Palace in smoky light, Troy but a heap of smouldering bou… ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculei… Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prow… The silver mirrors catch the brigh…

O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patr… Give me in due time, I beseech yo… With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragrant cavendish

The rain and the wind, the wind an… They are with us like a disease: They worry the heart, they work th… As they shoulder and clutch at the… And savage the helpless trees.

Erinna is a model parent, Her children have never discovered… Lalage is also a model parent, Her offspring are fat and happy.

The little Millwins attend the Ru… The mauve and greenish souls of th… Were seen lying along the upper se… Like so many unused boas. The turbulent and undisciplined ho…

Your songs? Oh! The little mothers Will sing them in the twilight, And when the night Shrinketh the kiss of the dawn

We flash across the level. We thunder thro’ the bridges. We bicker down the cuttings. We sway along the ridges. A rush of streaming hedges,

Some may have blamed us that we ce… Of things we spoke of in our verse… Saying: a lovely voice is such as… Saying: that lady’s eyes were sad… Wherein the world’s whole joy is b…

An image of Lethe, and the fields Full of faint light but golden, Gray cliffs,

A square, squat room (a cellar on… Drab to the soul, drab to the very… Plasters astray in unnatural-looki… Scissors and lint and apothecary’s… Here, on a bench a skeleton would…

THE NEO-COMMUNE Manhood of England, Dougth of the Shires, Want Russia to save ‘em And answer their prayers.

The red and green kingfishers flash between the orchids and clov… One bird casts its gleam on anothe… Green vines hang through the high… They weave a whole roof to the mou…

For three years, out of key with h… He strove to resuscitate the dead… Of poetry; to maintain “the sublim… In the old sense. Wrong from the… No, hardly, but seeing he had been…

Vex not thou the banker’s mind (His what?) with a show of sense, Vex it not, Willie, his mind, Or pierce its pretence On the supposition that it ever

Agathas Four and forty lovers had Agathas… All of whom she refused; And now she turns to me seeking lo… And her hair also is turning.