Mouth open, he was lying, this sick man, And sinking all the while; how had he come To sink? On better nights his dream went flying, Dipping, sailing the pasture of his sleep, But now, since clock and cock, had sunk him down Through mattress, bed, floor, floors beneath, stairs, cellars, Through deep foundations of the manse; still sinking Through unturned earth. How had he cheated space With inadvertent motion or word uttered Of too-close-packed intelligence (such there are) That he should penetrate with sliding ease, Dense earth, compound of ages, granite ribs And groins? Consider, there was some word uttered, Some abracadabra--then like a stage-ghost, Funereally with weeping, down, drowned, lost! Oh, to be a child once more, sprawling at ease, On warm turf of a ruined castle court. Once he had dropped a stone between flat slabs That mask the ancient well, mysteriously Plunging his mind down with it. Hear it go Rattling and rocketing down in secret void. Count slowly one, two, three! and echoes rise Fainter and fainter, merged in the gradual hum Of bees and flies; only a thin draught rises To chill the drowsy air; he for a while Lay without spirit; until that floated back From the deep waters. Oh, to renew now The bliss of repossession, kindly sun Forfeit for ever, and the scent of thyme! Falling, falling! Light closed up behind him, Now stunned by the violent subterrene flow Of rivers, whirling down to hiss below On the flame-axis of this terrible world; Toppling upon their water-fall, O spirit ... SAUL OF TARSUS "Share and share alike In the nest" was the rule, But Paul had a wide throat, He loved his belly-full. Over the edge went Peter, After him went John, True-blooded young nestlings Thrown out, one by one. If Mother Church was proud Of her great cuckoo son, He bit off her simple head Before he had done. STORM: AT THE FARM WINDOW The unruly member (for relief Of aching head) clacks without care; Pastures lie sullen; hung with grief The steading: thunder binds the air. Gulls on the blue sea-surface rock: The cows move lowing to scant shade; Jess lays aside the half-worked smock, Dan, in his ditch, lets fall the spade. * * * * * Now swoops the outrageous hurricane With lightning in steep pitchfork jags; The blanched hill leaps in sheeted rain, Sea masses white to assault the crags. Such menace tottering overhead, Old Jess for ague scolds no more; She sees grey bobtail flung down dead Lightning-blazed by the barn door-- Wonder and panic chase our grief, Purge our thick distempered blood; Man, cattle, harvest shock and sheaf, Stagger below the sluicing flood.... BLACK HORSE LANE