The time has come, the Poet said
To talk of other things
Of War and Tax and Poverty
Of Peasants and their Kings
And all the treasures of the sea
That never shall be found
And all the Good that speaks in vain
That trods upon the ground
And why WE try, I shall not know,
For all will trod again
And all the truths that 'ere befalls
Shall perish now in vain
When all men born who cast a verse
A poet shall they be
And all of those will play their part
In slaying poetry