The Poetry Corner

The Idiot

By Edgar Lee Masters

Two children in a garden Shouting for joy Were playing dolls and houses, A girl and boy. I smiled at a neighbor window, And watched them play Under a budding oak tree On a wintry day. And then a board half broken In the high fence Fell over and there entered, I know not whence, A jailbird face of yellow With a vacant sulk, His body was a sickly Thing of bulk. His open mouth was slavering, And a green light Turned disc-like in his eyeballs, Like a dog's at night. His teeth were like a giant's, And far apart; I saw him reel on the children With a stopping heart. He trampled their dolls and ruined The house they made; He struck to earth the children With a dirty spade. As a tiger growls with an antelope After the hunt, Over the little faces I heard him grunt. I stood at the window frozen, And short of breath, And then I saw the idiot Was Master Death! A bird in the lilac bushes Began to sing. The garden colored before me To the kiss of spring. And the yellow face in a moment Was a mystic white; The matted hair was softened To starry light. The ragged coat flowed downward Into a robe; He carried a sword and a balance And stood on a globe. I watched him from the window Under a spell; The idiot was the angel Azrael!