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Transitional Poem
All furniture out of fashion. So the fireGuts the proud champions of the real: so TroyCremates her dead selves and ascends to higher.
Grecians awake, salute the happy norm!Now may Achilles find employment still;And once again the blood-lust will grow warm,Gloating on champions he could never kill.And if Scamander rears up and pursues,This ring of rubbish fire will baffle allHis rage. Hero, you're safe, in the purlieusOf God's infernal acre king and thrall.
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When April comes aliveOut of the small bird's throat,Achilles in the sunshineKept on his overcoat.Trojan and Greek at battle,Helen wantoning—None but heroic metalCould ignore the spring.
When honeysuckle and summerSuffocate the lane,That sulky boil was brokenAnd I at last a man.
