Transitional Poem
15
And our ingrowing lovesShall meet below earth's spineAnd there shall intertwine,Though Babel falls above.Time, we allow, destroysAll aërial toys:But to assail love's heartHe has no strategy,Unless he suck up the seaAnd pull the earth apart.
6
Dismayed by the monstrous credibilityOf all antinomies, I climbed the fellsTo Easedale Tarn. Could I be child againAnd grip those skirts of cloud the matriarch skyDraggled on mere and hillside? . . . ("So the dogReturns to his vomit," you protest. Well onlyThe dog can tell what virtue lies in his vomit.) Sleep on, you fells and profound dales: there's noMaterial wind or rain can insulateThe mind against its own forked speculation,When once that storm sets in: and then the flashThat bleakly enlightens a few sour acres leaves butA more Egyptian darkness whence it came.
