You understood how easily I might have been lost
In the deep deceitful river, and kindly
Led me towards the shallows of sentiment where blindly
Lovers may spend their grief at a little cost.
I will forget all that was cultivated, all that was told
How to be beautiful: The sights that made
My companion point with his arm and cry: Wonderful,
The sweep of the land, the variegated shade
Of the mountain sides!
Accept this clay vessel
As a token
Of the unspoken.
You will find sin
But also you
May find what is true
To be understood
At the end of day
With your pure heart
For him who walked apart
On the hills
Loving life's miracles
Of stone and grass
And the ecstatic caress
Of wind in the face.
There is a Forbidden Fruit
Of that you may be sure
It grows on many different trees
Something that you will want terribly bad
That always evades you.
I met God the Father in the street
And the adjectives by which I would describe him are these:
About frivolous things
He was not a man who would be appointed to a Board
Nor impress a bishop
Or gathering of art-lovers.
For three years you have been watching pictures on a screen,
So maybe you could tell us in verse
What cash of experience you earned,
What memories lie glittering in your purse?
Here and now colloqually [sic] the hammer
I give to all these ladies and their glamour -
The baker's daughter - did I love her?
Half drunk, he recited Longfellow -
There's poetry for you! He went on
To mutter about Owen [ill.]
But is it worth it? have I not
Been very happy in my way:
A queer fellow - hates the sight of work
Excentric [sic] they say.
[10b is probably a fragment, and does not follow from 10a. (AQ)
10c is incorporated here.]