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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Haniel Long

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Song of Young Burbage

Haniel Long

From “On the Road”

THE GOAT that rubbed my knees last night

And left his ancient smell

Maddened my heart that I was what

A hornèd goat could tell.

For if his favor singled me

Out of the passing crowd,

I know I’m not too well disguised

Nor yet too worldly proud.

Most difficult it is today

Beneath a coat and vest:

I fear my old identity

May fade with all the rest.

But I’ll go back to hill and sky

And hold a colloquy:

I need those ancient presences

Whose tumult still is—me!