He followed what pursuit could not discover
Nor time disclose nor death surprise and bind.
Over the hills, he sang, and far away—
She never knew that land nor where it lay.
(2)
Well, he was drunk. That much was clear,
Or not quite clear but certain.
Queer
The way a rising moon will burn
Green copper!
Thing you'll never learn
From books: but out of life and beer
Or beer and life you may discern
Great truths—as that a tower gleams
In moon-fire like a torch and seems
A toppling brand of burnt emprise.
No teacher else is half so wise
[ 2 ]
