Misery's Company

it is addressed thusly:
An ode.
it reads:
That sad despond, that dullsome gloom
That hangs about as vagrancy
Almost feels sorry to sweep the room
Almost colder in its vacancy
Oh, oh what foolish trifles for which we're bound
For is not the spring forthcoming?
Only a leaden heart could one have found
To be deaf of its drumming;
To look with sadness upon coming days
Days which are all quite actually brighter
It then is not light that allays
For is not that joy much slighter
I feel then mostly sorry most
For the worldly gloom itself
Pity to drive its haggard host
Every faerie, every elf
But maybe sympathize a trace
And feel its dumb despair not odd
And recall for all mere things no place
Before the light of the face of God?


The Poet's Dream, VIII

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.
it reads:
"Then he, that old totem nose
Whose habitat was for the birds
Told me tale of many woes
Which also sadly was of many words

In shorter form I will recall
The symbols which he wrote for me
In that telling, once and for all
See the end to what will be:

A mirror which describes the heart
A cup discerned by wisdom's art
A pale sword which broke in two
A winter cat on hunt for you
A city where faith turns to dust
A library overcome with must
A jar of souls and minds to switch
A fair rose wilted black as pitch
A child who seeks but cannot find
A coin whose carrying did bind
A flower which sees only itself
The soulless blue-fire of an elf
A wordless edge to hem the will
A giant's rock upon a hill."

And woke our poet from reverie
Just in time the sunset to see
And remark the blots upon the page
Which seemed writing of another age
And find his menial tasks undone
Which then under the proverbial gun
He had to then with haste engage
And the war with memory later engage.


The Poet's Dream, VII

it is addressed thusly:
A fragment.
it reads:
And gathering to a greatness, I
Found my faculties reach beyond
And saw then these, when did fly
My mind above my memories fond
And drive past war and warring hate
And cut with wisdom's surer course
Found then I the drowning-gate
Onto which all water the ocean pours.

And then my vision came more clear
Past these sunny domes of yore
For I saw a sight so dear
A windswept world, a skylit shore
And these places had to them,
A felicity I leave here undescribed
For above I saw a starry fen
Whose master nary could be bribed.

And now my dream came clearer still
Of seeds seven, whose keepers lie in state
Around me there these heroes fell
These legends true, these kings called great
Now encircle, entombed at rest
All present here, though from time thrown
Called by the eighth, among the best
Held nascent now, but soon be grown.

The seeds I saw, were vices dread
In truth they were not always so
But I had it in my head
To take all seven, and then to go
Unhinge the ancient doors of death
And undo their evil with some good
Be carried then, with the breath
To follow her with purple hood.