His high-flung noose had fallen And the star had not been caught, Still the unobtainable Danced upon the air, Mocking his omnipotence. From his castle in the world, He was always gazing there -- Past the white tides of the sky Where the lost Atlantis floats, And the days and nights are furled, And the comets ply. . . O poor earth with dancers, too, More grotesquely gay Than his deathless star -- Not so very far His noose was flung for you! Row on row your dancers swung, Stepping on the air Where the acorn-monsters writhe, And the rooks keep out the sun, And the lean wolves pair. |