JAMES
ELROY
FLECKER
TO
A POET
A
THOUSAND
YEARS
HENCE .
I WHO
am
dead
a thousand
years ,
1
And wrote
this sweet archaic
song ,
Send
you my words
for messengers
The way I shall not pass
along .
I
care not
if
you
bridge the
seas,
Or
ride
secure
the cruel sky,
Or build
consummate
palaces
Of metal
or of masonry .
But
have
you wine and music
still
And
statues
and
a bright - eyed
love,
And
foolish
thoughts
of good
and
ill,
And prayers
to
them
who
sit
above
?
How
shall we conquer
?
Like
a
wind
That
falls
at
eve
,
our
fancies
blow
,
And
old
Maeonides
the blind
Said
it
three
thousand
years ago
.
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