the cool web - gordon crosse lyrics
children are dumb to say how hot the day is
how hot the scent is of the summer rose
how dreadful the black wastes of evening sky
how dreadful the tall soldiers drumming by
but we have speech, to chill the angry day
and speech, to dull the rose’s cruel scent
we spell away the overhanging night
we spell away the soldiers and the fright
there’s a cool web of language winds us in
retreat from too much joy or too much fear:
we grow sea*green at last and coldly die
in brininess and volubility
but if we let our tongues lose self*possession
throwing off language and its watery clasp
before our death, instead of when death comes
facing the wide glare of the children’s day
facing the rose, the dark sky and the drums
we shall go mad no doubt and die that way
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