<h2> Apology </h2>
<h3> (For Eleanor Rogers Cox) </h3>
<p>For blows on the fort of evil<br/>
That never shows a breach,<br/>
For terrible life-long races<br/>
To a goal no foot can reach,<br/>
For reckless leaps into darkness<br/>
With hands outstretched to a star,<br/>
There is jubilation in Heaven<br/>
Where the great dead poets are.<br/>
<br/>
There is joy over disappointment<br/>
And delight in hopes that were vain.<br/>
Each poet is glad there was no cure<br/>
To stop his lonely pain.<br/>
For nothing keeps a poet<br/>
In his high singing mood<br/>
Like unappeasable hunger<br/>
For unattainable food.<br/>
<br/>
So fools are glad of the folly<br/>
That made them weep and sing,<br/>
And Keats is thankful for Fanny Brawne<br/>
And Drummond for his king.<br/>
They know that on flinty sorrow<br/>
And failure and desire<br/>
The steel of their souls was hammered<br/>
To bring forth the lyric fire.<br/>
<br/>
Lord Byron and Shelley and Plunkett,<br/>
McDonough and Hunt and Pearse<br/>
See now why their hatred of tyrants<br/>
Was so insistently fierce.<br/>
Is Freedom only a Will-o'-the-wisp<br/>
To cheat a poet's eye?<br/>
Be it phantom or fact, it's a noble cause<br/>
In which to sing and to die!<br/>
<br/>
So not for the Rainbow taken<br/>
And the magical White Bird snared<br/>
The poets sing grateful carols<br/>
In the place to which they have fared;<br/>
But for their lifetime's passion,<br/>
The quest that was fruitless and long,<br/>
They chorus their loud thanksgiving<br/>
To the thorn-crowned Master of Song.<br/></p>
<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"></SPAN></p>
<br/>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.