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While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening    
    to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
    mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots 
    to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and deca-
    dence; and home to the mother.
    
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stub-
    bornly long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains: 
    shine, perishing republic.
But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thick-
    ening center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there 
    are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, 
    insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught--they say--
    God, when he walked on earth.

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 5 Sep 2008 5:55 AM | Viewed: 9330 times

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