Dream Song 90

His Toy, His Dream, His Rest (1969)

Op. posth. no. 13

In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces,of liberations, and beloved faces,such as now ere dawn he sings.It would not be easy, accustomed to these things,to give up the old world, but he could try;let it all rest, have a good cry.

Let Randall  rest, whom your self-torturingcannot restore one instant’s good to, rest:he’s left us now.The panic died and in the panic’s dyingso did my old friend. I am headed westalso, also, somehow.

In the chambers of the end we’ll meet againI will say Randall, he’ll say Pussycatand all will be as beforewhenas we sought, among the beloved faces,eminence and were dissatisfied with thatand needed more.

His Toy, His Dream, His Rest (1969)