I had a dream. A throng of people sped
Hard after something that before them fled—
A ball that leapt and bounded. I pursued,
Kicking, like all the rest, at Bryan’s head.
Ah, God, it was indeed a ghastly play!
That noble head—its locks in disarray
Streaming like feathers of a shuttlecock—
Urged with resounding buffets on its way.
Ever the foremost in the chase accurst
Ran Two who in his life, too, had been first
Among his followers. “Behold,” I cried,
“Those twins of constancy, the Devil and Hearst!”
Smitten in spirit with a sudden shame.
And from intemperate exertion lame,
I sprang, and skyward with a parting kick
Hoisted that mellow bulb, and left the game.