Life, 1919-12-04 · page 37 of 80
Life — December 4, 1919 — page 37: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a literary/artistic piece rather than political satire. The poem by Hervey Allen (credited at bottom) uses the classical god Bacchus—deity of wine, revelry, and excess—as an allegorical figure for a vanishing way of life. The text mourns Bacchus's departure ("he is gone—is gone—Forevermore"), depicting his exit through classical imagery: satyrs, leopards, torch-lit processions. The accompanying illustration shows wood nymphs and mythological creatures in a forest shrine. The poem's resolution suggests Bacchus hasn't died but merely fled to "kindlier lands" and "liberal shores" untouched by modern civilization—where men haven't "snatched the purple roses from his head." **For modern readers:** This reflects early 20th-century nostalgia for classical pagan culture and natural freedom, mourning what the author sees as lost to industrial/modern restraint. It's romantic lament rather than topical commentary.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
Bacchus Is Gone ACCHUS is gone! 1 saw him leave the shore Upon a moontess time, ind he is gone—is gone- Forevermore I saw the satyrs and the bacchanals— Bace! ra ne—is gone— With smoking torches as at funerals. Light him across the sea at dawn. IT saw the wh pering pards Where he ha Bacchus is Sniff to the water's otprints led— whisper in the hedge, And go aghast, Snapping the myrtle branches as he fled Bacchus i And with him dancing Folly— Bacchus is dead—is dead— Oh, Melancholy ! No! Not He is not dead; he has but fled To kindlier lands he knew in days before Men snatched the purple roses from his head He does but wanton by some liberal shore— Sun-kissed— And wreathed with vine leaves With spotted beasts, and maide And sound of timbrels like a story told Of youth and love and blood and wi comicbooks.com