Edwin Arlington Robinson — Bokardo

Well, Bokardo, here we are;        &nbsp Make yourself at home. Look around—you haven't far        &nbsp To look—and why be dumb? Not the place that used to be, Not so many things to see; But there's room for you and me.        &nbsp And you—you've come. Talk a little; or, if not,        &nbsp Show me with a sign Why it was that you forgot        &nbsp What was yours and mine. Friends, I gather, are small things In an age when coins are kings; Even at that, one hardly flings        &nbsp Friends before swine. Rather strong? I knew as much,        &nbsp For it made you speak. No offense to swine, as such,        &nbsp But why this hide-and-seek? You have something on your side, And you wish you might have died, So you tell me. And you tried        &nbsp One night last week? You tried hard? And even then        &nbsp Found a time to pause? When you try as hard again,        &nbsp You'll have another cause. When you find yourself at odds With all dreamers of all gods, You may smite yourself with rods—        &nbsp But not the laws. Though they seem to show a spite        &nbsp Rather devilish, They move on as with a might        &nbspStronger than your wish. Still, however strong they be, They bide man's authority: Xerxes, when he flogged the sea,        &nbsp May've scared a fish. It's a comfort, if you like,        &nbsp To keep honor warm, But as often as you strike        &nbsp The laws, you do no harm. To the laws, I mean. To you— That's another point of view, One you may as well indue With some alarm. Not the most heroic face        &nbsp To present, I grant; Nor will you insure disgrace        &nbsp By fearing what you want. Freedom has a world of sides, And if reason once derides Courage, then your courage hides        &nbsp A deal of cant. Learn a little to forget        &nbsp Life was once a feast; You aren't fit for dying yet,        &nbsp So don't be a beast. Few men with a mind will say, Thinking twice, that they can pay Half their debts of yesterday,        &nbsp Or be released. There's a debt now on your mind        &nbsp More than any gold? And there's nothing you can find        &nbsp Out there in the cold? Only—what's his name?—Remorse? And Death riding on his horse? Well, be glad there's nothing worse        &nbsp Than you have told. Leave Remorse to warm his hands        &nbsp Outside in the rain. As for Death, he understands,        &nbsp And he will come again. Therefore, till your wits are clear, Flourish and be quiet—here. But a devil at each ear        &nbsp Will be a strain? Past a doubt they will indeed,        &nbsp More than you have earned. I say that because you need        &nbsp Ablution, being burned? Well, if you must have it so, Your last flight went rather low. Better say you had to know        &nbsp What you have learned. And that's over. Here you are,        &nbsp Battered by the past. Time will have his little scar,        &nbsp But the wound won't last. Nor shall harrowing surprise Find a world without its eyes If a star fades when the skies        &nbsp Are overcast. God knows there are lives enough,        &nbsp Crushed, and too far gone Longer to make sermons of,        &nbsp And those we leave alone. Others, if they will, may rend The worn patience of a friend Who, though smiling, sees the end,        &nbsp With nothing done. But your fervor to be free        &nbsp Fled the faith it scorned; Death demands a decency        &nbsp Of you, and you are warned. But for all we give we get Mostly blows? Don't be upset; You, Bokardo, are not yet        &nbsp Consumed or mourned. There'll be falling into view        &nbsp Much to rearrange; And there'll be a time for you        &nbsp To marvel at the change. They that have the least to fear Question hardest what is here; When long-hidden skies are clear,        &nbsp The stars look strange.