{"collection":"cfu","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cfu/fol/fol33.htm","path":"cfu/fol/fol33.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cfu/fol/fol33.htm","text":"A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916]\nWhat of myself?\n I am like unto the sere chrysanthemum\n That is shorn by the frost-blade, and, torn from its roots,\n Whirled away on the wind.\n Once in the valleys of Ch\u2018in and Yung I rambled at will,\n Now ring me round the unfriendly plains of the wild folk of Pa.\n O galloping dawns with Youth and Ambition riding knee to knee!\n Ride on, Youth, with the galloping dawns and dappled days!\n I am unhorsed, outventured\u2014\n I, who crouch by the crumbling embers, old, and grey, and alone.\n One great hour of noon with the sky-faring Rukh\n I clanged on the golden dome of Heaven.\n Now in the long dusk of adversity\n I have found my palace of contentment my dream pavilion;\n Even the tiny twig of the little humble wren.","title":"A Feast of Lanterns: Po Ch\u00fc-i: Myself","type":"page"}