108
what's o'clock
May need to clap to it, and he, at least,
Swam high above convention in his thoughts
Under the criss-cross beams and chiming bells
Old Neron sat, cheating himself with dreams,
Spreading them out before him, one by one,
As dowagers tap down their playing cards
With claw-like hands in games of solitaire.
His frozen eyes gleamed at them as they came
Out of the darkness from an eldritch past
Which seemed no longer his, yet tasted sweet
In far-off recollection. Childhood first—
But what was childhood? A small, fragile thing
Of gay mishaps, and silly, bootless joys,
An eagerness of folly over tops,
Or kites which tugged and sharply broke their strings
Leaving a heartache Neron chirped to think
No greatest misery could give him now.
Youth bettered this. His jellied blood became
Less solid pondering upon the heat
Swam high above convention in his thoughts
Under the criss-cross beams and chiming bells
Old Neron sat, cheating himself with dreams,
Spreading them out before him, one by one,
As dowagers tap down their playing cards
With claw-like hands in games of solitaire.
His frozen eyes gleamed at them as they came
Out of the darkness from an eldritch past
Which seemed no longer his, yet tasted sweet
In far-off recollection. Childhood first—
But what was childhood? A small, fragile thing
Of gay mishaps, and silly, bootless joys,
An eagerness of folly over tops,
Or kites which tugged and sharply broke their strings
Leaving a heartache Neron chirped to think
No greatest misery could give him now.
Youth bettered this. His jellied blood became
Less solid pondering upon the heat
