1 Half drunk, he recited Longfellow - There's poetry for you! He went on To mutter about Owen [ill.] And "The Long-haired Bohemian" Who, from what I could gather Was a remarkable mixture - Concocted by Commerce synthetically - Of painter, poet and musician. Did it seem excentric [sic] of me to feel Hate oozing? the pimple That laughed a malignant tumour? Evil in what seemed quite simple? Venom! Yet I was glad that I had drawn This one me, for not I Was the object, but some spirit Of unchanging morality Of which I was the tool - I idly said: "The effigy looks authentic" This drove him mad. His hair ran down his face, He screamed a mult - itude of obscene words At my "insult" The face was volatile and there Was history in that face Of the unstable bog, the quaking scraw Of a defeated race. Then I realised that this race Had assumed power; Firbolgs dressed for a festival, Stormed the ivory tower, Staggering up to the gods, Trying to outlaugh the serene Laugh of the monstrous Apollo - What can his wild words mean?