Turning in my mind That famous, heroic face That ciphered out Right government from wrong 5 And brought boys flying Out of bed to death, And because he is dead And cannot annul my choice, I make my name and death. 10 Before a great Greek head, Half ruined and knocked From a blank rock At bleary midnight slumped, When night-owls in their hunt 15 Toil from branch to branch, Some wrong-eyed philosopher puzzled out That all mind's sunk In the rut of the world, And can't drag out its ragged theme 20 Because frenzy-driven, riven mad By terror-ridden hours that rend Shifting tapestries of soul. All man's but broken pride, Wars reduced to bandages. 25 Because all image He can be all suffering Or exultant hatred personified To a deity. What once Wan man, and now's a shade 30 Stands here--- lonely as the hawthorne Tree traced in winter's Resiny dews. Dead shade Hammer again this form, if you can To make of bone and tendon 35 Pure image. Famous men and solitary souls Have cursed with equaL breath Generations of stupidity; Monuments flooded in a hole. 40 I fed by the boards as a boy--- But when I consider that, Old and wrong and out of breath, I hammer out my death: Repetitions of mere breath 45 Satisfy my thought.
From the collection "Burning Byzantium"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.