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demos bug fix

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  7. +6 −1 src/swipeview.js
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3,341 demo/ereader/alice.txt
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+THE FLOWERS OF EVIL
+
+by
+
+CHARLES BAUDELAIRE
+
+TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE BY CYRIL SCOTT
+
+LONDON
+
+ELKIN MATHEWS, VIGO STREET
+
+M CM IX
+
+DEDICATED TO ARTHUR SYMONS
+
+
+
+
+ CONTENTS
+
+ Benediction
+ Echoes
+ The Sick Muse
+ The Venal Muse
+ The Evil Monk
+ The Enemy
+ Ill-Luck
+ Interior Life
+ Man and the Sea
+ Beauty
+ The Ideal
+ The Giantess
+ Hymn to Beauty
+ Exotic Perfume
+ La Chevelure
+ Sonnet XXVIII
+ Posthumous Remorse
+ The Balcony
+ The Possessed One
+ Semper Eadem
+ All Entire
+ Sonnet XLIII
+ The Living Torch
+ The Spiritual Dawn
+ Evening Harmony
+ Overcast Sky
+ Invitation to a Journey
+ "Causerie"
+ Autumn Song
+ Sisina
+ To a Creolean Lady
+ Moesta et Errabunda
+ The Ghost
+ Autumn Song
+ Sadness of the Moon-Goddess
+ Cats
+ Owls
+ Music
+ The Joyous Defunct
+ The Broken Bell
+ Spleen
+ Obsession
+ Magnetic Horror
+ The Lid
+ Bertha's Eyes
+ The Set of the Romantic Sun
+ Meditation
+ To a Passer-by
+ Illusionary Love
+ Mists and Rains
+ The Wine of Lovers
+ Condemned Women
+ The Death of the Lovers
+ The Death of the Poor
+
+
+
+
+Benediction
+
+
+ When by the changeless Power of a Supreme Decree
+ The poet issues forth upon this sorry sphere,
+ His mother, horrified, and full of blasphemy,
+ Uplifts her voice to God, who takes compassion on her.
+
+"Ah, why did I not bear a serpent's nest entire,
+ Instead of bringing forth this hideous Child of Doom!
+ Oh cursèd be that transient night of vain desire
+ When I conceived my expiation in my womb!"
+
+"Yet since among all women thou hast chosen me
+ To be the degradation of my jaded mate,
+ And since I cannot like a love-leaf wantonly
+ Consign this stunted monster to the glowing grate,"
+
+"I'll cause thine overwhelming hatred to rebound
+ Upon the cursèd tool of thy most wicked spite.
+ Forsooth, the branches of this wretched tree I'll wound
+ And rob its pestilential blossoms of their might!"
+
+ So thus, she giveth vent unto her foaming ire,
+ And knowing not the changeless statutes of all times,
+ Herself, amid the flames of hell, prepares the pyre;
+ The consecrated penance of maternal crimes.
+
+ Yet 'neath th' invisible shelter of an Angel's wing
+ This sunlight-loving infant disinherited,
+ Exhales from all he eats and drinks, and everything
+ The ever sweet ambrosia and the nectar red.
+
+ He trifles with the winds and with the clouds that glide,
+ About the way unto the Cross, he loves to sing,
+ The spirit on his pilgrimage; that faithful guide,
+ Oft weeps to see him joyful like a bird of Spring.
+
+ All those that he would cherish shrink from him with fear,
+ And some that waxen bold by his tranquility,
+ Endeavour hard some grievance from his heart to tear,
+ And make on him the trial of their ferocity.
+
+ Within the bread and wine outspread for his repast
+ To mingle dust and dirty spittle they essay,
+ And everything he touches, forth they slyly cast,
+ Or scourge themselves, if e'er their feet betrod his way.
+
+ His wife goes round proclaiming in the crowded quads--
+"Since he can find my body beauteous to behold,
+ Why not perform the office of those ancient gods
+ And like unto them, redeck myself with shining gold?"
+
+"I'll bathe myself with incense, spikenard and myrrh,
+ With genuflexions, delicate viandes and wine,
+ To see, in jest, if from a heart, that loves me dear,
+ I cannot filch away the hommages divine."
+
+"And when of these impious jokes at length I tire,
+ My frail but mighty hands, around his breast entwined,
+ With nails, like harpies' nails, shall cunningly conspire
+ The hidden path unto his feeble heart to find."
+
+"And like a youngling bird that trembles in its nest,
+ I'll pluck his heart right out; within its own blood drowned,
+ And finally to satiate my favourite beast,
+ I'll throw it with intense disdain upon the ground!"
+
+ Towards the Heavens where he sees the sacred grail
+ The poet calmly stretches forth his pious arms,
+ Whereon the lightenings from his lucid spirit veil
+ The sight of the infuriated mob that swarms.
+
+"Oh blest be thou, Almighty who bestowest pain,
+ Like some divine redress for our infirmities,
+ And like the most refreshing and the purest rain,
+ To sanctify the strong, for saintly ecstasies."
+
+"I know that for the poet thou wilt grant a chair,
+ Among the Sainted Legion and the Blissful ones,
+ That of the endless feast thou wilt accord his share
+ To him, of Virtues, Dominations and of Thrones."
+
+"I know, that Sorrow is that nobleness alone,
+ Which never may corrupted be by hell nor curse,
+ I know, in order to enwreathe my mystic crown
+ I must inspire the ages and the universe."
+
+"And yet the buried jewels of Palmyra old,
+ The undiscovered metals and the pearly sea
+ Of gems, that unto me you show could never hold
+ Beside this diadem of blinding brilliancy."
+
+"For it shall be engendered from the purest fire
+ Of rays primeval, from the holy hearth amassed,
+ Of which the eyes of Mortals, in their sheen entire,
+ Are but the tarnished mirrors, sad and overcast!"
+
+
+
+
+Echoes
+
+
+In Nature's temple, living columns rise,
+Which oftentimes give tongue to words subdued,
+And Man traverses this symbolic wood,
+Which looks at him with half familiar eyes,
+
+Like lingering echoes, which afar confound
+Themselves in deep and sombre unity,
+As vast as Night, and like transplendency,
+The scents and colours to each other respond.
+
+And scents there are, like infant's flesh as chaste,
+As sweet as oboes, and as meadows fair,
+And others, proud, corrupted, rich and vast,
+
+Which have the expansion of infinity,
+Like amber, musk and frankincense and myrrh,
+That sing the soul's and senses' ecstasy.
+
+
+
+
+The Sick Muse
+
+
+Alas--my poor Muse--what aileth thee now?
+Thine eyes are bedimmed with the visions of Night,
+And silent and cold--I perceive on thy brow
+In their turns--Despair and Madness alight.
+
+A succubus green, or a hobgoblin red,
+Has it poured o'er thee Horror and Love from its urn?
+Or the Nightmare with masterful bearing hath led
+Thee to drown in the depths of some magic Minturne?
