The Recalcitrants

Let us off and search, and find a place     Where yours and mine can be natural lives,     Where no one comes who dissects and dives     And proclaims that ours is a curious case,     That its touch of romance can scarcely grace.     You would think it strange at first, but then     Everything has been strange in its time.     When some one said on a day of the prime     He would bow to no brazen god again     He doubtless dazed the mass of men.     None will recognize us as a pair whose claims     To righteous judgment we care not making;     Who have doubted if breath be worth the taking,     And have no respect for the current fames     Whence the savour has flown while abide the names.     We have found us already shunned, disdained,     And for re-acceptance have not once striven;     Whatever offence our course has given     The brunt thereof we have long sustained.     Well, let us away, scorned unexplained.