Resurrection

(To J. W. A.)

The black sky scowled, abased and flat, On streets gaunt as an alley-cat And dry as misery or dirt— I’d tramped them till my hot feet hurt. Now—beaten as a beaten pup— I hummed to keep my courage up A stupid song I’d learned at school; Though all the words ran back to “Fool” ... Still, spite of all my flesh could feel, My mind kept on its burning wheel, Its blazing wheel of great aims lost, And how her face was white—almost— The day she’d spoken, kind and kind, And left me eating night and blind; So I slouched on till town was past And scrubby country came at last, Pinched as ingratitude. Across The sky clouds towered, boss on boss Of a black shield thrust down on earth And spanning planets in its girth; While white fire flickered in the South Like a dog’s tongue about his mouth.

A few hot raindrops spat my cheek— A cicada began to creak— And slashing lightning like a sword Unleashed the waters of the Lord! Roaring and heavy, gushing clear Through dirt and raggedness and fear, They struck before I’d time to curse, They soaked me like a leather purse! Caught in the terrier mouth of rain I had no time for thought or pain; Dripping and running like a brook With wetness everywhere I’d look, Fresh-mated with the fierce keen scents Where Spring had pitched her lilacked tents! Almost alive I tramped the wold Until a stick slid; and I rolled Head over heels asprawl in wet, ... And something in me overset, Snapped, went to pieces ... and I laughed And laughed till men had thought me daft! I beat my sides until I’d cry At the dull ape that had been I; That solemn insult to the earth! I shook the bushes with my mirth, And rose—and reeled with mockeries Of silly sky and idiot trees, Weak as a straw—but heart and head Arisen starry from the dead!

So, staggering with laughter still, I crossed the run and climbed the hill, Knocked at your door and called to you, And made you shriek with laughter too. You dried my clothes and gave me food And wine, to show that God was good. And, after speech that flapped like birds, I said you these prophetic words, “We shall ascend Olympus yet, Though scorpions the way beset! And plant our banner, Deus vult, Over the Tower Difficult, The lilied banner, badged with gold— Oh, we shall live before we’re old! And drink the ale of Tartary And eat the spice of Trebizond, And battle with the serpent-sea That roars round Alicant the fond! And princesses with ivory crowns, And girls in green, moon-spangled gowns Shall aid our high assault till we Have passed beyond the Topaz Sea; And found the quests that made us meek, Whose very names would burn the cheek With worship and with ecstasy, Those rippled names on which we cry— Those eyes we saw a while agone— But there’s adventure to be won! And slit-eyed men and ring-nosed men Shall bar our glorious way again That proud armadas’ trampled shards May make a new song for our bards! For we are young—and youth is steel! Hark! at our shattering trumpet-peal The spaniel worlds slink in to heel!”

“Eh bien—the fire’s gone out,” you said “And I’m tired, too.... Let’s go to bed!...”