I am bewildered still and teased by elves That cloud about me even through city streets. One sings a stave and one a dream repeats, One, crueler, in some old resentment delves. I am aware they are my other selves, Yet to what dazzling vision each entreats, Casting a glamour over shams and cheats, Ennobling can't buzzing by tens and twelves! So then my smiling grieves the passerby. I strut in all vocations not my own, Wearing the centuries like a baldric slung; Whilst shabby I gawk at this splendid I. Chronos and Momus through my lipe intone, Archangels, heroes, -- rascals yet unhung! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CASTLE OF CHILLON by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON TO JOHN KEATS; SONNET by AMY LOWELL WASHINGTON'S MONUMENT, FEBRUARY, 1885 by WALT WHITMAN THE HIRED MAN by EVA K. ANGLESBURG THE OLD LINE FENCE by AMERICUS WELLINGTON BELLAW |