Summer 1959 • Vol. XXI No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 1959 |

La Victoire de Samothrace

Who shall mount these steps and stone by stone Confront her turning in the wide light And shadows of infinite spaces? She is a bloodless column. Reason Persuades her that a cold hand sunders Breath and body from her harmonies. Who shall come to read her proud music With a frail map of his own body Marked by symbols for his blind terrors? Where the air keeps her she is one thing Driven from time unless her glory Sounds against the chambers of his mind. Breast, bone, and wings come to exalt him Who shall surrender her to discord In a warm dream of his own triumph.

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Christmas at Ulm

By Melvyn Baron

Who shall mount these steps and stone by stone Confront her turning in the wide light And shadows of infinite spaces? She is a bloodless column. Reason Persuades her that […]

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