And wildwood airs sing a frayed interlude,
While cloaked he comes in a new attitude
To play gravedigger if the word be said.

He swore he would be glad and only glad,
And turned to Broadway for the peace of God.
He found it at the bottom of the glass,
For where the dregs lay it was less than sad,
And mid the murmur when the dance was trod
He heard the echo of a genius pass.

IN THE FALKLANDS

For his soul when homeless then is at home,
And in a paradise where shadows wane
He draws droll figures on the windowpane
To lure his vagrom fellow souls to Rome.
There is a potent rancour in the moon,
Hunting for those who love him still, three
Gleam back. But with detached anxiety
He vows that he will alienate them soon.

He said that love had but two words, the last
And first, and joy in flying laces lay.
He watched each kiss to kill it at stark ease--
His strangler's hands carve prayers for the past--
And chastely he spends an hour every day
Erecting tombstones to carnalities.

THE NOON OF NIGHT

The fictive tear he holds in reverence,
And studies heady griefs that wash the cheek;
It is a dim dominion he must seek,
To gain some raiment for his impotence.
Sorrows are numbered, the sighs have their strings,
And barren smiles are trained for tragedy;
He ties up parcels of mock gaiety,
And labels them with many worshippings.

Grapes in the grass, and every day a waste
At scattered sources of lost loveliness,
With drunkenness to drain the ruined seats.
He knows his gems are turned to glassy paste--
But he thanks God aloof from all distress,
For he knows sewers run beneath the city streets.

FIFTH AVENUE

And when discovery marred the best disguise
He winced a sigh, bowed to a spoiled deceit,
And donned the damask draperies of defeat
To woo dishonour as an enterprise.
His self-betrayal had its tenderness
And reared an outland refuge for his pride,
For all were baffled telling how he lied,
Since more than any guessed he would confess.

He died a hero in Fifth Avenue
One yellowed day saving a tattered man.
But in the litter of his passing breath
A prayer lay lest one should misconstrue.
It was an accident--and he began
A last profound apology to death.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

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