The Congo and Other Poems Part 6

An Argument

I. The Voice of the Man Impatient with Visions and Utopias

We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut bread, and dull as life in cells, O, scribes who dare forget how wild we are How human b.r.e.a.s.t.s adore alarum bells.

You house us in a hive of prigs and saints Communal, frugal, clean and chaste by law.

I'd rather brood in b.l.o.o.d.y Elsinore Or be Lear's fool, straw-crowned amid the straw.

Promise us all our share in Agincourt Say that our clerks shall venture scorns and death, That future ant-hills will not be too good For Henry Fifth, or Hotspur, or Macbeth.

Promise that through to-morrow's spirit-war Man's deathless soul will hack and hew its way, Each flaunting Caesar climbing to his fate Scorning the utmost steps of yesterday.

Never a shallow jester any more!

Let not Jack Falstaff spill the ale in vain.

Let Touchstone set the fashions for the wise And Ariel wreak his fancies through the rain.

II. The Rhymer's Reply. Incense and Splendor

Incense and Splendor haunt me as I go.

Though my good works have been, alas, too few, Though I do naught, High Heaven comes down to me, And future ages pa.s.s in tall review.

I see the years to come as armies vast, Stalking tremendous through the fields of time.

MAN is unborn. To-morrow he is born, Flame-like to hover o'er the moil and grime, Striving, aspiring till the shame is gone, Sowing a million flowers, where now we mourn-- Laying new, precious pavements with a song, Founding new shrines, the good streets to adorn.

I have seen lovers by those new-built walls Clothed like the dawn in orange, gold and red.

Eyes flashing forth the glory-light of love Under the wreaths that crowned each royal head.

Life was made greater by their sweetheart prayers.

Pa.s.sion was turned to civic strength that day-- Piling the marbles, making fairer domes With zeal that else had burned bright youth away.

I have seen priestesses of life go by Gliding in samite through the incense-sea-- Innocent children marching with them there, Singing in flowered robes, "THE EARTH IS FREE": While on the fair, deep-carved unfinished towers Sentinels watched in armor, night and day-- Guarding the brazier-fires of hope and dream-- Wild was their peace, and dawn-bright their array!

A Rhyme about an Electrical Advertising Sign

I look on the specious electrical light Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white, Wickedly red or malignantly green Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen.

Showing, while millions of souls hurry on, The virtues of collars, from sunset till dawn, By dart or by tumble of whirl within whirl, Starting new fads for the shame-weary girl, By maggoty motions in sickening line Proclaiming a hat or a soup or a wine, While there far above the steep cliffs of the street The stars sing a message elusive and sweet.

Now man cannot rest in his pleasure and toil His clumsy contraptions of coil upon coil Till the thing he invents, in its use and its range, Leads on to the marvellous CHANGE BEYOND CHANGE.

Some day this old Broadway shall climb to the skies, As a ribbon of cloud on a soul-wind shall rise.

And we shall be lifted, rejoicing by night, Till we join with the planets who choir their delight.

The signs in the street and the signs in the skies Shall make a new Zodiac, guiding the wise, And Broadway make one with that marvellous stair That is climbed by the rainbow-clad spirits of prayer.

In Memory of a Child

The angels guide him now, And watch his curly head, And lead him in their games, The little boy we led.

He cannot come to harm, He knows more than we know, His light is brighter far Than daytime here below.

His path leads on and on, Through pleasant lawns and flowers, His brown eyes open wide At gra.s.s more green than ours.

With playmates like himself, The shining boy will sing, Exploring wondrous woods, Sweet with eternal spring.

Galahad, Knight Who Perished

A Poem Dedicated to All Crusaders against the International and Interstate Traffic in Young Girls

Galahad... soldier that perished... ages ago, Our hearts are breaking with shame, our tears overflow.

Galahad... knight who perished... awaken again, Teach us to fight for immaculate ways among men.

Soldiers fantastic, we pray to the star of the sea, We pray to the mother of G.o.d that the bound may be free.

Rose-crowned lady from heaven, give us thy grace, Help us the intricate, desperate battle to face Till the leer of the trader is seen nevermore in the land, Till we bring every maid of the age to one sheltering hand.

Ah, they are priceless, the pale and the ivory and red!

Breathless we gaze on the curls of each glorious head!

Arm them with strength mediaeval, thy marvellous dower, Blast now their tempters, shelter their steps with thy power.

Leave not life's fairest to perish--strangers to thee, Let not the weakest be shipwrecked, oh, star of the sea!

The Leaden-eyed

Let not young souls be smothered out before They do quaint deeds and fully flaunt their pride.

It is the world's one crime its babes grow dull, Its poor are ox-like, limp and leaden-eyed.

Not that they starve, but starve so dreamlessly, Not that they sow, but that they seldom reap, Not that they serve, but have no G.o.ds to serve, Not that they die, but that they die like sheep.

An Indian Summer Day on the Prairie

(In the Beginning)