Transport

The moon swims in milkiness, The road glimmers curving down into the wooded valley And with a clashing and creaking of tackle and axles The train of limbers passes me, and the mules Splash me with mud, thrusting me from the road into puddles, Straining at the tackle with a bitter patience, Passing me.... And into a patch of moonlight, With beautiful curved necks and manes, Heads reined back, and nostrils dilated, Impatient of restraint, Pass two gray stallions, Such as Oenetia bred; Beautiful as the horses of Hippolytus Carven on some antique frieze. And my heart rejoices seeing their strength in play, The mere animal life of them, Lusting, As a thing passionate and proud.

Then again the limbers and grotesque mules.

[Greek: autarkeia]

I am alone: even ranked with multitudes: And they alone, each man. So are we free. For some few friends of me, some earth of mine, Some shrines, some dreams I dream, some hopes that emerge From the rude stone of life vaguely, and tend Toward form in me: the progeny of dreams I father; even this England which is mine Whereof no man has seen the loveliness As with mine eyes: and even too, my God Whom none have known as I: for these I fight, For mine own self, that thus in giving self Prodigally, as a mere breath in the air, I may possess myself, and spend me so Mingling with earth, and dreams, and God: and being In them the master of all these in me, Perfected thus. Fight for your own dreams, you.

EPIGRAM, R. B.

Earth held thee not, whom now the gray seas hold, By the blue Cyclades, and even the sea Palls but the mortal, for men's hearts enfold, Inviolate, the untamed youth of thee.