All all and all the dry worlds lev… Stage of the ice, the solid ocean, All from the oil, the pound of lav… City of spring, the governed flowe… Turns in the earth that turns the…

Sometimes the sky’s too bright, Or has too many clouds or birds, And far away’s too sharp a sun To nourish thinking of him. Why is my hand too blunt

When all my five and country sense… The fingers will forget green thum… How, through the halfmoon’s vegeta… Husk of young stars and handfull z… Love in the frost is pared and win…

Was there a time when dancers with… In children’s circuses coul stay t… There was a time they could cry ov… But time has set its maggot on the… Under the arc of the sky they are…

Our eunuch dreams, all seedless in… Of light and love, the tempers of… Whack their boy’s limbs, And, winding—footed in their shawl… Groom the dark brides, the widows…

This bread I break was once the o… This wine upon a foreign tree Plunged in its fruit; Man in the day or wine at night Laid the crops low, broke the grap…

I see the boys of summer in their… Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, freez… There in their heat the winter flo… Of frozen loves they fetch their g…

How soon the servant sun, (Sir morrow mark), Can time unriddle, and the cupboar… (Fog has a bone He’ll trumpet into meat),

It is a winter’s tale That the snow blind twilight ferri… And floating fields from the farm… Gliding windless through the hand… The pale breath of cattle at the s…