Methinks I spy Almighty holding in
His hand the crystal sky and sun in't bright:
As candle and bright lantern lightening
The world with this bright lantern's flaming light,
Endungeoning all darkness underground,
Making all sunshine day heavenward abound.

The spiritual world this world doth, Lord, outvie;
Its sky this crystal lantern doth o'ermatch.
Its sun Thou art, that in'ts bright canopy
Outshines that candle darkness doth dispatch.
Thy crystal globe of glorious sunshine furled,
Light, life and heat in't Sundayeth the world.

A Deity of Love Incorporate
My Lord, lies in thy Flesh, in Dishes stable
Ten thousand times more rich than golden Plate
In golden Services upon thy Table,
To feast thy People with. What Feast is this!
Where richest Love lies Cookt in e'ry Dish?

A Feast, a Feast, a Feast of Spiced Wine
Of Wines upon the Lees, refined well
Of Fat things full of Marrow, things Divine
Of Heavens blest Cookery which doth excell.
The Smell of Lebanon, and Carmell sweet
Are Earthly damps unto this Heavenly reech.

BY BARRY PAIN

1. — ( Macaulay, who made it )

P OUR, VARLET , pour the water,
The water steaming hot!
A spoonful for each man of us,
Another for the pot!
We shall not drink from amber,
Nor Capuan slave shall mix
For us the snows of Athos
With port at thirty-six;

ALBIUS
Wake! Our mirth begins to die;
Quicken it with tunes and wine.
Raise your notes; you're out; fie, fie!
This drowsiness is an ill sign.
We banish him the choir of gods,
That droops again:
Then all are men,
For here's not one but nods....
HERMOGENES

Then, in a free and lofty strain,
Our broken tunes we thus repair;
CRISPINUS

And we answer them again,
Running division on the panting air;
BOTH

To celebrate this feast of sense,
As free from scandal as offence.
HERMOGENES

AUTOCRAT — PROFESSOR — POET

At a Bookstore

Anno Domini 1972

A CRAZY bookcase, placed before
A low-price dealer's open door;
Therein arrayed in broken rows
A ragged crew of rhyme and prose,
The homeless vagrants, waifs, and strays
Whose low estate this line betrays
(Set forth the lesser birds to lime)
Your CHOICE AMONG THESE BOOKS 1 DIME !

Ho! dealer; for its motto's sake
This scarecrow from the shelf I take;
Three starveling volumes bound in one,

The wind sighs in the reeds — autumn on the rustic shore.
His raincoat covered with raindrops, he returns alone in his boat.
Do not hate this place for its wind and its waves:
there are wind and waves everywhere, and everywhere, sadness.

Pines and cedars, a hundred feet of green, clinging to the earth.
The hermit's robe is ragged, his hair, spotted with grey.
The desolate mountain is silent — no human voices here!
Among the wolves and tigers, he reads the Tao te ching.

The mountain pavilion is silent — few people visit me here.
The bramble gate is patched with mud, my clothes are patched with
leaves.
I never rise from my bamboo bench — my hair is white as snow;
I no longer have a mind to ask for the secret of Zen.

Among red leaves and green mountains, white clouds fly.
White-shinned horses prance on beams of setting sunlight.
This scene — here before my eyes — is beautiful,
but so hard to put in a poem!
I just can't get the words right, it's driving me out of my mind!

1

Last year, with jade hands you offered cups of tea
boiled with snow brushed from the petals of plum blossoms!
" I'll recite fine poems for you, and serve you fine tea:
you'll remember forever the fifth house on West Bank! "

2

" Next year you must come again
and taste our tea once more
when the whole mountain is covered, front and back,
with blossoming cherry trees.
Please write a letter and let me know
when you'll be getting here —
I'll take you myself to pay a visit