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O WHERE ARE YOU GOING
W. H. Auden
"O where
are you going?" said reader to rider,
"That
valley is fatal where furnaces burn,
Yonder's the
midden whose odours will madden,
That gap is the
grave where the tall return."
"O do you
imagine," said fearer to farer,
"That dusk
will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent
looking discovers the lacking,
Your footsteps
feel from granite to grass?"
"O what
was that bird," said horror to hearer,
"Did you
see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you
swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your
skin is a shocking disease."
"Out of
this house"—said rider to reader,
"Yours
never will"—said farer to fearer,
"They're
looking for you"—said hearer to horror,
As he left them
there, as he left them there.
.....END.....
.....END.....