Titans Moved Slow Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Titans moved slow not to harm
The trees in Hastings
But
Yet
Once brushed a tree
In Hastings Gardens
Trembled the tree and
Vibrated quite
In the long night under
The fairy moon
Whilst satyrs danced in
The cool airs that from
The bastions willing climbed
Nocturnal ay!
Nocturnal be the rustling waves
From
Twilight advanced through
The sand-glass measuring of time:
The waters swish
The waters swish the rocks
The night, to-night, sleeps not.
But restless roam from street to
Street, wayward,
And in the looking glass of time
Arranges
His butterfly nonchalantly.
Once branded magic
But magic as Merlin's
White as whitest mists
Cool and chill as snows
In the ice-bucket of the
Peaks of snow on
Mountains of frost.
The way is there
And
The way is open.
The winds blow ay!
They blow
Over the seeds of time
(including therefore inside
Of them the seeds of youth
That withers on)
My Monsignor! My Monsignor!
The time is come!
The time is come!
The top Rat is come out in
The night
With him the underlings
Sing whistling
Through their teeth