Chapter17Sail fast sail fast,
Ark of my hopes, Ark of my dreams;
Sweep lordly o’er the drowned’ East,
Fly glittering through the sun’s strange beams;
Sail fast, sail fast.
Breaths of new buds from off some drying lea
‘With news about the future scent the sea:
My brain is beating like the heart of Haste:
I’ll loose me a bird upon this ‘Present waste;
Go, trembling song,
And stay not long; oh, stay not long:
Thou’rt only a gray and sober dove,
‘But thine eye is faith and thy wing is love.
—A Song Of ‘the Future by Sidney Lanier (1842-1881)
The sun unfolded its glory in its proper hour, not a minute late, not a minute early. The birds too trilled their apathetic melodies and the whole world revived itself with its usual bustle.
But there was no waking up from the nightmare that
