 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
221
AFTER CONSTRUING
Lord Cæsar, when you sternly wrote
The story of your grim campaigns,
And watched the ragged smoke-wreath float
Above the burning plains,
The story of your grim campaigns,
And watched the ragged smoke-wreath float
Above the burning plains,
Amid the impenetrable wood,
Amid the camp's incessant hum,
At eve, beside the tumbling flood
In high Avaricum,
Amid the camp's incessant hum,
At eve, beside the tumbling flood
In high Avaricum,
You little recked, imperious head,
When shrilled your shattering trumpet's noise,
Your frigid sections would be read
By bright-eyed English boys.
When shrilled your shattering trumpet's noise,
Your frigid sections would be read
By bright-eyed English boys.
Ah me! who penetrates to-day
The secret of your deep designs?
Your sovereign visions, as you lay
Amid the sleeping lines?
The secret of your deep designs?
Your sovereign visions, as you lay
Amid the sleeping lines?
The Mantuan singer pleading stands;
From century to century
He leans and reaches wistful hands,
And cannot bear to die.
From century to century
He leans and reaches wistful hands,
And cannot bear to die.
222
But you are silent, secret, proud,
No smile upon your haggard face,
As when you eyed the murderous crowd
Beside the statue's base.
No smile upon your haggard face,
As when you eyed the murderous crowd
Beside the statue's base.
I marvel: that Titanic heart
Beats strongly through the arid page,
And we, self-conscious sons of art,
In this bewildering age,
Beats strongly through the arid page,
And we, self-conscious sons of art,
In this bewildering age,
Like dizzy revellers stumbling out
Upon the pure and peaceful night,
Are sobered into troubled doubt,
As swims across our sight
Upon the pure and peaceful night,
Are sobered into troubled doubt,
As swims across our sight
The ray of that sequestered sun,
Far in the illimitable blue,—
The dream of all you left undone,
Of all you dared to do.
Far in the illimitable blue,—
The dream of all you left undone,
Of all you dared to do.
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |