«Is that all there is to it,» he asks,
«no more conjecture or controversy?
Don’t think I could go through it,
I couldn’t live with the memory.
Now is the hour, it comes eventually;
How great the power as it falls on me!»
He’s raising his sense of occasion to the limit —
(The big moment is coming up.)
Practised, his sense of evasion… or is it?
(No sidestep or dummy run.)
Craving a certain indulgence — would you give it?
Would you give it in time?
Treading water, making waves
From the cradle to the grave;
Home by a whisker — close shaves!
I’m waiting,
What I said I meant:
No faking
The Great Experiment.
Near the end of the reel now,
He’s hanging on by his fingertips.
He knows how it feels;
At last the kiss of unearthly lips.
Now is the hour to get a tighter grip.
How great the power as the tide begins to rip!
I’m waiting —
No faking
The Great Experiment.