by Louis Untermeyer (1885 - 1977)

Mend the World
Language: English 
Come back. Let me give up this climb, these searches
     In trackless time and overwhelming space;
Here are tall ghosts that once were elms and birches,
     And this small field is a deserted place.

The fern you found will never learn to scatter
     Its yield upon the ground that you have left;
The veery's round, high call will turn to chatter;
     Sere are these acres, weary and bereft.

Against the skies earth rears its broken scaffold,
     Where night, so friendly once, is but a black
Stupendous ruin where the mind is baffled;
     And the blind heart cries out its endless lack:
     "Come, mend the world! Come back!"

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Malcolm Wren [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2020-08-27
Line count: 13
Word count: 107