IT was a valorous music poured upon us
In that bright morning, and it was as though
The whole dour earth were moved by those sweet sound’
That played around our bodies and in motion
Conceived in us a love, but not of loving.
We might have been alone upon the sun.
We were then pierced by pride that was entrancing,
And stood there, made of sweat and steel and polish,
Each with his latest thought his last thought wounding,
A being in a being. The white music
Caught us in clouds of sound and swirled us skyward.
We were aware of nothing but our fires.
Then suddenly I lived beyond my breathing,
Dissolved the mists of music, saw beside me
Myself in such a stance, in various guises,
The eternal soldier; and the ground was stirring
Beneath my feet, and cities falling down.
And madmen played gold music in my ears.
(Harry Brown)
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