Songs from Books Part 17

They talk of the money I spent out there-- They hint at the pace that I went out there-- But they all forget I was sent out there Alone as a rich man's son.

So I was a mark for plunder at once, And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once, But I didn't give up and knock under at once, I worked in the Yards, for a spell.

Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs, And shared their milk and maize with hogs, Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs And--I have that knowledge to sell!

So back I go to my job again, Not so easy to rob again, Or quite so ready to sob again On any neck that's around.

I'm leaving, Pater. Good-bye to you!

G.o.d bless you, Mater! I'll write to you....

I wouldn't be impolite to you, But, Brother, you _are_ a hound!

THE NECESSITARIAN

I know not in Whose hands are laid To empty upon earth From unsuspected ambuscade The very Urns of Mirth;

Who bids the Heavenly Lark arise And cheer our solemn round-- The Jest beheld with streaming eyes And grovellings on the ground;

Who joins the flats of Time and Chance Behind the prey preferred, And thrones on Shrieking Circ.u.mstance The Sacredly Absurd,

Till Laughter, voiceless through excess, Waves mute appeal and sore, Above the midriff's deep distress, For breath to laugh once more.

No creed hath dared to hail Him Lord, No raptured choirs proclaim, And Nature's strenuous Overword Hath nowhere breathed His Name.

Yet, it must be, on wayside j.a.pe, The selfsame Power bestows The selfsame power as went to shape His Planet or His Rose.

THE JESTER

There are three degrees of bliss At the foot of Allah's Throne, And the highest place is his Who saves a brother's soul At peril of his own.

There is the Power made known!

There are three degrees of bliss In the Gardens of Paradise, And the second place is his Who saves his brother's soul By excellent advice.

For there the Glory lies!

There are three degrees of bliss And three abodes of the Blest, And the lowest place is his Who has saved a soul by a jest And a brother's soul in sport ...

But there do the Angels resort!

A SONG OF TRAVEL

Where's the lamp that Hero lit Once to call Leander home?

Equal Time hath shovelled it 'Neath the wrack of Greece and Rome.

Neither wait we any more That worn sail which Argo bore.

Dust and dust of ashes close All the Vestal Virgins' care; And the oldest altar shows But an older darkness there.

Age-encamped Oblivion Tenteth every light that shone!

Yet shall we, for Suns that die, Wall our wanderings from desire?

Or, because the Moon is high.

Scorn to use a nearer fire?

Lest some envious Pharaoh stir, Make our lives our sepulchre?

Nay! Though Time with petty Fate Prison us and Emperors, By our Arts do we create That which Time himself devours-- Such machines as well may run 'Gainst the horses of the Sun.

When we would a new abode, s.p.a.ce, our tyrant King no more, Lays the long lance of the road At our feet and flees before, Breathless, ere we overwhelm, To submit a further realm!

THE TWO-SIDED MAN

Much I owe to the Land that grew-- More to the Life that fed-- But most to Allah Who gave me two Separate sides to my head.

Much I reflect on the Good and the True In the Faiths beneath the sun, But most upon Allah Who gave me two Sides to my head, not one.

Wesley's following, Calvin's flock, White or yellow or bronze, Shaman, Ju-ju or Angekok, Minister, Mukamuk, Bonze--

Here is a health, my brothers, to you, However your prayers are said, And praised be Allah Who gave me two Separate sides to my head!

_I_ would go without shirt or shoe, Friend, tobacco or bread, Sooner than lose for a minute the two Separate sides of my head!

'LUKANNON'

(Song of the breeding Seal. Aleutian Islands)

I met my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!) Where roaring on the ledges the summer ground-swell rolled.

I heard them lift the chorus that drowned the breakers' song-- The Beaches of Lukannon--two million voices strong!

_The song of pleasant stations beside the salt lagoons, The song of blowing squadrons that shuffled down the dunes, The song of midnight dances that churned the sea to flame-- The Beaches of Lukannon--before the sealers came!_

I met my mates in the morning (I'll never meet them more!); They came and went in legions that darkened all the sh.o.r.e.

And through the foam-flecked offing as far as voice could reach We hailed the landing-parties and we sang them up the beach.

_The Beaches of Lukannon--the winter-wheat so tall-- The dripping, crinkled lichens, and the sea-fog drenching all!

The platforms of our playground, all shining smooth and worn!

The Beaches of Lukannon--the home where we were born_!