INCLUSIVE EDITION, 1885-1918 653
Some cultivate in broths impure
The clients of our body these, Increasing without Venus, cure,
Or cause, disease.
Others the heated wheel extol,
And all its offspring, whose concern Is how to make it farthest roll
And fastest turn.
Me, much incurious if the hour
Present, or to be paid for, brings Me to Brundusium by the power
Of wheels or wings;
Me, in whose breast no flame hath burned
Life-long, save that by Pindar lit, Such lore leaves cold. I am not turned
Aside to it
More than when, sunk in thought profound Of what the unaltering Gods require,
My steward (friend but slave) brings round Logs for my fire.
"LUKANNON"
(SONG OF THE SEAL-ROOKERIES. ALEUTIAN ISLANDS)
T MET my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!) Where roaring on the ledges the summer ground-swell
rolled. I heard them lift the chorus that drowned the breakers'
song The Beaches of Lukannon two million voices strong!
