No Umpire—have I—
My Sovereign is offended—
To gain his grace—I’d die!
I’ll seek his royal feet—
I’ll say—Remember—King—
Thou shalt—thyself—one day—a Child—
Implore a larger—thing—
That Empire—is of Czars—
As small—they say—as I—
Grant me—that day—the royalty—
To intercede—for Thee—
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Not with a club, the Heart is broken,
A whip, so small you could not see it,I’ve knownTo lash the magic creatureTill it fell,Yet that whip’s name too nobleThen to tell.Magnanimous of birdBy boy descried,To sing unto the stoneOf which it died.Next: The Only News I know
These Fevered Days – to take them to the Forest
And shade is all that devastates the stillnessSeems it sometimes this would be all –
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Where scrabble never comes—Where very nimble GentlemenAre forced to keep their rooms—Where tired Children placid sleepThro’ Centuries of noonThis place is Bliss—this town is Heaven—Please, Pater, pretty soon!‘Oh could we climb where Moses stood,And view the Landscape o’er’Not Father’s bells—nor Factories,Could scare us any more!
‘And with what body do they come?’ –
What Door – What Hour – Run – run – My Soul!Illuminate the House!‘Body!’ Then real – a Face and Eyes –To know that it is them!Paul knew the Man that knew the News –He passed through Bethlehem –
It was not death, for I stood up,
It was not night, for all the bellsPut out their tongues, for noon.It was not frost, for on my fleshI felt siroccos crawl,–Nor fire, for just my marble feetCould keep a chancel cool.And yet it tasted like them all;The figures I have seenSet orderly, for burial,Reminded me of mine,As if my life were shavenAnd fitted…
771
Who Bounty—have not known—The fact of Famine—could not beExcept for Fact of Corn—Want—is a meagre ArtAcquired by Reverse—The Poverty that was not Wealth—Cannot be Indigence.