At Lexington
they are going to burn
A hoard of books for charity.
Round these towering volumes the flames will churn
As night and winter's dark they spurn
And threaten with their clarity.
The fire's
fierce theatre draws herds of folk
All willing to be hynotised;
Anemones of flame and reefs of smoke
Enchant us so, we'd gladly choke
To see the dark so well disguised.
'Oh, look,
the Bible's all on fire', we cheered
At its catching. 'Oh watch it flare'.
It was like this of old, when witches reared
Against the stake; we stood and peered
At such Aladdin caves of air.
These mushrooming
billows of coral form
The fevered brain of fire on high,
Whose dream of destroying the world by storm
Will, in the ashes, still be warm
Long after its illusions die.
