THE LIVES

"History is a grave and noble pageant," Landor said.

His family life at Gherardesca proved impossible.
In 1844 his daughter gave him Pomero, a dog.

The pictures blacken in their frames, the tassels on the bedspread
Fall. "He laughs like an ogre," Mrs. Browning said,
Who did not relish him the way her husband did.

Stuffed animals and birds, antiques of plaster gave
A tone to Boston.  Santayana, who had stomach trouble
As a youth, once shook the hand

Of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.  Professor Norton
Lingered on.  "No comfort, not a breath of love,"
Wrote Nietzsche, going mad.  Booth Tarkington loved art.

"Well, history is a grave and noble pageant," Landor said.
"Or ‘stately pageant’ is perhaps the term."

On the neglected lawn, the iron dogs and the deer,
Rusted among the weeds, alert, indomitable, keep watch.

from The Collected Poems of Weldon Kees, Edited by Donald Justice, Bison Books, 2003.