GOING BACK TO SCHOOL
by: Stephen Vincent Benét (1898-1943)
- he boat ploughed on. Now Alcatraz was past
- And all the grey waves flamed to red again
- At the dead sun's last glimmer. Far and vast
- The Sausalito lights burned suddenly
- In little dots and clumps, as if a pen
- Had scrawled vague lines of gold across the hills;
- The sky was like a cup some rare wine fills,
- And stars came as he watched
- and he was free
- One splendid instant back in the great room,
- Curled in a chair with all of them beside
- And the whole world a rush of happy voices,
- With laughter beating in a clamorous tide....
- Saw once again the heat of harvest fume
- Up to the empty sky in threads like glass,
- And ran, and was a part of what rejoices
- In thunderous nights of rain; lay in the grass
- Sun-baked and tired, looking through a maze
- Of tiny stems into a new green world;
- Once more knew eves of perfume, days ablaze
- With clear, dry heat on the brown, rolling fields;
- Shuddered with fearful ecstasy in bed
- Over a book of knights and bloody shields...
- The ship slowed, jarred and stopped. There, straight ahead,
- Were dock and fellows. Stumbling, he was whirled
- Out and away to meet them and his back
- Slumped to the old half-cringe, his hands fell slack;
- A big boy's arm went round him and a twist
- Sent shattering pain along his tortured wrist,
- As a voice cried, a bloated voice and fat,
- "Why it's Miss Nancy! Come along, you rat!"
"Going Back to School" is reprinted from Young Adventure. Stephen Vincent Benet. New York: Yale University Press, 1918. |
MORE POEMS BY STEPHEN VINCENT BENÉT |
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