The Beggar's Song
Poemata LXIV
Under lamplight the man retired Rolled his pack and lay down to rest A passerby this man espied As smoking, he came from the west; "Fear not", this one half said to the air "No train runs in this station tonight, "Nor tomorrow, and I might dare "To say not again, and be right;" The concrete stair led down the way, In half-lit quiet, across the track The electric signs had naught to say And the smoker, not looking back Saw the unknown disappear in night Though under lamps he had laid down No eye would see that passing light Nor the man once dawn had grown A flower white in waiting east With gold and blue and cream besides And disturbed that wand'rer from his rest Or marked him 'mong the homicides; Without a witness, none are known To witness is to popularize What can be said of those long-flown Who have not now yet crossed our eyes? We fancy the things but brought to us As evidence of utmost taste All of us, though some don't trust Their eyes or ears in suchlike haste; But to know of anything at all It must be popularized; If not me, one makes the call Secretly its realized; Or else the poet lays his head A thief, or else a beggar then In morn perhaps he is found dead It's not an if, it is a when.