Robinson Jeffers

Shine, Perishing Republic

While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening
   to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
   mass hardens,
I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots
   to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and deca–
   dence; and home to the mother.
 
You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stub–
   bornly long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less than mountains:
   shine, perishing republic.
But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thick–
   ening center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster’s feet there
   are left the mountains.
And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant,
   insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught—they say—
   God, when he walked on earth.
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