"The
nest is full of nothing when the bird has flown." - I.A.
I
see kiniggits pricking on the plain,
the
crosses on their breasts, the horses' nostrils
steaming,
and the stamping clopping hooves
with
iron shod, I see the clumps of earth
fly
up, and in the distance from a square
cut
in the stone I see a rope, a braid
of
maidenhair, say chestnut? Lethian,
or
some rapunzeled girl, trapped in a cell
twain
storeys high, of smooth wood and baroque,
fine
carven, swirling stuff, and on the mantles
many
vials, vases, polished mirrors,
porphyrian
oddments, or of whiter work,
blue
filigreed marble, flakier sandstone, veined
we
should have said, for he was thinking deltas
deep
inlaid, and Pound had come again
with
some new brighter stuff, can someone list?
Can
someone come along with us, O come
ye
blousy spirits, there be avatars
in
me and many, may we be possessed
of
thee, but soft, for there beyond the door,
beyond
the gate, be darkling things that cry
and
wait and lie, that gibber in unjoy,
ungainly
in ungrace, not far afield
but
close and clustered, toady moist and gaunt,
or
in an ungallumphing gravid mass—
Then
pray upon the Cross, and say, O Christ,
for
Thou art with me, I shall fear no evil:
None
shall taloned tear me limb from limb,
O
Lord, for I have with my rubbing thumb
upon
Thy body, narrow on the Cross,
thanked
Thee with gratitude, and anxious love,
and
unaccosted laid me down to dream.
7.21.15
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