Our tent a little, bring us news
Of the great world we have lost for—this!
What fool exclaims—‘ to lose!” ? To lose?
Ay! earth and heaven for one small kiss !
But he shall sing beside our fire
The epic of the world’s desire;
How Freedom fares, how Art yet revels
Sane in the dance of dogs and devils.
His thunder voice shall climb and crash,
Scourge liars with tongue’s lightning lash,
Through ranks of smitten tyrants drive,
Till bosoms heave, and eyes outflash,
And it is good to be alive.
He shall ride off at dawn, and we
Shall look upon our life again ;
You old, and all your beauty be
Broken, and mine a broken brain.
Yet we shall know ; delighting still
In the sole laughter death derides
In vain; the indomitable will,
Still burning in the spirit, guides
Our hearts to truth ; we see, we know
How foolish were the things he said,
And answer in the afterglow
How good it is that we are dead.
Will you not come? Or, where the surf
Beats on the coral, and the palm
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