lavendar and lace*, dada tras rechazar la primera con una interjección.

«Behold, how humility, faith, and simplicity write with sure hand a luminous script ’pon the page of day!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Abraham Lincoln*.

«He wert my fellow, wide, deep, and all-giving ; His hand wert oped, and his heart—oped as a tabernacle, Offering thee a sanctuary. He wert my fellow, wide, deep, and all-giving; His wert a short span of fellowship and fellowing.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *William Marion Reedy*, muerto para entonces y llamado aquí compañero.

«A sorry lot, eh? Aye, and they did for to seek of root and herb;—aye, and play ’pon the wit, or the lackin’ o’ it!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema de los médicos de su época, precedida por un comentario propio.

«Mystery of ages! Labor, unlearned, hath created thee. Some emblem, mayhap: gazing through the stilly night And through the searing days, at all the writhing caravans of life. Mystery—yet surely announced with a certain tongue. Thou art the labor of the past holding the raiment of today!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the Sphinx*, que atribuye la obra al trabajo sin instrucción.

«The staff in the hand of man that he may traverse the rugged path of day; The cup in the hand of man that he may drink when he is thirsted ; LOVE in the heart of man when passion hath burned out!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *friendship*, con la palabra final en versalitas tal como el volumen la imprime.

«Let me be a fool in motley on a whimsy path, Let me be a fool without bread, without shoon, without pence. Let the day deal what it will. Beloved God, give me friends, And I will wink at life and play!» — según el volumen, la segunda respuesta al mismo tema.

«Behold Him! The pith of chaos, That certain God, who, with a sure hand, Creates the universes, swings suns and moons, And lets the stars drip from his fingertips. Behold Him step upon the barren sod, And it spurteth, quickened by Him. Behold Him, the hunger urge within the breast of every man, Seeking, seeking, seeking back to the certain spot. Behold this INFINITE love, The honey of which holds the atoms of the day together; The honey of which hangs the universes suspended In a beauteous harmony held fast ; The honey of which is GOD. Man and matter, finite, are but, thirsty vessels— Man for knowledge and for wisdom, matter for quickening.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the finite and the infinite*, con la miel del amor sosteniendo átomos y universos.

«To deal justice ; to make thy heart quick with mercy, and with understanding ; To make thy hand slow in dealing aught save mercy; To make thee companionable fully with the day In a sure understanding; To measure thyself first, and find how light the measure is, And lay that *pon the beam of may brother, Ere thou measurest him!» — según el volumen, la respuesta en verso al tema *the Golden Rule*, que pone la medida propia antes que la ajena.

«A sure hand on the wheel, I’d say. One without vanity; with much justice, And great quietude!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *President Coolidge*, dada en tres líneas sobre un presidente en ejercicio.

«What of a pageant, mute, yet eloquent? What of the gaudy pageantry? What of the symboled miracle? None of this is half so wondrous As the labor man hath presented And the ideal he hath offered. There be nae miracle like the Miracle of one day!» — según el volumen, la segunda respuesta al tema *the Miracle*, que declina el prodigio a favor del trabajo humano.

«Day is turmoil, din, confusion! Learning is more confusion, more dinning! Wisdom is simplicity, understanding!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *peace*, que separa aprendizaje de sabiduría.

«An enviable attainment can it be— Yet man must pocket his egotry, As I hae said, Else, sic an thing may ne’er to come. A country be naught but the voice of her men.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *World Court*, condicionada a que el hombre se guarde su egotismo.

«Like a jewel of pearls about the hillock’s throat; The proud, proud hillock, with her head of fire! Like a necklet of pearls about her false, false throat— An instant, and behold! The labor of Time becometh naught but ash and smouldering ember.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Pompeii*.

«Behold ye, he shall for to lift his head from out today. He shall for to speak unto a newer day, For he hath spoke, hath been, hath acted, and IS for e’er and aye!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *President Wilson*.

«See what vanity can do! Tip a scarlet cup of hot, hot wine, A draught—a heady draught. Egad, it cost her head!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Mary Stuart*.

«He hath the inheritance of creation; In this he is a fellow with God. God hath bestowed upon him the quickness of His hand, And the creative element of His mind, And he, in turn, creates !» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *a construction engineer*, que hace del oficio una participación en la creación.

«The gab wench of the day!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the Press*, en una sola línea.

«A phantom? Weel enough, Prove thee thyself to me! I say, behold, here I be, Buskins, kirtle, cap and pettyskirts, And much tongue! Weel, what hast thou to prove thee?» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Patience Worth*: se devuelve al que pregunta la carga de acreditarse a sí mismo.

«Keen, filled of fire; pithed of desire. He hath writ him in his act and made him one with man Through the heritage he hath left!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Sir Isaac Newton*.

«Who said the moon would come? Who said it? I have been in the garden and I found the roses heavy, And the scents clinging. O, I am sick of old memories! Why do they intrude? Who said the sun would come? I have been out in the day And I saw nothing but turmoil. I am distraught, for I dream. Who said the stars would come and keep me tryst? I, who am so alone—yea, I am alone!» — según el volumen, la respuesta en verso al tema *melancholy*, precedida por un comentario que la llama egotismo consentido.

«What a song—and what an understanding! What harmony, what magic trick was his! Behold! he hath made his tongue holy Through his use in utterance of it!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Goethe*.

«Beacon ’gainst which the ocean swirls, Mutely, thow standest, age upon age, while the waters woo. Mutely, thou standest, erect, watchful, in silence, A symbol which answereth the turmoil in the Ocean’s throat!» — según el volumen, la respuesta en verso al tema *Gibraltar*.

«What hath led thee? What faith sustained thee? What taper led thee thus to labor with surety, And yet with wonderment?» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Galileo*, formulada entera como preguntas.

«The voice of joy! It may not be born, Save through sorrow and blood; But when it is born, and wailed, It is joy!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *music*.

«They dare what the past hoped for!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the flapper*, en una línea.

«Chattels; beasties, verily. Ye should have seen me mither’s thumb— flat with the twistin’ o’ flax, and me in buskins, alookin’ at the castle, and dreaming dreams!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema de las mujeres de su época, con el recuerdo del pulgar de la madre aplanado de torcer lino.

«Mine ain harp, a whit awry—but mine ain harp, withal!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *Pearl Curran*, que repite la fórmula del arpa ya dada antes.

«How can I say this thing called Immortality, the ever-is? When it is, there be nae sic a thing as aught else. The hope of man be in symbol, answered each day— And he will not read. (Added Remark) Immortality IS.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *immortality*: el término se declara indecible y el símbolo, ilegible para el hombre, y el añadido lo reduce a que la inmortalidad *es*.

«Be there aught sae wondrous As a cup of communion? as a cup of fellowship? Be there aught sae wondrous to a wench As a right to wield her tongue, and good listeners? Be there aught sae wondrous as the fact That we may never, never, in the days to come, be separate? For I have become a part of thee, and thou hast become a part of me! This is an holy sacrament!» — según el volumen, la pieza final de la velada, que declara sacramento el trato mismo con los presentes.

«Whether original or reflected from others, Patience Worth has confidence that her poetry is good and that it is good for people to read it. It may be that testimony from others to the literary excellence of them and to their spiritual helpfulness strengthened that confidence, but I think that she had it from the start, for from the start she spoke as one who had authority, and one who was conscious of a mission.» — Prince describe la seguridad con que la comunicante juzga su propia obra y la fecha desde el principio, sin atribuirla a los elogios recibidos.

«There is something about her tone throughout, however, that saves her claims from the appearance of conceit. It is like some mother talking to her small children, who feels no pride that she knows more than they.» — Prince acota ese retrato con una comparación: la seguridad no se le presenta como vanidad sino como la de una madre ante sus hijos.

«And not infrequently she takes pains to remind us that she is in some sense, as she believes, a messenger from God, commissioned in her way to speak for Him.» — Prince consigna la pretensión que la propia comunicante sostiene sobre sí, con el *as she believes* dentro de la frase.

«I shall play with words like castinets. I shall set them twinkling like stars, yea and make them pale and langorous. I shall burn them of passion and wreak them dizzy of twisting. He who keepeth apace shall find him a lout at the prancin’.» — según el volumen, la declaración de su propio oficio con las palabras.

«I should sing even though the winds arose and blew down my throat my song. Yea, I would swallow it and make it become a part of my flesh so that when the flesh had become dusts, behold through His magic, some field should spurt blooms more sweetly scented. Give birth unto a song! Even if it dieth at its first sound, it hath struck the bell of time.» — según el volumen, la doctrina del canto que vale aunque muera al nacer.

«There be a much ado and yet I say me unto thee it shall be that» — según el volumen, el arranque de la previsión sobre el destino de su obra; el troceo lo corta en el límite de chunk, donde sigue con la barca que navega sin que se sepa de dónde viene.

«Man may not measure the grain of my words for they are not mine. They are phantom things, becoming within thee a new thing, thereby quickening the God within thee.» — según el volumen, la comunicante niega la propiedad de lo que dicta y describe su efecto como despertar de lo divino en el oyente.

«It mattereth not that man take in that that I have set. Lo, it be truth, and even though it weareth not the pettiskirt that man desireth yet still it be truth and still it shall live.» — según el volumen, la afirmación de que la verdad dicha vale aunque no la reciban y aunque venga mal vestida.

«Behold, of base stuffs I have tortured out beauties. Of beauteous stuffs have I created new beauties. Of wastes have I builded up much and of littles have I created monstrous things. Let any man behold that that this hand hath delivered and he may not say within his heart “nay” for it is builded of the magic of love and with the trickery of magic is he undone.» — según el volumen, el balance que la propia comunicante hace de su obra.

«Any man may deny God. It is but the lapping of waves, his denials, and God is the rock.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la negación de Dios, en dos imágenes.

«Unto thee who have eaten; forget thy handmaid and remember Him who walketh beside thee, even as thy shadow.» — según el volumen, la instrucción de olvidarla a ella y recordar a Dios: la propia comunicante desvía de sí la atención.

«Look, more, it may e’en be that thy handmaid shall be caused by the tungs of earth to crumble and fade e’en as her flesh hath, but ah, ah, ah, the joy! He shall remain.» — según el volumen, la aceptación anticipada de su propia desaparición del recuerdo.

«Why don’t more people believe in you? P. W.: What then, thou art at the puttin’ 0’ words at the quizzin’ o’ me? Look thou! He hath died tides and tides agone, and thou knowest ’tis *pon Earth them o’ Him who still wag them nay!» — según el volumen, la respuesta a la pregunta de Mrs. McK. por la incredulidad ajena, que la remite al caso de Jesús.

«The last sentence, as the reader may have divined, means that Jesus Christ died a long while ago, but there are still people who talk sceptically about him.» — Prince traduce al lector la respuesta en dialecto, tarea que hace pocas veces en el volumen.

«Look, they handmaid fashioneth out loaves and thou dost take athin thy hand o’ the crumbs o’ this bread and cast unto them ahungered. And behold, thy handmaid careth not for the why nor the why nots o’ the Earth’s day! Nay, for look, this loaf, this crumb thou casteth, thou casteth for Him. And if it be trod ’neath the feet o’ Earth still it be casted and thy work done.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a quien quería difundir los escritos: se le dice que el efecto no importa, solo el reparto.

«But it must not be supposed that Patience Worth did not fully realize that some of her work was much inferior to other pieces. She not infrequently made remarks indicating her dissatisfaction, as when she called some verse a “ pot-scrape.” Sometimes a second attempt followed immediately upon the same subject.» — Prince consigna el reverso del capítulo: la propia comunicante llamaba raspadura de olla a parte de lo dictado, y a veces repetía el intento.

«First a picture of herself as a grey moth, fluttering through the portals of heaven impelled by love to eat in the cloth that veils the grey days of mortals, places through which light may come. Whether or not one is so “ tough-minded ” that he cannot entertain for a moment the thought of a returned intelligence, he can at least appreciate the beauty of the lines.» — Prince introduce el poema y a la vez ofrece al lector escéptico una salida: se puede apreciar la pieza sin admitir la inteligencia que dice hablar.

«Out the silence of that vasty Dark, through the heaven’s portals, What hap should a grey moth whose wings be sped of love And whose urge wert but desire to eat the grey days’ cloth to tatters, Letting through the light—what hap should such a moth flee forth? Surely He would not withhold its joy but let His mild eyes close And smile at the fluttering wings.» — según el volumen, The Grey Moth, del 13 de julio de 1919, autorretrato de la comunicante como polilla que agujerea el paño de los días.

«What dost thou need, O my beloved? Ne’er shalt thou turn unto thy board Save thou shalt find bread and a sup Of sweet wine. Yea, I have given thee Bread, a common bread, the bread Of kinship unto all men, and a wine For to set thee dreaming and keep Thy fancy bright-winged.» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema del 29 de septiembre de 1923, con el pan y el vino como figura de lo que deja.

«Thou mayst ne’er go ye free again Without me, for I have writ me On the sky and on the footflowers. I am like blossoms on the hedges. I am in the waters of the sea. Yea, I am in the cup of every flower; On the wings of the gnat; in the clod; At thy very foot. I am in the sand On the seashores. I am a part Of the kiss of the water on the sand. I am the quick of thy garden and the key In the archway of thy doorway. Hours nor tides may not efface me. I shall stand beside the gate of the day, And follow thee unto the spot Where night makes covenant with rest.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema: la voz se declara escrita en el mundo entero y por eso inevitable.

«What rich song would I unloose Like a flock of restless birds ascending, Neither clinging to a path, but swerving, Out and far and up and down, making music Knock the dull doors of gloom To unloose sorrow and let it free. Oh, I would see it try its heavy wings And forget its weariness and speed away To bathe in the sunlight.» — según el volumen, el arranque de My Song, del 22 de julio de 1918.

«Lo, I would create A sprite, not one whit more than a sandsgrain In height, and not one whit heavier than down So that it might sit within a man’s ear And woo him. And when he would pluck it forth Lo, it would sink deeper, aye, and lodge Within his heart. He may not deny it, this song.» — según el volumen, la imagen del duende alojado en el oído que baja al corazón: la canción se declara irresistible.

«Mine is a silver lyre With dulcet strings. Aye, And I know its melodies. They are familiar to my ears. But I would sing a new song; I would smite its slender strings With a hand of mastery, Making their silver tremble forth With their utmost melodies Until it seemed they wept in anguish.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Mine Is a Silver Lyre, del 6 de septiembre de 1916; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«For it is His breath, And its first touch would waken The soul of my lyre To unknown singing. Oh I know the lyre that is mine And its lacking, and I would make It perfect by allowing it To rest beneath His kiss.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema, donde el instrumento se perfecciona solo al dejar de tocarlo.

«I am but a babe, making little puppets of clay; Yet, mayhap, on some day, yon and yon, some philosopher, May walk beside the spot, and, seeing my love-task, smile!» — según el volumen, la pieza breve que sigue, con la obra propia puesta a la altura de un juego de barro.

«Wit is the bead upon the cup, wisdom is the wine, Learning is the froth, and love the sweet if there be any. What is my voice?—a vague thing carrying naught but a song, Some wisdom, little learning, keen atimes.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the voice of Patience Worth*: la propia voz se describe por partes y sin encarecerla.

«Lo, I proffer thee the wine of my being—for I have lived. I proffer thee wine which is bitter—for I have wept. I proffer thee wine which is sweet—for I have loved. I proffer thee wine which is salt—for I have sweat. I proffer thee wine rich in dreams—for I, too, have dreamed. No man, however his tongue be keen, can do more.» — según el volumen, el cierre de esa misma pieza, con los cinco vinos de la experiencia.

