Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE PARTY, by EDGAR LEE MASTERS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE PARTY, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Our wishes not consulted whether
Last Line: "and blessings on your way."


Our wishes not consulted whether
We chose to come, not even the hour,
Some would have asked for fairer weather
Than on a day of sun and shower.
No chance to choose! And some got wet,
Were sick and nervous while they stayed;
Others came in the sun, the debt
Of Fortune to them overpaid.
We all came ignorant, willy-nilly,
Pell mell, piebald, grave and silly,
Resistless to the party drawn,
Which had gone on and would go on
From dawn to night and night to dawn.
Though some, it seemed, had scarcely come
Before they left; and some at noon,
Or morning bade adieu. The moon
Saw others take departure home.
All talked about it as you would;
Esteemed it dull, over too soon, --
Bad, sad, or wearing, very good!

Over too soon! Yet truth to tell
It was a lasting festival.
Guests had to leave -- and that was all.
To each some different thing befell.
The party went on just the same.
First guests departed, late arrived;
Fresh candles burned with brighter flame;
New cakes were cut, and laughter thrived
Over a wit re-sharpened. Crumbs
Of eaten things were brushed away;
Dishes were cleared and lovelier bowls
Were piled with new picked grapes and plums.
The place the while was mad and gay
Because of sad and merry souls.
There was a room for love's romancing;
A room for talk, a room for dancing;
A room for globes and maps and books;
A room with sky lights, a room of nooks;
A room of pictures, marbles, bronzes;
Guns, gauntlets, spears, armor, sconces;
A room of racks and torture hooks;
A room of ikons, shrines and josses;
A room of crosiers, cups and crosses;
A room -- but everything was here --
That brain can think of, plan or make
To shackle spirits, honor brows,
To thrill the heart, or start the tear,
Or stir a rapture, or an ache --
It was a wonder house!

I noticed this: You enter with
Fellow arrivers, ill at ease.
The rooms are full, and some of these
Know you, but only with their eyes
Acknowledge you in mild surprise.
Listen! and you will get the pith
And meaning of what went before
From these. The high ones talk in myth,
Who own the rooms -- in loose ellipsis
Show what their tried out fellowships'
Inner communion is and lore.
But kinder souls say: "Some one great
Was here before you came." "This thing
Happened this morning." "Look! that one
Just going out, is so and so."
"There comes the waiter with your plate!"
"You should have heard that woman sing!
She's going!" "Oh, we've had such fun."
"What happened? What's ahead? It's slow!"
Late stayers stare your ignorance:
"Why don't they tell us?" "Oh, no use,
You wouldn't understand. You'll know
Later, perhaps, by happy chance.
And if you don't, it's too abstruse,
We have no words. Feed on and run
The rooms around. You'll see what we
Have felt, seen, suffered and enjoyed."

And so it is to father and son,
Mother and maid. Then what should be?
The bell rings, some are glad, annoyed:
New guests are coming, and for some
The Chauffeur rings, the Car has come!
And we who were the novices,
And wondered, stared, deferred, inquired,
Are now in charge, and take amiss
Curious questions, have acquired
The Party's manner, secrets, speech.
And see, as those before us saw,
New and old groups are troubled, each
Is deaf and dumb. How can we draw
Their wordless wonder to the point?
What would you know? How can we reach
And vocalize your dumbness? What
To ask of us you do not know,
And what to tell you we know not --
Groups, therefore, clearly out of joint.

Yes, but they do not know us now.
Most here are strange. Where is the throng
With whom we came? Where is the brow
Sunny of hair, the voice of song?
Where is the hand that understood,
Without a word? There's none to hear,
And know our meaning as he would ...
New wine is opened. No more wine!
New cake is cut. I must instead
Drink brandy, bitters, heavy beer.
I rather like this coarse, black bread.
Strange music plays, not high and clear.
No matter! For you might inspect
The pictures, marbles, once again,
Look at the books some more, correct
First errors. Surely that were well.
And you can do it, having fared
So differently. Was that the bell?
"Your chauffeur's here!" "Why speed me so?"
"Too bad! Too bad you have to go!"

Yes, but the party's over! No?
Over for me. And I am tired.
Desire for what I once desired
Is dying or is satisfied.
Tell him to wait a moment -- yes
I wish to see what may betide;
Watch the new comers laugh and feast;
Watch eyes that glance, and breasts that heave;
Watch cunning, aspiration, pride;
Watch soldier, statesman, poet, priest;
Watch those who doubt and who believe,
Untangle, tangle, spin and weave.
I've helped to make the party, still
The party is not to my will.
I can re-make it, now I know
How to enjoy it better, use
Its hour more wisely. "By your leave.
Just wait a moment!" "Well, your car
Is at the door and must not park;
The way you go is rather far,
Besides it's growing dark."
Bowed out! No matter! I am due
At a better party, so they say.
To-morrow is a better day --
Always to-morrow. "What of you?
You're coming? Well, I hope you may."
"Meantime good night, a safe return,
And blessings on your way."





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