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In The Old Age Of The Soul

Rating: 2.9
I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me
Some strange old lust for deeds.
As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior
The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmet
Brings momentary life and long-fled cunning,
So to my soul grown old -
Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray,
Grown old with namy a hither-coming and hence-going -
Till now they send him dreams and no more deed;
So doth he flame again with might for action,
Forgetful of the council of elders,
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COMMENTS
Georg Hersch 13 December 2005
A wily man indeed, with his cheeky references to Don Quixote. Oh, I love Ezra Pound.
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