«None of the following five sample discourses by P. W. is given in its entirety. The second and third came in response to questions, the others spontaneously.» — Prince declara qué hizo con los cinco discursos: ninguno va completo, y solo dos responden a preguntas.

«I have slightly altered the language of the Sermon on Love, only by modernizing forms of some words. The disquisition on Life and Evolution, and that on Reincarnation are printed exactly as they were taken down.» — Prince distingue, pieza por pieza, cuál modernizó y cuáles van tal como se tomaron: la declaración vale para todo el capítulo.

«Behold, His houses, built by them that mouth, be bowls. And they fashion from out of their own fancy, dipped within the tallow of their own folly, a god that fitteth the cup.» — según el volumen, el arranque del Sermón sobre el amor, del 30 de septiembre de 1916, contra los templos y los dioses hechos a medida del recipiente.

«Unto all of you there be a brother; and would each man take unto him one brother—look ye, there would show then no hunger nor woe, and Earth should be wrapped within a cloth wove by the hands of all men; and this cloth would be love.» — según el volumen, la fórmula social del mismo sermón: un hermano por cabeza bastaría para acabar el hambre.

«Hath a man much, then should he deal unto the one who needeth little of his much, that he make much. Hath a man less, he should deal unto one who needeth of his less, that he make more. And this goeth on and on, even unto him who hath naught save a smile.» — según el volumen, la regla de reparto del mismo sermón, extendida hasta quien no tiene más que una sonrisa.

«They hide their brothers; even their walls’ windows set with bars [criminals in jails]. But hark; no bar shall uproot the evil, no wall shall shut it away. Nay, within the wee cradle should they reach in love.» — según el volumen, la objeción del sermón a la cárcel como remedio, con la corrección puesta en la cuna.

«The wise ones who chatter words but built not out of their hearts nor yet lovingly with their hands, shall pluck up dry twigs and weave them a cloth to hide their nakedness Here.» — según el volumen, el sermón sitúa a los que hablan sin obrar cubriéndose con ramas secas del otro lado de la muerte.

«I say that he who offereth it to his brother should sink upon his knees in loving and through tears and smiles offer it in loving; not in pity-loving, but loving-loving.» — según el volumen, la distinción del sermón entre el amor de lástima y el amor sin más.

«More, Earth seeth her folly; for look ye, He is shut within walls, while I speak ; the stones upon the pathways should cry Him out. Yea, when brother saith “ Good morning, brother,” there should be the love within the word and the smile one unto the other that tell that He abideth in thee.» — según el volumen, la objeción del sermón al Dios encerrado en muros, con el saludo cotidiano puesto como señal.

«Lands be lands, but brothers be brothers upon all lands.» — según el volumen, la sentencia con que el sermón desborda la frontera nacional.

«The cross standeth even now dripping with thy brother’s blood. Was not His sacrifice enough?» — según el volumen, el remate del sermón, dictado en 1916 y con la guerra en curso.

«Look ye, e’en the dusts be but dusts till the tide cometh that they seek them a completing. Blown ’pon His breath they fall them through the vasts in agonies o’ nothingness. Aye, and become gladsome when they seek the light and cling one unto the other, and thereby be not the dusts but a thing. Thereby is the firmament builded up. Even so it is unbuilded, thereby leaving new and free the dusts for more of fashioning.» — según el volumen, el arranque del discurso sobre la vida y la evolución, del 14 de mayo de 1917, que Prince declara impreso sin retoque.

«See ye then, the flesh is but that that He did create for the bowls o’ all things. Aye, and it is but a transient thing. Aye, a-lended, ne’er thine. Yet the new fashioning is ever new, for it is Him and of Him.» — según el volumen, la doctrina de la carne como recipiente prestado y siempre nuevo; el troceo corta el pasaje en el cambio de plana.

«Behold, He is like unto a mighty ring, aye, a great golden ball. Aye, and the heart o’ Him uncovereth and becometh, the crust and the crust becometh the heart, never, never ceasing. What is old becometh young through this thing. Look you, it may never cease. There shall be no end.» — según el volumen, la figura del anillo cuyo centro y corteza se intercambian sin fin.

«Mrs. Curran here showed signs of impatience.» — nota del registro que interrumpe el discurso: la médium se impacienta a media dictación, y el volumen lo imprime.

«Wait ye, youth. Ye should know ye may not tell o’ the building of eternities in an eye’s twinkling.» — según el volumen, la réplica a esa impaciencia, dirigida a la propia médium.

«Life is a gaysome trickster. Yea, life poureth about the atoms 0’ man wines of cunning, and equally is he filled up of Him. Thereby is man given freely and his lighting unto life leaveth him for his choosing.» — según el volumen, la doctrina de la vida como embaucadora y del libre albedrío que de ahí resulta.

«Earth knoweth o’er the fulling of eternity. Yet I say me, she hath not enough o’ wisdom for to blind one gnat. Ye see their wisdom be not binded up o’ Him. Thereby, it is but dusts. They may not know amore until they bow down and speak His name amid their wisdoming.» — según el volumen, la objeción a la sabiduría que no lleva el nombre de Dios dentro.

«How may it be that flesh created may become as flesh again in like exact? Nay, I say me, flesh is recreated of the same material, builded of the same atoms, but the honey of God is ne’er the same—the trick of its hangin’ one ’pon the other. The trend o’ kennin’ may take frae this and that through kinship, but this hath naught for to do with flesh. The bowl is and breaked may become a new bowl, fulfilling the same office; but the wine once drunk may not be drunk again.» — según el volumen, la respuesta pedida sobre la reencarnación, del 3 de septiembre de 1923: los átomos se rehacen y el vino bebido no vuelve.

«He is touched of sorrow and thereby measures his joy. He is filled of joy and thereby measures his sorrow. He sees light and learns dark; tasteth sweet and becometh acquainted with the bitter; drinketh rich wine, sweet as lotus honey and sour like unto vinegar. In all of this he is but a child learning to play a great game.» — según el volumen, la doctrina del aprendizaje por contrarios dentro de la misma respuesta.

«Wisdom is conscious experience. Folly is the disregard of experience. Consciousness is the receptivity of man to God; is the compliment of God unto His creation,» — según el volumen, las tres definiciones seguidas de sabiduría, locura y consciencia.

«God neither demands nor exacts. Wisdom is manna for them who need and hunger. Eternity is forever hungered and forever fed.» — según el volumen, la fórmula sobre el reparto de la sabiduría: se da a quien tiene hambre, no a quien la exige.

«I may not set this in mere wordin’. Nay, as well dip moonlight wi’ a mug, for it may not be. Look ye unto it; as indelibly writ as the sun is the soul of man. No mouthing, no doubting, no wonderment, no folly, no cunning, no contrivance of word may efface this fact.» — según el volumen, la declaración de que lo dicho excede a la palabra y a la vez es indeleble.

«Should God create an ass who stopped at a stile and its master felled it, would He then recreate the ass? LEgad, should He, ’twould stop at the stile. Nay, rather turn him upon a green pasture.» — según el volumen, el remate del discurso sobre la reencarnación, que la despacha con una broma de corral.

«I woe at the empty hands of the dames. Look: unto their hands hath He dealt the setting of Him upon earth, and see ye that which they do! They turn and see not, even though He showeth unto them.» — según el volumen, el arranque del discurso sobre la maternidad.

«He hath made thee the sceptrebearer of Him, to sit upon the very throne of Him. And what doest thou? Of thy blood hath He fleshed the earth. Of thy tears hath He jewelled the heavens. Of thine anguish hath He builded up songs that reach to the utmost of eternities.» — según el volumen, la doctrina que atribuye a la madre el cetro y el trono divinos.

«Behold, through the flesh of dames doth He speak unto earth. Lo, the dames be the beauteous gateway through which He steppeth unto the Day.» — según el volumen, la fórmula que hace de la mujer la puerta por la que Dios entra al día.

«Mark ye, a Gospel of Today. He who considers today and today’s incidents, shall not find him woed o’er yesterdays or tomorrows. He then who is of today is of today vitally concerned. For him there is no tomorrow and no yesterday.» — según el volumen, el arranque del Evangelio del hoy, que suprime ayer y mañana para quien atiende al incidente presente.

«In this is the symbol of the gospel of today. Today is sufficient. Today is bread. Today is wine. Today is life. Today is —Thou art. Yesterday is remorse, and has no part as an implement in labor. Tomorrow is foreboding, and is in no part a sinew which lifts.» — según el volumen, la doctrina del Evangelio del hoy: el ayer como remordimiento y el mañana como recelo quedan fuera del trabajo.

«The gospel of Today. He who reads the law becometh both his own physician and his own master. Today is intimate. It hath the prick of contact which goads life to attainment. Yesterday is a worn shoe. Tomorrow is a garment which ye sew today. Then at labor, lest tomorrow thou art naked!» — según el volumen, la formulación práctica de esa doctrina, con el mañana como prenda que se cose hoy.

«The jest is this: there is no mark which sets aloof tomorrow and awhither yesterday. Today is, and yesterday and tomorrow are today. Then in thy certainty of today acknowledge the defeat of gloom and doubting.» — según el volumen, el remate del discurso, que retira la distinción misma entre los tres tiempos.

«This is one of the exhibits in the case, and, for the very reason that it has not yet been printed, I wish to take pains in setting forth something of the beauty and intricacy of its plot, and furnishing examples from its language. To me—and better judges than I agree in the opinion—it is a most extraordinary production, deserving to be called a masterpiece.» — Prince explica por qué le dedica tanto espacio a Telka: es la pieza inédita, y declara su juicio como suyo y respaldado por otros.

«Let one set aside all his instinctive repugnance to any theory of its authorship and he will be in a much fitter mood to appreciate it. Then let him employ one-twentieth of the patience and pains in familiarizing himself with its unaccustomed locutions that he would have to expend upon Chaucer.» — Prince pide al lector el mismo esfuerzo que le daría a Chaucer, y lo cifra en una veinteava parte.

«Although a glossary of terms should accompany the work when it is published in order to show that very many of the curious terms are actually obsolete words once in good usage, or archaic and rare words, or are still surviving dialectical ones, yet, without it, although one would, unless himself a lexicographer in learning, wonder at many of the words, or the senses in which they are used, still, after a little practice in its reading, there are few expressions in the poem which he would not really understand.» — Prince declara la deuda editorial de la pieza —un glosario que la acompañe— y a la vez sostiene que se entiende sin él tras algo de práctica.

«The poem, or idyl, is consistent and consecutive from beginning to finish, it is constructed instinctively according to the rules of dramatic composition.» — Prince describe la construcción de Telka y la atribuye a instinto y no a método aprendido.

«There are no marks of dislocation anywhere, no signs indicating where dictation left off and began again, and yet we . have the product exactly as it was set down.» — el dato de método que a Prince le importa: el texto no muestra costuras entre sesiones y va tal como se tomó.

«And to think that these 60,000 words came through the mouth of a woman who had never written a line of what could have been called poetry in her life, without any conscious coéperation on her own part except to repeat what seemed to be interiorly dictated to her, in the form of scores of bits produced on various evenings in the company of others, and interlarded between conversational exchanges and spontaneous production of quantities of other literature, on different subjects and in widely varying styles!» — Prince resume las condiciones de producción de las sesenta mil palabras: a trozos, entre conversaciones y mezclado con literatura de otros géneros.

«Telka begins with the picture of a barefooted woman, the heroine of the story, engaged in the field making hay-cocks of the mown grass. Then comes Franco, a young peasant of dreamy and artistic soul, who says pretty words to her partly about herself. She seems to like him— at least is soon capable of being jealous of him, but cannot understand, and despises his inclination for poetic thoughts, which are Greek to her.» — Prince resume el arranque del argumento y el contraste entre los dos personajes.

«Telka, the maid, is fond of personal adornment, but otherwise has no use for beauty, enjoys her meals frankly and often keeps pigs in the chimney corner. Franco offers her fruit and asks her to smell its “ scent like to a wine,” but she repels it, preferring “a joint and drip, and to soak it up.”» — Prince caracteriza a la protagonista por su rechazo de lo bello, con dos réplicas del propio texto dentro.

«Dewdamp soggeth grasses laid low aneath the blade at yester’s harvest, and thistie-bloom weareth at its crown a jeweled spray. Brown thrush, nested ’neath the thick o’ yonder shrub, hath preened her wings full long aneath the tender warmth o’ morning sun. Afield, the grasses glint, and breeze doth seeming set aflow the current o’ a green-waved stream. Soft-footed strideth Telka, bare toes a-sink in soft earth, and bits o’ green a-cling, bedamped, unto her snowy limbs. Smocked brown and aproned blue, she seemeth but a bit o’ earth and sky alight amid the field.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Telka en su lengua propia, con la descripción del campo y la entrada de la protagonista.

«Franco: “ Stay, Telka! ’tis nay fair. I love not the grasses wet. The devil hides him in thy pillow at night to whisper thee a trick for every dawn.”» — según el volumen, una de las réplicas de Franco en el diálogo de apertura.

«Franco: “ Come, Telka, lass, I fretted out the morn at yester’s early hours, and, casting, sorried sore. Do leave me cast with thee. See! yonder way-rose hath a bloom. She be a thrifty wench and hath saved it from the spring.”» — según el volumen, la réplica en que Franco confiesa haber trabajado de noche para cubrir la falta de ella.

«Franco: “ But list, Telka! I would have thee drink from out my cup.” Teka: “ Ah, show me then the cup! Look! here be a nest o’ beetles. Drat their gnaw! The grass roots show their havoc.” Franco: “ The wonders! See! the young are but a rust o’ brown and boast not o’ a Sabboth black.” Texxa: “There! (Crushes them with her heel.) A smudge o’ slime! I shudder at their dampish crawl.”» — según el volumen, el intercambio donde la oferta poética de Franco choca con la respuesta literal de Telka.

«Franco: “ What, Telka, doth possess thee? Do leave the casting for a whit o’ whisper. I have here aneath my smock-shirt a something that shall gladden thee. See! like to yonder sky and tree I’ve put it so upon the scroll. The friars at the hill-side there did shew it me. And, Telka, they do show a trick o’ coaxing from a mass 0’ bits and colors, and a fitting o’ the bits, a wonderwork alike the Holy One! And see ye here, the letters all aglow! I be learning o’ the trick.”» — según el volumen, la réplica en que Franco muestra el trabajo de iluminación aprendido con los frailes.

«I have nay liking for a purple gown upon an aged back, and red doth set the geese a-clatter. See, Franco! I tear a-loose thy neck-band! Look ye at such a breast and brawn and such a back and neck! A-born to field, and thou a-prattle o’ a pot o’ color and dead man’s chant! Do tuck thy lift aneath a goodly load o’ blades and cast, and cast! And fear lest thy fancy leaveth thee to spin, or weave or—yea, to make porridge, or e’en to ply the brushbroom like unto a wench!”» — según el volumen, la respuesta de Telka al simbolismo de los colores: lo despacha por el lado del cuerpo y del trabajo.

«Telka’s father, Baba, also has an eye for beauty in nature, and a craving for spiritual] realities. This exasperates Telka, and her mother before her, now dead, had caused him to repress his inclinations,» — Prince consigna el paralelo interno del argumento: la madre muerta hizo con el padre lo que Telka hace con Franco.

«A-swish the pot-broth! A-whang the bowl! A-kick the hearthlog! A-flush the cheek and a-snap the eye! A-jerk the reed-wove basket from off the cupboard top! A-thud bare soles! A-whack upon the flags with scows,! a-slammed from ’neath the bench! A-clatter scow-shod feet, and kirtle jerked o’er middle 0’ the smock! A-toss the curls, and maid, a-hot by anger, off adown the path unto the river’s bend.» — según el volumen, el pasaje de Telka en que la rabia de la protagonista se cuenta entera por sonidos y movimientos, sin un solo verbo conjugado.

