COLLECTED POEMS
For a slow moment at me then
With conscious eyes that had the gleam,
The shine, before the stroke: "You know
The ways of us, the way we dream:
Of You know the glory we have won,
You know the glamour we have lost;
You see me now, you look at me,
And yes, you pity me, almost;
"But never mind the pity no,
Confess the faith you can't conceal;
And if you frown, be not like one
Of those who frown before they feel.
"For there is truth, and half truth, yes,
And there's a quarter truth, no doubt;
But mine was more than half. . . . You smile?
You understand? You bear me out?
"You always knew that I was right
You are my friend and I have tried
Your faith your love." The gleam grew small,
The stroke was easy, and he died.
I saw the dim look change itself
To one that never will be dim;
I saw the dead flesh to the grave,
But that was not the last of him.
For what was his to live lives yet :
Truth, quarter truth, death cannot reach;
Nor is it always what we know
That we are fittest here to teach.
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