Gold Leaves

Lo! I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold; Grey hairs and golden leaves cry out The year and I are old.
    In youth I sought the prince of men, Captain in cosmic wars, Our Titan, even the weeds would show Defiant, to the stars.
    But now a great thing in the street Seems any human nod, Where shift in strange democracy The million masks of God.
    In youth I sought the golden flower Hidden in wood or wold, But I am come to autumn, When all the leaves are gold.
    THOU SHALT NOT KILL
    I had grown weary of him; of his breath And hands and features I was sick to death. Each day I heard the same dull voice and tread; I did not hate him: but I wished him dead. And he must with his blank face fill my life-- Then my brain blackened; and I snatched a knife.
    But ere I struck, my soul's grey deserts through A voice cried, 'Know at least what thing you do.' 'This is a common man: knowest thou, O soul, What this thing is? somewhere where seasons roll There is some living thing for whom this man Is as seven heavens girt into a span, For some one soul you take the world away-- Now know you well your deed and purpose. Slay!'
    Then I cast down the knife upon the ground And saw that mean man for one moment crowned. I turned and laughed: for there was no one by-- The man that I had sought to slay was I.
    A CERTAIN EVENING
    That night the whole world mingled, The souls were babes at play, And angel danced with devil. And God cried, 'Holiday!'
    The sea had climbed the mountain peaks, And shouted to the stars To come to play: and down they came Splashing in happy wars.
    The pine grew apples for a whim, The cart-horse built a nest; The oxen flew, the flowers sang, The sun rose in the west.
    And 'neath the load of many worlds, The lowest life God made Lifted his huge and heavy limbs And into heaven strayed.
    To where the highest life God made Before His presence stands; But God himself cried, 'Holiday!' And she gave me both her hands.