Falsehood of Thee could I suppose
'Twould undermine the Sill
To which my Faith pinned Block by Block
Her Cedar Citadel.
-
-
Fame is a bee.
It has a song —
It has a sting —
Ah, too, it has a wing. -
Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set.
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the
Farmer's Corn —
Men eat of it and die. -
Fame is the one that does not stay —
Its occupant must die
Or out of sight of estimate
Ascend incessantly —
Or be that most insolvent thing
A Lightning in the Germ —
Electrical the embryo
But we demand the Flame -
Fame is the tint that Scholars leave
Upon their Setting Names —
The Iris not of Occident
That disappears as comes — -
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous — An Incense
Beyond Necessity —
Fame of Myself to lack — Although
My Name be else Supreme —
This were an Honor honorless —
A futile Diadem — -
Fame's Boys and Girls, who never die
And are too seldom born — -
Far from Love the Heavenly Father
Leads the Chosen Child,
Oftener through Realm of Briar
Than the Meadow mild.
Oftener by the Claw of Dragon
Than the Hand of Friend
Guides the Little One predestined
To the Native Land. -
Companion dear, the hour draws nigh,
The sentence speeds—to die, to die.
So long in mystic union held,
So close with strong embrace compelled,
How canst thou bear the dread decree
That strikes thy clasping nerves from me?
To Him who on this...There was a fountain in my heart
Whose deeps had not been stirred;
A thirst for music in my soul
My ear had never heard; --
A feeling of the incomplete
To all bright things allied;
A sense of something beautiful,
...