Science, that simple saint, cannot… Figuring what anything is for: Enough for her devotions that thin… And can be contemplated soon as ga… She knows how every living thing w…

Have Gentlemen perhaps forgotten… We write the histories. Do Gentlemen who snigger at the p… Who speak the word professor with… Do Gentlemen expect their fame to…

THAT was by the door Leafy evening in the apple trees And you would not forget this anym… And even if you died there would b… Touchings remembered

There is no dusk to be, There is no dawn that was, Only there’s now, and now, And the wind in the grass. Days I remember of

THE gull’s image and the gull Meet upon the water All day I have thought of her There is nothing left of that year (There is sere-grass

A year or two, and grey Euripides… And Horace and a Lydia or so, And Euclid and the brush of Angel… Darwin on man, Vergilius on bees, The nose and Dialogues of Socrate…

First there is the wind but not like the familiar wind but long and without lapses or falling away or surges of air as is usual but rather like the persistent pressure of a river or a r...

And the rain since And I have not heard Leaf at the pane all winter Nor a bird’s wing beating as that… I have not seen

(1) Our epoch takes a voluptuous satis… In that perspective of the action Which pictures us inhabiting the e… Of everything with death for only…

Sun smudge on the smoky water

Sleep at noon. Window blind rattle and bang. Pay no mind. Door go jump like somebody coming: let him come. Tin roof drumming: drum away—she’s drummed before.

The star dissolved in evening—the… The silently and night O soon now, soon And still the light now and still now the large