The Perceval Press Anthology of Verse 2012

April 2012

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Lines For A Prologue
These alternate nights and days, these seasons
Somehow fail to convince me. It seems
I have the sense of infinity!

(In your dreams, O crew of Columbus,
O listeners over the sea
For the surf that breaks upon Nothing--)

Once I was waked by the nightingales in the garden.
I thought, What time is it? I thought,
Time--Is it Time still?--Now is it Time?

(Tell me your dreams, O sailors:
Tell me, in sleep did you climb
The tall masts, and before you--)

At night the stillness of old trees
Is a leaning over and the inertness
Of hills is a kind of waiting.

(In sleep, in a dream, did you see
The world's end? Did the water
Break--and no shore--Did you see?)

Strange faces come through the streets to me
Like messengers: and I have been warned
By the moving slowly of hands at a window.

Oh, I have the sense of infinity--
But the world, sailors, is round.
They say there is no end to it.
-Archibald MacLeish


Last edited: 30 April 2012 14:59:20