Tag Archives: Humility

“And Comfort Comes”

chaucer1

“And Comfort Comes”

And comfort comes too late from stations on the bank
Of all great rivers, benchmarks, watersheds
And monuments petrified as zeitgeists; glories led
By strange humility in masters whose histories are blank
With whom generations cavil and invoke
In lesser moments a meaner age,  a leaning toward
The more prosaïc goals framed to ward
Off meteoric national malaise. These, the Titans, evoke
Wonder in the people, and awe
Amongst their artisans, and in the hour such light
Cannot be masked nor can the transitory might
Of kings suppress such eagles, neither nets nor censors, nor the law.
And then comes Chaucer, then Shakespeare, Fathers of the modern text…
And what are tongues that roar so loud and thunder in the index?

william-shakespeare-007

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“His Witness”

iam

His Witness”

His witness stares blankly at the glory of his station.
No interloper, no misinterpretation, no sweet confirmation
Of another’s fantasy; he has no genuine ostentation
In the claim no, nothing in the upsurge, nor delicious elation
In the simple fact: he is and while he is,
His heart does not forget to beat, his breath is steady,
The observer knows he is not ready
And therefore records of his
Being notwithstanding cannot be viewed as false
Insofar as he is not yet seen. His is an etching not in stone
Or glass, nor is it traced in memory; alone
And in majestic company with ineffable effects, the cause
Remains as do his signs that have no need of confirmation or reply
In answer for their presence; when his name is called, he says, “Here am I.”