And God, the herdsman, goads them on behind.

Much did I rage when young, Being by the world oppressed, But now with flattering tongue It speeds the parting guest.

Supreme art is a traditional statement of certain heroic and religious truth, passed on from age to age, modified by individual genius, but never abandoned.

What shall I do for pretty girls Now my old bawd is dead?

My wretched dragon is perplexed.

Speech after long silence; it is right, All other lovers being estranged or dead . . . That we descant and yet again descant Upon the supreme theme of Art and Song: Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; young We loved each other and were ignorant.

The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong.