MYSELF AS INDIAN
THERE is a boyhood photograph
In which I stand, a mighty Indian chief With feathers in my cap and in my hand A deadly tomahawk of painted wood.
The throne of the Incas? It is mine by right,
A kingdom fool grown-ups not understand—
No, never—where, myself as Indian, I rule a people that is just and good And for its eminence does not need might.
Now, looking on this photograph, what follows?
Do I who stand, the merest Englishman, With such a past behind me, suffer sin Now, who once romped amid the grassy hollows Shooting my pointless arrows at the swallows?
Am I no longer such—a lonely chief Encaptured in a boyhood photograph?
The throne of the Incas? 0, I have grown since then, Become a man ; but not an Indian.
NICHOLAS MOORE.