On Spenser

Hear of that lovely hoary tale of old

Folding its speculations round us, and never yet over-sold

Encapturing in its raptures cheering turbulent dull clay;

Wanderings into wolds of words in a wonderful melee

 

Recover on that good rush; for blood slips their veins, and wails

The blasted halting labour making turns on bacon mills

Bidden privation-engines begotten under Saturn’s clog,

Adminstrative and manufactory

 

Are worked, sealed, and prevented, barred from love’s bejewelled isles rare

Where motions, skipping winds will feather loose the shaken hair

Ceaselessly, and carelessly, unchairing cares away;

Unreason’s jailer press-ganged, as a better proper day

 

Sees restitution’s heartbeat learn these portative array

Inventive; bringing purlieus on the estates of liberty,

Thought-schemas of scene-takers, baggage-porters of what-seems

Perfection’s mind-wrought castles, real as bitten aubergines;

 

Emerge in sweet battalions pouring nonce-lost make-believes

Surfeitis of stricken enchantments, with enhancements evergreen

Lake islands, ladies bright, harsh scaly dragons; parlous sighs

Cast all deep spells on antique-fashioned former-faerie plies,

 

Half-hidden, half-revealled a passing Pilgrim’s permanent Way

Spans over cursed abyss, where the unpleasant world’s things lay,

Like sailing suns at eventime, unquenched of ancient fire

Are there put out, extinguished, and long lingering hours hold sway

 

Till Love’s renewal speaks, arrests; thoughts once again desire

And come again like sunshine storms a wonted world entire;

Bleeding, a skylight casment flares up, a buckled hope mushrooms

Lifting the clear brained consciousness to God’s voluminous rooms:

 

Follow the signs, marauder, spur your charger, make your day.

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