Page:The Poet in the Desert.djvu/65

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Oh, noble company of bastards,

Beloved of great Nature,

You are her petted children, bom of her own desire ;

She has given you the stars for playthings and taught the

winds to bring you offerings ; She has said to the sun these are your brothers and to

the moon these are your sisters ; She has lain close to you in your secret cradle and has

whispered to you all the music of the unknown

sanctuaries and has dangled before your eyes the

pictures of the undiscovered world. For you she has woven wreaths of bay And has crowned your brows with laurel ; She has not delayed your coming for a priest's

incantation ; Nor held back the mystery of your creation Till the State give its consent. She has not branded "Bastard" on your smooth, soft

palms. Nor on the pink soles of your little feet. The great Mother is ignorant and indifferent That you are baby breakers of the Law, And she laughs scornfully at the laws of the Rulers. She has set her own brand upon your souls, And has given you place in the glorious company Of poets, musicians, painters, declarers of knowledge. Governors and captains, seers and conquerors, William the Bastard, of Normandy, And Alexander Hamilton, And the Great Deliverer, standing alone, Sad ; silent ; rugged ; like a storm-beaten spruce On a seaward cliff ; m.elancholy ; misunderstood of men, And infinitely patient.

TRUTH: Birth earlier than Death ; The mystery including all mysteries ; Next step toward the Infinite ;

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