I envy the eighteenth century
Despite slavery insolence and the pox

A world in which each knows his place
Wildly unjust for persons

But for poetry a good thing
The fitting of matter and manner

Grand language for the grand parts
And tender language for the tender parts

And awareness of grandeur and tenderness
Of advent and requiem

Alternative to blame blame blame blame
Blame blame blame blame blame

To know what is good is good
Though one’s belief might be mistaken

We who live now know only what is efficient
Mass production mass destruction mass delusion

We need not approve of the arrogance of emperors
The hypocrisy of republicans

But do not deny the magnificence
Of Bach Watteau and Goethe

I mean the perfection of their works
Not their human incapacities

Assertion
I rage against injustice

And can poetry persist
In an unjust age

And when has there flourished
An age of justice

And in the artifacts of culture
Let there be balance discipline order sensibility and taste

Decorum is truly art’s Holy Grail
But art disdains a goal

I envy those who believe their belief
Not to be mistaken

A world that knew what was right
But not what made right right

A singing riddle
A mystery and a malady

Let a century of art commence
A century of knowledge and judgment

Just
One century