+
+I wish, as the health-giving fragrance I cull,
+That thy breast with strong thoughts could for ever be full,
+And that rhymthmic'ly flowing--thy Christian blood
+
+Could resemble the olden-time metrical-flood,
+Where each in his turn reigned the father of Rhymes
+Phoebus--and Pan, lord of Harvest-times.
+
+
+
+
+The Venal Muse
+
+
+Oh Muse of my heart--so fond of palaces old,
+Wilt have--when New Year speeds its wintry blast,
+Amid those tedious nights, with snow o'ercast,
+A log to warm thy feet, benumbed with cold?
+
+Wilt thou thy marbled shoulders then revive
+With nightly rays that through thy shutters peep?
+And--void thy purse and void thy palace--reap
+A golden hoard within some azure hive?
+
+Thou must, to earn thy daily bread, each night,
+Suspend the censer like an acolyte,
+Te-Deums sing, with sanctimonious ease,
+
+Or as a famished mountebank, with jokes obscene
+Essay to lull the vulgar rabble's spleen;
+Thy laughter soaked in tears which no one sees.
+
+
+
+
+The Evil Monk
+
+
+The cloisters old, expounded on their walls
+With paintings, the Beatic Verity,
+The which--adorning their religious halls,
+Enriched the frigidness of their Austerity.
+
+In days when Christian seeds bloomed o'er the land,
+Full many a noble monk unknown to-day,
+Upon the field of tombs would take his stand,
+Exalting Death in rude and simple way.
+
+My soul is a tomb where--bad monk that I be--
+I dwell and search its depths from all eternity,
+And nought bedecks the walls of the odious spot.
+
+Oh sluggard monk! when shall I glean aright
+From the living spectacle of my bitter lot,
+To mold my handywork and mine eyes' Delight?
+
+
+
+
+The Enemy
+
+
+My childhood was nought but a ravaging storm,
+Enlivened at times by a brilliant sun;
+The rain and the winds wrought such havoc and harm
+That of buds on my plot there remains hardly one.
+
+Behold now the Fall of ideas I have reached,
+And the shovel and rake one must therefore resume,
+In collecting the turf, inundated and breached,
+Where the waters dug trenches as deep as a tomb.
+
+And yet these new blossoms, for which I craved,
+Will they find in this earth--like a shore that is laved--
+The mystical fuel which vigour imparts?
+
+Oh misery!--Time devours our lives,
+And the enemy black, which consumeth our hearts
+On the blood of our bodies, increases and thrives!
+
+
+
+
+Ill Luck
+
+
+This heavy burden to uplift,
+O Sysiphus, thy pluck is required!
+And even though the heart aspired,
+Art is long and Time is swift.
+
+Afar from sepulchres renowned,
+To a graveyard, quite apart,
+Like a broken drum, my heart,
+Beats the funeral marches' sound.
+
+Many a buried jewel sleeps
+In the long-forgotten deeps,
+Far from mattock and from sound;
+
+Many a flower wafts aloft
+Its perfumes, like a secret soft,
+Within the solitudes, profound.
+
+
+
+
+Interior Life
+
+
+A long while I dwelt beneath vast porticoes,
+While the ocean-suns bathed with a thousand fires,
+And which with their great and majestic spires,
+At eventide looked like basaltic grottoes.
+
+The billows, in rolling depictured the skies,
+And mingled, in solemn and mystical strain,
+The all-mighteous chords of their luscious refrain
+With the sun-set's colours reflexed in mine eyes.
+
+It is there that I lived in exalted calm,
+In the midst of the azure, the splendour, the waves,
+While pregnant with perfumes, naked slaves
+
+Refreshed my forehead with branches of palm,
+Whose gentle and only care was to know
+The secret that caused me to languish so.
+
+
+
+
+Man and the Sea
+
+
+Free man! the sea is to thee ever dear!
+The sea is thy mirror, thou regardest thy soul
+In its mighteous waves that unendingly roll,
+And thy spirit is yet not a chasm less drear.
+
+Thou delight'st to plunge deep in thine image down;
+Thou tak'st it with eyes and with arms in embrace,
+And at times thine own inward voice would'st efface
+With the sound of its savage ungovernable moan.
+
+You are both of you, sombre, secretive and deep:
+Oh mortal, thy depths are foraye unexplored,
+Oh sea--no one knoweth thy dazzling hoard,
+You both are so jealous your secrets to keep!
+
+And endless ages have wandered by,
+Yet still without pity or mercy you fight,
+So mighty in plunder and death your delight:
+Oh wrestlers! so constant in enmity!
+
+
+
+
+Beauty
+
+
+I am lovely, O mortals, like a dream of stone,
+And my bosom, where each one gets bruised in turn,
+To inspire the love of a poet is prone,
+Like matter eternally silent and stern.
+
+As an unfathomed sphinx, enthroned by the Nile,
+My heart a swan's whiteness with granite combines,
+And I hate every movement, displacing the lines,
+And never I weep and never I smile.
+
+The poets in front of mine attitudes fine
+(Which the proudest of monuments seem to implant),
+To studies profound all their moments assign,
+
+For I have all these docile swains to enchant--
+Two mirrors, which Beauty in all things ignite:
+Mine eyes, my large eyes, of eternal Light!
+
+
+
+
+The Ideal
+
+
+It could ne'er be those beauties of ivory vignettes;
+The varied display of a worthless age,
+Nor puppet-like figures with castonets,
+That ever an heart like mine could engage.
+
+I leave to Gavarni, that poet of chlorosis,
+His hospital-beauties in troups that whirl,
+For I cannot discover amid his pale roses
+A flower to resemble my scarlet ideal.
+
+Since, what for this fathomless heart I require
+Is--Lady Macbeth you! in crime so dire;
+--An Æschylus dream transposed from the South--
+
+Or thee, oh great "Night" of Michael-Angelo born,
+Who so calmly thy limbs in strange posture hath drawn,
+Whose allurements are framed for a Titan's mouth.
+
+
+
+
+The Giantess
+
+
+I should have loved--erewhile when Heaven conceived
+Each day, some child abnormal and obscene,
+Beside a maiden giantess to have lived,
+Like a luxurious cat at the feet of a queen;
+
+To see her body flowering with her soul,
+And grow, unchained, in awe-inspiring art,
+Within the mists across her eyes that stole
+To divine the fires entombed within her heart.
+
+And oft to scramble o'er her mighty limbs,
+And climb the slopes of her enormous knees,
+Or in summer when the scorching sunlight streams
+
+Across the country, to recline at ease,
+And slumber in the shadow of her breast
+Like an hamlet 'neath the mountain-crest.
+
+
+
+
+Hymn to Beauty
+
+
+O Beauty! dost thou generate from Heaven or from Hell?
+Within thy glance, so diabolic and divine,
+Confusedly both wickedness and goodness dwell,
+And hence one might compare thee unto sparkling wine.
+
+Thy look containeth both the dawn and sunset stars,
+Thy perfumes, as upon a sultry night exhale,
+Thy kiss a philter, and thy mouth a Grecian vase,
+That renders heroes cowardly and infants hale.
