dreams & dust-第7节
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There is mingled wit and folly；
But the madcap lacks the grace
Of a thoughtful melancholy。
Spendthrift of the seasons' gold；
How he flings and scatters out
Treasure filched from summer…time！
Never ruffling squire of old
Better loved a tavern bout
When Prince Hal was in his prime。
Doublet slashed with gold and green；
Cloak of crimson； changeful sheen；
Of the dews that gem his breast；
Frosty lace about his throat；
Scarlet plumes that flaunt and float
Backward in a gay unrest
Where's another gallant drest
With such tricksy gaiety；
Such unlessoned vanity？
With his amber afternoons
And his pendant poets' moons
With his twilights dashed with rose
From the red…lipped afterglows
With his vocal airs at dawn
Breathing hints of Helicon
Bacchanalian bees that sip
Where his cider…presses drip
With the winding of the horn
Where his huntsmen meet the morn
With his every piping breeze
Shaking from familiar trees
Apples of Hesperides
With the chuckle； chirp； and trill
Of his jolly brooks that spill
Mirth in tangled madrigals
Down pebble…dappled waterfalls
（Brooks that laugh and make escape
Through wild arbors where the grape
Purples with a promise of
Racy vintage rare as love）
With his merry； wanton air；
Mirth and vanity and folly
Why should he be made to bear
Burden of some melancholy
Song that swoons and sinks with care？
Cease to call him sad or sober；
He's a jolly dog； October！
CHANT OF THE CHANGING HOURS
THE Hours passed by； a fleet； confused crowd；
With wafture of blown garments bright as fire；
Light； light of foot and laughing； morning…browed；
And where they trod the jonquil and the briar
Thrilled into jocund life； the dreaming dells
Waked to a morrice chime of jostled bells；
They danced！ they danced！ to piping such as
flings
The garnered music of a million Springs
Into one single； keener ecstasy；
One paused and shouted to my questionings：
〃Lo； I am Youth； I bid thee follow me！〃
The Hours passed by； they paced； great lords and
proud；
Crowned on with sunlight； robed in rich attire；
Before their conquering word the brute deed
bowed；
And Ariel fancies served their large desire；
They spake； and roused the mused soul that dwells
In dust； or； smiling； shaped new heavens and
hells；
Dethroned old gods and made blind beggars kings：
〃And what art thou；〃 I cried to one； 〃that brings
His mistress； for a brooch； the Galaxy？〃
〃I am the plumed Thought that soars and sings：
Lo； I am Song； I bid thee follow me！〃
The Hours passed by； with veiled eyes endowed
Of dream； and parted lips that scarce suspire；
To breathing dusk and arrowy moonlight vowed；
South wind and shadowy grove and murmuring
lyre；
Swaying they moved； as drows'd of wizard spells
Or tranc'd with sight of recent miracles；
And yet they trembled； down their folded wings
Quivered the hint of sweet withholden things；
Ah； bitter…sweet in their intensity！
One paused and said unto my wonderings：
〃Lo； I am Love； I bid thee follow me！〃
The Hours passed by； through huddled cities loud
With witless hate and stale with stinking mire：
So cowled monks might march with bier and shroud
Down streets plague…spotted toward some cleans…
ing pyre；
Yet； lo！ strange lilies bloomed in lightless cells；
And passionate spirits burst their clayey shells
And sang the stricken hope that bleeds and
clings：
Earth's bruised heart beat in the throbbing strings；
And joy still struggled through the threnody！
One stern Hour said unto my marvelings：
〃Lo； I am Life； I bid thee follow me！〃
The Hours passed by； the stumbling hours and
cowed；
Uncertain； prone to tears and childish ire；
The wavering hours that drift like any cloud
At whim of winds or fortunate or dire；
The feeble shapes that any chance expells；
Their wisdom useless； lacking the blood that swells
The tensed vein： the hot； swift tide that stings
With life。 Ah； wise！ but naked to the slings
Of fate； and plagued of youthful memory！
A cracked voice broke upon my pityings：
〃Lo； I am Age； I bid thee follow me！〃
Ah； Youth！ we dallied by the babbling wells
Where April all her lyric secret tells；