«Marion hints that she has heard that Franco has jilted her and Telka pretends that they are engaged, then goes to Franco in the field and demands that as he has caused her to be talked about, he marry her.» — Prince resume el nudo del argumento: el compromiso lo impone ella, invirtiendo la iniciativa habitual.

«So! ye spent o’ pretty words and deem it not meet to purchase them! Ye hadst then to rather cast thy price awhither. Welladay! ’tis time then the purchase be made. I bid ye list, Franco! *Tis days thou hast prated drivel, and I be no pot to catch the drip. Thou then shalt dance to tune! Thy kerchief hid! Come, fetch it hence! I fain would tear it to a shred. Paugh! Thou art a fortune’s fool to build upon a height. I fain would save thee, then. I’d set thee at a ridge-dig and root thee in the earth. I bid ye list! *Tis thou that set a-wag the tung o’ countryside, and I be jest among the fools. Then thou shalt buy thy spoil! Aye, I know thee for a saint a-clothed in piety, but a maggot rot aneath. Thou dost wed to me, Franco!» — según el volumen, el parlamento en que Telka le exige matrimonio a Franco por haberla puesto en lenguas.

«This word “ scow,” meaning shoe, and used frequently in Telka, Patience Worth afterwards said in response to a non-leading question by Mr. Yost, should have its sh sounded as in shoon, still employed in dialectical English.» — Prince consigna una precisión sobre la pronunciación que la propia comunicante dio a pregunta no dirigida de Mr. Yost.

«It is a mystery why a spirit Patience Worth should spell her word “ scow,” but it is equally a mystery why a subconscious secondary personality supposed to possess such enormous mnemonic powers, should so spell it, since it could not be a memory of any spelling in print.» — Prince deja el problema de la grafía sin resolver y hace notar que estorba por igual a las dos hipótesis, la espiritista y la subconsciente.

«I do dang thee! I then should blush to make thee pay, and brazen through the day a-standing to the taunts o’ fools. Fetch thee hence with me! See! here be the lands o’ Baba, and here be 'Telka, who aneath doth sorry that ye be an ass! Thou shouldst bury neath the soil thy pots o’ daub and perchance they then shall spring a grain more o’ worth to thee. I be no weaver o’ rainbows, but I stew full well. Thy sup hath sorried sore.» — según el volumen, la réplica de Telka a que le digan que no es propio de una muchacha pedir la mano.

«He who would nest with swans [an illusion to Ione] should seek not geese ”» — según el volumen, la sentencia del padre a Franco; el corchete es glosa del volumen, que imprime *illusion* por *allusion*.

«My hand, lad! I do love thee and my tinder wench. She be a blossom. Do believe ’tis I who know thy plight, but thou didst build the path and ’tis thou who then must tread thereon.» — según el volumen, el remate del padre: compasión y a la vez atribución de la culpa al propio Franco.

«Stand! Do ye but touch, I scream! I tipped the honey-pot upon my head and thou wouldst have me believe ’twere thy gift.» — según el volumen, el rechazo de Telka al cortejo de Franco una vez conseguido el compromiso; el troceo corta el parlamento en el cambio de plana.

«Ho, Phillipe! Do thou to cast thy yawn and wish a luck to bridegroom! Dost know? °Tis Telka who did put the sun to high through all my days.» — según el volumen, el anuncio del compromiso al guardián del peaje.

«Whew! The corpse did keep full well!» — según el volumen, la réplica de Phillipe a la fecha inventada del compromiso: una línea de humor de aldea.

«Phillipe did say ’twere he who would to let me know to keep mine own a-circled round with teeth, else he should flee.» — según el volumen, el consejo que Marion transmite sobre la lengua, y que provoca el intercambio de gansos que sigue.

«A-drip, and drops a-slide ’pon stone walls to pool aneath. A-chill the moon air and mist doth hang ’bout hill like white smock ’bout the shoulders of a wench. Smudge-scent upon the air, and brown fat reeking from crack o’ door. A grunt, a shuffle, and door doth ope, and Telka wriggleth bare toes in pool-drip.» — según el volumen, el arranque del capítulo cuarto de Telka, otra descripción sin verbo principal.

«Again she rails against Ione, and Franco does not deny his admiration for her, but says that between them is a wall, “to a height and thick that I may ne’er climb nor pierce.» — Prince resume el triángulo del argumento y cita el muro con que Franco reconoce la distancia de clase.

«to find the sprite who put the curl within the wee-squeal’s [pig’s | tails. Aye, and yet the one who tuned the ass’s song and strung the earth with fools, and pinned a pettiskirt ’pon he who piddles?* in the daub.» — según el volumen, el deseo que Telka formula donde los demás piden dones de hadas; una nota del volumen glosa *piddles* como voz rara aún viva en dialecto.

«The morn’s star hangeth ’pon a sun’s beam and showeth white its light. Soft-wrapped, the hills do lie a-cradled in a veil o’ mist. The herds aroused do patter ’pon the sod like to a summer’s rain, and tree tops wallow in morn’s sweet breeze. But threaded smoke doth tell 0’ life athin the cot.» — según el volumen, el amanecer con que sigue el capítulo quinto de Telka.

«Aye, Telka, it falleth to thy hem, and aye, a-cloaketh thee! And the Lady sayeth she put a hope that love should wrap thee just so soft. There be a kiss aside the blossom here, and she did beg that ye do press thereon and put a prayer, my Telka, that she yet see thee and thy happiness ; for maid, doth thee then know she hath not sight?» — según el volumen, el regalo de Lady Ione a Telka, con la ceguera revelada en la última línea.

«Telka, thus first learning that the Lady is blind, is struck by a moment’s contrition.» — Prince marca el punto de giro del argumento en ese descubrimiento.

«Gang! gang! on, ye snails! Gad! what hell the witches brew *pon Baba. and the lad ’pon this day! [They have been talking of Telka’s driving thrift and sharp tongue.] Damn thee, sagged backs! I swear ’tis thy tails aswish at faster than thy hoofs! Hoa!» — según el volumen, el arranque del capítulo sexto de Telka, con tres años transcurridos y un boyero maldiciendo a sus bueyes.

«Jean! Jean! ’Tis morn. The sun-warm telleth me, and dark a-showeth glow. List ye, yon thrush! Ah, Jean, ’twere once mine, the field.» — según el volumen, el arranque del capítulo séptimo, donde la señora ciega pide que le describan lo que no ve.

«There be naught but field and sun and road a-traveled not.» — según el volumen, la respuesta de la sirvienta, que es la que el argumento declara insuficiente.

«The servant-maid is incapable of giving her blind mistress what she wants.» — Prince nombra la carencia sobre la que se monta todo el capítulo.

«A blue robe fluttering, and bright locks like crown, she seeketh, arms outstretched. A sudden rush and cling about the limbs, and wee one rippleth forth the joy o’ catch,» — según el volumen, el encuentro de la ciega con la niña en el campo; el troceo corta el pasaje en el cambio de plana.

«And bird-note pipeth, ‘I be the Telka-wee.’» — según el volumen, la línea con que la niña se nombra a sí misma.

«I be a-naught that thou wouldst pluck,—a thistle ’mid the field, and she, the Wee, be but a sickly babe o’ little heft.» — según el volumen, la respuesta de Telka cuando la ciega le pide que se deje tocar.

«List! I’d tell thee o’ the thistle’s plight. “For know, she sprung from out the sod at coax o’ sun, and found the earth a-decked with sister blooms, and reached her forth and saw the buds a-gathered ’pon her sisters’ stalks, and lo! not *pon her own.» — según el volumen, el arranque de la parábola del cardo con que Ione contesta a esa autodescripción; el asterisco por apóstrofo es del escaneo.

«And she a-streached her forth, and higher, and lo! she felt at heart a-soft, and ’pon her stem a crown a-bloomed and ’twer 0” softest silk and dyed a regal hue; for He did love o’ her a-spite the spines, and crowned her with His love.» — según el volumen, el remate de la parábola: la planta que se llenó de espinas por envidia acaba coronada igual.

«Ye sound alike unto my man; he spinneth tales and be a-blind, I swear, though he hath eye. He seeth when I do see a-naught, and blinds ® at what I point to him. I look not to posey but to grain, and he careth not for grain but far and o’er doth love the bloom.» — según el volumen, Telka describe a su marido en los mismos términos con que acaba de describir a la ciega, sin advertirlo.

«Do put a game with me. Look ye unto the brook, and yet afar unto the river’s bend, and list, and tell to me what is’t thou seest and do hear.» — según el volumen, el juego que Ione propone y que estructura el resto del capítulo: mirar y decir lo que se ve.

«Unto the brook I see that the man o’ me hath let the gooseherd at a-loose when I did bid them a-tethered, and they be a-swim off, and ’twill be a task o’ me to drive a-home. And to the river’s bend I see the land o’ the Lord, unturned and weed a-grown, and little else. And I do hear the bleat o’ sheep athin the higher field, and it be a hunger bleat. They then do cry at clean o’ field, for we did crop it close.» — según el volumen, la primera respuesta de Telka al juego: todo lo que ve es faena pendiente y pérdida.

«Nay, thou art a-building spines. Now do ye to pluck a grasses’ tassel and look ye and tell to me.» — según el volumen, la instrucción con que Ione reduce el juego a una sola brizna de hierba.

«Nay, I be a-blind and I do see but what thou spellest me.» — según el volumen, la frase que hace del juego una necesidad de la ciega y no una lección.

«Nay, crush not the tassel! *T'wer His love cast unto the field.» — según el volumen, la reprensión de Ione cuando Telka aplasta la brizna; el troceo imprime el apóstrofo como asterisco.

«Wert not alike the pity o’ Him that I did know the fields afore? °*Tis such a joy to search amid the every scene ahid athin my heart, and cunger’ days to fit the spelling o’ one who words the scene. The Marion did tell me o’ one, a witch 0’ laughter, who did stack amid this very field, and a lover who, like a shadow, followeth. And I did live me here amid the field with them, for I did know each path and how the grain agrew and waved. And see ye! *twere such a joy for I did step amid the fields each day with them and they knew not. *Twer thus their joys were mine.» — según el volumen, la explicación de Ione: haber visto antes de cegar le permite reconstruir con lo que otros describen.

«Ah, I’ve heard a tale abroad of Telka, a wench o’ hots and ; cools. But ’twere a-surely not o’ her she spelled. She had athin her heart a wicked ® that her man did love not ’mid the fields but of the landed rank.» — según el volumen, Telka habla de sí misma en tercera persona sin darse a conocer, y se acusa en el mismo movimiento.

«Telka’s eyes are somewhat opened by this talk with Ione and for the first time she begins to doubt herself. The sweetness of the Lady overcomes her and she goes home greatly shaken in spirit.» — Prince marca aquí el segundo giro del argumento.

«Glimpses of the developing plot in the first nine chapters have now been given, illustrated by passages from the text. Space can be afforded only for a few brief extracts from the remaining ten chapters.» — Prince declara el límite de su propia exposición: nueve capítulos glosados y diez apenas espigados.

«There are sentences whose few words fairly explode to produce impressions in the consciousness of the reader like vivid illusions of sight and sound. Thus, taken almost at random: “ A sudden halt, and whip abites the air, which barks in rage of cut.» — Prince ilustra con un ejemplo tomado al azar el efecto que atribuye a la prosa de Telka.

«So, maid, thee’dst prate to one a-holy and at age!” Teixa: “At age, aright! But ’pon the soul o’ me, good friar, the leggen o’ Ricardo, at hole and rent, be a-holier afar. Aye, and the damns o’ him be strong o’ prayer. Aye, and the prayer o’ ye be damned, since thee’rt at pray at ease, and he be at damn, aye, and do.» — según el volumen, el intercambio de Telka con el fraile: la santidad se mide por las calzas rotas de un pobre y no por el rezo cómodo.

«The others present reproach her for using such language to the Friar, but the latter does not take it amiss and answers, in part, “ The Telka hath a hotted tongue, aye, and heart sweet as prayer.» — según el volumen, la reacción del propio fraile a la insolencia de Telka, que Prince cita como muestra del humor tolerante de la pieza.

«There are passages of haunting pathos and tenderness. Those which are the most extreme in poignancy cannot be cited, since they are too long and also too dependent for their appreciation upon the reader’s memory of the preceding plot. I will give two or three bits.» — Prince declara por qué no cita lo mejor del registro patético: depende de la trama previa y no cabe.

«O’er drooped Lady she standeth at out-reached arms, and creepeth close and well-athin the arms, like bird’s young a-hovered. Nay word save pale face raised and smile o’erspread and whispered breath: ‘The sprite hath sought.’» — según el volumen, el pasaje de la niña que va al encuentro de la ciega dormida en el campo; el troceo corta el arranque en el cambio de plana.

«Sun, sun, Telka, brighted ’pon its green and hang a-low a cloud that setteth a-here and there a shadow’s flit. There aside the river’s bend a-showeth tower, the toll. And up through green a-steppeth one whose locks do shine a-smoothe, cape a-fluttereth and foldeth lovingly ’bout the form o’ her; and she a-smile. And then—and then, Telka, what! What! The path doth show it empty. Think ye the path hath stored o’ her? Nay, but heart o’ me a-holdeth ever the see 0’ her. And ’tis love that showeth ever, at the bid, the Marion ’pon path to meet Phillipe.» — según el volumen, la respuesta de Phillipe cuando Telka le aplica a él el juego que Ione le enseñó a ella: el viudo ve en el campo a su mujer muerta.

«Sup and word put hours a-flight, and sun did fat and red and sink him heavied and a-smile athin cool gray mist that crept o’er Earth’s cheek. A-later, ’twere moon did steal o’ red and rise like to the cooled sun, a-stripped o’ beam, and arise, did show ’pon wearied, and day a-finished and a-filled. “ The night’s death did chill, the morn’s breath a-chill-bit hung the air, and sun wert paled o’ summer’s task. Frost-kissed the blades—a traitor’s kiss. The village, waked, did fetch forth at a-bend and hugged, and chimney-tops a-showed a-streaming. The air, a-reft 0” warm, set squeals asong and fowl a-cackle. Up hill’s path Friar a-trod, and fetched a Brother. Fields o’ Hall lay deep grown o’ tare, and wall standeth dark and sorry ’pon waste o’ land. And doves, a-flit o’er roof and nested mid eaves, did croon and croon and mourn.» — según el volumen, las dos viñetas de atardecer y de amanecer otoñal que Prince entresaca de la pieza.

«live, we see and know them, one of them is not the replica of another. Two or more may have kindred tastes or dispositions similar, yet every one has characteristics which distinguish him from every other.» — Prince formula el elogio que sostiene toda su comparación con Maeterlinck: los personajes se distinguen unos de otros.

«On the contrary, the characters of Maeterlinck —and I may refer to him because he has a great reputation as a» — Prince declara por qué elige a Maeterlinck como término de comparación —su reputación—; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana, donde sigue describiendo a sus personajes como espectros pálidos.

«To pursue the comparison, it is far easier to follow the plot of Telka, and to understand the developing situations, in spite of the difficulties of its queer dialect, than it is to follow the drift and keep abreast of the meaning, say of Princess Maleine, for all the almost childish simplicity of its language.» — Prince invierte el reproche corriente: la lengua rara de Telka estorba menos que la lengua simple del belga.

«This does not make more progress than the other. Of course, both have meaning of a sort, and if you read the whole play from the beginning, in each case, you may be able to guess what it is. And it is undeniable that there is charm in obscurity which provokes curiosity, as there is charm in a fog which may hide we know not what.» — Prince concede que la oscuridad tiene encanto y que los pasajes citados significan algo, antes de sacar su conclusión.

