Saying how, at an alehouse under Cotswold, He had made sure of his very Cleopatra, Drunk with enormous, salvation-contemning Love for a tinker. How, while he hid from Sir Thomas's keepers, Crouched in a ditch and drenched by the midnight Dews, he had listened to gipsy Juliet Rail at the dawning. How at Bankside, a boy drowning kittens Winced at the business; whereupon his sister (Lady Macbeth aged seven) thrust 'em under, Sombrely scornful. How on a Sabbath, hushed and compassionate-- She being known since her birth to the townsfolk-- Stratford dredged and delivered from Avon Dripping Ophelia. So, with a thin third finger marrying Drop to wine-drop domed on the table, Shakespeare opened his heart till sunrise Entered to hear him. London wakened and he, imperturbable, Passed from waking to hurry after shadows ... Busied upon shows of no earthly importance? Yes, but he knew it! THINGS AND THE MAN (IN MEMORIAM, JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN) 1904 'And Joseph dreamed a dream, and he told it his brethren; and they hated him yet the more.'--_Genesis_ XXXVII. 5. Oh ye who hold the written clue To all save all unwritten things, And, half a league behind, pursue The accomplished Fact with flouts and flings, Look! To your knee your baby brings The oldest tale since Earth began-- The answer to your worryings _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_ He, single-handed, met and slew Magicians, Armies, Ogres, Kings. He lonely 'mid his doubting crew-- 'In all the loneliness of wings'-- He fed the flame, he filled the springs, He locked the ranks, he launched the van Straight at the grinning Teeth of Things. _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_ The peace of shocked Foundations flew Before his ribald questionings. He broke the Oracles in two, And bared the paltry wires and strings. He headed desert wanderings, He led his soul, his cause, his clan A little from the ruck of Things. _'Once on a time there was a Man.'_ Thrones, Powers, Dominions block the view With episodes and underlings-- The meek historian deems them true Nor heeds the song that Clio sings-- The simple central truth that stings The mob to boo, the priest to ban; _Things never yet created things-- 'Once on a time there was a Man.'_ A bolt is fallen from the blue. A wakened realm full circle swings Where Dothan's dreamer dreams anew Of vast and farborne harvestings; And unto him an Empire clings That grips the purpose of his plan. My Lords, how think you of these things? _Once--in our time--is there a Man?_ THE BENEFACTORS