To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence – James Elroy Flecker

I who am dead a thousand years
And wrote this sweet archaic song
Send you my words for messengers
The way I shall not pass along.

I care not if you bridge the seas,
Or ride secure the cruel sky
Or build consummate palaces
Of metal or of masonry.

But have you wine and music still
And statues and a bright-eyed love?
And foolish thoughts of good and ill
And prayers to them who sit above?

How shall we conquer? Like a wind
That falls at eve our fancies blow
And old Maeonides the blind
Said it three thousand years ago.

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,
Student of our sweet English tongue
Read out my words at night, alone:
I was a poet, I was young.

Since I can never see your face,
And never shake you by the hand
I send my soul through time and space to greet you -
You will understand.

Wild Geese - Mary Oliver

221 B - Vincent Starrett