And clear thoughts come to me,
Pictures, now near, now far, of transient fantasy.
Happy I am, at peace
In my own company.
So Thomas Edison
Never drank his medicine;
Blackstone and Hoyle
Refused cod-liver oil;
Socrates and Pluto
Ate dessert without finishing their potato;
So spinach was too spinachy
For Leonardo da Vinaci;
Forgive this little singsong,
It's just a crazy spring song.
But if rabbits have habits,
And stallions have battalions
If purity is obscurity,
Let us leave Atlantis,
To Serendipity.
;
-
)))
So even the tender and the dear
Like phantoms through memory stray-
Creation of sweet desire,
That Faith can alone bid stay:
They cast off the cloak of the real
And vanish away.
