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Allen Tate - Eclogue Of The Liberal And The PoetAllen Tate - Eclogue Of The Liberal And The Poet
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LIBERAL In that place, shepherd, all the men are dead. POET Yes, look at the water grim and black Where immense Europa rears her head, Her face pinched and her breasts slack. LIBERAL I said, shepherd, all the men are dead. POET Shall I turn to the road that goes America? Is that a place for men to be dead Or living? If you don`t mind being asked. LIBERAL Try it and see. It`s a pretty good way To skim three thousand miles in a day And none of them America. POET But what about her face and the tasked Wonders of her air and soil, her big belly That Putnam writes about under the sun? LIBERAL I don`t know Put, I don`t know his Nelly- To name her that if she`d name it fun But you know she hasn`t any name, Nowhere you touch her she`s the same, POET What, shepherd, are we talking about? LIBERAL You started it, shepherd. POET Shepherd, I didn`t. LIBERAL You did; you saw the poetical face of Europe. POET You said it was no place for men to be. LIBERAL I meant seawater; you thought I meant hope. POET Hell, I reckon you think I am a dope. LIBERAL I didn`t say that; I said there was no place. POET If not in a place, where are the People weeping? LIBERAL They creep weeping in the lace, not place. POET Is it something with which we may cope- The weeping, the creeping, the peepee-ing, the peeping? LIBERAL Hanging is something which I will do with this rope. POET Alas, for us who peep, weeping. Alas, for us you see but little hope. LIBERAL Alas, I didn`t say that; you rhymed hope with rope. I meant I was going to hang us both for creeping. POET Afterwards they could process us into soap; Afterwards they would rhyme soap with hope. BOTH What a cheerful rhyme! Clean not mean! Been not seenl Not tired expired! We must now decide about place. We decide that place is the big weeping face And the other abstract lace of the race. LIBERAL Shepherd, what are we talking about? POET Oh, why, shepherd, are we stalking about?
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