Villa Nova

a sort of railway station
in a small town with a theatre

it’s a comfy place

one knows the people there

it welcomes you

you have won

that’s what would have happened

the spectacular things have written themselves
across the zodiac

all the girls were there
the bright mentality
the weigher of purposes
the distinguisher of finer things
the lioness

with our purposive figments

it is a very happy converse
top to bottom

and here is the time of day
when the buggering gods hid their faces
and the Dea Mater shrouded us

dance attendance upon us
in our beds
beside the reliquaries

the disputations continue
and we are as subdued

here we miscalculate
as well as we can

it is made to order for we
have worked very hard
to bear away the simple palms
and the bays as one

what do we think about it?
it is a sealed door
with magnificent openings

to be gracious tends
to help a little

a Consort of broken Musicke

if I might suggest something
else try

the great day
looked at most
from the point of view
of a standard perspective

nothing changes really
only the mind refreshes
and finds refreshment

a long drink of lemonade
off the screened porch
where you might sit if you cared to
but probably you would flit

and be gathered into the heat

the hopeless turmoil of day

where you had spied relief
in the gloom

the strenuous décor

of a silent calm room

where you can find delectation

the stage above the ballroom
is a place where you can view the guests
over your music

it is the most spectacular thing
a London Sunday

where you can reflect

over the long courses

that vanish in the memory

they are as guests

with a sorrowful aspect

in the large view

from the back of the park

the stammering discourses

the metaphors

we have collected them all

and given them a home

barely visible

but at all events scarcely
if at all

quite urbane and witty

nobly refined even
we might say

no not ever
to that degree

even if you could think of it
in that way

all wrapped up and ready to go

tooting its own horn

with a brace of waterworks
to its own head
swimmingly its
overdoors and plinths

quod vetus urbs coluit
nunc nova villa tenet

between you and me
there's more than us and thee

there is the whole city

with its strict principles of use

you enter via the Arc de Triomphe

and find yourselves out on the street

whether you know it or not

it is the solid gaol

you cannot escape from

without a better hope

in a better sense
of that term

without terminus