«Personally, I find charm in Lewis Carroll’s *Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. And sometimes I fancy that this, too, means something.» — Prince cita el poema sin sentido de Lewis Carroll como parte de esa concesión, con una ironía sobre su propio argumento.

«We all admit that Maeterlinck is a great literary artist. But I cannot help thinking that sometime, when disgust at the ouija-board, irrelevant to literature but not to the reactions of critics, has passed away, it will be discovered that “ Patience Worth,” as judged by Telka, is a greater.» — Prince pone su juicio comparativo por escrito, y lo condiciona a que pase el desagrado que provoca el tablero.

«Bear in mind that Moby Dick was not really determined by critics to be a great novel until a half century after it was written and when its author had long passed beyond praise or blame. Harper’s Cyclopedia of American History, edition issued fourteen years after Herman Melville’s death, although it furnishes biographical sketches of hundreds of American writers, some great and some pitifully small, does not mention his name.» — Prince respalda su previsión con el caso Melville, documentado con una enciclopedia que catorce años después de su muerte no lo nombraba.

«A generation ago Barrett Wendell, a noted Harvard professor of English, wrote: “ He began a career of literary promise which never came to fruition ;” now Van Wyck Brooks says (N. Y. Herald-Tribune Book Review, May 16, 1926): “ Today there are few critics who would not rank him among the two or three pre-eminent men of letters this Continent has produced.”» — Prince mide el cambio de juicio sobre Melville citando a dos críticos con fecha y publicación.

«I dwell upon this case since it enforces what I believe to be a fact, namely, that sometimes circumstances irrelevant to the issue set literary judges on a wrong track, which they or their successors later have to abandon and right about face.» — Prince enuncia la tesis que el caso Melville le sirve para sostener: circunstancias ajenas al asunto desvían el juicio literario.

«One professional critic of literature, the author of many books, I heard expound the merits of Patience Worth in glowing terms, but when I tried to get from him a sober opinion for this book, he shrank and did not even reply.» — Prince pone un caso propio y sin nombre: un crítico que elogió en público y no quiso escribirlo para este libro.

«Another artistic feature is the way in which the change in Telka’s character is worked out, so that she, too, comes to yearn after and appreciate xsthetic and spiritual beauty. Such changes do take place in human character. They often find a place in drama and novels, but not infrequently these depart from psychological law.» — Prince señala el cambio de carácter de la protagonista y lo mide contra la verosimilitud psicológica.

«The very bad young man or the utterly vain and heartless girl in the moving-picture receives some shock, undergoes some illuminating emotional experience and undergoes a change. All right so far—such changes are so initiated. But alas! they are made instantly complete—no trace of the old besetting sin left, no temporary or partial relapses, no necessity for struggle. One day devil, next day and forever angel. All such representations are unconvincing, false, nauseating and hence inartistic.» — Prince describe la conversión instantánea del cine como falsa, y con eso fija el criterio con que juzga la de Telka.

«So Telka is not utterly made over the day that Lady Ione’s first conversation with her affects her so, but something was then planted in her soul which had not obtained its full growth until the end of the story, if even then. She still breaks out into sarcastic and rough speeches, but they are softened more and more by good humor. She remains impulsive and dominating, but her impulses and her aggressiveness tend more and more to altruism.» — Prince describe el cambio gradual del personaje, con recaídas y rasgos viejos sublimados.

«And let us not forget, as we finish the yet imperfect appraisal of the merits of the idyll Telka, that it was dictated in a total of about thirty-five hours only, intermingled with talk, and a variety of miscellaneous literary material, in the presence of witnesses, and through the mouth of a woman who up to that time had read little poetry, who had never practiced or studied the art of dramatic or poetical construction, and who through her days, during the period of the dictation, was engaged on her household duties, singing at the piano, making and receiving calls, going to picture shows and doing all the other things which make up the life of an ordinary American woman of moderate circumstances,» — Prince cierra el capítulo recordando las condiciones de producción: unas treinta y cinco horas en total, entre visitas, piano y cine.

«The morn spread forth the golded tresses of the sun, and lo, a star still rested upon a cloud bar. And Jerusalem slept. The temples stood whited, and the market’s place shewed emptied. Upon the temple’s pool the morn-sky shewed, and doves bathed within the waters at its edge. Beside the market’s way camels lay, sunk upon their folded legs, and chewed, their mouths slipping o’er the straw, and tongues thrust forth to pluck up more for chewing. The hides shewed like unto a beggar’s skull, hair fallen off o’er sores. The day had waked the tribes, and narrowed streets shewed bearded men, and asses, packed. The temple priests stood forth upon the stoned steps and blew upon the shell that tribesmen come. From out the pillared place the smoke of incense curled, and within the stone made echo of the chants and sandals-fall of foot.» — según el volumen, el arranque del primer extracto de The Sorry Tale, con la mañana de Jerusalén; el encabezado del capítulo declara las planas de la novela de donde salen los tres extractos.

«And merchants spread forth their wares upon the temple steps that they who came from out should see. Bent and shrunk like unto the skins of ox, they sat and whined, hands spread forth o’er the wares. Filthed hands bore fruits, and faces dead looked out from swathing of cloth; and they whined, and shewed sores and twisted limbs.» — según el volumen, la escena de los mercaderes y los mendigos en la escalinata del templo, del mismo extracto.

«Within the walls the men of other lands came forth. And smells sent them up unto the day, scents of spice and fruits and filth. And the wall’s gate had been oped since the light and the beggars came within like dreams unto night.» — según el volumen, el cierre de esa descripción, con los olores como vía de entrada al cuadro.

«And there came from out the narrow street a maiden, who wore o’er her face a cloth, and she bore a tray of fruits and blooms. And upon her arms there shewed copper bands, and at her ankles they shewed, and the flesh of her bare legs was stained green with their touching. And o’er her breast hung a broad strand of black locks, and her bosom shewed dark beneath the white cloth that covered it. And within her ears hung hoops of metal.» — según el volumen, el retrato de Nada, construido enteramente por objetos y colores.

«Nada hath tucked her heart within the blooms,” said the market’s men, and Nada shrugged and cast bloom unto the men.» — según el volumen, la línea de los hombres del mercado y el gesto con que ella responde.

«The light shewed wets, and rains swept that chilled. And the market’s places crept with men, even as an ant’s hill when waters beset it. And Ezra, who sat within his fruit bin, looked unto the daughter of his flesh, Reba, who sat, casting of palms upon the damped airs that flies swarm not. And without stood the men of Rome, and they laughed among them and made words that the Jews hear, and spake: “Lo, these Jews await a King! Yea, no Jew hath precious stuff but that he waiteth that he give unto this one!» — según el volumen, el arranque del segundo extracto, con la burla de los romanos sobre el rey que los judíos esperan.

«And they spake more, and laughed o’er the words that had come from out Bethlehem, and said that this was indeed a truth; for lo, a Jew had been brought forth within the asses’ bed.» — según el volumen, la burla romana sobre el nacimiento en Belén, que el relato pone en boca de los soldados.

«prophets wrote that that all Jews know. Rome’s people eat of swine, and he who eateth swine eateth that that filtheth them.» — según el volumen, el remate de la respuesta de Ezra a su hija, que devuelve el desprecio con un argumento de pureza ritual; el troceo corta el arranque en el cambio de plana.

«And they spat upon his fruits, and made loud words, saying: “ Behold, Jerusalem hath been beset of locusts and desert’s fleas! And Jerusalem’s men fill upon this! ” And they laughed, and went them unto the temple’s steps and stood upon their wet, and cried out of the king born of asses, and cast stones up unto the temple’s doors.» — según el volumen, la escalada del incidente hasta las piedras contra las puertas del templo.

«And Ezra swept up upon a Rome’s man and raised his blade and cried: “ He who blasphemeth the temple payeth with his tongue! ” And he took the Rome’s man’s head within his bared hands and bended it back unto the very snapping of the neck, and behold, the hands of the Rome’s man fell limp, and Ezra took his blade and oped the lips of the Rome’s man and cut out his tongue.» — según el volumen, el pasaje más crudo del extracto, que Prince imprime entero.

«And one among the Rome’s men, seeing a Jew lad of young years, took him up and cut ope his bowels, and tore them loose and cast unto the paves that men trod upon them.» — según el volumen, la matanza recíproca que sigue, sin atenuación por ninguna de las dos partes.

«And behold, the temple’s steps shone red-stained, and the pools shewed red, and limp lay the flesh that had been of the Jews, and limp the flesh that had been of Rome, and neither knew his brother.» — según el volumen, el remate del episodio, que iguala a los muertos de los dos bandos.

«And long the time hung unto the creep of dark, and no man shewed within the market’s place. No man offered of wares save him who had forsaken not his bin, nor did the hand of Jerusalem take up its dead. And Rome looked not upon them, but took up the flesh of Rome.» — según el volumen, el cierre del extracto: el mercado vacío y cada bando recogiendo solo a los suyos.

«Behold, a man’s sin is like unto a door. It turneth upon a thong and the thong is the thing that causeth it to ope and to shut. Thereby the thong is the door. What man herein knoweth the thong that hath oped the door unto this woman, or yet shut it?» — según el volumen, la parábola de la puerta y la correa con que el relato hace hablar a Jesús ante la mujer acusada.

«And Mary lay the alabaster box upon the floor and oped its pit, and behold, tears fell within it, and she put unto it its cover and gave it unto the hands of Jesus. And He held it up before them that looked and spake: “ Her casket of jewels also hath her hands delivered. Behold, the herbs of Heaven shall be refreshed with these.» — según el volumen, el cierre de ese episodio, con las lágrimas dentro del frasco de alabastro.

«And they departed, and the morn found them that had harked, filled of wonder and fear; for no man might speak the forgiving of sin save that he make his sacrifices at the holy spots. And they were fearful among them.» — según el volumen, la reacción de los testigos: el perdón fuera del templo los deja con miedo.

«I got from off the hassock and tiptoed over to the castle beneath the glass and stood rapt. Beside it lay a book of prayer. It was thin and flat and black, and I knew it was Miss Patricia’s. From this I went up to the what-all, and the lights played o’er it and I stood before it filled with wonder. Upon the third shelf was a china dog, with a babe upon its back. Oh, to touch this! I turned stealthily and looked to Miss Patricia. She did not see. I reached forth one hand and tiptoed and it was mine.» — según el volumen, el pasaje de Hope Trueblood narrado por la niña, con el hurto contado desde dentro.

«A thief! My dear brother William’s pet! Oh, that the earth should be so sinful! Reuben Passwater, take this brat out of this house!» — según el volumen, la reacción de Miss Patricia ante el mismo incidente.

«Why does your worthless mother leave you free in night’s hour to visit Christian homes? Your feet are upon the ground. Where are your better shoes?» — según el volumen, el reproche que desplaza la escena del robo a la pobreza.

«Mr. Passwater stooped slowly and took up a shoe and put it on, then the other just as slowly. He arose and buttoned his vest, sighed, went for his greatcoat and made a sign to me to follow. We went out of a narrow hallway that smelled of mutton.» — según el volumen, la salida de la casa contada por gestos menudos; el olor a carnero es de la clase de detalle que los reseñistas señalaban.

«This unprinted story is laid in some long-ago time. Quintissimo is a lord’s Fool, such as existed as late as the eighteenth century, since» — Prince presenta The Merry Tale, todavía inédita, y fecha la figura del bufón con una referencia documentada; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana.

«Hast heard o’ the hen and the wren? E-e-na? Listen! In quest of its nest, the wren found the hen’s. In quest of her’s the hen found the wren’s. Now the hen in the wren’s And the wren in the hen’s What will the hatchin’ be?» — según el volumen, el acertijo del bufón Quintissimo, en el extracto de The Merry Tale.

«Methought to find it upon the last swallow, but alas! I swallowed it! The king dropped a bit of curd. I wonder did the mouse find it.» — según el volumen, la salida con que el bufón esquiva la respuesta; el volumen anota entre corchetes que la última frase transmite en clave un aviso a otro personaje.

«Of course, lifted out of its context, the words of the Fool are cryptic. So are those of the Fool in King Lear:» — Prince acota su propia cita: sacada de contexto es críptica, y empareja al bufón con el de King Lear.

«One of the dictionary definitions of the word “ proverb” is: “ A familiar and widely known popular saying in epigrammatic form.” Obviously Patience Worth’s sayings, in so far as they prove to be original with her, cannot answer to this definition. But every proverb must have had a beginning, when it, too, was not familiar and widely known. And it was as wise and clever the first time it was uttered as it was afterward recognized to be.» — Prince abre el capítulo de los proverbios con una definición de diccionario que la propia materia no cumple, y objeta la definición en vez del material.

«I knew before this study began that proverbs are found among all peoples, and are imbedded in the literature of the ages, but I did not know how much attention they had attracted from scholars. In the Boston Public Library I found a vast number of collections, varying _-from a dozen pages in length to many hundreds. Most of them are large enough to be called books. There are over fifty collections of English proverbs by as many different compilers. There are twenty-six collections of French proverbs, twenty-four German, twenty Italian, and twenty Spanish, fourteen Latin, twelve Arabic, eight Scotch, five Hebrew, four Chinese, two each of Dutch, Greek, Irish, “ Oriental,” Turkish, Gaelic, Creole, Persian, Moroccan, Sanskrit and Serbian, and one each of East Indian, Japanese, Manx, Walloon, Welsh, Finnish, Jamaica Negro, Haytian, Polish, Roumanian, Chilian, Russian, Cashmere, Syriac, Malay, Burmese, Marathi, Pashto, Tshi, Tamil, Ashanti, Batak, Tulu and Biblical. Two hundred and thirty collections of proverbs, of forty-five peoples, with many dialectical subdivisions! And the Boston library does not contain all there are.» — Prince declara lo que aprendió al preparar el capítulo, con el censo de colecciones que hizo en la Biblioteca Pública de Boston.

«In very few cases comparatively, is the author of a proverb known. Many of them are of great antiquity. Many, though not so many, have passed with but little change into several or numerous languages. Still it is probable that sometimes, when there is the appearance of this having been so, the same apt expression arose spontaneously and independently with several peoples.» — Prince consigna que el proverbio suele ser anónimo y que la coincidencia entre lenguas puede ser independiente: es el mismo argumento que usó con los poetas.

«Some of the adages can be traced directly to poets and other writers. But seldom are they in their original form; time has generally abbreviated them, made them clearer and more concrete. If we could trace the proverbs of popular origin to their first form we would probably find that in most cases they also have undergone change, that they consisted of sentences which passed on from mouth to mouth, dropped all unnecessary words and became rounded like pebbles of the seashore.» — Prince describe el desgaste que el uso hace sobre el proverbio, con la imagen del guijarro.

«Almost immediately after Patience Worth announced herself, especially as annoyed or stimulated by the wonderment, curiosity, and debate of persons present, and in impromptu response to utterances by others, she began to make replies, which in pith, wit, wisdom and generally in terseness, resemble the proverbs of old time, and compare favorably with them.» — Prince fecha el arranque de los aforismos y lo atribuye a la irritación de la propia comunicante ante las preguntas de la mesa.

«Some of them indeed contain superfluous words, such as time would wear away if they passed through the process that has been applied to the wise saws of former generations.» — Prince concede que a los aforismos les sobran palabras, y lo explica por no haber pasado por el desgaste del uso.

