Deftly, Admiral, Cast Your Fly

Deftly, admiral, cast your fly Into the slow deep hover, Till the wise old trout mistake and die; Salt are the deeps that cover The glittering fleets you led, White is your head. Read on, ambassador, engrossed In your favourite Stendhal; The Outer Provinces are lost, Unshaven horsemen swill The great wines of the Chateaux Where you danced long ago. Do not turn, do not lift your eyes Toward the still pair standing On the bridge between your properties, Indifferent to your minding: In its glory, in its power, This is their hour. Nothing your strength, your skill, could do Can alter their embrace Or dispersuade the Furies who At the appointed place With claw and dreadful brow Wait for them now.