!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>We expected the violin’s finger on the upturned nerve;br /> Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:br /> And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean and acute;br /> Unadorned statement, accurately carved./p> p>We expected the screen, the background for reveriebr /> Which cloudforms usefully weave:br /> And you built the immaculate, adamant, blue-green steelbr /> Arch of a balanced wave./p> p>We expected a pool with flowers to diffuse and breakbr /> The child-round face of the mirrored moon:br /> And you blazed a rock-path, begun near the sun, to be finishedbr /> By the trained and intrepid feet of men./p>/div> p>br /> br> /body> /html>

Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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