While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening
to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots
to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and deca-
dence; and home to the mother.
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stub-
bornly long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains:
shine, perishing republic.
But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thick-
ening center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster’s feet there
are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant,
insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught–they say–
God, when he walked on earth.
(Robinson Jeffers)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, God Poems, Life Poems, Flowers Poems, Spring Poems, Mothers Poems, Children Poems, Cities Poems, Democracy Poems, Corruption PoemsBased on Keywords: noblest, catches, molten, splendor, settles, america, ripeness, perishing, thickening, hardens, pops