Venice is an excellent place to come to from Crawfordsville, Indiana. (Pavannes and Divagations) Cimmerian? Anyway, a swart day, Its silence immense, and unfinished. The leaden water pleated itself As our boat drew close to the quay. We passed through the aisle of bambini, (White stones with colored photographs, Cut flowers in tender urns, The pebbles washed, the graves shut and tidy), And found the poet from Crawfordsville In a dank, shady plot, EZRA POUND, drilled into lichened rock, Readable but not believable. No sylva nympharum shone Around him, tremulously clear. No goddess of fair knees or cave of Nerea, No gold-leaved, pleached arbor of stone. Olga alone, faithful and morose, Shared his bracket of sour undergrowth, Where someone had knelt to plant the myrtle, Covering them both. Whatever he might be writing Wrathfully against our age Moulders unheard, unwanted On that tangled page. Aletha, goddess of sea-farers, defend him. He fished by obsinate isles. In the gloom, what further betrayals Gather the dark against him? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: 9. THE AUTUMNAL [BEAUTY] by JOHN DONNE CHRISMUS IS A-COMIN' by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR COUNTING THE BEATS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 47 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE DARK FOREST by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS CELEBRATION ODE by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN |