And all the while they mocked him and reviled,
And heaped upon him words of infamy,
He stood serenely there, and only smiled
In pity at the blind intensity
Of hate; for well he knew that Love alone
Can cure the ills of men — of nations, too —
Though unregenerate mobs their prophets stone,
And crucify the gentle Christ anew.
So he but smiled, and drained with quiet grace
The bitter cup for lips too eloquent,
And, dauntless, took the soul-degrading place
Designed for thieves — this Prophet heaven-sent!

Ancient Pistol, peacock Payne,
Brute in manner, rogue in grain,
How you squeezed me, peacock Payne!
Scared was I and out I ran
And found by Paul's an honest man.
Peace be with you, peacock Payne,
I have left you, you remain
Ancient Pistol, sealskin Payne.

Ancient of Days, old friend, no one believes you'll come back.
No one believes in his own life anymore.

The moon, like a dead heart, cold and unstartable, hangs by a thread
At the earth's edge,
Unfaithful at last, splotching the ferns and the pink shrubs.

In the other world, children undo the knots in their tally strings.
They sing songs, and their fingers blear.

And here, where the swan hums in his socket, where bloodroot
And belladonna insist on our comforting,
Where the fox in the canyon wall empties our hands, ecstatic for more,

1. Ancient of Days, who sittest throned in glory,
2. O Holy Father, who hast led thy children
To thee all knees are bent, all voices pray; Thy love has blest the
In all the ages, with the fire and cloud, Through seas dry-shod, through
wide world's wondrous story With light and life since Eden's dawning day.
weary wastes bewild'ring; To thee, in reverent love, our hearts are bowed.

3. O Holy Jesus, Prince of Peace and Saviour,
To thee we owe the peace that still prevails,
Stilling the rude wills of men's wild behavior,

An ancient long-horned bovine
Lay dying by the river;
There was lack of vegetation
And the cold winds made him shiver;
A cowboy sat beside him
With sadness in his face,
To see his final passing —
This last of a noble race.

The ancient eunuch struggled
And raised his shaking head,
Sayin', " I care not to linger
When all my friends are dead.
These Jerseys and these Holsteins,
They are no friends of mine;
They belong to the nobility
Who live across the brine.

" Tell the Durhams and the Herefords

The ancient Barbarossa, the Kaiser Frederick old,
In subterranean castle ensorcelled state doth hold.

Dead was the Kaiser never, he lives in mystic sleep.
Long has he slumbered lonely in that enchanted keep.

The glory of the Empire with him has passed away;
But Emperor and Empire shall have one wakening-day.

The throne is all of ivory where sits the Kaiser dread,
Of porphyry the table whereon he leans his head.

Like fire not flax the beard is, that thick and long has grown
Right through the propping table that is of marble stone.

The anchor is weighed, and the sails they are set,
Away, Rio!
The maids we are leaving we'll never forget,
For we're bound for the Rio Grande,
And away, Rio! Aye, Rio!
We're bound away this very day,
For we're bound for the Rio Grande!

So it's pack up your donkey and get under way,
The girls we are leaving can take our half pay.

We've a jolly good ship and a jolly good crew,
A jolly good mate and a good skipper, too.

We'll sing as we heave to the maidens we leave,
And you who are listening, good-by to you.

Anansi son name Stan'-up-stick. As Anansi poor, Stan'-up-stick don' notice him. An' Stan'-up-stick buy a gold ring give him daughter Absa; de ring cost a t'ousen' pound; it cut wid dimon' brooches an' spliced wid hair. An' de daughter give it to a gentleman name William Riley. When Stan'-up-stick see William Riley wid de ring, he sing,
There is a ring I give my daughter,
It cost a t'ousan' pound.
It cut with di'mon brooches
An' splic-ed with my hair.
De daughter sing,

If you have them now, sweet Riley,
Pray send them back to me.
William sing,

An old maid early eer I knew
Ought but the love that on me grew
And now Im coverd oer & oer
And wish that I had been a Whore

O I cannot cannot find
The undaunted courage of a Virgin Mind
For Early I in love was crost
Before my flower of love was lost

An evening
when you hear a needle
hit the floor.
A whisky glass on a table breaks
and from the drawer
of countless pasts
emerge unfamiliar cards
incomprehensible codes
the notes
of a mind that is missing.
This is
a world of light and shadow
a world of negatives:
the files of records of the K University Hospital surgical ward.
Blood vessels like the veins of an orchid
make ash-white rivers,
the skin and subcutaneous fat enfolds
a world of darkness.
The dull tactile sense
suitable for touching by rubber gloves,