Mens Sana In Corpere Sano
Certainly, Lean-shanks, you have forced the pace—
In the bath, your body shows it; and you have The right, considering your shrunken hams, To rock 'on that notorious seesaw, mind
And body. But you have-forced the pace,
Not forced (take heart) that alternating tempo To an erected standstill—forced the flesh To some four-minute mile, or forced the mind To play the turbid pandar to the blood.
Time's gradual and lenient castration Unfilms the eye andstills:the straying hand, Unstops ear and nostril; and the tongue Wags to expansive music, that could risk
(So loose it was till lately) only terse
And summary formulations. As for youth, See where it throngs these garnished avenues, To deck a house under whose ageing beams The blithe young tenant comes of age tomorrow.
You know the Stoic's one indulgence now, The wrist that, opened, bleeds into the bath, Crimsoning Time's still water—yet with blood (The Epicurean's boast) no violence Has !dosed upon yourself, beyond
This something less than suicidal forcing, The acceleration of the chemistries Of undeflected change. Prepare to open All of the body's avenues but its veins.
DONALD DAVIE