The Comrades Poems Old & New: By William Canton |
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| The Great World |
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 | The Comrades |  |
89
The Great World
A wild adventurer, he loved to fare
On wondrous voyages from chair to chair.
He coasted wall and furniture until
He reached the Indies of his wayward will.
His quests recalled th' intrepid days of yore
When tars who woo'd the ocean hugged the shore;
When sirens sang to port and birds to lee,
And rigging brushed the blossom from the tree.
But one spring afternoon a breeze from Spain
Awoke a small Columbus in his brain;
His legs felt sturdy under him; the door,
Through which he'd never passed alone before,
Opened on marvels. Brightness, sound and scent
Called him to go and play with them. He went.
He reached the middle of the village green,
Then stopped and gazed. Great nature, what a scene!
On every side to distances untold
The grass in vast savannas round him rolled.
The cottages were leagues and leagues away.
The enormous spaces that about him lay
Seemed glad to find him little and alone.
A thousand miles up, great white clouds were blown
Across a sky as bright and clear as glass,
And here their shadows raced across the grass.
Cloud-gazing made one's little senses reel,
For all the sky seemed, like a glittering wheel,
To turn clean over.
On wondrous voyages from chair to chair.
He coasted wall and furniture until
He reached the Indies of his wayward will.
His quests recalled th' intrepid days of yore
When tars who woo'd the ocean hugged the shore;
When sirens sang to port and birds to lee,
And rigging brushed the blossom from the tree.
But one spring afternoon a breeze from Spain
Awoke a small Columbus in his brain;
His legs felt sturdy under him; the door,
Through which he'd never passed alone before,
Opened on marvels. Brightness, sound and scent
Called him to go and play with them. He went.
90
Then stopped and gazed. Great nature, what a scene!
On every side to distances untold
The grass in vast savannas round him rolled.
The cottages were leagues and leagues away.
The enormous spaces that about him lay
Seemed glad to find him little and alone.
A thousand miles up, great white clouds were blown
Across a sky as bright and clear as glass,
And here their shadows raced across the grass.
Cloud-gazing made one's little senses reel,
For all the sky seemed, like a glittering wheel,
To turn clean over.
With uneasy mind,
He marked the tall trees waving in the wind.
Each tossed its mazy arms and wagged its head
So grimly that he held his breath for dread.
How had he vexed the beech, the elm, the fir?
Their dreadful voices told how vexed they were.
He thought of home, for what can harm or hurt
He marked the tall trees waving in the wind.
Each tossed its mazy arms and wagged its head
So grimly that he held his breath for dread.
How had he vexed the beech, the elm, the fir?
Their dreadful voices told how vexed they were.
The child whose fingers clutch his mother's skirt?
91
But oh, the horror of those startled eyes!
Between him and that far-off cottage door
Swayed the green terror of a sycamore.
The great tree rocks above him, cries, expands,
And strives to snatch him with a hundred hands.
Oh, never till this moment had he known
How terrible it was to be alone;
Never till now been clear that he was he,
Not one with earth and air and stone and tree,
But something different and quite apart.
And now dismay has filled his little heart.
He drops upon the grass; the earth and skies
Collapse about him as he sobs and cries.
Oh joy of joys! a friend, a helper hears
His piteous wail, compassionates his tears.
A furry head is rubbed against his cheek;
Against his hair, a body soft and sleek.
It is—it is his Puss! O Pussy, hark!
The most breath-catching story you shall hear
That ever child told cat since Vyaghere,
The Tiger, sneezed the first puss in the ark.
92
Can scarce trace shining cloud from shining sea.
Did Pussy laugh and tell him—who can say?—
He need not mind the skies; it was their way.
That as for size and distance, after all
The whole world was comparatively small;
That big things would grow little, far things near
As he grew old; that trees had made men fear
Ever since mother Eve plucked fruit from bough;
'Twas but a freak of theirs to mop and mow,
And catch at stars and clouds with aguish arm;
Green foolish giants they, they did no harm.
Did Pussy in her wisdom answer thus?
Strange sympathies united him and Puss
In those dim days of wonder and romance,
And sympathy projected speech perchance.
In any case, his arms he flung around
Dear Puss, and almost hugged her off the ground;
Got firm on foot; began to recognise
No tree could see him if he shut his eyes;
Set off, determined never more to roam
When once safe housed.
So Pussy led him home.
| The Comrades | |