+
+Yea, art thou from the planets, or the fiery womb?
+The demon follows in thy train, with magic fraught,
+Thou scatter'st seeds haphazardly of joy and doom,
+Thou govern'st everything, but answer'st unto nought.
+
+O Loveliness! thou spurnest corpses with delight,
+Among thy jewels, Horror hath such charms for thee,
+And Murder 'mid thy mostly cherished trinklets bright,
+Upon thy massive bosom dances amorously.
+
+The blinded, fluttering moth towards the candle flies,
+Then frizzles, falls, and falters--"Blessings unto thee"--
+The panting swain that o'er his beauteous mistress sighs,
+Seems like the Sick, that stroke their gravestones lovingly.
+
+What matter, if thou comest from the Heavens or Hell,
+O Beauty, frightful ghoul, ingenuous and obscure!
+So long thine eyes, thy smile, to me the way can tell
+Towards that Infinite I love, but never saw.
+
+From God or Satan? Angel, Mermaid, Proserpine?
+What matter if thou makest--blithe, voluptuous sprite--
+With rhythms, perfumes, visions--O mine only queen!--
+The universe less hideous and the hours less trite.
+
+
+
+
+Exotic Perfume
+
+
+When, with closed eyes, on a hot afternoon,
+The scent of thine ardent breast I inhale,
+Celestial vistas my spirit assail;
+Caressed by the flames of an endless sun.
+
+A langorous island, where Nature abounds
+With exotic trees and luscious fruit;
+And with men whose bodies are slim and astute,
+And with women whose frankness delights and astounds.
+
+By thy perfume enticed to this region remote,
+A port I see, laden with mast and with boat,
+Still wearied and torn by the distant brine;
+
+While the tamarisk-odours that dreamily throng
+The air, round my slumberous senses intwine,
+And mix, in my soul, with the mariners' song.
+
+
+
+
+La Chevelure
+
+
+O fleece, that foams down unto the shoulders bare!
+O curls, O scents which lovely languidness exhale!
+Delight! to fill this alcove's sombre atmosphere
+With memories, sleeping deep within this tress of hair,
+I'll wave it in the evening breezes like a veil!
+
+The shores of Africa, and Asia's burning skies,
+A world forgotten, distant, nearly dead and spent,
+Within thy depths, O aromatic forest! lies.
+And like to spirits floating unto melodies,
+Mine own, Belovèd! glides within thy sacred scent.
+
+There I will hasten, where the trees and humankind
+With languor lull beside the hot and silent sea;
+Strong tresses bear me, be to me the waves and wind!
+Within thy fragrance lies a dazzling dream confined
+Of sails and masts and flames--O lake of ebony!
+
+A loudly echoing harbour, where my soul may hold
+To quaff, the silver cup of colours, scents and sounds,
+Wherein the vessels glide upon a sea of gold,
+And stretch their mighty arms, the glory to enfold
+Of virgin skies, where never-ending heat abounds.
+
+I'll plunge my brow, enamoured with voluptuousness
+Within this darkling ocean of infinitude,
+Until my subtle spirit, which thy waves caress,
+Shall find you once again, O fertile weariness;
+Unending lullabye of perfumed lassitude!
+
+Ye tresses blue--recess of strange and sombre shades,
+Ye make the azure of the starry Realm immense;
+Upon the downy beeches, by your curls' cascades,
+Among your mingling fragrances, my spirit wades
+To cull the musk and cocoa-nut and lotus scents.
+
+Long--foraye--my hand, within thy heavy mane,
+Shall scatter rubies, pearls, sapphires eternally,
+And thus my soul's desire for thee shall never wane;
+For art not thou the oasis where I dream and drain
+With draughts profound, the golden wine of memory?
+
+
+
+
+Sonnet XXVIII
+
+
+With pearly robes that wave within the wind,
+Even when she walks, she seems to dance,
+Like swaying serpents round those wands entwined
+Which fakirs ware in rhythmic elegance.
+
+So like the desert's Blue, and the sands remote,
+Both, deaf to mortal suffering and to strife,
+Or like the sea-weeds 'neath the waves that float,
+Indifferently she moulds her budding life.
+
+Her polished eyes are made of minerals bright,
+And in her mien, symbolical and cold,
+Wherein an angel mingles with a sphinx of old,
+
+Where all is gold, and steel, and gems, and light,
+There shines, just like a useless star eternally,
+The sterile woman's frigid majesty.
+
+
+
+
+Posthumous Remorse
+
+
+Ah, when thou shalt slumber, my darkling love,
+Beneath a black marble-made statuette,
+And when thou'lt have nought for thy house or alcove,
+But a cavernous den and a damp oubliette.
+
+When the tomb-stone, oppressing thy timorous breast,
+And thy hips drooping sweetly with listless decay,
+The pulse and desires of mine heart shall arrest,
+And thy feet from pursuing their adventurous way,
+
+Then the grave, that dark friend of my limitless dreams
+(For the grave ever readeth the poet aright),
+Amid those long nights, which no slumber redeems
+
+'Twill query--"What use to thee, incomplete spright
+That thou ne'er hast unfathomed the tears of the dead"?--
+Then the worms will gnaw deep at thy body, like Dread.
+
+
+
+
+The Balcony
+
+
+Oh, Mother of Memories! Mistress of Mistresses!
+Oh, thou all my pleasures, oh, thou all my prayers!
+Can'st thou remember those luscious caresses,
+The charm of the hearth and the sweet evening airs?
+Oh, Mother, of Memories, Mistress of Mistresses!
+
+Those evenings illumed by the glow of the coal,
+And those roseate nights with their vaporous wings,
+How calm was thy breast and how good was thy soul,
+'Twas then we uttered imperishable things,
+Those evenings illumed by the glow of the coal.
+
+How lovely the suns on those hot, autumn nights!
+How vast were the heavens! and the heart how hale!
+As I leaned towards you--oh, my Queen of Delights,
+The scent of thy blood I seemed to inhale.
+How lovely the sun on those hot, autumn nights!
+
+The shadows of night-time grew dense like a pall,
+And deep through the darkness thine eyes I divined,
+And I drank of thy breath--oh sweetness, oh gall,
+And thy feet in my brotherly hands reclined,
+The shadows of Night-time grew dense like a pall.
+
+I know how to call forth those moments so dear,
+And to live my Past--laid on thy knees--once more,
+For where should I seek for thy beauties but here
+In thy langorous heart and thy body so pure?
+I know how to call forth those moments so dear.
+
+Those perfumes, those infinite kisses and sighs,
+Are they born in some gulf to our plummets denied?
+Like rejuvenate suns that mount up to the skies,
+That first have been cleansed in the depths of the tide;
+Oh, perfumes! oh, infinite kisses and sighs!
+
+
+
+
+The Possessed One
+
+
+The sun is enveloped in crape! like it,
+O Moon of my Life! wrap thyself up in shade;
+At will, smoke or slumber, be silent, be staid,
+And dive deep down in Dispassion's dark pit.
+
+I cherish thee thus! But if 'tis thy mood,
+Like a star that from out its penumbra appears,
+To float in the regions where madness careers,
+Fair dagger! burst forth from thy sheath! 'tis good.
+
+Yea, light up thine eyes at the Fire of Renown!
+Or kindle desire by the looks of some clown!
+Thine All is my joy, whether dull or aflame!
+
+Just be what thou wilt, black night, dawn divine,
+There is not a nerve in my trembling frame
+But cries, "I adore thee, Beelzebub mine!"
+
+
+
+
+Semper Eadem
+
+
+"From whence it comes, you ask, this gloom acute,
+Like waves that o'er the rocky headland fall?"
+--When once our hearts have gathered in their fruit,
+To live is a curse! a secret known to all,
+
+A grief, quite simple, nought mysterious,
+And like your joy--for all, both loud and shrill,
+Nay cease to clamour, be not e'er so curious!
+And yet although your voice is sweet, be still!
+
+Be still, O soul, with rapture ever rife!
+O mouth, with the childish smile! Far more than Life,
+The subtle bonds of Death around us twine.
+
+Let--let my heart, the wine of falsehood drink,
+And dream-like, deep within your fair eyes sink,
+And in the shade of thy lashes long recline!
+
+
+
+
+All Entire
+
+
+ The Demon, in my lofty vault,
+ This morning came to visit me,
+ And striving me to find at fault,
+ He said, "Fain would I know of thee;
+
+"Among the many beauteous things,
+ --All which _her_ subtle grace proclaim--
+ Among the dark and rosy things,
+ Which go to make her charming frame,
+
+"Which is the sweetest unto thee"?
+ My soul! to Him thou didst retort--
+"Since all with her is destiny,
+ Of preference there can be nought.
+
+ When all transports me with delight,
+ If aught deludes I can not know,
+ She either lulls one like the Night,
+ Or dazzles like the Morning-glow.
+
+ That harmony is too divine,
+ Which governs all her body fair,
+ For powerless mortals to define
+ In notes the many concords there.
+
+ O mystic metamorphosis
+ Of all my senses blent in one!
+ Her voice a beauteous perfume is,
+ Her breath makes music, chaste and wan.
+
+
+
+
+Sonnet XLIII
+
+
+What sayest thou, to-night, poor soul so drear,
+What sayest--heart erewhile engulfed in gloom,
+To the very lovely, very chaste, and very dear,
+Whose god-like look hath made thee to re-bloom?
+
+To her, with pride we chant an echoing Hymn,
+For nought can touch the sweetness of her sway;
+Her flesh ethereal as the seraphim,
+Her eyes with robe of light our souls array.
+
+And be it in the night, or solitude,
+Among the streets or 'mid the multitude,
+Her shadow, torch-like, dances in the air,
+
+And murmurs, "I, the Beautiful proclaim--
+That for my sake, alone ye love the Fair;
+I am the Guardian Angel, Muse and Dame!"
+
+
+
+
+The Living Torch
+
+
+They stand before me now, those eyes that shine,
+No doubt inspired by an Angel wise;
+They stand, those God-like brothers that are mine,
+And pour their diamond fires in mine eyes.
+
+From all transgressions, from all snares, they save,
+Towards the Path of Joy they guide my ways;
+They are my servants, and I am their slave;
+And all my soul, this living torch obeys.
+
+Ye charming Eyes--ye have those mystic beams,
+Of candles, burning in full day; the sun
+Awakes, yet kills not their fantastic gleams:
+
+Ye sing the Awak'ning, they the dark oblivion;
+The Awak'ning of my spirit ye proclaim,
+O stars--no sun can ever kill your flame!
+
+
+
+
+The Spiritual Dawn
+
+
+When the morning white and rosy breaks,
+With the gnawing Ideal, upon the debauchee,
+By the power of a strange decree,
+Within the sotted beast an Angel wakes.
+
+The mental Heaven's inaccessible blue,
+For wearied mortals that still dream and mourn,
+Expands and sinks; towards the chasm drawn.
+Thus, cherished goddess, Being pure and true--
+
+Upon the rests of foolish orgy-nights
+Thine image, more sublime, more pink, more clear,
+Before my staring eyes is ever there.
+
+The sun has darkened all the candle lights;
+And thus thy spectre like the immortal sun,
+Is ever victorious--thou resplendent one!
+
+
+
+
+Evening Harmony
+
+
+The hour approacheth, when, as their stems incline,
+The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,
+And sounds and scents in the vesper breezes turn;
+A melancholy waltz--and a drowsiness divine.
+
+The flowers evaporate like an incense urn,
+The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine.
+A melancholy waltz--and a drowsiness divine,
+The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern.
+
+The viol vibrates like the wailing of souls that repine;
+Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,
+The skies like a mosque are beautiful and stern,
+The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine.
+
+Sweet souls that shrink from chaos vast and etern,
+Essay the wreaths of their faded Past to entwine,
+The sunset drowns within its blood-red brine,
+Thy thought within me glows like an incense urn.
+
+
+
+
+Overcast Sky
+
+
+Meseemeth thy glance, soft enshrouded with dew,
+Thy mysterious eyes (are they grey, green or blue?),
+Alternately cruel, and tender, and shy,
+Reflect both the languor and calm of the sky.
+
+Thou recall est those white days--with shadows caressed,
+Engendering tears from th' enraptured breast,
+When racked by an anguish unfathomed that weeps,
+The nerves, too awake, jibe the spirit that sleeps.
+
+At times--thou art like those horizons divine,
+Where the suns of the nebulous seasons decline;
+How resplendent art thou--O pasturage vast,
+Illumed by the beams of a sky overcast!
+
+O! dangerous dame--oh seductive clime!
+As well, will I love both thy snow and thy rime,
+And shall I know how from the frosts to entice
+Delights that are keener than iron and ice?
+
+
+
+
+Invitation to a Journey
+
+
+ My sister, my dear
+ Consider how fair,
+Together to live it would be!
+ Down yonder to fly
+ To love, till we die,
+In the land which resembles thee.
+ Those suns that rise
+ 'Neath erratic skies,
+--No charm could be like unto theirs--
+ So strange and divine,
+ Like those eyes of thine
+Which glow in the midst of their tears.
+
+There, all is order and loveliness,
+Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
+
+ The tables and chairs,
+ Polished bright by the years,
+Would decorate sweetly our rooms,
+ And the rarest of flowers
+ Would twine round our bowers
+And mingle their amber perfumes:
+ The ceilings arrayed,
+ And the mirrors inlaid,
+This Eastern splendour among,
+ Would furtively steal
+ O'er our souls, and appeal
+With its tranquillous native tongue.
+
+There, all is order and loveliness,
+Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
+
+ In the harbours, peep,
+ At the vessels asleep
+(Their humour is always to roam),
+ Yet it is but to grant
+ Thy smallest want
+From the ends of the earth that they come,
+ The sunsets beam
+ Upon meadow and stream,
+And upon the city entire
+ 'Neath a violet crest,
+ The world sinks to rest,
+Illumed by a golden fire.
