AS—slave of Friendship, serf to Loyalty, Prison'd in petty town— I pass long hours of poet's penury, In spirit always lone, While watching you, full five years, I have won Respite, remission. In you I see, again, my own lost youth, Abounding energy, Passion for knowledge, ceaseless search for truth ... Sense you as devotee, Prompt, each new instant, for some fresh emprise And heart-whole sacrifice. Yet, seeing these things, I see no patch of prig Or pedant. Swift you seem, Alike, of foot and intellect. Also, big Of heart. Adept at dream And act, no less. Thrice fortunately endued With love and fatherhood. So, at your sight, there shines some touch of sun On me, who hourly eke Exiguous days. I find communion, Meet something God-like, Greek ... Much, Mercury—light-moving, luminous— More, Æsculapius. |