Classic Poem

As Tate grows old some child will fondle him
as his mother's children fondled grandpapa.
Be resolute, for there is no solution;
as I grow old, dark slumber fades to gray.
Ulysses Grant fought for the Constitution
and chewed his old cigars while it whirled over
the piazza steps, into an ancient dump-cart
where films of dust so lightly lie upon
Constantine's Declaration of Independence.
Habeas corpus, requiescat in pace.
Booth evaded the fame he sought, by speaking
justly of Lincoln, sic semper tyrannis .
It was banal enough to be immortal.
You, Judas, sacrificed for our Messiah.
You, Brutus, needful for our Caesar cult.
Yours is the signal deed of all our history
for pure liberty, for freedom, not reform.
Some men fight Fate with its own fatal weapons,
and ever believe they kill themselves for the life
of the thing they kill, as Lincoln died for the Union.

Others who fail find that no path lies open
but the bridle-path of remaining dignified.
It took Robert E. Lee three days to become a " traitor, "
and he rode to his gray end, a college president.
When men of action fail, and failing, ask
sanctuary of thinkers, destiny rests.
There is nothing more to say. Can Tate and I
stand against the black drift of storm

forever changeless, against a changing sky?