| teeth, |
| Death and life were not |
| Till man made up the whole, |
| Made lock, stock and barrel |
| Out of his bitter
soul, |
| Aye, sun and moon and star, all, |
| And further add to that |
| That, being dead, we rise, |
| Dream and
so create |
| Translunar Paradise. |
| I have prepared my peace |
| With learned Italian things |
| And the proud
stones of Greece, |
| Poet’s imaginings |
| And memories of love, |
| Memories of the words of women, |
| All those
things whereof |
| Man makes a superhuman |
| Mirror-resembling dream. |
|
|
|
|
| As at the loophole there |
| The daws
chatter and scream, |
| And drop twigs layer upon layer. |
| When they have mounted up, |
| The mother bird will
rest |
| On their hollow top, |
| And so warm her wild nest. |
|
|
|
|
| I leave both faith and pride |
| To young upstanding
men |
| Climbing the mountain side, |
| That under bursting dawn |
| They may drop a fly; |
| Being of that metal
made |
| Till it was broken by |
| This sedentary trade. |
|
|
|
|
| Now shall I make my soul, |
| Compelling it to study |
| In
a learned school |
| Till the wreck of body, |
| Slow decay of blood, |
| Testy delirium |
| Or dull decrepitude, |
| Or
what worse evil come— |
| The death of friends, or death |
| Of every brilliant eye |
| That made a catch in the
breath— |
| Seem but the clouds of the sky |
| When the horizon fades; |
| Or a bird’s sleepy cry |
| Among the
deepening shades. |
| 1926 |