Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/174

 To find him, the gold-throated forward call, What way but one, what but the forward way, Shall after that call guide him ? When his ears Have earned an inward skill to methodize The clash of all crossed voices and all noises, How shall he grope to be confused again, As he has been, by discord? When his eyes Have read the book of wisdom in the sun, And after dark deciphered it on earth, How shall he turn them back to scan some huge Blood-lettered protest of bewildered men That hunger while he feeds where they would starve And all absurdly perish?" Killigrew Looked hard for a subtile object on the wall, And, having found it, sighed. The Captain paused: If he grew tedious, most assuredly Did he crave pardon of us ; he had feared Beforehand that he might be wearisome, But there was not much more of it, he said, No more than just enough. And we rejoiced That he should look so kindly on us then. ("Commend me to a dying man's grimace For absolute humor, always," Killigrew Maintains; but I know better.) "Work for them, You tell me? Work the folly out of them? Go back to them and teach them how to climb, While you teach caterpillars how to fly? You tell me that Alnaschar is a fool Because he dreams? And what is this you ask? I make him wise ? I teach him to be still? While you go polishing the Pyramids,