The Crowder’s Tune

Down a street in Babylon— His fiddle to the moon With notes like stars that one by one Glittered upon the empty street, Glittered and laughed and went (But there was a lisp of ghostly feet) To build a firmament.

“Who walks by night in Babylon? ‘I,’ said a lady, ‘because Of the wonderful thing I was, And the beautiful things all done, I walk in Babylon.’

Who seeks for a lady by night? ‘I,’ said a king, ‘My throne Is empty in Babylon. She fled from the light to the light, I seek for a lady by night.’

Who calls by night in Babylon? ‘They,’ answered love, ‘Yes over and over She calls to her God, but he to his lover, And each of them walks by night alone, And they will not meet in Babylon.’”

The crowder played His little tune, almost As though he were afraid Of some forgotten ghost Awakening, And crying on the string Of what was lost And would not come Again. He feared in vain. For the ghost, the ghost is dumb Of love that is past over, And the merciless laughter of the moon Pursues the ghostly lover, Till in the empty street There’s an end of the lisp of feet, And the crowder breaks his fiddle and the tune, And all the stars are gone In Babylon.