Ah； Song！ we sped our bold imaginings
As far as yon red planet's triple rings；
O Life！ O Love！ I followed； followed thee！
There waits one word to end my journeyings：
〃Lo； I am Death； I bid thee follow me！〃
DREAMS AND DUST
SELVES
My dust in ruined Babylon
Is blown along the level plain；
And songs of mine at dawn have soared
Above the blue Sicilian main。
We are ourselves； and not ourselves 。 。 。
For ever thwarting pride and will
Some forebear's passion leaps from death
To claim a vital license still。
Ancestral lusts that slew and died；
Resurgent； swell each living vein；
Old doubts and faiths； new panoplied；
Dispute the mastery of the brain。
The love of liberty that flames
From written rune and stricken reed
Shook the hot hearts of swordsmen sires
At Marathon and Runnymede。
What are these things we call our 〃selves〃？ 。 。 。
Have I not shouted； sobbed； and died
In the bright surf of spears that broke
Where Greece rolled back the Persian tide？
Are we who breathe more quick than they
Whose bones are dust within the tomb？
Nay； as I write； what gray old ghosts
Murmur and mock me from the gloom。 。 。 。
They call 。 。 。 across strange seas they call；
Strange seas； and haunted coasts of time。 。 。 。
They startle me with wordless songs
To which the Sphinx hath known the rhyme。
Our hearts swell big with dead men's hates；
Our eyes sting hot with dead men's tears；
We are ourselves； but not ourselves；
Born heirs； but serfs； to all the years！
I rode with Nimrod 。 。 。 strove at Troy 。 。 。
A slave I stood in Crowning Tyre；
A queen looked on me and I loved
And died to compass my desire。
THE WAGES
EARTH loves to gibber o'er her dross；
Her golden souls； to waste；
The cup she fills for her god…men
Is a bitter cup to taste。
Who sees the gyves that bind mankind
And strives to strike them off
Shall gain the hissing hate of fools；
Thorns； and the ingrate's scoff。
Who storms the moss…grown walls of eld
And beats some falsehood down
Shall pass the pallid gates of death
Sans laurel； love or crown；
For him who fain would teach the world
The world holds hate in fee
For Socrates； the hemlock cup；
For Christ； Gethsemane。
IN MARS； WHAT AVATAR？
〃In Vishnu…land； what avatar？〃
BROWNING。
PERCHANCE the dying gods of Earth
Are destined to another birth；
And worn…out creeds regain their worth
In the kindly air of other stars
What lords of life and light hold sway
In the myriad worlds of the Milky Way？
What avatars in Mars？
What Aphrodites from the seas
That lap the plunging Pleiades
Arise to spread afar
The dream that was the soul of Greece？
In Mars； what avatar？
Which hundred moons are wan with love
For dull Endymions？
Which hundred moons hang tranced above
Audacious Ajalons？
What Holy Grail lures errants pale
Through the wastes of yonder star？
What fables sway the Milky Way？
In Mars； what avatar？
When morning skims with crimson wings
Across the meres of Mercury；
What dreaming Memnon wakes and sings
Of miracles on Mercury？
What Christs； what avatars；
Claim Mars？
THE GOD…MAKER； MAN
NEVERMORE
Shall the shepherds of Arcady follow
Pan's moods as he lolls by the shore
Of the mere； or lies hid in the hollow；
Nevermore
Shall they start at the sound of his reed…fashioned
flute；
Fallen mute
Are the strings of Apollo；
His lyre and his lute；
And the lips of the Memnons are mute
Evermore；
And the gods of the North；are they dead or
forgetful；
Our Odin and Baldur and Thor？
Are they drunk； or grown weary of worship and
fretful；
Our Odin and Baldur and Thor？
And into what night have the Orient dieties
strayed？
Swart gods of the Nile； in dusk splendors arrayed；
Brooding Isis and somber Osiris；
You were gone ere the fragile papyrus；
（That bragged you eternal！） decayed。
The avatars
But illumine their limited evens
And vanish like plunging stars；
They are fixed in the whirling heavens
No firmer than falling stars；
Brief lords of the changing soul； they pass
Like a breath from the face of a glass；
Or a blossom of summer blown shallop…like over
The clover
And tossed tides of grass。
Sink to silence the psalms and the paeans
The shibboleths shift； and the faiths；
And the temples that challenge
