Coda
A strong song tows
us, long earsick.
Blind, we follow . . .
A strong song tows
us, long earsick.
Blind, we follow . . .
Man, the egregious egoist,
(In mystery the twig is bent,)
Imagines, by some mental twist, . . .
I struck the board, and cried, "No more;
I will abroad!
What? shall I ever sigh and pine? . . .
Come into animal presence.
No man is so guileless as
the serpent. The lonely white . . .
September was when it began.
Locusts dying in the fields; our dogs
Silent, moving like shadows on a wall; . . .
By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood . . .
What is he buzzing in my ears?
"Now that I come to die,
Do I view the world as a vale of tears?"
. . .
Late in November, on a single night
Not even near to freezing, the ginkgo trees
That stand along the walk drop all their leaves . . .
Since all that beat about in Nature's range,
Or veer or vanish; why should'st thou remain
The only constant in a world of change, . . .
Constantly risking absurdity
and death
whenever he performs . . .