We Too Had Known Golden Hours

We, too, had known golden hours

When body and soul were in tune,

Had danced with our true loves

By the light of a full moon,

And sat with the wise and good

As tongues grew witty and gay

Over some noble dish

Out of Escoffier;

Had felt the intrusive glory

Which tears reserve apart,

And would in the old grand manner

Have sung from a resonant heart.

But, pawed-at and gossiped-over

By the promiscuous crowd,

Concocted by editors

Into spells to befuddle the crowd,

All words like Peace and Love,

All sane affirmative speech,

Had been soiled, profaned, debased

To a horrid mechanical screech.

No civil style survived

That pandaemonioum

But the wry, the sotto-voce,

Ironic and monochrome:

And where should we find shelter

For joy or mere content

When little was left standing

But the suburb of dissent?