A rock he takes to be his shield.
Loud winds his clarions are.
Should banded warriors take the field,
Though strong troops come from far,
Naught know they but to yield.
But if a sparrow taunt his helm,
Froth-like his power is blown.
Him shall the mating thrush o'erwhelm.
Yea, I have even known
Tom-tit usurp his realm.
TO THE SWIFT
Swift, feathered lightning, swift,
Flesh of flame, wind-fleet,
God who gave you your good gift
Gave me only two slow feet.
Countries merge within the span
Of your single hour's essay.
I being but a wingless man
Plod my score of miles a day.
Fading into blankness now,
Song that flies and flight that sings,
I am chained to clay, but thou,
Winds are leashed around thy wings.
Art thou faded, swift? then see,
Poet where the swift shall halt,
Poet see the sun assault
The stone towers of Finity.
Swift, dreamless atom, clod,
Swift, thou art slower than
Any eyeless, limbless man.
Him his soul shall drive to God.
FRESHWATER