Of the evening paper: ‘Our day is our loss, O show us

History the operator, the

Organiser, Time the refreshing river.’

And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life

That shapes the individual belly and orders

The private nocturnal terror;

‘Did you not found the city state of the sponge,

‘Raise the vast military empires of the shark

And the tiger, establish the robin’s plucky canton?

Intervene. O descend as a dove or

A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend.’

Read each sentence clearly. It’s about the townspeople and how they’re angry with their plight. They want change..even if it means a “furious papa” with military force or “a mild engineer”…they don’t care, they want something to change and they feel no hope.