«They are given as originally recorded (unless marked “ abbreviated”), except that I deemed it unnecessary always to retain obsolete spellings or archaic forms of words, such as “ 0’ ” for of and “ be” for am where the latter word would be used today. No other alterations whatever have been made, and these are very slight and few, touching no essentials, but simply making more pleasing to the eye.» — Prince declara exactamente qué alteró en este capítulo: grafías obsoletas y formas arcaicas, y nada más.

«As time went on Patience Worth uttered fewer and fewer aphorisms of the character hereinafter exhibited. Whether this was because, the novelty ceasing, sitters displayed less astonishment and curiosity, became more accustomed to deport themselves as she appeared to wish (to let her go on in her own way instead of stopping her to ask what she regarded as foolish or relatively unimportant questions), so that she lacked the stimulus of the first early provocative conversations, or because she became more interested in other forms of literature, I cannot say.» — Prince registra el descenso en la producción de aforismos y enumera tres explicaciones posibles sin elegir ninguna.

«Let us put it, for one person to originate many scores of short sentences, ranging from rustic bluntness to philosophical depth and poetic beauty, all corresponding to the definition “ condensing in witty or striking form the wisdom of experience ” would be an extraordinary achievement. If not, who besides Patience Worth has done it?» — Prince plantea el desafío del capítulo en forma de pregunta, como hizo con los poemas.

«Martin F. Tupper spent a large part of his lifetime in writing “ Proverbial Philosophy.” To be sure, he hampered himself with hexameter, but he need not have done so, and within hexameter it is theoretically quite possible to meet the definition of a proverb. His results indeed were popular for a time, passing through many editions, but it is all the more noteworthy that no sentence of his passed into common speech, and no one seems to quote him.» — Prince mide el intento deliberado de Tupper por su resultado: ninguna de sus frases pasó al habla común.

«Omitting several “ proverbs ” plainly cribbed or imitated, these are the high-water mark of Tupper. There are not a dozen in all which can possibly qualify; many of his sentences may be wise enough, but they have not the mingling of wit or striking force with sagacity and terseness which gives the true proverb stamp.» — Prince da su juicio sobre Tupper y a la vez le concede talento y esfuerzo en la línea siguiente.

«Henry Ward Beecher was a man of marvelous fertility of expression, who spouted rhetoric because the rhetoric came as his natural tongue. A man named Drysdale went through his voluminous writings shortly before the great preacher’s death, to cull what he called the Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit. Just to test these I determined to select the best one on page 10, the best on page 20, and so on. There follow the most proverb-like utterances on the first five pages, so selected.» — Prince declara el procedimiento con que eligió los ejemplos de Beecher: uno por cada diez planas, para no elegir a favor de su tesis.

«Of these, Nos. 1 and 4 are certainly not proverbs at all; No. 2 approaches more nearly but is too complicated and hardly could be boiled down to proverb consistency ; the remaining two might pass, but the reader will compare them with the Patience Worth sayings and see if the latter have not an indefinable something—perhaps the flavor of seeming antiquity—which the former lack.» — Prince juzga los ejemplos de Beecher uno a uno y remite la comparación al lector, nombrando lo que atribuye a los otros: un aire de antigüedad que no sabe definir.

«The “Poor Richard” proverbs of Franklin, which long passed with many as his own, were like the furniture in a shop of antiques, drawn from various sources, sometimes intact and sometimes skilfully mended. Now and then an adage is quoted as though Franklin were the originator, when it can be traced for centuries and into a number of languages. Of all Americans, it would seem as though Franklin, both from his surpassing sagacity and from the homespun simplicity of his style, was the man to originate sayings of proverb quality out of whole cloth. I find no proof that, with all his interest in wise sayings, manifested in twenty years of “ Poor Richard ” almanacs, he did so, though he did some clever altering and patching.» — Prince objeta la atribución corriente de los proverbios de Franklin y declara no haber hallado señal de invención propia.

«While this study was being made a literary friend recommended me to look up the aphorisms of George Herbert. I did so, and found that they, too, were not his own, but his selections from the proverbial lore of the ages.» — Prince consigna otro intento de encontrar un aforista original y su resultado negativo, con la fuente del consejo.

«Mrs. Curran never, in her talk with or letters to me, showed any tendency to coin sentences of a proverb-like nature, and I have found no one who remembers of her uttering one before the advent of Patience Worth.» — Prince aporta la negativa medida sobre la propia médium: ni en su trato con él ni en el recuerdo de nadie hay aforismos anteriores.

«That she should be able, under the Patience Worth influence or in the Patience Worth state, to do impromptu, as flashes from the impact of utterances made by others, what is so exceedingly difficult for brilliant writers to do with deliberation and care, namely, to pour out sayings of proverb quality, pith, wisdom, flavor and brevity, fit to have come from the lips of a philosopher, a poet, a saint or a peasant (the last oftenest), places the problem of the subconscious, either as a transmitter or a generator, before us in more imperative terms than ever.» — Prince formula lo que el capítulo aporta al problema: la producción impromptu de aforismos aprieta la hipótesis subconsciente, sea como transmisora o como generadora.

«After each one I also present, for comparison, one or more proverbs found in the large Putnam collection, selected with regard to some point of contact, either of sense or of key word. The effort has been to select the best affording such a point of contact as I could find without more labor than could be spared.» — Prince declara el método de comparación del capítulo y su límite: el mejor proverbio que pudo hallar sin más trabajo del disponible.

«It may be that an unintended and unwarranted effect of this mode of selection upon some readers will be causing them to think that Patience Worth has derived many of her sayings from earlier ones. I did, indeed, make a resolute attempt to trace such organic connections, but have succeeded only in three or four instances, where Patience Worth made a frank adaptation of an old proverb.» — Prince advierte del efecto que su propio método puede producir en el lector, y da la cifra de las adaptaciones que sí encontró: tres o cuatro.

«It is difficult to find any of the old proverbs which have not their analogies in meaning, even though unique in form. And I am convinced that the great mass of Patience Worth’s sayings are original with her, despite the analogies which we must expect.» — Prince separa la analogía de sentido del préstamo, y declara su convicción sobre la originalidad del conjunto.

«THISTLE-DOWN Is AS RAINBOWS SPUN, YET FLAX THE LINEN MAKES.» — según el volumen, uno de los ciento setenta aforismos del capítulo, impreso en versalitas como todos.

«This is poetry without rhyme, but it is aphoristic, too. Many of the old folk-proverbs are expressed in rhyme, though few of them are poetry. The meaning is the same as in Handsome is that handsome does, which is a more concise expression, but far less pleasing.» — Prince compara ese aforismo con un proverbio inglés corriente y concede que el otro es más conciso; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana.

«WHEN MANNA FALLS, FILL THYSELF AND QUESTION NOT.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con el del caballo regalado.

«It would be most unsafe to say that the former sentence was suggested by the latter, since a thousand practical truths are expressed in similar ways in proverbial literature where there is not the least reason to suspect borrowing. But granting that it was, the turn given to the meaning is new and original.» — Prince aplica su regla de prudencia al caso más parecido a un préstamo del capítulo, y concede el punto sin conceder la conclusión.

«Patience Worth was annoyed again by her poetical outpouring of ethical material being dammed by the personal and petty remarks of the company. She sarcastically tells them to go ahead, regard trifles as of value and let the coin of higher value be corroded or ruined.» — Prince glosa el aforismo por su circunstancia: la mesa interrumpía y la sentencia es sarcasmo dirigido a ellos.

«To BREW A POTION, NEEDS MUST HAVE A POT.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a por qué eligió a Mrs. Curran como medio, dada como proverbio.

«This was said when Patience Worth was asked why she chose Mrs. Curran to express herself through. The meaning evidently is that the latter was somehow suited for the purpose.» — Prince glosa esa respuesta: la médium quedaría descrita como recipiente apto, y nada más.

«A WHIP IN TIME SAVES NINE. Of course we have here a humorous parody on A stitch in time saves nine.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que parodia un proverbio inglés conocido, con la identificación que Prince hace enseguida.

«AN OLD GOOSE GOBBLES THE GRAIN LIKE A GOSLING.» — según el volumen, el aforismo dirigido a una de las presentes.

«THE sALT OF TODAY WILL NOT SERVE TO CATCH THE BIRD OF» — según el volumen, el arranque del aforismo que da vuelta al dicho de la sal en la cola del pájaro; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«THE BELL-COW DOTH DEEM THE GOOD FOLKS GO TO SABBATH-HOUSE FROM THE RINGING OF HER BELL.» — según el volumen, el aforismo de la vaca cencerra, que Prince glosa como retrato de un animal de dos patas.

«THE DONKEY LOVETH HIS SONG.» — según el volumen, la versión propia de un proverbio corriente; Prince señala que el cambio de *bray* por *song* es lo que le añade humor.

«HE WHO RECEIVETH GRAIN THANKLESSLY DESERVETH BUT THE DUST FROM THE SAW.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la ingratitud, que Prince empareja con un proverbio antiguo sobre el agradecido.

«Over and over, with inexhaustible fertility, Patience Worth utters sentences of pith and tang to indicate what she regarded as the folly of wanting to know just who was being hit or just how the mechanical means of communication was operated, etc., instead of being absorbed in the communications themselves, But these sentences are capable of wider application.» — Prince nombra el motivo que se repite en decenas de aforismos: el reproche a la curiosidad por el mecanismo en vez del contenido.

«WASTE NOT THE PERFUME OF GOD’s GARDEN UPON JACKALS.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince declara original y a la vez en la misma clave que un versículo evangélico.

«CARDING COTTON DOES NOT WEAVE THE CLOTH,» — según el volumen, otro de los aforismos dirigidos contra la pérdida de tiempo de la mesa.

«To Gop THE FOOL AND BABE ARE DEAR.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con un dicho popular sobre los protegidos de Dios; el troceo imprime *Gop* por GOD.

«QuILLS OF SAGES WERE PLUCKED FROM GEESE,» — según el volumen, el aforismo cuya intención Prince declara no poder fijar: duda entre el sarcasmo y la sentencia general.

«I am not sure that this is not a sarcastic sentence, which an exclamation point should follow. A good deal of discussion had been going on during the evening, and Patience Worth may have meant to imply, probably only playfully, that not much wisdom was to be expected of such silly folk. Yet it could be interpreted to mean something like Wise men learn more from fools than fools from the wise.» — Prince expone su duda sobre ese aforismo y ofrece las dos lecturas posibles sin decidir.

«Ir THOU SHOULD’sT sEE HIs FACE ON MORROW’S BREAK, ’TWOULD BUT START A WAGGING [OF TONGUES].» — según el volumen, un aforismo cuyo complemento entre corchetes es del propio volumen.

«This aphorism was the swift retort to a remark that Patience Worth could not be the author of a metaphor in which the rosary was mentioned, on the ground that she had not been a Catholic. I remember a saying, not in Putnam, running I know more than a hen, although I cannot lay an egg.» — Prince reconstruye la circunstancia de la réplica sobre el rosario y añade un dicho que no está en su colección de referencia.

«THE PIGGIE WHO SCRATCHETH UPON AN OAK DOTH DEEM HIS FLEAS THE FALLING ACORNS’ CAUSE.» — según el volumen, la versión aforística de la imagen ya dictada en el table talk; Prince la remite a una sentencia de Bacon.

«N&’ER LEAP AFORE YE SEARCH.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince señala como adaptación consciente de un proverbio conocido; el troceo imprime el ampersand por la E.

«This certainly looks like a conscious adaptation of Look before you leap. Surely, if it were not a frank one—if there were an attempt to pass off something old as original, a less familiar saying would have been selected.» — Prince argumenta que la adaptación es franca y no encubierta, porque el proverbio de partida es demasiado conocido para ocultarlo.

«Gop BUT TUNED THE ASSES’ BRAY TO SOUND THE BRASSES OF HIS» — según el volumen, el arranque del aforismo que integra el rebuzno en la armonía divina; el troceo imprime *Gop* por GOD.

«PUDDINGS FIT FOR LORDS WOULD sOUR THE BELLY OF THE SWINE» — según el volumen, el arranque del aforismo que Prince usa para explicar por qué las analogías no son equivalencias; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Yet, as Patience Worth’s aphorisms are nearly all original—so far as I have been able to trace—in their verbal form, so they seldom have exactly the significance of the proverbs with which they may be compared. The Scotch adage just quoted means simply that what suits one man does not suit another, but that of Patience Worth declares that what is really superior in quality will be disagreeable to an inferior person.» — Prince distingue el sentido de los dos dichos que compara y muestra que no son el mismo, aunque se parezcan.

«FalTH BE THE PRICE OF PATIENCE.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con dos proverbios de forma parecida y sentido distinto.

«EarTH ATHOUT THE MERRY BE A HELL,» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la alegría, del que Prince aventura cuál habría sido su forma tras siglos de uso.

«THERE BE MANY WHO KNOW Wispom, BuT WISDOM KNOWETH FEW.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince declara abstracto frente al concreto del proverbio corriente.

«Worps FELL NO TREE. So it was said, T'alking pays no toll.» — según el volumen, uno de los aforismos más breves del capítulo, con el proverbio inglés que Prince le pone al lado.

«A FOOL BURNETH HIM TWICE, BUT A WISE MAN NEVER.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre el escarmiento, que Prince declara más expresivo que los dos proverbios con que lo compara.

«No MAN IS WEARIED SORER THAN HE WHO IS WEARY OF HIMSELF.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre el hastío de sí, para el que Prince no encuentra paralelo en su colección.

«WAIT UNTIL FOLLY MEETETH THEE; GO NOT AND SEEK IT.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con el dicho de no llamar al diablo.

«THE FOOL HARKS FOR THE GNAT’S FOOTFALL.» — según el volumen, otro de los aforismos contra la atención a lo menudo.

«EarTH Is FILLED UP WITH RESOLUTIONS.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con el dicho del infierno empedrado de buenas intenciones.

«THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ONE WHO RIDETH HIS TONGUE AND ONE WHOSE TONGUE RIDETH HIM.» — según el volumen, la distinción entre quien monta su lengua y aquel a quien su lengua monta.

«AN ASS WHO KICKETH A LUTE, DEEMETH ’TIs MUSIC.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con una frase proverbial latina que a su juicio no llega tan lejos.

«EacH MAN WRAPPETH HIS THOUGHT WITHIN HIS OWN EGOTRY [EGOTISM] AND CALLETH THE BRAT A NEW NAME,» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la novedad aparente del pensamiento propio; el corchete con la traducción de *egotry* es del volumen.

«A MAN sAITH “ THERE PASSETH A FOOL,” WHEN IT IS HIS OWN SHADOW FALLING UPON HIS BROTHER.» — según el volumen, el aforismo de la sombra propia tomada por necedad ajena, para el que Prince declara no haber hallado análogo.

«GIVE ME NOT WISDOM ENOUGH TO UNDERSTAND THE UNIVERSE, BUT FOLLY ENOUGH TO TOLERATE IT,» — según el volumen, la petición que invierte el pedido corriente de sabiduría.

«FEEDING WISDOM UNTO MEN AT TIMES IS LIKE UNTO SLAYING A GNAT WITH A CUDGEL.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la desproporción entre la sabiduría ofrecida y quien la recibe.

«SIN Is THE BRAT OF FOLLY.» — según el volumen, la filiación que el aforismo establece entre pecado y necedad.

«HuMILITY IS NOT A CLOUT FOR THE BEGGAR, BUT A KINGLY ROBE FOR THE MIGHTY.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que saca la humildad del registro del mendigo y la pone en el del rey.

«ForcGETTING Is A CLOUT FOR THE CONSCIENCE.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre el olvido como remiendo de la conciencia; el troceo imprime una c de más en la primera palabra.

«YESTERDAY IS, EVEN THOUGH SHE IS FORGOTTEN.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la persistencia del pasado.

