Item 01: Henry Weston Pryce diary, May 1916-ca. 1918 - Page 133
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[Page 133]
(From de Bosschère.)
One who has seen the fields of Flanders with an artist's eyes can never again know peace of mind unless he takes the refuge Truth offers. It is easy enough. Meet with and acclaim her here and she will lead you to the Door of Madness. There you are happy. But refuse to meet her, go out into the dark, and grovelling, wallowing with the Jungle Beasts, forfet that Truth. Lives Remain Sane - but be forever cursed by Memory. (J de B)
Rovanne, the Poet, is quite Insane
No more he sings like a silver bell
He has torn the robe of the Muse in twain
And prisioned her deep in the Outer Hell,
No more his fancy in Sunshine flits
Where warm winds play with the shining leaves
But deep in the Dungeons of Truth he sits
And webs of horror his fancy weaves.