Page:Collected poems Robinson, Edwin Arlington.djvu/365

  Miniver loved the Medici,
 * Albeit he had never seen one;

He would have sinned incessantly
 * Could he have been one.

Miniver cursed the commonplace
 * And eyed a khaki suit with loathing;

He missed the mediæval grace
 * Of iron clothing.

Miniver scorned the gold he sought,
 * But sore annoyed was he without it;

Miniver thought, and thought, and thought,
 * And thought about it.

Miniver Cheevy, born too late,
 * Scratched his head and kept on thinking;

Miniver coughed, and called it fate,
 * And kept on drinking.



the Past and Unavailing Out of cloudland we are steering: After groping, after fearing, Into starlight we come trailing, And we find the stars are true. Still, O comrade, what of you? You are gone, but we are sailing, And the old ways are all new.

For the Lost and Unreturning We have drifted, we have waited; Uncommanded and unrated,