Page:The man against the sky; a book of poems.djvu/80

 Of life itself and bring down fruit unheard-of,— And, throwing in the bruised and whole together, Prepare a wine to make us drunk with wonder; And if he live, there'll be a sunset spell Thrown over him as over a glassed lake That yesterday was all a black wild water.

God send he live to give us, if no more, What now's a-rampage in him, and exhibit, With a decent half-allegiance to the ages An earnest of at least a casual eye Turned once on what he owes to Gutenberg, And to the fealty of more centuries Then are as yet a picture in our vision. "There's time enough,—I'll do it when I'm old, And we're immortal men," he says to that; And then he says to me, "Ben, what's 'immortal'?