+
+There, all is order and loveliness,
+Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.
+
+
+
+
+"Causerie"
+
+You are a roseate autumn-sky, that glows!
+Yet sadness rises in me like the flood,
+And leaves in ebbing on my lips morose,
+The poignant memory of its bitter mind.
+
+In vain your hands my swooning breast embrace,
+Oh, friend! alone remains the plundered spot,
+Where woman's biting grip has left its trace:
+My heart, the beasts devoured--seek it not!
+
+My heart is a palace pillaged by the herd;
+They kill and take each other by the throat!
+A perfume glides around your bosom bared--
+
+O loveliness, thou scourge of souls--devote
+Thine eyes of fire--luminous-like feasts,
+To burn these rags--rejected by the beasts!
+
+
+
+
+Autumn Song
+
+
+I
+
+Shortly we will plunge within the frigid gloom,
+Farewell swift summer brightness; all too short--
+I hear already sounding with a death-like boom
+The wood that falls upon the pavement of the court.
+
+The whole of winter enters in my Being--pain,
+Hate, honor, labour hard and forced--and dread,
+And like the northern sun upon its polar plane
+My heart will soon be but a stone, iced and red.
+
+I listen trembling unto every log that falls,
+The scaffold, which they build, has not a duller sound,
+My spirits waver, like the trembling tower walls
+that shake--with every echoing blow the builders pound.
+
+Meeseemeth--as to these monotonous blows I sway,
+They nail for one a coffin lid, or sound a knell--
+For whom? Autumn now--and summer yesterday!
+This strange mysterious noise betokens a farewell.
+
+
+II
+
+I love within your oblong eyes the verdant rays,
+My sweet! but bitter everything to-day meseems:
+And nought--your love, the boudoir, nor the flickering blaze,
+Can replace the sun that o'er the screen streams.
+
+And yet bemother and caress me, tender heart!
+Even me the thankless and the worthless one;
+Beloved or sister--unto me the sweets impart
+Of a glorious autumn or a sinking sun.
+
+Ephemeral task! the beckoning the beckoning empty tomb is set!
+Oh grant me--as upon your knees my head I lay,
+(Because the white and torrid summer I regret),
+To taste the parted season's mild and amber ray.
+
+
+
+
+Sisina
+
+
+Imagine Diana in gorgeous array,
+How into the forests and thickets she flies,
+With her hair in the breezes, and flushed for the fray,
+How the very best riders she proudly defies.
+
+Have you seen Théroigne, of the blood-thirsty heart,
+As an unshod herd to attack he bestirs,
+With cheeks all inflamed, playing up to his part,
+As he goes, sword in hand, up the royal stairs?
+
+And so is Sisina--yet this warrior sweet,
+Has a soul with compassion and kindness replete,
+Inspired by drums and by powder, her sway
+
+Knows how to concede to the supplicants' prayers,
+And her bosom, laid waste by the flames, has alway,
+For those that are worthy, a fountain of tears.
+
+
+
+
+To a Creolean Lady
+
+
+In a country perfumed with the sun's embrace,
+I knew 'neath a dais of purpled palms,
+And branches where idleness weeps o'er one's face,
+A Creolean lady of unknown charms.
+
+Her tint, pale and warm--this bewitching bride,
+Displays a nobly nurtured mien,
+Courageous and grand like a huntsman, her stride;
+A tranquil smile and eyes serene.
+
+If, madam, you'd go to the true land of gain,
+By the banks of the verdant Loire or the Seine,
+How worthy to garnish some pile of renown.
+
+You'd awake in the calm of some shadowy nest,
+A thousand songs in the poet's breast,
+That your eyes would inspire far more than your brown.
+
+
+
+
+Moesta et Errabunda
+
+
+Oh, Agatha, tell! does thy heart not at times fly away?
+Far from the city impure and the lowering sea,
+To another ocean that blinds with its dazzling array,
+So blue and so clear and profound, like virginity?
+Oh, Agatha, tell! does thy heart not at times fly away?
+
+The sea, the vast ocean our travail and trouble consoles!
+What demon hath gifted the sea with a voice from on high,
+To sing us (attuned to an Æolus-organ that rolls
+Forth a grumbling burden) a lenitive lullabye?
+The sea, the vast ocean our travail and trouble consoles!
+
+Oh, carry me, waggons, oh, sailing-ships, help me depart!
+Far, far, here the dust is quite wet with our showering tears,
+Oh, say! it is true that Agatha's desolate heart,
+Proclaimeth, "Away from remorse, and from crimes, and from cares,"
+Oh, carry me, waggons, oh, sailing ships, help me depart!
+
+How distant you seem to be, perfumed Elysian fields!
+Wherein there is nothing but sunshine and love and glee;
+Where all that one loves is so worthy, and lovingly yields,
+And our hearts float about in the purest of ecstasy,
+How distant you seem to be, perfumed Elysian fields!
+
+But the green paradise of those transient infantile loves,
+The strolls, and the songs, and the kisses, and bunches of flowers,
+The viols vibrating beyond, in the mountainous groves,
+With the chalice of wine and the evening, entwined, in the bowers,
+But the green paradise of those transient infantile loves.
+
+That innocent heaven o'erflowing with furtive delight,
+Than China or India, is it still further away?
+Or, could one with pityful prayers bring it back to our sight?
+Or yet with a silvery voice o'er the ages convey
+That innocent heaven o'erflowing with furtive delight!
+
+
+
+
+The Ghost
+
+
+Just like an angel with evil eye,
+I shall return to thee silently,
+Upon thy bower I'll alight,
+With falling shadows of the night.
+
+With thee, my brownie, I'll commune,
+And give thee kisses cold as the moon,
+And with a serpent's moist embrace,
+I'll crawl around thy resting-place.
+
+And when the livid morning falls,
+Thou'lt find alone the empty walls,
+And till the evening, cold 'twill be.
+
+As others with their tenderness,
+Upon thy life and youthfulness,
+I'll reign alone with dread o'er thee.
+
+
+
+
+Autumn Song
+
+
+They ask me--thy crystalline eyes, so acute,
+"Odd lover--why am I to thee so dear?"
+--Be sweet and keep silent, my heart, which is sear,
+For all save the rude and untutored brute,
+
+Is loth its infernal depths to reveal,
+And its dissolute motto engraven with fire,
+Oh charmer! whose arms endless slumber inspire!
+I abominate passion and wit makes me ill.
+
+So let us love gently. Within his retreat,
+Foreboding, Love seeks for his arrows a prey,
+I know all the arms of his battle array.
+
+Delirium and loathing--O pale Marguerite!
+Like me, art thou not an autumnal ray,
+Alas my so white, my so cold Marguerite!
+
+
+
+
+Sadness of the Moon-Goddess
+
+
+To-night the Moon dreams with increased weariness,
+Like a beauty stretched forth on a downy heap
+Of rugs, while her languorous fingers caress
+The contour of her breasts, before falling to sleep.
