Wednesday, December 21, 2011

To The Contended - Robert E. Howard

Bide by the fluted iron walls
Take ye a serving wench to wife;
Drown in the pot the bugle's calls,
Trade your spear for a peddler's knife.
Turn to the vendor's paltry strife,
Gird ye round with doors and bars
Safely snore in the lap of Life—
I must follow the restless stars.

Wait at the doors of your master's halls
—For the faithful server, boards are rife—
Make no oath when the whip-lash falls—
Hark to the counsel of your wife;
Trade your harp for a peddler's fife.
But gods, the spray and the plunging spars!
Here is my heart—in the heart of Life
And I must follow the restless stars

King, there are stallions in golden stalls,
But bars of sapphire are only bars!
Bide in peace in the high safe halls—
I must follow the restless stars.

3.5 out of 5