WEBVTT

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I see there are some
people standing there.

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There are lots of
seats over this way.

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I see several in there, and
there are some in front here.

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I think I'll add to that
little group, Ruskin poem,

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and the three poems all called,
"The Past," this one, called

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"The Two Magnets," which
was written in Europe.

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"Where broken
gods, faded saints,

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powerful in antique
presence, as old dancers

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with straight backs, loftily
confident, or old men

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in threadbare well-cut
coats preside casually

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over the venerable conversations
of cypress and olive,

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there intrudes, like a
child interrupting, tugging

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at my mind,
incongruous, persistent,

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the image of young
salmon in round

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ponds at the hatchery across
an ocean, and a continent,

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circling with
muscular swiftness.

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Tints of green, pink, blue,
glowing mysteriously through

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slate gray under
trees, unknown here,

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whose names I forget because
they were unknown to me

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too when I was young.

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And there on the
western edge of America,

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home to me now, and calling me
with this image of something

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I love yet still
unknown, I dream

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of cathedrals, of the worn
stone of human centuries guarded

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by lions with blunted muzzles,
or griffins verdant with moss.

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Gate posts open in me
to effaced avenues.

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Part of me lives under
nettle grown foundations.

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Part of me wanders
west and west,

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and has reached the
edge of the mist

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where salmon wait the
day when something

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shall lift them, and give
them to deeper waters."

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