To Laughter

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To Laughter

Postby pitchford » Sat Feb 19, 2011 6:07 pm

I.
Like the first half-light promise of the Dawn
When deep as death has been the reign of Night;
Like golden raylets dropping from the Sun

To wash the gloom-stained world in happy Light;
Like sudden hum of near-forgotten song;
Like all things fair and good and glad and right

When they put to flight things sad and dull and wrong;
Like a deep sigh when a weary task is done;
Come, whirl, golden Laughter! our dull-grey lives among.

II.
Come, rosy Laughter, be our childish guest;
Come play your glad games in our humble home,
Come pipe your tunes, the wildest, merriest

That ever yet leapt from lyre – O Laughter! come,
And all your store of fairy treasures bring:
Mysterious joys that sparkle in the gloom;

Behind the city’s din, the murmuring
Of angels’ song a child’s ear hears the best,
Of angels’ song child’s lips alone can sing.

III.
We have the vain things for which we toil and fret;
Whatever we desire, that we do;
Whatever it is we lust for, that we get;

But what does it profit, Laughter, without you?
The miser starves upon his pile of gold;
The glutton’s soul grows gaunt and wastes clean through;

The health fanatic’s body soon grows old;
The power-monger’s sun is sure to set;
Aye! all our gains into heaps of loss are roll’d.

IV.
Come to me, Laughter! deep has been my groan:
My sorrowings, what sad poet’s pen could tell?
What agonies, what palsies I have known

Here where all Paradise must turn to Hell.
I bleed – but let my blood not flow in vain!
I shiver stone-struck – break the Gorgon’s spell!

My tongue is thick with thirst – damp it with your rain!
Turn to a pleasure-throb my pulsing moan,
To ecstasies bitter-sweet my ingrown pain.

V.
If I could leave this world of petty care
And pettier pleasure turning soon to gall,
And follow you hard, as only a child would dare,

Leaving behind my mad ambitions all,
O Laughter! would you turn my sackcloth grey
To robes of joy and pleasure-crown full tall?

My mourning into dancing? night to day?
Then would I cast out the troubles I held dear
And let the fair child Laughter in to play.
pitchford
 
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