"@3He shall rise up at the voice of a bird@1." -- ECCLESIASTES WHO then is "he"? Dante, Keats, Shakespeare, Milton, Shelley; all Rose in their greatness at the shrill decree, The little rousing inarticulate call. For they stood up At the bird-voice, of lark, of nightingale, Drank poems from that throat as from a cup. Over the great world's notes did these prevail. And not alone The signal poets woke. In listening man, Woman, and child a poet stirs unknown, Throughout the Mays of birds since Mays began. He rose, he heard -- Our father, our St. Peter, in his tears -- The crowing, twice, of the prophetic bird, The saddest cock-crow of our human years. |