The Secret Splendour

O This Old Age..

O this old age that makes a mockery

Of Helen and Troy's fire a waste of love

To Menelaus's blurred and bounded eye!

Alone the poet's will—"Tine shall not move

When once the flawless note is struck"—keeps bright

 The Swan-sired face and the reddening topless towers.

Nought save his reverie knows through human sig

Eternities go flashing mid the hours.

17.11.73

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