Deaths And Entrances - Richard Burton
On almost the incendiary eve
Of several near deaths
When one at the great least of your best loved
And always known must leave
Lions and fires of his flying breath
Of your immortal friends
Who'd raise the organs of the counted dust
To shoot and sing your praise
One who called deepest down shall hold his peace
That cannot sink or cease
Endlessly to his wound
In many married London's estranging grief
On almost the incendiary eve
When at your lips and keys
Locking unlocking
The murdered strangers weave
One who is most unknown
Your polestar neighbour
Sun of another street
Will dive up to his tears
He'll bathe his raining blood in the male sea
Who strode for your own dead
And wind his globe out of your water thread
And load the throats of shells
With every cry since light
Flashed first across his thunderclapping eyes
On almost the incendiary eve
Of deaths and entrances
When near and strange wounded on London's waves
Have sought your single grave
One enemy of many who knows well
Your heart is luminous
In the watched dark
Quivering through locks and caves
Will pull the thunderbolts
To shut the sun plunge
Mount your darkened keys
And sear just riders back
Until that one loved least
Looms the last Samson of your zodiac