Forty-odd years ago -- Headlines in the snow -- The jobless scrawled a text for mutineers; Then history seemed sane, Though Franco sailed for Spain And Hitler swore to live a thousand years. Now Progress, his machine, Makes water out of wine; With loaves and paper stuffs the multitude; For power he milks the sun To see the cities flame And drives the Goddess from the sacred wood. Yet anniversaries Should have our praise, as trees Salute the queenly coming of the Spring. All sacred marriages Keep evergreen in this: Coupling with Time, they bind him in a ring. Though time turns, history moves As if to prove our loves, Having no pattern but the one we give. While countries bleed and burn Not any shall sleep warm Unless, good friends, you teach us how to live. Some nine and forty years, A pulse-beat of the stars, Astounds the May Fly's million generations. Your middle style of Time Is suited most to man. This whispering wrist sustains the dream of nations. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ROAST BEEF OF OLD ENGLAND by HENRY FIELDING WITH A COPY OF HERRICK by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE A SHORT SONG OF CONGRATULATION by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) A WOMAN'S QUESTION by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER TO MR. MONTGOMERY; OCCASIONED BY ... ATTACK ON HIS POEMS by LUCY AIKEN |