1.20.2012

The Poet's Dream, V

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.
it reads:
"A coal that burns against the dark
An arrow that does not miss its mark
A hand that heals and holds to bind
A chill, enshrouding winter wind
An ancient lamp embossed with youth
A mighty arm endowed with ruth
A darkness seeing, searching eye
A flame with dancing sparks that fly
A foot to crush a serpent's head
A word soft-uttered, a breath of dread
A tattered coat worn with merry might
An arc that makes all-bright the night
A spinning band of golden worth
A brazen horn now sounding forth;

Seven and seven, mark them all
Know which of them, which shall fall?
(Spoke the dweller -- against the wall)
Ye who hear me not, to these I call
I need not best you, nor hand stall
Perish the unhearing,
         perish them all!"

And some sort of afternoon malaise
Then made our poet forget his days
And fall to napping's confounded haze
Nodding into dreaming's misty maze.

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