Georgian Poetry 1913-15 Part 43

Sollers:

Why, but the fire that's eating the whole earth; The breath of it is scarlet in the sky!

You must have seen that?

Warp:

But what's taken you?

You are like boys that go to hunt for ghosts, And turn the scuttle of rats to a roused demon Crawling to shut the door of the barn they search.

Fire? Yes, fire is playing a pretty game Yonder, and has its golden fun to itself, Seemingly.

Sollers:

You don't know what 'tis that burns?

Warp:

Call me a mole and not a molecatcher If I do not. It is a rick that burns; And a strange thing I'll count it if the rick Be not old Huff's.

Sollers:

That flare a fired stack?

Huff:

Only one of my ricks alight? O Glory!

There may be chance for me yet.

Merrick:

Best take the train To Droitwich, Huff.

Vine (at the door):

It would be like a stack, But for the star.

Sollers (to WARP):

Yes, as you're so clever, You can talk down maybe yon brandis.h.i.+ng star!

Warp:

O, 'tis the star has flickt your brains? Indeed, The tail swings long enough to-night for that.

Well, look your best at it; 'tis off again To go its rounds, they tell me, from now on; And the next time it swaggers in our sky, The moles a long while will have tired themselves Of having their easy joke with me.

[A pause.]

Merrick:

You mean The flight of the star is from us?

Sollers:

But the world, The whole world reckons on it battering us!

Warp:

Who told you that?

Sollers:

A dowser.

Merrick:

Where's he gone?

Warp:

A dowser! say a tramping conjurer.

You'll believe aught, if you believe a dowser.

Sollers:

I had it in me to be doubting him.

Merrick:

The noise you made was like that! But I knew You'ld laugh at me, so sure you were the world Would s.h.i.+ver like a bursting grindlestone: Else I'ld have said out loud, 'twas a fool's whimsy.

Vine: