restoration poetry

restoration poetry

it might have been written hundreds of times
i thought i saw .. is such a happy phrase

a single voice in the distance “you must expect to tumble”

then, later
“why do you speak with your eyes closed?”
and, “how did you manage to see that?”

he left the room a few months ago
a beautifully empty room.

meanwhile,
the ground about the house maintains it there
and in their minds so deep did print the sense
the ancient cup or modern chair were
less ornaments to those that wear
a forced, obscure mythology to convince
and we elsewhere, still seek for them in vain.

so those that think, and do but think they know
a fellow that has neither art nor brain
to entice him to a throne again
where men are dull and conversation low
he had hard words ready to show why it seemed
that some before him writ with greater skill.

he saw the town’s one half in rubbish lie
resolved to conquer, or resolved to die
‘tis our example that instills
and boldly dares invade that heart
of One to mow vast crowds of people down
the matter of Fact has become the slightest part

his anger reached that rage which surpassed his art;
no name but your own shall be found