English

I gaze at this, my hometown,
as if reentering a former life.
So vague and formless, everything has changed,
yet clear, detailed the dream remains.
I've been away for forty years
and so there's no roof to shelter me.
For now I rent a cell
in an old monk's cloister;
a place to stay, dare I complain it's small?
Children cluster round to stare —
they think I'm a visitor from another world.
And I do feel sad and alone,
and see myself as a visitor here.
In the morning I go out, spirits bright,

The bird in flight parts from the old wood,
chirps and cries as if full of pain.
The nomad horse longs for his old trough,
neighs sadly, his feet not surging forth.
And here I am, in my parents' land;
it's not that I didn't want to come before!
But I was kept at White Gate for so long
that it was hard to find a time to come.
Now I take advantage of this moment:
I could not bear to miss the slightest chance.
People that I only half knew once
knock at the door to say hello.
The earth I trod on when I was a boy:

Part First

A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light,
And closed them beneath the kisses of Night.

And the Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.

But none ever trembled and panted with bliss
In the garden, the field, or the wilderness,
Like a doe in the noontide with love's sweet want.

Hell is a city much like London--
A populous and a smoky city;
There are all sorts of people undone,
And there is little or no fun done;
Small justice shown, and still less pity.

The Devil now knew his proper cue--
Soon as he read the ode, he drove
To his friend Lord MacMurderchouse's,
A man of interest in both houses,
And said: "For money or for love,

Pray find some cure or sinecure;
To feed from the superfluous taxes
A friend of ours--a poet--fewer
Have fluttered tamer to the lure
Than he'. His lordship stands and racks his

Stupid brains, while one might count
As many heads as he had boroughs--
At length replies; from his mean front,
Like one who rubs out an account,

I
Among the guests who often stayed
Till the Devil's petits-soupers.
A man there came, fair as a maid,
And Peter noted what he said,
Standing behind his master's chair.
II

He was a mighty poet--and
A subtle-souled psychologist;
All things he seemed to understand,
Of old or new--of sea or land--
But his own mind--which was a mist.
III

This was a man who might have turned
Hell into Heaven--and so in gladness
A Heaven unto himself have earned;
But he in shadows undiscerned

I met Murder on the way —
He had a mask like Castlereagh —
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like Eldon, an ermined gown;
His big tears, for he wept well,
Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

And the little children, who
Round his feet played to and fro,

From the cities where from caves,
Like the dead from putrid graves,
Troops of starvelings gliding come,
Living Tenants of a tomb.

As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea,
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.

I met Murder on the way —
He had a mask like Castlereagh —
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like Eldon, an ermined gown;

As I lay asleep in Italy,
There came a voice from over the Sea,
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.

I met Murder on the way--
He had a mask like Castlereagh--
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like Eldon, an ermined gown;