Classic Poem

Eulogizes Humpty Dumpty

Upon the wall, frowned on by envious stars,
He sat, secure above the lurching world.
The shrill, sweet business of the venturous day
Flowed at his feet and, sweeping forward, sang.
Over his head the lavish heavens spread
Sunset and sun, twilight and burning cloud;
And every radiant and launching wind,
Bore him cool pleasures on its smooth, blue back.
And yellow morning, slipping over the hills,
Shedding her cloak of dawn, reached out her hands
And clasped him first of all things.
Now he lies,
Fallen, irrevocably ruined, here.
He, who was once as keen and tuned for joy
As harps made ready for a hero's welcome,
Or girls in April trembling against love.
There are no kings, and no king's cunning horses
Can place him back upon his excellent eminence;
Not all the workmen from the shops of Heaven
Can re-establish him or send the blood
Thrilling with insolent music through his veins.
Deaf to the trumpeting winds and seas he lies.
Yet in this brave and silent unconcern
He shall command a rapt, exulting reverence;
Quiet and awe shall blaze about his head,
Kindling a glory in our darkened lives.