Into a thousand images of God
A minstrel in a busy caravan
Clad all in motley, or, in armor odd
Armed with a weapon yet unknown, unmade,
Almost unthought, a honest officer
Of some dishonest empire, or, frayed
And dirt-caked, with a stomacher
Ripped and disheveled, some new party guest
Arriving unexpected, undesired:
Any of these, or more, whatever's best
To imitate a past that once transpired
Or futures yet to come, he is, and yet is not
A son no mother knows if she begot.
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