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.

My heart is like a cleft pomegrana… Bleeding crimson seeds And dripping them on the ground. My heart gapes because it is ripe… And its seeds are bursting from it…

Like black ice Scrolled over with unintelligible… by an ignorant skater Is the dulled surface of my heart.

As one who sails upon a wide, blue… Far out of sight of land, his mind… Upon the sailing of his little boa… On tightening ropes and shaping fa… Hears suddenly, across the restles…

All night I wrestled with a memor… Which knocked insurgent at the gat… The crumbled wreck of years behind… Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the…

Have at you, you Devils! My back’s to this tree, For you’re nothing so nice That the hind-side of me Would escape your assault.

Slowly, without force, the rain dr… on the carved head of Saint John,… over his stone cloak. It splashes… and falls from it in turmoil on th… Where are the people, and why does…

It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore… And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters…

It was a gusty night, With the wind booming, and swoopin… Looping round corners, Sliding over the cobble-stones, Whipping and veering,

A Minstrel stands on a marble sta… Blown by the bright wind, debonair… Below lies the sea, a sapphire flo… Above on the terrace a turret door Frames a lady, listless and wan,

My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful… With a great many windows and door… There are stairs that go up, and s… And such beautiful, slippery floor… But of all of the rooms, even moth…

Dance! Dance! The priest is yellow with sunflowe… He is yellow with corn-meal, He is yellow as the sun.

I ask but one thing of you, only o… That always you will be my dream o… That never shall I wake to find u… All this I have believed and rest… Forever vanished, like a vision go…

Thin-voiced, nasal pipes Drawing sound out and out Until it is a screeching thread, Sharp and cutting, sharp and cutti… It hurts.

Outside the long window, With his head on the stone sill, The dog is lying, Gazing at his Beloved. His eyes are wet and urgent,