+
+On the satin back of the avalanche soft,
+She falls into lingering swoons, as she dies,
+While she lifteth her eyes to white visions aloft,
+Which like efflorescence float up to the skies.
+
+When at times, in her languor, down on to this sphere,
+She slyly lets trickle a furtive tear,
+A poet, desiring slumber to shun,
+
+Takes up this pale tear in the palm of his hand
+(The colours of which like an opal blend),
+And buries it far from the eyes of the sun.
+
+
+
+
+Cats
+
+
+All ardent lovers and all sages prize,
+--As ripening years incline upon their brows--
+The mild and mighty cats--pride of the house--
+That like unto them are indolent, stern and wise.
+
+The friends of Learning and of Ecstasy,
+They search for silence and the horrors of gloom;
+The devil had used them for his steeds of Doom,
+Could he alone have bent their pride to slavery.
+
+When musing, they display those outlines chaste,
+Of the great sphinxes--stretched o'er the sandy waste,
+That seem to slumber deep in a dream without end:
+
+From out their loins a fountainous furnace flies,
+And grains of sparkling gold, as fine as sand,
+Bestar the mystic pupils of their eyes.
+
+
+
+
+Owls
+
+
+Beneath the shades of sombre yews,
+The silent owls sit ranged in rows,
+Like ancient idols, strangely pose,
+And darting fiery eyes, they muse.
+
+Immovable, they sit and gaze,
+Until the melancholy hour,
+At which the darknesses devour
+The faded sunset's slanting rays.
+
+Their attitude, instructs the wise,
+That he--within this world--who flies
+From tumult and from merriment;
+
+The man allured by a passing face,
+For ever bears the chastisement
+Of having wished to change his place.
+
+
+
+
+Music
+
+
+Oft Music possesses me like the seas!
+ To my planet pale,
+'Neath a ceiling of mist, in the lofty breeze,
+ I set my sail.
+
+With inflated lungs and expanded chest,
+ Like to a sail,
+On the backs of the heaped-up billows I rest--
+ Which the shadows veil--
+
+I feel all the anguish within me arise
+ Of a ship in distress;
+The tempest, the rain, 'neath the lowering skies,
+
+ My body caress;
+At times, the calm pool or the mirror clear
+ Of my despair!
+
+
+
+
+The Joyous Defunct
+
+
+Where snails abound--in a juicy soil,
+I will dig for myself a fathomless grave,
+Where at leisure mine ancient bones I can coil,
+And sleep--quite forgotten--like a shark 'neath the wave.
+
+I hate every tomb--I abominate wills,
+And rather than tears from the world to implore,
+I would ask of the crows with their vampire bills
+To devour every bit of my carcass impure.
+
+Oh worms, without eyes, without ears, black friends!
+To you a defunct-one, rejoicing, descends,
+Enlivened Philosophers--offspring of Dung!
+
+Without any qualms, o'er my wreckage spread,
+And tell if some torment there still can be wrung
+For this soul-less old frame that is dead 'midst the dead!
+
+
+
+
+The Broken Bell
+
+
+How sweet and bitter, on a winter night,
+Beside the palpitating fire to list,
+As, slowly, distant memories alight,
+To sounds of chimes that sing across the mist.
+
+Oh, happy is that bell with hearty throat,
+Which neither age nor time can e'er defeat,
+Which faithfully uplifts its pious note,
+Like an agèd soldier on his beat.
+
+For me, my soul is cracked, and 'mid her cares,
+Would often fill with her songs the midnight airs
+And oft it chances that her feeble moan
+
+Is like the wounded warrior's fainting groan,
+Who by a lake of blood, 'neath bodies slain,
+In anguish falls, and never moves again.
+
+
+
+
+Spleen
+
+
+The rainy moon of all the world is weary,
+And from its urn a gloomy cold pours down,
+Upon the pallid inmates of the mortuary,
+And on the neighbouring outskirts of the town.
+
+My wasted cat, in searching for a litter,
+Bestirs its mangy paws from post to post;
+(A poet's soul that wanders in the gutter,
+With the jaded voice of a shiv'ring ghost).
+
+The smoking pine-log, while the drone laments,
+Accompanies the wheezy pendulum,
+The while amidst a haze of dirty scents,
+
+--Those fatal remnants of a sick man's room--
+The gallant knave of hearts and queen of spades
+Relate their ancient amorous escapades.
+
+
+
+
+Obsession
+
+
+Great forests, you alarm me like a mighty fane;
+Like organ-tones you roar, and in our hearts of stone,
+Where ancient sobs vibrate, O halls of endless pain!
+The answering echoes of your "De Profundis" moan.
+
+I hate thee, Ocean! hate thy tumults and thy throbs,
+My spirit finds them in himself. This bitter glee
+Of vanquished mortals, full of insults and of sobs,
+I hear it in the mighteous laughter of the sea.
+
+O starless night! thy loveliness my soul inhales,
+Without those starry rays which speak a language known,
+For I desire the dark, the naked and the lone.
+
+But e'en those darknesses themselves to me are veils,
+Where live--and, by the millions 'neath my eyelids prance,
+Long, long departed Beings with familiar glance.
+
+
+
+
+Magnetic Horror
+
+
+"Beneath this sky, so livid and strange,
+ Tormented like thy destiny,
+ What thoughts within thy spirit range
+ Themselves?--O libertine reply."
+
+ --With vain desires, for ever torn
+ Towards the uncertain, and the vast,
+ And yet, like Ovid--I'll not mourn--
+ Who from his Roman Heaven was cast.
+
+ O heavens, turbulent as the streams,
+ In you I mirror forth my pride!
+ Your clouds, which clad in mourning, glide,
+
+ Are the hearses of my dreams,
+ And in your illusion lies the hell,
+ Wherein my heart delights to dwell.
+
+
+
+
+The Lid
+
+
+Where'er he may rove, upon sea or on land,
+'Neath a fiery sky or a pallid sun,
+Be he Christian or one of Cythera's band,
+Opulent Croesus or beggar--'tis one,
+
+Whether citizen, peasant or vagabond he,
+Be his little brain active or dull. Everywhere,
+Man feels the terror of mystery,
+And looks upon high with a glance full of fear.
+
+The Heaven above, that oppressive wall;
+A ceiling lit up in some lewd music hall,
+Where the actors step forth on a blood-red soil;
+
+The eremite's hope, and the dread of the sot,
+The Sky; that black lid of a mighty pot,
+Where, vast and minute, human Races boil.
+
+
+
+
+Bertha's Eyes
+
+
+The loveliest eyes you can scorn with your wondrous glow:
+O! beautiful childish eyes there abounds in your light,
+A something unspeakably tender and good as the night:
+O! eyes! over me your enchanting darkness let flow.
+
+Large eyes of my child! O Arcana profoundly adored!
+Ye resemble so closely those caves in the magical creek;
+Where within the deep slumbering shade of some petrified peak,
+There shines, undiscovered, the gems of a dazzling hoard.
