I | |
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I walk through the long schoolroom questioning; | |
A kind old nun in a white hood replies; | |
The children learn to cipher and to sing, | |
To study reading-books and histories, | |
To cut and sew, be neat in everything | 5 |
In the best modern way - the children's eyes | |
In momentary wonder stare upon | |
A sixty-year-old smiling public man. | |
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II | |
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I dream of a Ledaean body, bent | |
Above a sinking fire. a tale that she | 10 |
Told of a harsh reproof, or trivial event | |
That changed some childish day to tragedy - | |
Told, and it seemed that our two natures blent | |
Into a sphere from youthful sympathy, | |
Or else, to alter Plato's parable, | 15 |
Into the yolk and white of the one shell. | |
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III | |
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And thinking of that fit of grief or rage | |
I look upon one child or t'other there | |
And wonder if she stood so at that age - | |
For even daughters of the swan can share | 20 |
Something of every paddler's heritage - | |
And had that colour upon cheek or hair, | |
And thereupon my heart is driven wild: | |
She stands before me as a living child. | |
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IV | |
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Her present image floats into the mind - | 25 |
Did Quattrocento finger fashion it | |
Hollow of cheek as though it drank the wind | |
And took a mess of shadows for its meat? | |
And I though never of Ledaean kind | |
Had pretty plumage once - enough of that, | 30 |
Better to smile on all that smile, and show | |
There is a comfortable kind of old scarecrow. | |
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V | |
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What youthful mother, a shape upon her lap | |
Honey of generation had betrayed, | |
And that must sleep, shriek, struggle to escape | 35 |
As recollection or the drug decide, | |
Would think her Son, did she but see that shape | |
With sixty or more winters on its head, | |
A compensation for the pang of his birth, | |
Or the uncertainty of his setting forth? | 40 |
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VI | |
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Plato thought nature but a spume that plays | |
Upon a ghostly paradigm of things; | |
Solider Aristotle played the taws | |
Upon the bottom of a king of kings; | |
World-famous golden-thighed Pythagoras | 45 |
Fingered upon a fiddle-stick or strings | |
What a star sang and careless Muses heard: | |
Old clothes upon old sticks to scare a bird. | |
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VII | |
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Both nuns and mothers worship images, | |
But those the candles light are not as those | 50 |
That animate a mother's reveries, | |
But keep a marble or a bronze repose. | |
And yet they too break hearts - O Presences | |
That passion, piety or affection knows, | |
And that all heavenly glory symbolise - | 55 |
O self-born mockers of man's enterprise; | |
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VIII | |
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Labour is blossoming or dancing where | |
The body is not bruised to pleasure soul. | |
Nor beauty born out of its own despair, | |
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil. | 60 |
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer, | |
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole? | |
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance, | |
How can we know the dancer from the dance? | |