«THE LEGS OF WISDOM ARE STILL BENT FROM CRAWLING.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que niega a la sabiduría la posición erguida.

«NIMBLE WORDS ARE NOT NIMBLE WITS.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que separa la agilidad verbal de la mental; Prince declara que aguanta la compañía de tres proverbios sobre lo mismo.

«You MAY NOT MEND A SPLIT HEAD BY BEING SORRY.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la inutilidad del arrepentimiento como remedio.

«MEET NOT THE TIDES, RATHER LIE IDLY AND AWAIT THEM.» — según el volumen, la versión aforística de una imagen ya dictada en el table talk.

«JEALOUSY IS THE BLADE THAT SLAYS LOVE.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre los celos, que Prince empareja invirtiéndolo con un proverbio corriente.

«WITH woRDS MAN BECLOTHES HIS WISDOM, WHILE HE SHIVERS» — según el volumen, el arranque del aforismo sobre la sabiduría vestida de palabras; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«No WISDOM IS A USEFUL THING SAVE IT HATH A PAIR OF HANDS THAT ARE FIT FOR WORKING.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que subordina la sabiduría al trabajo; Prince lo comenta con una sola palabra, pragmatismo.

«MAN’s INQUIRIES ARE THE PILLARS OF THE TEMPLE WHEREIN HE HOUSETH His Gop.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que hace de la pregunta el sostén del propio dios.

«THE BOBBIN’s STICKING MEANETH NAUGHT TO THE PATTERN,» — según el volumen, uno de los aforismos cuyo sentido Prince declara no poder fijar.

«I mean, of course, that the meaning and application of a few of Patience Worth’s proverbs are not immediately clear; the same is the case with many of the proverbs which we have inherited.» — Prince generaliza esa dificultad: la oscuridad de algunos aforismos es la misma de los proverbios heredados.

«First AFFIRM, FOR HE WHO HATH NOT KNOWLEDGE MAY NOT DENY.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que Prince empareja con una sentencia latina, y del que mide la economía verbal.

«Patience Worth really has said in 11 words what took the Latin sentence 16 and its translation 27.» — Prince cuenta las palabras de los tres enunciados para sostener su juicio sobre la concisión.

«MinD Is A BRAT SITTING BESIDE THE KNEE OF WISDOM, AND MAY NOT SPEAK TRULY, FOR IT HATH NOT LEARNED.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que sitúa la mente por debajo de la sabiduría, como niño que aún no aprende.

«I covutp Not pount Gop sAvE THAT I DOUBTED MAN.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que ata la duda sobre Dios a la duda sobre el hombre; Prince declara no haberlo hallado en ninguna otra parte. El troceo corrompe varias palabras del renglón.

«MAN LOSES THE ZEST OF THE GAME IN THE SORTING OF THE DISCUSES,» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la pérdida del juego en la clasificación de sus piezas.

«Harmony Is THE AMALGAMATION OF DISCORDS.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la armonía; Prince lo compara con una sentencia de Séneca y declara que la formulación de aquí es mejor.

«I HAVE OFTEN HEARD HOW WISE A BIRD THE OWL, BUT WHO HATH EVER HEARD A WISE THING IT HATH UTTERED?» — según el volumen, el aforismo que separa el silencio de la sabiduría.

«Dost THOU PRESENT A BRIARED PATH, THEN THE BABE SHALL BE-COME SCRATCHED.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la herencia de los defectos de los padres, que Prince empareja con el versículo de las uvas agrias.

«Have FAITH IN MEN BUT KEEP THINE EYE SLITTED.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la confianza con reserva.

«TRUST AND HOPE ARE STRANGERS,» — según el volumen, el aforismo que separa confianza y esperanza; Prince lo glosa por la vía de san Pablo.

«MovrNInc Is THE DECKING OF SELF.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre el duelo, que Prince glosa como reproche al que llora por sí mismo; el troceo corrompe la primera palabra.

«Fate Is A PUPPET OF MAN’S BUILDING.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que hace del destino obra del hombre.

«MAN’s TONGUE IS NO THRONE FOR Gop.» — según el volumen, uno de los aforismos que Prince lee como preferencia constante por el obrar sobre el hablar.

«No BEGGAR IS SO BLIND AS HE WHO HATH LOVE’S FINGERS ON HIS» — según el volumen, el arranque del aforismo sobre la ceguera del amor, que Prince pone por delante del verso de Shakespeare sobre lo mismo; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«HE Is NOT GREAT WHO HATH ATTAINED; GREATER FAR IS HE WHO STRIVETH FOR ATTAINMENT.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que pone el mérito en el esfuerzo y no en el logro.

«LEARNING Is THE PATH OF THE DAY, AND WISDOM THE PILLAR OF LIGHT WHICH GOES BEFORE.» — según el volumen, el aforismo que ordena aprendizaje y sabiduría como camino y columna de luz.

«Dovst Is THE FETTER OF MAN’S FREEDOM.» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre la duda como grillete; el troceo corrompe la primera palabra.

«DorTH THY DREAM REACH A LITTLE WAY BEYOND MAN’S NIGHT, WOE BEFALLS THEE,» — según el volumen, el aforismo sobre el precio de soñar por delante del tiempo propio.

«Wir Is THE BEAD OF THE WINE OF WISDOM.» — según el volumen, la versión aforística de una imagen ya dictada en la velada de composición por encargo.

«The cow licks the one that licks her ” has the exact significance of our “Scratch my back, and I will scratch yours,” but no one will allege that we got our proverb from the Zulus, or vice-versa.» — Prince ilustra con un par zulú-inglés su tesis sobre la coincidencia independiente entre proverbios de pueblos sin contacto.

«Almost never do Patience Worth’s sayings resemble the analogies which I have given so much as in the last two cases just cited.» — Prince acota su propia comparación: los aforismos que estudia se parecen a sus análogos menos que esos pares entre lenguas.

«On the evening of Nov. 10, 1917, Patience Worth dictated, within the space of about fifteen minutes, thirteen aphorisms, of which follow:» — Prince fecha y cronometra una tanda de trece aforismos dictados en unos quince minutos.

«Dead wisdoms spake by deader sages. 2. Wisdom consorteth with age and would that its brewster be a wraith full many a tide. 3. How may wisdom know wisdom without its winding-sheet and the scents of its mould. 4 Court wisdom with folly-singing ; I wot then wisdom will dance.» — según el volumen, los primeros cuatro aforismos de esa tanda, contra la autoridad de lo antiguo por antiguo.

«The cowl of wisdom knoweth not that its shadow weareth bells. 6. It taketh a mountain to trip a fool, yet a wise man falleth o’er a grain of sand. ”. Chastity needeth not a frock of virtue. 8. Honor knoweth the whip within the hand of no man. 9. Truth hath a dangerous sister, half her flesh—near truth.» — según el volumen, el resto de esa misma tanda, con la verdad y su hermana peligrosa entre ellos.

«The first three of the aphorisms immediately above express in different ways Patience Worth’s contempt for the supposition that a thought, prejudice or predilection is necessarily wise because it is old.» — Prince ofrece su lectura de los tres primeros: desprecio por la idea de que lo viejo sea sabio por serlo.

«The thirteen utterances of such quality within about a quarter of an hour constitute a tour de force either of swiftness of subconscious composition or of tenacious and swift recollection of previous subconscious composition.» — Prince acota lo que el episodio permite afirmar: velocidad de composición o de recuerdo, sin decidir cuál de las dos.

«The composition of adages which are not adaptations of or parodies on the old ones, and which, like them, compress into small» — primero de los seis pasos con que Prince resume el capítulo de los proverbios; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Since the general law is that the subconscious can occasionally surpass the feats of the conscious, but only in fields of effort where the conscious has shown aptitude or at least made effort or cherished desire to act, this mass of proverbial literature either evidences an external mind operating through Mrs. Curran’s subconsciousness or makes her an exceptional case, transcending previous authentic cases and contradicting what had seemed one of the conclusions of psychology.» — sexto y último paso del resumen: o hay una mente externa, o el caso contradice lo que la psicología tenía por establecido. La disyuntiva es la misma que cierra el libro.

«A month earlier a lady had stated that in her opinion the world had no “ adequate ” prayer of this sort, and asked P. W. to “ give one to the world which would be.” A hard task—that of surpassing all previous attempts of the kind!» — Prince consigna el encargo de una plegaria infantil y el tamaño de la tarea, con una exclamación suya.

«No sign was given in any word of P. W. that she cared to excel all others, but there is evinced a great desire to compose a prayer suited to a small child.» — Prince distingue lo que el registro muestra de lo que no: hay deseo de acertar con el niño y no de superar a nadie.

«It is a noteworthy fact that the marvellous fertility of invention and capacity for complex and lightning-swift thinking which enabled» — Prince introduce la excepción que le importa; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana, donde sigue con la demora, los tanteos y las correcciones de esta pieza.

«Although it may well be that P. W. had pondered during the month past somewhat on the task set her, yet there is much evidence in the record to come that the work of actual verbal construction took place at the time of the dictation.» — Prince concede la posibilidad de una preparación previa de un mes y aporta la razón por la que sostiene que la construcción verbal ocurrió en la sesión.

«I have already intimated what some of the indications were: It is particularly significant that the first attempt: “I am Thy little child; dear Father, I shall play,” is in lines each of three feet, but she changes to lines of four feet, like those of “ Now I lay me.”» — Prince apoya esa conclusión en un dato métrico: el primer intento va en trímetros y el resultado en tetrámetros, como la nana de oración conocida.

«Nay, I hae a taskin’ which be such a lovin’ one I be a-feared o’ it. It be a child’s prayin’.» — según el volumen, la explicación de la demora, dada por la propia comunicante.

«Woe is he who putteth but love within a babe’s utterance. Fear hath nae part. Yea, for to bring the great God down unto the whisperin’ lips, aye and disturb not the comin’ sleep with awe.» — según el volumen, la dificultad enunciada por la comunicante: meter a Dios en labios de niño sin miedo y sin temor reverencial.

«Let my throat sing a song that shall fall as a dove’s coo. Oh, make my throat dulcet, aye and my words as the touch of sleep. Give me the tongue, aye and the power of simplicity.» — según el volumen, la plegaria que la propia comunicante dirige a Dios antes de componer la del niño.

«T may not sing ‘O Lord’; for what babe knoweth the words’» — según el volumen, uno de los tanteos descartados: se rechaza una fórmula por incomprensible para un niño; el troceo abre con *T* donde el impreso lleva la comilla.

«Letters and words were slipping by in streams as though Patience was selecting from all the literature of time. Then Mrs. Curran saw a little child on the shore of a vast sea. Then this passed and the prayer came.» — el registro describe el proceso de composición y una imagen visual de la médium a mitad de él.

«I, THY CHILD FOREVER, PLAY AsoutT THY KNEES AT CLOSE OF DAY; Wituin Tuy arms I now sHALL CREEP AND LEARN THY WISDOM WHILE I sLEEP.» — según el volumen, la plegaria infantil en su forma final, aprobada por la propia comunicante.

«By adequate I presume she meant one which is brief, in verse, beautiful in language, suited by its simplicity of words and of thought to a child’s mentality, psychologically healthful and spiritually uplifting, incapable of affronting the child’s intellect, confusing its moral sense or playing havoc upon its emotions.» — Prince define el término que la solicitante no definió, y con eso fija los criterios con que se juzgará la pieza.

«is no such prayer in the wide world than I think the lady is, but at least I have never found any previous to P. W. which seems to me quite to fill the prescription as worded above. I have consulted all the promising titles in the Boston public library, and looked through many books containing prayers for children.» — Prince declara el alcance de su búsqueda y se abstiene de afirmar más que ella: no dice que no exista otra plegaria adecuada, dice que no la halló.

«This has several merits; it is short, simple in language, and passable if not good verse. But its content is small, and not of the best possible quality.» — Prince concede los méritos de la plegaria infantil más difundida en inglés antes de objetarla.

«It is of doubtful psychological expediency to make an imaginative and nervous child repeat every night expressions of the possibility that its soul may get away even if so lucky as to wake up in the morning, and of the likelihood of dying while sleeping.» — Prince formula la objeción de fondo: hacer que un niño repita cada noche la posibilidad de morir dormido.

«No recorded saying by Jesus is in sucha vein. He said: “ Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven,” and “ Except ye . . . become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven,”» — Prince apoya su objeción en dos dichos evangélicos, y en el hecho de que se pronunciaron ante niños.

«For generations children learned to recite hymns made specially for them by kind Dr. Watts, with such passages as these:» — Prince introduce, en nota, las estrofas de Isaac Watts que a su juicio hicieron daño.

«Is it any wonder that people, taught such things and with such imagery impressed upon their minds in childhood, become insane as Cowper did, or melancholics, wondering if they would manage to “ escape this dreadful end”?» — Prince cierra esa nota atribuyendo a esa educación casos de locura y melancolía, y nombra a Cowper.

«But there are exceptional children. And it would seem better, if possible, to devise a form which would suggest and build up vital and continual relation with the unseen Power, rather than a reliance upon that Power mainly in case of an emergency.» — Prince acota su propia objeción —pocos niños se dañan— y a la vez propone el criterio de la relación continua frente al recurso de emergencia.

«At any rate, it is not psychologically healthful to associate the thought of night with the emotion of fear.» — Prince reduce a una frase el principio con que juzga todas las plegarias del capítulo.

«This has what the more universal “ Now I lay me” has not, an expression of adoration and devotion. Nor is there any hint of apprehension in the prayer. But children are sometimes very literal and some, as soon as they learned the meaning of the word “heart ” and the location of that organ, might experience a wondering uneasiness concerning Jesus’s living in it.» — Prince reconoce la ventaja de la segunda plegaria y le pone enseguida su reparo, tomado del literalismo infantil.

«The verse, too, is not economical, in that it describes Jesus by three synonymous terms, “ gentle,” ‘ meek ” and “mild.” The repetition of terms implying the same moral quality, followed by the petition that the child may possess it, rather suggests that quiescent harmlessness is the acme of spiritual attainment.» — Prince objeta la acumulación de sinónimos y saca de ella una consecuencia doctrinal.

«This has the most concentrated amount of dogma in it, if one agrees with the dogma. But it appears to me to hold altogether too much of the doctrine of inborn sin. I maintain that it is psychologically more healthful for a small child to pray that he be kept good than that his sins be pardoned and that he may do less evil.» — Prince objeta la tercera plegaria por su carga de pecado original y formula la alternativa que prefiere.

«This may stand as representative of forms that fail if only for the reason that they pretend to be poetry, but lack the lilt and metrical evenness which are pleasing to childhood. Besides, one wonders if a child is won to love best by the implication that he is to be made to love.» — Prince descarta la cuarta plegaria por métrica y por una implicación que le parece falsa: que al niño se le haga amar.

«I may be hypercritical; very well, it may be that we shall eventually find a prayer to which even the hypercritical cannot reasonably object.» — Prince concede que puede estar hilando fino, y deja la cuestión abierta a un hallazgo futuro.

«My objection to this is that there is not enough in it; the thought is again narrowed too much to mere safety from that danger during sleep which as a rule is negligible.» — Prince objeta el himno infantil por estrechez de contenido y por la misma razón que las anteriores.

«Jesus’s way, as we have seen, was to implant in the child’s mind the thought that he is with his Saviour now, and now in “ the kingdom of heaven.”» — Prince opone al esquema de las plegarias que examina el que atribuye a los dichos evangélicos: el reino ahora y no después.

«A fairly adequate rendering in rhyme form, for which I am responsible, is: I am a child, My heart pure from sin; No one but Jesus May enter therein.» — Prince traduce él mismo la plegaria alemana y declara la traducción como suya, no como del original.

