2
He is drunk, that man—
Drunk as a lord, a lord of the bibulous past.
He shouts wittily from his end of the car to the man in the corner;
He bows to me with chivalrous apologies.
He philosophizes, plays with the wisdom of the ages,
Flings off his rags,
Displays his naked soul—
Athletic, beautiful, grotesque.
In the good time coming,
When men drink no more,
Shall we never see a nude soul dancing
Stript and free
In the temple of his god?
Drunk as a lord, a lord of the bibulous past.
He shouts wittily from his end of the car to the man in the corner;
He bows to me with chivalrous apologies.
He philosophizes, plays with the wisdom of the ages,
Flings off his rags,
Displays his naked soul—
Athletic, beautiful, grotesque.
In the good time coming,
When men drink no more,
Shall we never see a nude soul dancing
Stript and free
In the temple of his god?
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