The coltish horseplay of the locke… Moist with the steam of the tiled… With shameless blends of civet, mu… Loud with the cap-gun snapping of… Under the steel-ribbed cages of ba…

Wines of the great châteaux Have been uncorked for you; Come, take this terrace chair: Examine the menu. The view from here is such

Over the rim of the glass Containing a good martini with a t… I eye her bosom and consider a pas… Certain we’d not be missed In the general hubbub.

I have been wondering What you are thinking about, and b… It is certainly not me. But the crocus is up, and the lark… Blood knows what it knows.

So there stood Matthew Arnold and… With the cliffs of England crumbl… And he said to her, 'Try to be tr… And I’ll do the same for you, for… All over, etc., etc.’

I’m mighty glad to see you, Mrs.… And thank you very kindly for this… Especially now when all the others… Are having holiday visitors, and… A little conspicuous and in the wa…

Powder and scent and silence. The… Shoulders his lute. The moon is L… It settles its pearl in every glas… Harlequin is already at the wharf. The gallant is masked. A pressure…

What well-heeled knuckle-head, str… Hairstylist and bathed in Russian… Dallies with you these late summer… In your expensive sublet? For who… Slip into something simple by, say…

What are these women up to? They’… Drapes over the windows, cutting o… And the slightest hope of a breeze… Can this be simply to avoid being… By some prying femme-de-chambre ac…

It’s all very well to dream of a d… Picasso’s or the Pope’s, The one that annually coos in Our… Half the world’s hopes, And the other one that shall cunni…

The barbed-wire fences rust As their cedar uprights blacken After a night of rain. Some early, innocent lust Gets me outdoors to smell

We have set out from here for the… Pastures of summer shade and mount… I have no doubt we shall arrive on… Is all the green of that enameled… A snapshot recollection or a dream…

For William and Emily Maxwell At this time of day One could hear the caulking irons… Against the hulls in the dockyard. Tar smoke rose between trees

Tonight my children hunch Toward their Western, and are gla… As, with a Sunday punch, The Good casts out the Bad. And in their fairy tales

In Italy, where this sort of thin… I had a vision once - though you u… It was nothing at all like Dante’… And perhaps not a vision at all.… Picking my way through a warm sunl…