«If one objects to a little child being accustomed to look upon himself as an inevitable sinner, it does not follow that he approves of the» — Prince cierra el examen con el criterio que le queda; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana, donde sigue con el fariseo pequeño.

«This meets the condition of brevity, which we imposed upon all conditions for quotation. 2. It is as smooth and lilting as “ Now I lay me.” While not so absolutely uniform in meter as “ Jesus, tender shepherd,” the variations are such as are agreeable to the ear of a child rather than otherwise, and» — Prince empieza a examinar la plegaria dictada por los mismos criterios con que juzgó las demás; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana.

«Whether at the time of dictation (certainly there is the appearance that much of the work of actual construction was done then) or earlier, a great deal of thought went into the building of these four lines.» — Prince declara que hubo mucho pensamiento en las cuatro líneas y marca entre paréntesis su propia impresión sobre cuándo se hizo el trabajo.

«As it had three chances in each of three lines of coming elsewhere, and there were chances of its not occurring in one or other of the three lines, or of occurring somewhere in the first, it seems to me hardly likely that the exact prosodical duplication was accident.» — Prince argumenta contra el azar contando las posiciones posibles de la sílaba sobrante.

«P. W. realized the impossibility of fully achieving this ideal. She said: “How for to put within a babe’s lips, whom He loveth so, words for to tell unto Him the love which He hath bought from them? ”—the last clause being another way of saying “which they owe to Him.”» — nota de Prince que recoge la propia reserva de la comunicante sobre la tarea, y traduce su última cláusula.

«The chances are that a child would glimpse what “forever? means, having long assimilated “never” and later, probably, its contrary, “ever”; certainly better than he would grasp the metaphysical concept of “soul.”» — Prince compara el vocabulario de las dos plegarias por lo que un niño de cuatro años entendería.

«There is not a thought expressed which, if a child grows up to be a man of religious conviction, he will outgrow. He may come to question whether or not the “ holy angels ” pictured in Watts’s beautiful verse gather around his bed,—at least he will be very doubtful that angels correspond with the concept which children borrow from pictures—but his advance in knowledge will only make him the more assured that his mental and spiritual self may improve and advance during sleep.» — Prince aplica a la plegaria dictada un criterio que no aplicó a las otras: qué de ella tendría que abandonar el niño al crecer.

«Nor would even a Newton, who declared that he seemed to himself to have been all his life like a child gathering shells on the seashore, find anything beneath his dignity, if a religious man, in the idea that he is God’s child forever, playing about His knees, and creeping into His arms at close of day.» — Prince mide la plegaria por lo que un hombre de ciencia podría seguir diciendo sin rebajarse, y usa a Newton como caso.

«I conclude that of all prayers intended for children which I have discovered, this seems incomparably the best, that it is entitled to be * called a masterpiece, and that under all the circumstances of its composition, it constitutes a distinct and remarkable phenomenon in the case of Patience Worth.» — Prince formula su conclusión sobre la plegaria y la registra a la vez como pieza literaria y como fenómeno del caso.

«The first of these which I present, dictated at the close of an evening’s work, Feb. 1, 1916, is exactly as given, except that I have changed “ fulling ” to filling.» — Prince declara la única alteración que introdujo en la plegaria que sigue.

«O’ Days o’ Thee I’ve ta’en the filling o’ the measure; O’ men, the smiles; o’ earth, the tears; Of bloom, the sweet; of pain, the hurt; Of work, the tire; of song, the glad; Of all, and claimed it as mine own, And given naught but empty word. And woe hath set upon me!» — según el volumen, el arranque de la plegaria del 1 de febrero de 1916, construida sobre el inventario de lo tomado.

«It is probable that the variations in the spelling of a word, here and elsewhere (as of the word of), are often ascribable to the recorder or the typist. Almost certainly P. W. did not spell out “ upon” but ’pon.» — nota de Prince que atribuye las oscilaciones de grafía al que registraba o al mecanógrafo, y no a lo dictado: es un dato sobre el estado del propio texto que el libro imprime.

«Out frae the white o” lilies, clothe her. Out o’ its stored and glistenin’ gold, do treasure her. Pluck from out the deep blue, the steadfast sky, the opi’n unto depths, that it be hers. Leave Thou the sun at every dawn to shew his light upon the seekin’ shadows, that they shew their phantomness to her. “ Yet leave her woe. Ah, strip her not o’ this! Make full her cup, that she know Thy heights and depths. Ope up her heart and write Thee there. Nae promise o’ some golden realm as price; but write Thy words, and teach her lips to kiss the words.» — según el volumen, la plegaria dictada la víspera del bautizo de la niña adoptada, que pide expresamente que no se le ahorre el dolor.

«et the magic of Thy love descend, making the myriad sounds of love, creating the white flame which shall tip each utterance. Let Thyself flow like living water through this one.» — según el volumen, la plegaria compuesta para una escritora; el troceo corrompe la primera palabra del renglón.

«Great God, descend in a benediction upon this agony. Lift the weight of sorrow upon the wings of understanding. Create a perfect unison with Thee. Make today an instant, a careless instant, and ope the vista of tomorrow with its never-ending promise, with its new altar erected at which the taper burns.» — según el volumen, la plegaria por los que están de duelo, del 29 de julio de 1920.

«Oh, Divine One, touch with Thy love The mantle of earth which is woe; Transform its tatters with Thy magic. Oh, Divine One, dearest God, list. Leave [let] Thy brightness creep the shadows ; Make the midnight shine with Thy countenance. Oh, Divine One, make love, earth’s armor, strong, That it shall turn the blade of woe. Make Thou this pleading blessed with Thy listening.» — según el volumen, la plegaria por una mujer ciega; el corchete con la lectura *let* es del propio volumen.

«The word “stunt” is not in the best repute, and yet it is the most expressive one I know to stand at the head of this chapter.» — Prince justifica el término con que titula el capítulo de las proezas de composición.

«The inner dictator occasionally indulged her humor by feats of composition, some difficult only because of their swift, unhesitating delivery in the presence of a company, and some rising to heights of what antecedently would have been regarded as the impossible.» — Prince reparte las proezas en dos clases y reserva la palabra imposible para la segunda.

«I have known pale mornings When the listless leaves lapped lovering, When the weary winged birds whirled Wheeling toward the faint, faint stars. I have known pale mornings ere the sun came When a holy awe hung hovering Ere the curtain of the dawn revealed the sun And day, with her thousand, thousand trumpets, Came marching on!» — según el volumen, el arranque del poema aliterado del 31 de octubre de 1921, que Prince presenta como muestra de esa técnica.

«I have known the night, the steadfast, steady, Solemn, sacred night, star-studded, Moon-emblemed, serene, an holy altar At which I may worship in a sacred silence, Tipping the sable cup in sweet communion With that sire who silence keeps.» — según el volumen, el cierre del mismo poema.

«On March 24, 1921, Mr. Mukerji, a Hindu, was present among the guests. He quoted from the Upanishad, a paradox, asking Patience Worth to continue it.» — el volumen consigna el reto que un invitado plantea: continuar una paradoja de los Upanishads.

«It is simpler than the lapping wing Of a swallow upon the eve’s sky, Yet as intricate as the froth Which disperseth upon the air E’er the wave cease. Aye and its dew is salt As the sea’s drop and as bitter, Yet its sup is joy and the wine of youth.» — según el volumen, la continuación de esa paradoja; Prince aventura, marcándolo como sospecha, que el tema era la sabiduría.

«A fact which often astonished new guests was that Patience Worth always seemed to know where she had left off several days before in the construction of a novel or long poem. Sometimes, as would be the most natural and innocent thing to do, in connection with explaining the phenomena to newcomers, samples from the unfinished compositions would be read to them, but at other times the manuscripts were not on hand, and Mrs. Curran claimed not to know how they left off.» — Prince consigna el rasgo que sorprendía a los visitantes: la reanudación exacta de obras largas sin tener el manuscrito a la vista.

«This indicates extraordinary mnemonic ability on the part of Mrs. Curran consciously (and she has not such conscious ability) or on that of her subconsciousness, or that of—Patience Worth.» — Prince reparte esa capacidad entre las tres hipótesis del libro sin elegir, y descarta expresamente la consciente.

«One evening it appears that a certain unfinished work was called for in order that passages might be read to a visitor, but it proved to have been lent out of the house for some days before. Yet it was continued that night as uninterruptedly as usual.» — Prince aporta el caso concreto que a su juicio pesa: el manuscrito estaba prestado fuera de la casa esa noche.

«One evening when I was studying the case in St. Louis, Feb. 18, 1926, I tried an experiment to test if Patience Worth could improvise in the differing styles of her larger works at instant notice.» — Prince describe el experimento que él mismo montó en febrero de 1926: improvisar en los estilos de cada una de las obras largas.

«Behold, Panda, have I come forth from out Jerusalem, and from out the by-ways. I am fallen into the hands of them that stoned me, and I am filled with the wrath of my blood. For, behold, how may they lay hand upon a noble and worship Him who is of Nazareth? Lo, are His words naught, but they hang them together as a net and all men fall therein.» — según el volumen, el pasaje improvisado en el estilo de The Sorry Tale a petición de Prince; el arranque queda en la plana anterior.

«O, Child, the day is not as dry sands from the throat of the urn of Eternity. The day is the dew of creation, the manna, and the sup. Behold, the pot upon the wheel ; within its dust is yesterday, and upon its side is the light of today. Thy thirst is a common Thirst, and Humility is its answer.» — según el volumen, el pasaje improvisado en el estilo de otra de las obras largas, con la humildad como respuesta a la sed.

«Do get thee, Franco, for I be ettled for to stew and bake; for to set a-drip a joint and bastin’ o’er it; and thou, piddle o’er a pot of daub! Fetch thee unto the field and leave thy lift that it turn the sod. °Gad, Franco, thy labor is light, and thy folly is heavy. Get thee, I say, for Baba seeks at the noonin’ and shall find thee at thy turnin’.» — según el volumen, el pasaje improvisado en el estilo de Telka a petición de Prince, con los dos personajes en sus registros propios.

«On February 17, 1926, I suddenly asked Patience Worth to write lines beginning with all the letters of the alphabet except X in their order. We agreed that it was “a foolish task ” but she undertook it.» — Prince describe otro experimento propio: un poema abecedario pedido de improviso.

«The record is given exactly, except that I have supplied the word beginning with Y which the scribe inadvertently omitted. I think that “Yea” was the word.» — Prince declara la única palabra que él mismo restituyó del registro, y marca que es conjetura suya.

«All present were witnesses that no letter besides the impracticable X was omitted.» — Prince aporta el testimonio de los presentes sobre el cumplimiento de la condición.

«A task is Before me. Can I, O God, perform it? Dole me patience Enough that I be sustained, For I am indeed in need of strength. Give me, O God, thy grace. Hear my suppliance; I am a beggar for a crumb; Justly deal in mercy; Keep me within the pale of judgment. Leave me wit, that I may perform the duty; Make the task perfect, Neither constrained nor o’er done. O beloved God, keep tryst with me;» — según el volumen, la primera mitad del poema abecedario resultante, con una línea por letra; el troceo lo corta en el cambio de plana.

«Prithee give ear unto my prayer. Quiet the turbulence of my heart. Righteously shall I endeavor, Steeling me against the tongue of irony, That I suffer not upon the judgment of this. Upon me distil thine aid; Vouchsafe Thy succor. Wound not with thine indifference, Yea, this thy servant upon the path of folly, Zealously endeavoring that she follow a fool.» — según el volumen, la segunda mitad del mismo poema, cuyas dos últimas líneas califican el propio encargo.

«This was delivered at a speed regulated only by the ability of the scribe to take it down in shorthand.» — Prince cifra la velocidad de la dictación por el límite del taquígrafo, no por el de quien dictaba.

«Her opinion of the task to which she was set is evident from the last two lines.» — Prince señala que la propia comunicante califica el encargo dentro del poema que lo cumple.

«Mrs. Curran had the feeling that she could write with her own hand while composing something entirely foreign to the work of Patience and at the same time dictate a poem coming from Patience.» — el volumen consigna que la iniciativa del experimento de escritura simultánea salió de la propia médium.

«While Mr. Curran took the dictation of the following poem, entitled “ Will o’ the Wisp,” Mrs. Curran wrote a letter to Mrs. A. B. Smith at Los Angeles, Calif., with a lead pencil, dictating the poem to a great extent even while she was scribing the letter to Mrs. Smith. It was a very tense moment. The experiment was entirely successful.» — Prince describe el montaje del experimento y declara su resultado, con el destinatario y la ciudad de la carta.

«shall set a wee whit o’ a singin’ while she sets the bannock.» — según el volumen, el comentario con que la comunicante anuncia el experimento; el troceo corrompe la primera palabra del renglón.

«Oh you marshlight, flashing across the marshes, beckoning! Is thy light that I see a beacon to tomorrow? Give me a sign, oh, you banshee! Give me a sign! Make tomorrow’s question marked against the sky Fitfully, as thy flash, oh you marshlight flashing, Then shall I be more accustomed to the questioning that I live.» — según el volumen, el arranque de Will o’ the Wisp, dictado mientras la médium escribía a mano una carta distinta.

«Dear Dorsir: I am writing you while I write a poem. It is a new trick. Do you like it? See here honey, my hands are full! I don’t like it, honey. It’s like baking bread and stirring soup! I am sick of the job. I wish you were here and that we could go over this together. This is a mess of a letter, honey bug. I’m nuts! This is some chase! Slinging slang and purring poetry! Jack is doing his best in this Marathon. This is fine business and I’m up against it. “ Finis ” honey, and I call it going some! PEARL.» — según el volumen, la carta que Mrs. Curran escribió de su puño durante esa misma dictación; el contraste de registro entre las dos piezas es el dato del experimento.

«There are evident signs in the letter that the writer’s attention is divided. But it would be, even if an external intelligence were dictating the verses.» — Prince consigna el defecto del experimento y aclara que también se daría si la dictación viniera de fuera: no lo usa como argumento.

«Many persons would be unable to write any more intellectual sentences in a letter if all that disturbed them was being the cynosure of all eyes.» — Prince enumera las operaciones simultáneas y añade la que a menudo se pasa por alto: escribir mientras todos miran.

«The experiment was surely interesting as showing how many operations could be carried on by or through the writer’s brain at the same time.» — Prince acota lo que el experimento muestra —cuántas operaciones caben a la vez— y no lo extiende a la cuestión del origen.

«She dictated 100 words of the Merry Tale, then immediately gave 200 words of Samuel Wheaton, then about 50 words of the M erry Tale, and finally 1600 of Samuel Wheaton. But the most peculiar thing was that, as the record informs us, she “ tried to make the breaks between the stories fit so closely that one character in one story seemed to reply to the character in another story, which caused a great deal of amusement and pleasure.» — Prince cifra el entrelazado de dos novelas en una sola velada, con la cita del propio registro sobre el ajuste entre los cortes.

«Hi, Hi, Hi! Ye lout-legged, fetch a nag, and be ye sure that his back be not curved as a new moon!” And they brought forth a nag crusted of ice and snortin’ mists unto the crisped airs and Cato raised o’ the laddin and set him straddle o’ the nag’s back. (S. W.) “Take the wheel, yer lordship. I’m tellin’ ye I’m uppin’ anchor.” And Samuel Wheaton saluted and moved toward the door. (M. T.) And Cato upped o’ his legs and swung him free o’ the snaws, setting wi’ his arm *bout the form of Quando. (S. W.) And lifted the oaken latchet and looked without. (M. T.) And he sped o’ the nag and made him swift o’er the snaw’s crust. (S. W.) Then she turned and called up the stairway: “ Lathrop, Lathrop!” (M. T.) “ E-o-o! E-o-o! Down the draw, and danged be he who first says stop!» — según el volumen, el pasaje en que las dos novelas se alternan renglón a renglón, con las siglas de cada una delante.

