All is enclosed here: the winds of time Shall not ruffle the gray serenity of this Last housing. What the intimate bitter world Once dallied with is in impervious garments Wrapped, regarding with calm, sightless eyes All jeers and seeking smiles, brooding and carousing. No luring lips nor gesturing of women Shall move to any answer this mouth finally Set in repulse of all life gives and love implies. No pleading voice nor street corner's urgent drum Could summon now to desire for Abraham's bosom, Nor ringing bugle to passionate empty wars This which long since put off accustomed shivering For a new warmth received with eager thankfulness; An enclosure that shuts out, keeps in, protects -- Place of healing for sore bruises, surgery for ancient scars. |