+
+My child has got eyes so profound and so dark and so vast,
+Like thee! oh unending Night, and thy mystical shine:
+Their flames are those thoughts that with Love and with Faith combine,
+And sparkle deep down in the depths so alluring or chaste.
+
+
+
+
+The Set of the Romantic Sun
+
+
+How beauteous the sun as it rises supreme,
+Like an explosion that greets us from above,
+Oh, happy is he that can hail with love,
+Its decline, more glorious far, than a dream.
+
+I saw flower, furrow, and brook.... I recall
+How they swooned like a tremulous heart 'neath the sun,
+Let us haste to the sky-line, 'tis late, let us run,
+At least to catch one slanting ray ere it fall.
+
+But the god, who eludes me, I chase all in vain,
+The night, irresistible, plants its domain,
+Black mists and vague shivers of death it forbodes;
+
+While an odour of graves through the darkness spreads,
+And on the swamp's margin, my timid foot treads
+Upon slimy snails, and on unseen toads.
+
+
+
+
+Meditation
+
+
+Be wise, O my Woe, seek thy grievance to drown,
+Thou didst call for the night, and behold it is here,
+An atmosphere sombre, envelopes the town,
+To some bringing peace and to others a care.
+
+Whilst the manifold souls of the vile multitude,
+'Neath the lash of enjoyment, that merciless sway,
+Go plucking remorse from the menial brood,
+From them far, O my grief, hold my hand, come this way.
+
+Behold how they beckon, those years, long expired,
+From Heaven, in faded apparel attired,
+How Regret, smiling, foams on the waters like yeast;
+
+Its arches of slumber the dying sun spreads,
+And like a long winding-sheet dragged to the East,
+Oh, hearken Beloved, how the Night softly treads!
+
+
+
+
+To a Passer-by
+
+
+Around me thundered the deafening noise of the street,
+In mourning apparel, portraying majestic distress,
+With queenly fingers, just lifting the hem of her dress,
+A stately woman passed by with hurrying feet.
+
+Agile and noble, with limbs of perfect poise,
+Ah, how I drank, thrilled through like a Being insane,
+In her look, a dark sky, from whence springs forth the hurricane,
+There lay but the sweetness that charms, and the joy that destroys.
+
+A flash--then the night.... O loveliness fugitive!
+Whose glance has so suddenly caused me again to live,
+Shall I not see you again till this life is o'er!
+
+Elsewhere, far away ... too late, perhaps never more,
+For I know not whither you fly, nor you, where I go,
+O soul that I would have loved, and _that_ you know!
+
+
+
+
+Illusionary Love
+
+
+When I behold thee wander by, my languorous love,
+To songs of viols which throughout the dome resound,
+Harmonious and stately as thy footsteps move,
+Bestowing forth the languor of thy glance profound.
+
+When I regard thee, glowing in the gaslight rays,
+Thy pallid brow embellished by a charm obscure,
+Here where the evening torches light the twilight haze,
+Thine eyes attracting me like those of a portraiture,
+
+I say--How beautiful she is! how strangely rich!
+A mighty memory, royal and commanding tower,
+A garland: and her heart, bruised like a ruddy peach,
+Is ripe--like her body for Love's sapient power.
+
+Art thou, that spicy Autumn-fruit with taste supreme?
+Art thou a funeral vase inviting tears of grief?
+Aroma--causing one of Eastern wastes to dream;
+A downy cushion, bunch of flowers or golden sheaf?
+
+I know that there are eyes, most melancholy ones,
+Wherein no precious secret deeply hidden lies,
+Resplendent shrines, devoid of relics, sacred stones,
+More empty, more profound than ye yourselves, O skies?
+
+Yea, does thy semblance, not alone for me suffice,
+To kindle senses which the cruel truth abhor?
+All one to me! thy folly or thy heart of ice,
+Decoy or mask, all hail! thy beauty I adore!
+
+
+
+
+Mists and Rains
+
+
+O last of Autumn and Winter--steeped in haze,
+O sleepy seasons! you I love and praise,
+Because around my heart and brain you twine
+A misty winding-sheet and a nebulous shrine.
+
+On that great plain, where frigid blasts abound,
+Where through the nights, so long, the vane whirls round,
+My soul, more free than in the springtime soft,
+Will stretch her raven wings and soar aloft,
+
+Unto an heart with gloomy things replete,
+On which remain the frosts of former Times,
+O pallid seasons, mistress of our climes
+
+As your pale shadows--nothing is so sweet,
+Unless it be, on a moonless night a-twain,
+On some chance couch to soothe to sleep our Pain.
+
+
+
+
+The Wine of Lovers
+
+
+To-day the Distance is superb,
+Without bridle, spur or curb,
+Let us mount on the back of wine
+For Regions fairy and divine!
+
+Let's, like two angels tortured by
+Some dark, delirious phantasy,
+Pursue the distant mirage drawn
+O'er the blue crystal of the dawn!
+
+And gently balanced on the wing
+Of some obliging whirlwind, we
+--In equal rapture revelling--
+
+My sister, side by side will flee,
+Without repose, nor truce, where gleams
+The golden Paradise of my dreams!
+
+
+
+
+Condemned Women
+
+
+Like thoughtful cattle on the yellow sands reclined,
+They turn their eyes towards the horizon of the sea,
+Their feet towards each other stretched, their hands entwined,
+They tell of gentle yearning, frigid misery.
+
+A few, with heart-confiding faith of old, imbued
+Amid the darkling grove, where silver streamlets flow,
+Unfold to each their loves of tender infanthood,
+And carve the verdant stems of the vine-kissed portico.
+
+And others like unto nuns with footsteps slow and grave,
+Ascend the hallowed rocks of ancient mystic lore,
+Where long ago--St. Anthony, like a surging wave,
+The naked purpled breasts of his temptation saw.
+
+And still some more, that 'neath the shimmering masses stroll,
+Among the silent chasm of some pagan caves,
+To soothe their burning fevers unto thee they call
+O Bacchus! who all ancient wounds and sorrow laves.
+
+And others again, whose necks in scapulars delight,
+Who hide a whip beneath their garments secretly,
+Commingling, in the sombre wood and lonesome night,
+The foam of torments and of tears with ecstasy.
+
+O virgins, demons, monsters, and O martyred brood!
+Great souls that mock Reality with remorseless sneers,
+O saints and satyrs, searchers for infinitude!
+At times so full of shouts, at times so full of tears!
+
+You, to whom within your hell my spirit flies,
+Poor sisters--yea, I love you as I pity you,
+For your unsatiated thirsts and anguished sighs,
+And for the vials of love within your hearts so true.
+
+
+
+
+
+The Death of the Lovers
+
+
+We will have beds which exhale odours soft,
+We will have divans profound as the tomb,
+And delicate plants on the ledges aloft,
+Which under the bluest of skies for us bloom.
+
+Exhausting our hearts to their last desires,
+They both shall be like unto two glowing coals,
+Reflecting the twofold light of their fires
+Across the twin mirrors of our two souls.
