Where purple becomes orange
And orange purple,
This life glowed,
A dire red stain, indelible;
Yet when he was dead,
He saw that he had not lived.
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Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
Though I strive to use the one,It will make no melody at my will,But is dead in my mouth.
Many workmen
Upon a mountain-top.Then they went to the valley below,And turned to behold their work.‘It is grand,’ they said;They loved the thing.Of a sudden, it moved:It came upon them swiftly;It crushed them all to blood.But some had opportunity to squeal.
In the night
And the peaks looked toward God alone.‘O Master that movest the wind with a finger,Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.Grant that we may run swiftly across the worldTo huddle in worship at Thy feet.’In the morningA noise of men at work came the clear blue miles,And the little black cities were apparent.‘O Master that knowest…
‘Think as I think,’ said a man,
You are a toad.’And after I had thought of it,I said, ‘I will, then, be a toad.’
Once there came a man
‘Range me all men of the world in rows.’And instantlyThere was terrific clamour among the peopleAgainst being ranged in rows.There was a loud quarrel, world-wide.It endured for ages;And blood was shedBy those who would not stand in rows,And by those who pined to stand in rows.Eventually, the man went to death, weeping.And those who staid…
Charity thou art a lie,
A pleasure of certain men.In the presence of justice,Lo, the walls of the templeAre visibleThrough thy form of sudden shadows.