«The poem, I trust it is not necessary to urge, is beautiful. It depicts with the brush of an artist what happens when one rarely sets his mind searching through the inner vaults, setting loose memories long imprisoned. Sad memories, forlorn memories, of blunder and fault, of misunderstanding and injury, and vestiges of things that ought to have been done and were not and of things which ought not to - have been done but were, come trooping forth like wan-faced children. Out of all reach of the present, they seem to weep hauntingly, seeking consolation, but their woes are irremediable.» — Prince glosa el poema entrelazado y describe lo que a su juicio retrata: las memorias soltadas de sus prisiones.

«Quite by chance, at this moment my eyes fell upon another little poem, called “ Threnody.” It runs: On an evening of black snow I walked along the causeway, Wishing that I too might melt Between the agitated fingers» — Prince introduce una comparación que dice haber encontrado por casualidad; el troceo corta el poema en el cambio de plana.

«Probably not a single reader, supposing that this also is by Patience Worth, would not pronounce “ Memories of Long Ago” incomparably superior. I doubt if one would give “ Threnody ” a high rank among the poems of Patience Worth which are printed in this book. But it was written by Amy Lowell, and was considered good enough to publish in The Unpartizan Review of Jan.-Mar., 1921.» — Prince monta otra vez el experimento de atribución falsa y luego revela que la pieza es de Amy Lowell, con la publicación y la fecha.

«Of course, as soon as we learn that Miss Lowell, who has been so fortunate as to win public favor, was the author of “ Threnody ” we look at it again and begin to discover beauties—I was conscious of doing this myself. “Black snow,” we murmur— how striking!” [sotto voce, so is “purple cow”]. And we discover the really fine» — Prince describe el efecto del nombre sobre su propio juicio y se incluye entre los afectados, con una burla entre corchetes de su propia entonación; el troceo corta la frase en el cambio de plana.

«But let us hold to our judgment that “ Memories of Long Ago” is poetry greatly superior to “ Threnody.” Literature is what it is, regardless of nausea at ouija boards or the idea of spirits, and equally regardless of New England Brahmanistic caste.» — Prince sostiene su juicio comparativo y nombra los dos prejuicios que a su parecer lo estorban: el tablero y la casta literaria de Nueva Inglaterra.

«Neither let us forget that Patience Worth did not, like Amy Lowell, write at her leisure in the trance-like seclusion and stillness of a luxurious study, but dictated before a company of fifteen persons, among whom were doctors and \} clergymen, passed immediately from the composition of a story to the “poem, and, moreover, mingled it in extraordinary fashion with the } ~ continuation of a medieval tale.» — Prince suma a la comparación las condiciones de producción de una y de otra, con la cifra de los presentes.

«Even if we assume that the constituents had been subliminally composed before the meeting began, still, as a feat of memory and of mental gymnastics, it would rank as an extraordinary one. William Marion Reedy called it “an unparalleled performance.”» — Prince concede la hipótesis de la composición subliminal previa y sostiene que aun así el episodio es notable; añade el juicio de Reedy.

«This very question, whether Patience Worth could compose two pieces of extreme dissimilarity in subject and style, with the possibility of previous cogitation excluded by the fact that both subject and general style were prescribed by another person directly prior to the beginning of dictation, I determined to test.» — Prince formula la pregunta exacta que su experimento pretende decidir, con la condición que la vuelve concluyente: los dos temas los pone él.

«Well, now, Patience, I am going to propose something, but something I consider entirely unreasonable. If you think otherwise, go to it. It is a variation of what you have already done. And, as long as I don’t suppose that you are God Almighty, I shall not think the worse of you if you decline, and say it is unreasonable. But the suggestion is that you will dictate something in the way of a dialogue, breaking off every little while and giving a line of poetry in modern style, and so on alternately, until the poem is completed. You did this once spontaneously. I would like to see if you can do so at request, with the subject of dialogue, and the subject of the poem given by me. And I will say frankly, Patience, that I think when you did this before, you must have previously planned and rehearsed your performance to yourself. I do not believe that any human mind can successfully do it—that is, keep the connection perfect in the two sets. Do you think you can do it?» — el volumen imprime el planteamiento de Prince tal como lo tomó el taquígrafo, con su declaración de que no cree que ninguna mente humana pueda hacerlo.

«What has been done, can be done; so go ahead.» — según el volumen, la respuesta entera de la comunicante al reto.

«Any kind of conversation between a lout and a wench, at a Fair. The subject for the poem is: The Folly of Atheism.» — el volumen consigna los dos temas que Prince impuso, uno en dialecto y otro doctrinal.

«I feel as though my head were in a steel vice; and I have a feeling as though I just were not there; as though I were under gas.» — el volumen registra lo que Mrs. Curran declara sentir durante el experimento, y lo imprime junto al resultado.

«About eight seconds elapsed between my announcement of the subjects and the beginning of dictation, which proceeded uninterruptedly to the end, about as rapidly as it could be taken down.» — Prince cronometra el intervalo entre el enunciado de los temas y el arranque de la dictación.

«Who doubts his God hath but announced His own weak limitation ; Hath tied his hand and fettered of his foot. To doubt thy God is but to stop The everlasting flow of mercy, To die of thirst and lose thee In the chaos of thyself.» — según el volumen, la segunda mitad del poema sobre el ateísmo una vez separado del diálogo con que iba entrelazado.

«Is there any mark in this indicating haste, or hinting that another composition of widely differmg subject, mood and style was proceeding either simultaneously or in instant alternation? Is there any dislocation of language therein, any hiatus of thought? Is there any lack of meat in the lines, of valid and forceful meaning?» — Prince somete el resultado a cuatro preguntas seguidas, en vez de declararlo bueno.

«Note the adroit introduction of the word lout from the theme given for the other composition, as much as to say that the doubter of God is also an awkward blunderer, a shallow bumpkin. The last four lines are magnificent, sweeping as they do from the stopping of the stream of mercy in Heaven to the fall into the crater of doom on earth.» — Prince señala el detalle que a su juicio ata las dos composiciones: la palabra impuesta en un tema aparece dentro del otro.

«Ha’e ye seen the mummers settin’ up a puppet show athin the fieldin’ ? She. Aye, I see’d ’em fetchin’ past, and buyed o” a ribbon and a new latchet, and a shoon bucklin and tasseled thongs. He. Aye, and I fetched me a whistle, and heared the doings of the village—that Mark, the smithy [smithier, obsolete for smith? ] haed a new wench, and she be heft [probably equivalent to hefty, heavy, meaning gravid |. She. Aye, a wide tale [dialectical pronunciation of weighed, obsolete or archaic for worthy of notice. Perhaps, however, the word “wide” means simply big, as in the term that survives “ wide world ”]. I heared it, but heeded it nae, I bein’ feastin’ ’pon the new thong. He. Weel, gad! Did ye see the dominie wi’ his new breeks, and a sabba’ shirt? She. Weel, can ye heed it—and him at the fair? A wide tale, eh?» — según el volumen, el diálogo de feria una vez separado del poema, con los corchetes glosarios que el propio volumen añade.

«I shall not contend that all this represents a historically valid dialect of England, though I fancy that we know less of certain of the county dialects than some people think. There were not many writers on hand in the seventeenth century to embalm for us the actual rustic speech as Dickens did the dialect of Yorkshire in the nineteenth.» — Prince acota lo que no sostiene sobre el dialecto y añade la razón por la que el cotejo es difícil: faltan registros del habla rústica del XVII.

«I am tempted to place among the “ stunts ” Patience Worth’s response to my proposal on February 15th, 1926, that she dictate on the subject “ The Toad and the Fly.” At least I thought at the time: “ What can she do with such a subject?» — Prince consigna su propia reacción al proponer un tema que le parecía impracticable.

«Wattled, blink-eyed, rested ’pon a lily-pad of ease; Sunnin’ neath a golden sun, baskin’ neath a frost-white moon; Lollin’, easeful, gazin’ at the stars, he sits, hungered. An instant’s whirr; a dartling fly—seeketh and is gone. How like to Wisdom!» — según el volumen, la respuesta al tema *the toad and the fly*, que remata comparando al sapo con la sabiduría.

«From the first Patience Worth announced herself to be a “ singer ” of messages of spiritual and ethical import, a “ prophet ” in the scriptural sense of the term (though she never has applied it to herself), employing various forms of literary speech to persuade and convince her hearers of truths which to them are ofttimes clouded and ineffective, but which to her are the very laws of the spiritual universe, and which when once clearly realized and acted upon, transform the “day” of man.» — Prince describe el papel que la comunicante se atribuye desde el principio, y anota entre paréntesis que ella misma nunca usó la palabra profeta.

«Although before her coming there had purported to be messages from various relatives of persons present with the usual references to their earth life, she from the start made it understood that all such personal questions regarding herself were of little consequence, and that attention should be directed to her “ singing.”» — Prince distingue lo que había antes —mensajes de parientes— de lo que se instaló después, y sitúa el cambio en la propia comunicante.

«Her sharpest sarcasm was in the first days when those present persisted in interrupting her with questions of curiosity regarding her earth life.» — Prince fecha el sarcasmo más duro y lo explica por las preguntas de curiosidad biográfica.

«The giving of “ evidence ” in the ordinary way of psychic research gives her little concern. Her mental entity and individuality, she maintains, is to be found in her utterances. She feels that no one can reasonably hold that these utterances of such quality and with such content can come solely from some stratum of Mrs. Curran’s mind, or that an embodied intellect can perform some of the mental feats which she has performed. Yet it is evident that this theory can be held, since it is.» — Prince expone la posición de la comunicante sobre lo que valdría como evidencia, y añade en la misma frase que la hipótesis que ella descarta se sostiene de hecho.

«From the first she has disclaimed being a bearer of personal or evidential messages from other spirits. But it was certain that questions would be divea her regarding spirits, and spirit manifestations.» — Prince consigna el deslinde que la comunicante hace de sí frente al oficio de médium de mensajes.

«Are our friends that have gone before, near us and around us?” P. W.: “ Yea, yea, the Here lappeth thy lands even as the young waves lap the shore.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al clérigo Dr. H. sobre la cercanía de los muertos.

«Do you advise that we should make efforts to communicate? ” P. W.: “It shall be that the heavens shall give up unto the earth that that shall ope their blinded eyes more, more, more. *Tis well; thou shouldst call.» — según el volumen, la respuesta que autoriza el intento de comunicación.

«That is, according to Patience Worth, “ Heaven ” is in contact with earth, our deceased friends are near and love us, some of us are so constituted as to become conscious of them, and it is allowable to see if we can get into communication with them.» — Prince resume en prosa llana la doctrina que extrae de esas respuestas, y la declara consistente con otra de año y medio antes.

«Be it aright for thee to sup o’ drop be ye athirst?» — según el volumen, la respuesta a si es lícito insistir en comunicarse, dada como pregunta.

«What do ye to prate? I tell thee I be me and ’tis ahere the words o’ me aput. Think ye the earth aholdeth none save those atrack ’pon clay?» — según el volumen, la respuesta a si hay otros espíritus presentes, que Prince lee como afirmación implícita.

«If through love thou hast beheld Eternity; aye, and in service have come upon a fulfilment of an empty day, then is the thing fit as bread. But dost thou turn the grist of instants to a thing which hath as its pith self, then thou hast produced chaff.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a Mrs. Graff sobre si debía seguir usando el tablero: se condiciona a lo que produzca, no se prohíbe ni se recomienda.

«If I understand her, she means that a test at the same time pragmatic and altruistic should be applied. If in love and with view to eternity it helps enrich life, go on; but if the results are only personal gratification, they are not worth while.» — Prince ofrece su lectura de esa respuesta marcada como tal, y la formula como criterio doble, pragmático y altruista.

«Is there a concerted movement on your plane to communicate with earth? ” P. W.: “Ne’er, ne’er shalt heaven ope to earth. The seed ahead be but seed.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a si hay un movimiento concertado desde el otro lado; Prince la llama críptica en la línea siguiente.

«This rather cryptic response seems to me to mean that no such overpowering demonstration as some people dream of will ever come, but only the seeds from which conviction may spring in the minds of some.» — Prince declara no estar seguro del sentido y ofrece el suyo: nunca habrá demostración abrumadora, solo semillas.

«Over and over she says that the possibility of getting intelligible messages from the “ Here” (from her point of view) depends partly upon the make-up of the person on earth. The spirit may “ throb” to communicate, and the earthly person may not possess the capacity to “throb” responsively.» — Prince resume la doctrina de la capacidad receptiva como condición de la comunicación.

«Nay, nay. Thou knowest that there may be but the music that throbbeth, that one o’ Here may speak to thee o’ the There. . .. And them o’ Here fret that they make known unto them 0’ earth, and be there nothing that throbbeth, lo, then the smiting.» — según el volumen, la respuesta sobre los golpes que Mrs. R. oía en su cuarto: los ruidos se explican como recurso ante la falta de sintonía.

«But she disapproves, apparently, of looking to spirits to get one out of trouble, or of looking to them generally for guidance and help.» — Prince marca con un *apparently* el límite de lo que atribuye a la comunicante en materia de dependencia de los espíritus.

«Mine ain, list: Them that go hae finished o’ their taskin’, and be jealous o’ thee for thine. *Tis thine! Gied at the hand o’ Him unto thee. Think ye that He in His wisdom might send thee an aid? I say me there be nay aid save love. Thy task is thine.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a quien preguntaba si el espíritu de un amigo lo ayudaba: se niega toda ayuda salvo el amor.

«The pack that I bear is but that that He hath delivered unto my trembling hands, sirrah, and He delivers the pack unto him He would. The task that be mine be but the singin’ o’ love, and thine even so. Oh, with thy hand within His who walked with sure tread following but His sheep unto the Heavens; with thy hand in His, what need hast thou to» — según el volumen, la respuesta al clérigo que preguntaba qué individualidad lo guiaba; el troceo la corta ante un signo suelto del escaneo.

«Yet, while people must not be weaklings, looking to spirits to help them at every turn, Patience Worth does not deny that spirits do help. But she intimates that in the occupations of the spiritual world there is no general desire to send messages, save when these promise real help.» — Prince acota su propia formulación: no se niega la ayuda de los espíritus, se niega el deseo general de mandar mensajes.

«E’en while the mither’s hand swingeth the thornwood cribbie and her heart be pinioned ’neath its cover lid, how doth she labor? Yet doth she!» — según el volumen, la respuesta a cómo pueden los del otro lado trabajar y acompañar a la vez; Prince la llama ingeniosa y posiblemente explicativa.

«Again she answered: “I am consecrated to a holy troth. Neither have I detoured from the path.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a si hablaba también por otras personas.

«I did to speak unto thee and thee and thee and thee, and thou ne’er harked.» — según el volumen, la respuesta al Dr. W. sobre si algún espíritu le hablaría; Prince anota enseguida que la respuesta cuadra con las otras si se supone que dejó de intentarlo.

«Look ye,” she said, “I be nay dealer in wraiths.» — según el volumen, la respuesta a un episodio de aparición contado por dos personas.

«Many of us have found great interest in the communications of W. T. Stead in the letters of Julia, of Sir Oliver Lodge in Raymond, in Basil King and others. Can Patience Worth assure us that all that is true in these comes to us in the same way from the immortal world?» — el volumen registra la pregunta de un asistente sobre otros casos célebres de comunicación, con los nombres de sus protagonistas.