+
+One evening of mystical azure skies,
+We'll exchange but one single lightning flash,
+Just like a long sob--replete with good byes.
+
+And later an angel shall joyously pass
+Through the half-open doors, to replenish and wash
+The torches expired, and the tarnished glass.
+
+
+
+
+The Death of the Poor
+
+
+It is Death that consoles--yea, and causes our lives;
+'Tis the goal of this Life--and of Hope the sole ray,
+Which like a strong potion enlivens and gives
+Us the strength to plod on to the end of the day.
+
+And all through the tempest, the frost and the snows,
+'Tis the shimmering light on our black sky-line;
+'Tis the famous inn which the guide-book shows,
+Whereat one can eat, and sleep, and recline;
+
+'Tis an angel that holds in his magic hands
+The sleep, which ecstatic dream commands,
+Who remakes up the beds of the naked and poor;
+
+'Tis the fame of the gods, 'tis the granary blest,
+'Tis the purse of the poor, and his birth-place of rest,
+To the unknown Heavens, 'tis the wide-open door.
View
63 demo/ereader/index.html
@@ -23,7 +23,7 @@
ereader = new SwipeView('#wrapper', { hastyPageFlip:true });
// Ajax request
- req.open('GET', 'alice.txt', true);
+ req.open('GET', 'flowers.txt', true);
req.onreadystatechange = function () {
if (req.readyState != 4) return;
@@ -39,15 +39,20 @@
helper,
words = [],
segment,
- wordCount = 100,
+ wordCount = 80,
avgWordCount = 0,
- pbCurrent = 0,
+ progressTotal = 0,
+ progressCurrent = 0,
+ progressMaxWidth = document.getElementById('progressbar').clientWidth,
+ progressToBookRatio = 0,
+ progressBar = document.querySelector('#progressbar > span'),
size;
if (!book) return;
book = book.replace(/\n\n/g, ' <br><br>').replace(/\n/g, ' ');
- pbTotal = book.length;
+ progressTotal = book.length;
+ progressToBookRatio = progressMaxWidth / book.length;
container = document.createElement('div');
container.style.visibility = 'hidden';
@@ -56,7 +61,7 @@
helper = document.getElementById('ereader-helper');
helper.innerHTML = '';
- while (book) {
+ var loopy = function () {
words = book.split(' ', wordCount);
segment = words.join(' ');
helper.innerHTML = segment;
@@ -71,6 +76,7 @@
avgWordCount = Math.round((wordCount + avgWordCount)/2);
wordCount = avgWordCount;
size = 0;
+ progressTotal -= segment.length;
} else {
size = 1;
wordCount--;
@@ -82,6 +88,7 @@
avgWordCount = Math.round((wordCount + avgWordCount)/2);
wordCount = avgWordCount;
size = 0;
+ progressTotal -= segment.length;
} else {
if (segment == book) {
pages.push(segment);
@@ -92,27 +99,34 @@
wordCount++;
}
}
- }
-
- book = null;
- words = null;
- segment = null;
- helper.innerHTML = '';
- ereader.slider.removeChild(container);
-
- ereader.updatePageCount(pages.length);
- ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.pageIndex = pages.length-1;
- ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.upcomingPageIndex = ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.pageIndex;
+
+ if (book) {
+ progressBar.style.width = 150 - Math.round(progressToBookRatio * progressTotal) + 'px';
+ setTimeout(loopy, 1);
+ } else {
+ book = null;
+ words = null;
+ segment = null;
+ helper.innerHTML = '';
+ ereader.slider.removeChild(container);
+
+ ereader.updatePageCount(pages.length);
+ ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.pageIndex = pages.length-1;
+ ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.upcomingPageIndex = ereader.masterPages[0].dataset.pageIndex;
+
+ // Load initial data
+ for (i=0; i<3; i++) {
+ pageIndex = i==0 ? pages.length-1 : i-1;
+ el = document.createElement('div');
+ el.innerHTML = pages[pageIndex];
+ ereader.masterPages[i].appendChild(el)
+ }
- // Load initial data
- for (i=0; i<3; i++) {
- pageIndex = i==0 ? pages.length-1 : i-1;
- el = document.createElement('div');
- el.innerHTML = pages[pageIndex];
- ereader.masterPages[i].appendChild(el)
+ document.getElementById('loading').style.display = 'none';
+ }
}
-
- document.getElementById('loading').style.display = 'none';
+
+ loopy();
}
ereader.onFlip(function () {
@@ -136,6 +150,7 @@
<body>
<div id="loading">
<p>Paginating. Please wait...</p>
+ <div id="progressbar"><span></span></div>
</div>
<div id="wrapper"></div>
</body>
View
18 demo/ereader/style.css
@@ -50,7 +50,21 @@ body {
}
#loading p {
- padding:0;
+ padding:10px 0;
margin:0;
- height:50px; line-height:50px;
}
+
+#progressbar {
+ height:5px;
+ width:150px;
+ margin-left:24px;
+ border:1px solid #2F271B;
+ margin-bottom:10px;
+}
+
+#progressbar span {
+ background:#2F271B;
+ display:block;
+ height:5px;
+ width:1px;
+}
View
3 demo/gallery/index.html
@@ -76,9 +76,11 @@
for (i=0; i<3; i++) {
page = i==0 ? slides.length-1 : i-1;
el = document.createElement('img');
+ el.className = 'loading';
el.src = slides[page].img;
el.width = slides[page].width;
el.height = slides[page].height;
+ el.onload = function () { this.className = ''; }
gallery.masterPages[i].appendChild(el);
el = document.createElement('span');
@@ -96,6 +98,7 @@
if (upcoming != gallery.masterPages[i].dataset.pageIndex) {
el = gallery.masterPages[i].querySelector('img');
+ el.className = 'loading';
el.src = slides[upcoming].img;
el.width = slides[upcoming].width;
el.height = slides[upcoming].height;
View
4 demo/gallery/style.css
@@ -73,6 +73,7 @@ body {
-webkit-transition-duration:.4s;
-webkit-transition-property:opacity;
opacity:1;
+ pointer-events:none;
}
#swipeview-slider span {
@@ -106,7 +107,8 @@ body {
background-repeat:no-repeat;
}
-#wrapper > div > .swipeview-loading img {
+#wrapper > div > .swipeview-loading img,
+#swipeview-slider img.loading {
-webkit-transition-duration:0;
opacity:0;
}
View
7 src/swipeview.js
@@ -88,6 +88,11 @@ var SwipeView = (function(){
this.wrapper.addEventListener('swipeview-movein', fn, false);
this.customEvents.push(['movein', fn]);
},
+
+ onTouchStart: function (fn) {
+ this.wrapper.addEventListener('swipeview-touchstart', fn, false);
+ this.customEvents.push(['touchstart', fn]);
+ },
destroy: function () {
var i, l;
@@ -247,7 +252,7 @@ var SwipeView = (function(){
this.slider.style.webkitTransitionDuration = '0';
- this.__event('start');
+ this.__event('touchstart');
},
__move: function (e) {

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