Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/183

 But I would have that your last look at me Be not like this; for I would scan to-day Strong thoughts on all your faces no regret, No still commiseration oh, not that! No doubt, no fear. A man may be as brave As Ajax in the fury of his arms, And in the midmost warfare of his thoughts Be frail as Paris. . . For the love, therefore, That brothered us when we stood back that day From Delium the love that holds us now More than it held us at Amphipolis Forget you not that he who in his work Would mount from these low roads of measured shame To tread the leagueless highway must fling first And fling forevermore beyond his reach The shackles of a slave who doubts the sun. There is no servitude so fraudulent As of a sun-shut mind ; for 't is the mind That makes you craven or invincible, Diseased or puissant. .The mind will pay Ten thousand fold and be the richer then To grant new service; but the world pays hard, And accurately sickens till in years The dole has eked its end and there is left What all of you are noting on all days In these Athenian streets, where squandered men Drag ruins of half -warriors to the grave Or to Hippocrates." His head fell back, And he lay still with wearied eyes half-closed. We waited, but a few faint words yet stayed: "Kind friends," he said, "friends I have known so long, Though I have jested with you in time past, Though I have stung your pride with epithets