Don Quixote on Market Street - Clark Ashton Smith, ebook, Temp
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Don Quixote on Market Streetby Clark Ashton SmithRiding on Rosinante where the carsWith dismal unremitting clangors pass,And people move like curbless energumensRowelled by fiends of fury back and forth,Behold! Quixote comes, in battered mail,Armgaunt, with eyes of some keen haggard hawkFar from his eyrie. Gazing right and left,Over his face a lightning of disdainFlushes, and limns the hollowness of cheeksBronzed by the suns of battle; and his handTightens beneath its gauntlet on the lanceAs if some foe had challenged him, or sightOf unredressed wrong provoked his ire.....Brave spectre, what chimera shares thy saddle,Pointing thee to this place? Thy tale is told,The high. proud legend of all causes lost-A quenchless torch emblazoning black ages.Go hence, deluded paladin: there isNo honor here, nor glory, to be won.Knight of La Mancha, turn thee to the past,Amid it's purple marches ride for aye,Nor tilt with thunder-driven iron millsThat shall grind on to silence. ChivalryHas flown to stars unsooted by the fumesThat have befouled these heavens, and romanceDeparting, will unfurl her oriflammesOn towers unbuilded in an age to be.Waste not thy knightliness in wars unworthy,For time and his alastors shall destroyFull soon, and bring to stuffless, cloudy ruinAll things that fret thy spirit, riding downThis pass with pandemonian walls, this HinnomWhere Moloch and where Mammon herd the doomed.
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