Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ARCHIMEDES LAST FORAY, by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET Poet's Biography First Line: And...Having sought for a lever wherewith to move the world...He was slain... Last Line: To be careful with the dust. Subject(s): Archimedes (287-212 B.c.) | ||||||||
"And . . . having sought for a lever wherewith to move the world . . . he was slain. . . ." Seven strewn earths my bones confound, Seven deep seas have seen me drowned, Seven fires burnt every bone, Seven whirlwinds raged and blown; The final dust is fine and frail As dust upon a butterfly's scale. Atom, atom, impalpable, How shall I arise from hell? Atom, atom, infinite, How may I these Is unite? How from water and peachbloom-fuzz Resurrect the thing I was? Which is I and which is wind? How many atoms make a mind? Then the atoms spoke and stirred, Each with a dim, invisible word, "Even we are never whole, Even we are not your soul. If you search for Unity, You must sever us -- even we." And I saw, like things alive, Strong electrons move and strive In the atoms, till they too Rent asunder, and were new Pulses of unceasing forces, Tiny men on tiny horses Warring in a drop of water; And the very soul of Matter Soul no longer, self nor single, But a battleground where mingle Positive and Negative brother, Each immortal as the other. Each attracting, each repelling, Even in their single celling Till -- electrons, atom, dust -- There was nothing one could trust. Till all Solid split apart Like the fragments of a heart, Every speck a child at nurse, Every cell a universe. There were glittering planets there In a single pinch of air, And a cosmos, bright and fierce, Smaller than the eye could pierce. Twenty thousand Christs were born In a single grain of corn. And Napoleons managed well Their artillery of hell In a cell so minified Microscopes have never pried To its bottom. All was flux, As before the "Fiat lux!", And no god to mold the sphere Till the fragments should cohere. Utter night and utter light Each its own great opposite, Co-repealed yet co-existent, Dead-alive, inert-persistent. I was suns, a gleaming host, Yet I was not even a ghost. I was worlds, and yet in me Not one living thing could be As we think of life and death; Yet I lived with every breath That was drawn -- diffused, dispelled, Myriad-heavened, myriad-helled, And could never droop or cease In a comfortable peace. Then, ah then, I heard the cry, Matter in its agony, Nailed to Immortality. And the cross it throbbed upon Was itself -- and we were one. Past and future merged somehow In the Everlasting Now That existed ere man wrought Time, the lying clock of Thought. That exists past Time and Space In a vacant dwelling-place Where extended parallels meet And Dimension's obsolete. And I felt upon me press Dreadful weights of Nothingness, Till I was not and I was Without reason or because, Only pulped, excruciate Force -- Then -- the clock resumed its course. Slowly, slowly from that Void, Uncreated, undestroyed, Moved electron on electron, Building up an atom-section, And the atoms coalesced In the shapes that served them best Slow constructing, cell by cell, Like a reef of coral-shell, Visible flesh and blood and bone, Grain on grain and stone by stone. Till at last, the city whole That the prophets call Mansoul, Stood erect, a moving world, With a life within it furled Like a lily in the bud, Supple flesh and racing blood. And I felt my tongue unloosed, And I felt my sinews juiced With a new, immortal sap Stolen from the thunderclap, And I shouted, "Oh my bones, Though your ancestors were stones, We have broken from the net, And our pride is hardy yet. Though there be no Space or Time, You can make them with a rhyme. Nothing Is, but while it Seems, We can bridle it with dreams, Fling the halter on the horn Of the hunting-unicorn That is Semblance -- and so ride Out beyond the vacant-eyed Ether that is All and Nought, With the saddle of a Thought And the stirrup of a Wish. And can swim like silver fish Up the Milky Way of Space, Till the vacant dwelling-place That no Being can escape Shrouds us in an empty cape. Let it shroud us! While it Seems, We have life and flesh and dreams." So I spoke, brave words and free, And was stalwart as a tree. But -- I have not cared since then, Much to talk to men of men. And have vowed a solemn trust To be careful with the dust. | Other Poems of Interest...IN SPAERAM ARCHIMEDIS by CLAUDIAN A MINOR POET by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CAMPUS SONNET: BEFORE AN EXAMINATION by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CAMPUS SONNET: MAY MORNING by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CAMPUS SONNET: RETURN - 1917 by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CAMPUS SONNET: TALK by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET CAROL: NEW STYLE by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET COLORS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET DEVOURER OF NATIONS by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET |
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