Old men grow wise

In the world's ways,

Murmuring meaningless words,

Comfortable and meaningless words.

Meanwhile within the city

Virtue is destroyed

And hope betrayed.

Machines become more beautiful

As men decay;

Greatness continually falls down

Before mediocrity,

The unuttered stupidity

Of well intentioned men.

Immediate victory

Is inevitable

For those who destroy

The old foundations.

Art indicates

The world's confusion.

The dark side of the moon

Turns towards the earth

Its empty face.

What significance

Can claim

These sick and faltering years?

Make them a million,

Give time its scope,

Break down the doors of death

And face the ultimate,

Not to escape

But to see beyond this hour

The great curve of space.

Even within the city

The dark and terrible city

Men offer still

The silent Eucharist.

November 1965