Good News

In scudding cloud on high steep meadows shed,
In blaze and thunder, in desire and fear
I learned a secret: hearken in your ears—
“Behold, the daisy has a ring of red.”

Then waxed I like the wind because of this
And ran, like gospel and apocalypse
From door to door with new anarchic lips
Crying the very blasphemy of bliss.

I snap the spear and break the guarded gate
For death and I fear not the face of Kings
I left behind the wild swan's failing wings
Whipped by a whirling love more wild than hate.

In the last wreck of Nature: dark and dread
Shall in eclipse's hideous hieroglyph
One wild form reel on the last rocking cliff
And shout “The daisy has a ring of red.”
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