O sorrow-swept my fool,
What answer? O ye myriad
That strive? and play and pass,
Jest, challenge, counterlie!
I? I? I?
And ye?
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These tales of old disguisings, are they not
Unwonted folk that spake an hostile tongue,Some soul from all the rest who’d not forgotThe star-span acres of a former lotWhere boundless mid the clouds his course he swung,Or carnate with his elder brothers sungEre ballad-makers lisped of Camelot?Old singers half-forgetful of their tunes,Old painters color-blind come back once more,Old poets skill-less in the wind-heart…
As a bathtub lined with white porcelain,
So is the slow cooling of our chivalrous passion,O my much praised but-not-altogether-satisfactory lady.
These fought in any case,
pro domo, in any case …..Died some, pro patria,walked eye-deep in hellbelieving in old men’s lies, then unbelievingcame home, home to a lie,home to many deceits,home to old lies and new infamy;usury age-old and age-thickand liars in public places.Daring as never before, wastage as never before.Young blood and high blood,fair cheeks, and fine bodies;fortitude as…
I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me
As to the nerveless hand of some old warriorThe sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmetBrings momentary life and long-fled cunning,So to my soul grown old –Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray,Grown old with namy a hither-coming and hence-going –Till now they send him dreams and no more deed;So doth he flame again…
Ha! sir, I have seen you sniffing and snoozling
And what, pray, do you know abouthorticulture, you capriped?‘Come, Auster, come Apeliota,And see the faun in our garden.But if you move or speakThis thing will run at youAnd scare itself to spasms.’
Candidia has taken a new lover
The first has written a long elegy to ‘Chloris’,To ‘Chloris chaste and cold,’ his ‘only Chloris’.The second has written a sonnetupon the mutability of woman,And the third writes an epigram to Candidia.