Profile

solaciolum: King of Night Vision, King of Insight (Default)
Time Traveler Extraordinaire

November 2014

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
1617 1819202122
23242526272829
30      

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Monday, April 12th, 2010 10:12 am
I'm doing that thing that I do where I look at my gmail tab in firefox and then very surreptitiously hide it under my thumb and pretend it isn't there. This is not productive in any way, except for the way that it gets fingerprints on my screen. >_< Going to try to rectify this and respond to email soon, but I figure a heads up is in order.

I also feel like it is time for some Chesterton. And so:

The Last Hero
by G.K. Chesterton

The wind blew out from Bergen from the dawning to the day,
There was a wreck of trees and fall of towers a score of miles away,
And drifted like a livid leaf I go before its tide,
Spewed out of house and stable, beggared of flag and bride.
The heavens are bowed about my head, shouting like seraph wars,
With rains that might put out the sun and clean the sky of stars,
Rains like the fall of ruined seas from secret worlds above,
The roaring of the rains of God none but the lonely love.
Feast in my hall, O foemen, and eat and drink and drain,
You never loved the sun in heaven as I have loved the rain.

The chance of battle changes -- so may all battle be;
I stole my lady bride from them, they stole her back from me.
I rent her from her red-roofed hall, I rode and saw arise,
More lovely than the living flowers the hatred in her eyes.
She never loved me, never bent, never was less divine;
The sunset never loved me, the wind was never mine.
Was it all nothing that she stood imperial in duresse?
Silence itself made softer with the sweeping of her dress.

The wind blew out from Bergen to the dawning of the day,
They ride and run with fifty spears to break and bar my way,
I shall not die alone, alone, but kin to all the powers,
As merry as the ancient sun and fighting like the flowers.
How white their steel, how bright their eyes! I love each laughing knave,
Cry high and bid him welcome to the banquet of the brave.
Yea, I will bless them as they bend and love them where they lie,
When on their skulls the sword I swing falls shattering from the sky.
The hour when death is like a light and blood is like a rose, --
You never loved your friends, my friends, as I shall love my foes.

Know you what earth shall lose to-night, what rich uncounted loans,
What heavy gold of tales untold you bury with my bones?
My loves in deep dim meadows, my ships that rode at ease,
Ruffling the purple plumage of strange and secret seas.
To see this fair earth as it is to me alone was given,
The blow that breaks my brow to-night shall break the dome of heaven.
The skies I saw, the trees I saw after no eyes shall see,
To-night I die the death of God; the stars shall die with me;
One sound shall sunder all the spears and break the trumpet's breath:
You never laughed in all your life as I shall laugh in death.
--

There's another version of this poem with some changes made to the second stanza, but this is the version found in my big book of Chesterton's poetry, vol. 1, and it's the one I first encountered, so it's the one I use most often.
Monday, April 12th, 2010 11:41 pm (UTC)
... Not to make your "replies to be made" situation worse, but feel free to not reply to my email until you've quit drowning. And let me know if I can help, etc.