Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HERE IS MUSIC: DOUBLE BALLADE WITH DOUBLE REFRAIN (3), by AUSTIN PHILIPS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HERE IS MUSIC: DOUBLE BALLADE WITH DOUBLE REFRAIN (3), by                    
First Line: Long since, in hours of eld, full fain
Last Line: "so little done! So much to do!"
Subject(s): Youth


LONG since, in hours of eld, full fain
For fair achievement, I enroll'd
My singing self in Song's domain
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
Hoped, dreamed—enthusiast, eager-soul'd
To pass Pierian portico
By task of high, heroic mould. ...
(So little done! So much to do!)

Full soon, their outworks stormed and ta'en,
Ardent, impetuous, brilliant, bold,
I charged blest bastions, bent to gain
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
Glad gates of famed Olympian fold,
Saw bright Success, in embryo,
Confront me, calling to be cull'd. ...
(So little done! So much to do!)

Alas! Impatience, fierce, insane,
Brought me disaster. Fate be-fool'd,
Be-slimed my dreams, brought blight and bane,
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
Robbed me of sustenence, annull'd
Ancient ideals, urged me go,
Greedy, insatiate, gathering gold. ...
(So little done! So much to do!)

The years went by. In vulgarer vein
The paths of prose I walked, and scroll'd
Drab deeds, emotions mean, mundane,
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
Unworthy actions oft extoll'd,
Won cheap success, thus all but slew
The wretched soul I long since sold. ...
(So little done! So much to do!)

Then, born of Love, came Song again,
Old visions leap'd to life, cajoled
And called, bid, beckon'd, showed me plain
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
The loftier course I walked of old,
Stood strong, revealed rich retinue,
My birthright once and copyhold. ...
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)

Stung, stricken, then—in grief and pain,
And shame and haste I turned and troll'd
By couplet, stanza, verse, quatrain,
(If Youth but knew! If Age but could!)
Emotions, aspirations dull'd,
Sang soft, in stark adagio,
With soul of shame and heart a-cold,
"So little done! So much to do!"

Envoi

Thus comes this sad song's burthen, toll'd
(If Age but could! If Youth but knew!)
To field and city, lane, wood, wold,
"So little done! So much to do!"





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