13/7/1959 - Since you will not let me see you

The poems continue almost daily, but the content of today's poem make it clear that Marianne's visits to Jon Ash bookshop had dwindled in frequency. And when she did come to the shop, it was briefly, and with a companion. Do we assume the intensity of Mr Nash's poetry had become too much for Marianne? Regardless, he continued writing poems for her. And these poems of sadness and emptiness are in Marianne's possession, so she must have continued her visits to receive them when buying a book from his shop.

This poem has the double tick, indicating Mr Nash would like it published one day, and it's numbered 17, detailing the order he would like them published in. I'm adding them to the blog in date order however (where we have a date), as I think they tell a fuller story this way. Of a bookshop owner infatuated with one of his customers, to the point where it seemed to take up a large part of his daily thoughts and dreams, and the lack of acknowledgement was driving him to distraction... But how could he expect her to reciprocate? She was just 23 at this point, and undoubtedly a shy 23-year old still living at home. He was over 30 years older than her, married, with children the same age as her. Perhaps he just wanted a muse for his poetry?

Since you will not let me see you
- Your fleeting visits once a week
Sometimes with some one else
I may not countenance, for then perforce
I am with others' wants engaged -
I look for you in all things beautiful
And glimpse, now here, now there,
The faintest shadow of yourself
In flowers, faces, trees and skies
And from these wring some measure
Of your loveliness, that I might live
From hour to hour until we meet again.
Thoughts are but thoughts though they
Are with me night and day
And dreams are too intangible for me.
Those pictures in my mind which come
So easily, do but torment in their passivity
For you are your eyes, your lips,
Your voice, your matchless laugh,
Your personality, that makes all music
Murmurings, and poetry a needless sigh.
So, of your charity, come soon, come soon,
And save this all that's good in me
For, starved for a sight of you,
It must most surely die

13th July, 1959