Through Grace, its festival Eternity
will also fix---at last, once and for all---
the final Canon of good Poetry,
with each poem's precedents in summary;
and, finally forever, wholly free
of prose's peevish, perverse travesty
useful only for shrill-shrieked, "Woe is me."
No poseurs there; nor shall we hear them bawl
their "aw shucks" heart-seep repetitiously.
Heaven will offer us the finest arts---
not ruined by flatulence of cabbage farts.
[*/+/^]
Starward