I. There's a little square in Paris There's a little square in Paris, Waiting until we pass. They sit idly there, They sip the glass. There's a cab-horse at the corner, There's rain. The season grieves. It was silver once, And green with leaves. There's a parrot in a window, Will see us on parade, Hear the loud drums roll- And serenade. II. This was the salty taste of glory This was the salty taste of glory, That it was not Like Agamemnon's story. Only, an eyeball in the mud. And Hopkins, Flat and pale and gory! III. But the bugles, in the night But the bugles, in the night, Were wings that bore To where our comfort was; Arabesques of candle beams, Winding Through our heavy dreams; Winds that blew Where the bending iris grew; Birds of intermitted bliss. Singing in the night's abyss; Vines with yellow fruit, That fell Along the walls That bordered Hell. IV. Death's nobility again Death's nobility again Beautified the simplest men. Fallen Winkle felt the pride Of Agamemnon When he died. What could London's Work and waste Give him- To that salty, sacrificial taste ? What could London's Sorrow bring- To that short, triumphant sting? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A CAPTIOUS CRITIC by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WRITTEN IN THE BEGINNING OF MEZERAY'S HISTORY OF FRANCE by MATTHEW PRIOR AUTUMN SONG by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI FOUR LITTLE FOXES by LEW SARETT SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE SUPLIANTS: IO. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS BODY AND SOUL by AWHAD AD-DIN 'ALI IBN VAHID MUHAMMAD KHAVARANI |