Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 109.djvu/694

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The Yellow Bowl
681

at the unembittered keenness of the author's mind, for the gentle understanding that accompanies her clearness of vision is not found often in people who ‘see through’ things. Miss Sedgwick goes further than the ordinary satirist, and sees through even her own cleverness, into that deep need of humanity—under all foibles, limitations, vanities—for sympathy.

The Yellow Bowl


By Lily A. Long


When first the Manchu came to power,
A potter made this yellow bowl,
With quiet curve and border scroll,
And here inlaid the imperial flower.
The peace of art was in his soul.
Had not the Manchu come to power?

Upon the flaky yellow base
That now is dull and now is bright,
A flowering branch, a bird alight,
Expressed his thought in formal grace.
Had not disorder taken flight
And left for art a quiet place?

And then, the artist sense alight,
He drew upon the yellow bowl
The symbol of the restless soul,
A butterfly, in poised flight.
For though the Manchu was in power,
The soul must wake when strikes the hour.