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弌傍�� dreams & dust 忖方�� 耽匈4000忖

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!!!!隆堋響頼��紗秘慕禰厮宴和肝写偬堋響��




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�察�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�察�chirp�察�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�察�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�察�October��





CHANT OF THE CHANGING HOURS



THE Hours passed by�察�a fleet�察�confused crowd��

  With wafture of blown garments bright as fire��

Light�察�light of foot and laughing�察�morning´browed��

  And where they trod the jonquil and the briar

Thrilled into jocund life�察�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�察�keener ecstasy��

One paused and shouted to my questionings��

  ;Lo�察�I am Youth�察�I bid thee follow me� �



The Hours passed by�察�they paced�察�great lords and

      proud��

  Crowned on with sunlight�察�robed in rich attire��

Before their conquering word the brute deed

      bowed��

  And Ariel fancies served their large desire��



They spake�察�and roused the mused soul that dwells

In dust�察�or�察�smiling�察�shaped new heavens and

      hells��

Dethroned old gods and made blind beggars kings��

;And what art thou�察─�I cried to one�察 �that brings

  His mistress�察�for a brooch�察�the Galaxy�拭�

;I am the plumed Thought that soars and sings��

  Lo�察�I am Song�察�I bid thee follow me� �



The Hours passed by�察�with veiled eyes endowed

  Of dream�察�and parted lips that scarce suspire��

To breathing dusk and arrowy moonlight vowed��

  South wind and shadowy grove and murmuring

      lyre��

Swaying they moved�察�as drows'd of wizard spells

Or tranc'd with sight of recent miracles��

And yet they trembled�察�down their folded wings

Quivered the hint of sweet withholden things��

  Ah�察�bitter´sweet in their intensity��

One paused and said unto my wonderings��

  ;Lo�察�I am Love�察�I bid thee follow me� �



The Hours passed by�察�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�察�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�察�I am Life�察�I bid thee follow me� �



The Hours passed by�察�the stumbling hours and

      cowed��

  Uncertain�察�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�察�lacking the blood that swells

The tensed vein�此�the hot�察�swift tide that stings

With life。  Ah�察�wise� �but naked to the slings

  Of fate�察�and plagued of youthful memory��

A cracked voice broke upon my pityings��

  ;Lo�察�I am Age�察�I bid thee follow me� �



Ah�察�Youth� �we dallied by the babbling wells

Where April all her lyric secret tells��

Ah�察�Song� �we sped our bold imaginings

As far as yon red planet's triple rings��

  O Life�  �O Love�  �I followed�察�followed thee��

There waits one word to end my journeyings��

  ;Lo�察�I am Death�察�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�察�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�察�swell each living vein��

Old doubts and faiths�察�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;�拭 � 。 。

  Have I not shouted�察�sobbed�察�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�察�as I write�察�what gray old ghosts

  Murmur and mock me from the gloom。 。 。 。



They call 。 。 。 across strange seas they call��

  Strange seas�察�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�察�but not ourselves��

  Born heirs�察�but serfs�察�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�察�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�察�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�察�love or crown��



For him who fain would teach the world

  The world holds hate in fee

For Socrates�察�the hemlock cup��

  For Christ�察�Gethsemane。





IN MARS�察�WHAT AVATAR��



;In Vishnu´land�察�what avatar�拭�

                           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�察�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�察�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�察�what avatars��

Claim Mars��







THE GOD´MAKER�察�MAN



NEVERMORE

  Shall the shepherds of Arcady follow

Pan's moods as he lolls by the shore

  Of the mere�察�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�察�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�察�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�察�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�察�and the faiths��

And the temples that challenge

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