13. WHEN SHALL I...
When shall i be truly wise, truly wise?
'Twould be when troubled thoughts like sparks fly
From a breast inflamed by a breath of sighs
While past deeds are shaped in Memory's eye.
When light shineth to me out of the dark,
Ah! happy memories my foolish deeds
Would make. And they shall be my Noah's ark.
Yet, when dark is dark, they appear as weeds.
I have to my senses given no heed
That I did commit myself so low.
Yet of what sort is this mysterious seed?
When it sprouts, I shall surely come to know.
What a foolish foolish foolish deed!
But this for reminiscence I need.
14. TO H.G. WELLS
Wells, I do thy Time Machine need
For none my rousing voice do heed.
My heart cries out for heaven's sweetness
Of friendliness, rich peace and kindness.
I therefore needeth to share
Wine which my taste doth prepare.
And if chance be mine to thank thee first,
Then will I recede to quench my thirst
With nature's sparkling wines. I'll introduce
Myself to Milton who longed to keep a house
Where almighty God in all his splendour
Doth reside and all His blessings pour
As he poured on David the shepherd king,
Of whose line Jesus the Christ didst spring.
15. MILTON
Milton, thou hast woven a web so fine!
Thy sceptre sways in this expansive realm
Where thou toasteth on many a sublime theme
Which come meandering for thee to dine.
Critic flies have blindly flown with a sigh
Into thy web which thou hast finely reared;
And also thy trumpeting voice they heard:
"Kings for such a tomb might wish to die."
Then migrating Time came at its leisure
And with its beak thy pinioned fame didst preen
To no highth we can with rules measure.
Then ye parted in quest of high heaven,
Leaving behind an immortal treasure
With which this earthly grave is proudly strewn.
16. TO MICHAEL JOHNSON, 1985
Oh; you have lost your nineteenth year,
Wafted away by the strong tide - into the past.
Yet my friend, griefs have I none to bear,
For 'tis like the leaves of spring cast.
But the past blossoms in the museum of the mind,
As does a flower in your incentive art.
It brings reminiscences sweet and kind
And bears joyous fruits in the heart.
And, my friend, choose the right word
Which on earth ye need to spend;
For these things please most the Lord -
The same for which ye He did send.
And the future waits for thee to taste;
And let not the chance go to waste.
17. TO `MIKHAIL JONSON', 1986
Dear friend,
With verses once again,
I extend
Birthday greetings to you;
But this time I fain
Have brought something else too!
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