To Arthur Mizener <br /> <br />Hit mus be now de Kingdom comiri <br />And de year of Jubilo . . . <br /> <br />Tail-spinning from the shelves of sky <br />See how it dips and tacks and tosses <br />To cast a beam in the mind's eye: <br />Who will count the gains and the losses <br />On the Day of Jubilo? <br /> <br />Public accountant with double entry <br />Enter in red war's final cast <br />In the black column the pacing sentry, <br />Old women picking the hogs' mast <br />For the Day of Jubilo <br /> <br />Lean to the crowded air and hear, <br />Eavesdropper, how it goes inside <br />Your own deaf and roaring ear: <br />Boys caress the machines they ride <br />On the Day of Jubilo <br /> <br />After the dry and sticking tongue <br />After our incivility <br />Who will inflate the poet's lung <br />Gone flat of this indignity <br />Till the Day of Jubilo? <br /> <br />Scholar, no dog will have your day <br />For all your capital's run out, <br />Wry baby in wet disarray- <br />Scholar, prepare your meagre clout <br />For the Day of Jubilo <br /> <br />Under the slip and slide of day <br />Think, at the end you'll never be <br />Trapped in a fox-hole of decay <br />Nor snip nor glide of history <br />After the Day of Jubilo <br /> <br />All our jubilant eyes are raised, <br />Jubilo. Over the barbican <br />On the great Day pure and dazed, <br />Empty of heart the empty man <br />Of the Day of Jubilo <br /> <br />Then for the Day of Jubilo <br />The patient bares his arm at dawn <br />To suck the blood's transfusing glow <br />And then when all the blood is gone <br />(For the Day of Jubilo) <br /> <br />Salt serum stays his arteries <br />Sly tide threading the ribs of sand, <br />Till his lost being dries, and cries <br />For that unspeakable salt land <br />Beyond the Day of Jubilo.<br /><br />Allen Tate<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jubilo/