Titans Moved Slow

Titans moved slow not to harm The trees in Hastings But Yet Once brushed a tree In Hastings Gardens Trembled the tree and Vibrated quite In the long night under The fairy moon Whilst satyrs danced in The cool airs that from The bastions willing climbed Nocturnal ay! Nocturnal be the rustling waves From Twilight advanced through The sand-glass measuring of time: The waters swish The waters swish the rocks The night, to-night, sleeps not. But restless roam from street to Street, wayward, And in the looking glass of time Arranges His butterfly nonchalantly. Once branded magic But magic as Merlin's White as whitest mists Cool and chill as snows In the ice-bucket of the Peaks of snow on Mountains of frost. The way is there And The way is open. The winds blow ay! They blow Over the seeds of time (including therefore inside Of them the seeds of youth That withers on) My Monsignor! My Monsignor! The time is come! The time is come! The top Rat is come out in The night With him the underlings Sing whistling Through their teeth