How empty seems the town now you a… A wilderness of sad streets, where… Hide nothing to desire; sunshine f… Eery, distorted, as it long had sh… On white, dead faces tombed in hal…

Between us leapt a gold and scarle… Into the hollow of the cupped, arc… Of Heaven it rose. Its flickering… And vanished in the sunshine. How… We guessed not, nor what thing cou…

Dearest, forgive that with my clum… I broke and bruised your rose. I hardly could suppose It were a thing so fragile that my… Could kill it, thus.

The path runs straight between the… A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds… Where phlox and marigolds dispute… With tall, red dahlias and the bri… 'T is reckless prodigality which t…

This little bowl is like a mossy p… In a Spring wood, where dogtooth… Nodding in chequered sunshine of t… A quiet place, still, with the sou… Where, though unseen, is heard the…

This afternoon was the colour of w… The trees glittered with the tumbl… The sidewalks shone like alleys of… And the houses ran along them laug… Under a tree in the park,

I have whetted my brain until it i… So keen that it nicks off the floa… So sharp that the air would turn i… Were it to be twisted in flight. Licking passions have bitten their…

I have been temperate always, But I am like to be very drunk With your coming. There have been times I feared to walk down the street

You are beautiful and faded Like an old opera tune Played upon a harpsichord; Or like the sun-flooded silks Of an eighteenth-century boudoir.

Gushing from the mouths of stone m… To spread at ease under the sky In granite-lipped basins, Where iris dabble their feet And rustle to a passing wind,

Before the Altar, bowed, he stand… With empty hands; Upon it perfumed offerings burn Wreathing with smoke the sacrifici… Not one of all these has he given,

See! He trails his toes Through the long streaks of moonli… And the nails of his fingers glitt… They claw and flash among the tree… His lips suck at my open window,

But why did I kill him? Why? Why… In the small, gilded room, near th… My ears rack and throb with his cr… And his eyes goggle under his hair… As my fingers sink into the fair

The Bell in the convent tower swu… High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The air was a blue clarity. Swallows flew,