children

Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband--weep no more;
Grief-stricken son--weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter --weep no more;
She only just gone home.

Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
Looking down on all his children,
And his eye fell of Sister Caroline,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God's big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.

And God sat back on his throne,

In the years when we were
all children, this inclining
to be alone so much was gentle;
others' time passed fighting,
and one had one's faction,
one's near, one's far-off place,
a path, an animal, a picture.

And I still imagined, that life
would always keep providing
for one to dwell on things within,
Am I within myself not in what's greatest?
Shall what's mine no longer soothe
and understand me as a child?

Suddenly I'm as if cast out,
and this solitude surrounds me

A monosyllabic European called Sax
Invents a horn, walla whirledy wah, a kind of twisted
Brazen clarinet, but with its column of vibrating
Air shaped not in a cylinder but in a cone
Widening ever outward and bawaah spouting
Infinitely upward through an upturned
Swollen golden bell rimmed
Like a gloxinia flowering
In Sax's Belgian imagination

And in the unfathomable matrix
Of mothers and fathers as a genius graven
Humming into the cells of the body
Or cupped in the resonating grail

I am too big. Too big by far. Pity me.
My eyes bulge and hurt. They are my one great beauty, even
so. They see too much, above, below. And yet, there is not much
to see. The rain has stopped. The mist is gathering on my skin
in drops. The drops run down my back, run from the corners of
my downturned mouth, run down my sides and drip beneath
my belly. Perhaps the droplets on my mottled hide are pretty,
like dewdrops, silver on a moldering leaf? They chill me
through and through. I feel my colors changing now, my pig-

l. 1327) Then our Lord said unto Noah:

(ll. 1328-1355) "I give thee My pledge, dearest of men, that thou
mayest go thy way, thou and the seed of every living thing which
thou shalt ferry through the deep water for many a day in the
bosom of the ship. Lead on board the ark, as I bid thee, thy
household, thy wife and thy three sons, and thy sons' wives with
thee. And take within that sea-home seven of every kind of
living thing that serve as food for men, and two of every other

(ll. 1082-1089) And there was also in that tribe another son of
Lamech, called Tubal Cain, a smith skilled in his craft. He was
the first of all men on the earth to fashion tools of husbandry;
and far and wide the city-dwelling sons of men made use of bronze
and iron.

(ll. 1090-1103) Then to his two beloved wives, Adah and Zillah,
Lamech rehearsed a tale of shame: "I have struck down a kinsman
unto death! I have defiled my hands with the blood of Cain! I
smote down Enoch's father, slayer of Abel, and poured his blood

(ll. 1002-1005) Then the Lord of glory spake unto Cain, and asked
where Abel was. Quickly the cursed fashioner of death made
answer unto Him:

(ll. 1006-1008) "I know not the coming or going of Abel, my
kinsman, his lot or portion; I was not my brother's keeper."

(ll. 1008-1021) And the Gracious Spirit, Lord of angels, made
answer unto him: "Why hast thou slain that faithful man thy
brother in thy wrath, and his blood calleth and crieth unto Me?
Accursed for ever, driven into exile, thou shalt be punished for

(ll. 918-924) And unto Eve God spake in wrath: "Turn thee from
joy! Thou shalt live under man's dominion, sore smitten with
fear before him. With bitter sorrow shalt thou expiate thy sin,
waiting for death, bringing forth sons and daughters in the world
with grief and tears and lamentation."

(ll. 925-938) And on Adam the Eternal God, Author of life,
pronounced an evil doom: "Thou shalt seek another home, a joyless
dwelling. Naked and needy shalt thou suffer exile, shorn of thy

(ll. 1167-1180) And after Cainan Mahalaleel possessed the land
and treasure many a year. The prince lived five-and-sixty
winters, and begat a son. An heir was born unto his house, and
his kinsmen called him Jared, as I have heard. Mahalaleel lived
long, enjoying bliss on earth, the joys of men, and worldly
treasure. And all the years of Mahalaleel were eight hundred
five-and-ninety winters, and he died, and gave the land and rule
unto his son.

(ll. 1180-1196) A long time Jared dealt out gold to men. He was

I was but a half-grown boy,
You were a girl-child slight.
Ah, how weary you were!
You had led in the bullock-fight...
We slew the bullock at length
With knives and maces of stone.
And so your feet were torn,
Your lean arms bruised to the bone.

Perhaps 'twas the slain beast's blood
We drank, or a root we ate,
Or our reveling evening bath
In the fall by the garden gate,
But you turned to a witching thing,
Side-glancing, and frightened me;
You purred like a panther's cub,