Over you, over you, over, I hang like a wave, like a lover, Like a scimitar edged with hate; Too heavy with grief to be straigh… And far,

Wishes are birds. You have been c… With them, invisible, I sent you… Flown from my heart that long had… Surpassing winds in their sharp ea… You have not seen their dim shades…

The stone falls, the bird flies, t… But we have no motion, we scatter… O, give me a song to sing for your… A song that will lift, like a wave… You and myself, that will fling li…

Now I am slow and placid, fond of… Like a sleek beast, or a worn one, No slim and languid girl – not gla… With the windy trip I once had, But velvet-footed, musing of my ow…

Expand, accustomed world No longer mean and small, Tight code, mean mind, crude dream… With ghost pioneers we see Horizons

Fearful of beauty, I always went Timidly indifferent: Dainty, hesitant, taking in Just what was tiniest and thin; Careful not to care

We who have seen the city’s sentin… Some iron-colored tower, monument To slow encroaching force–our thew… Against her girders! With her noi… From this our iron tongue we toll,…

The tree we lay under The thunder, the thunder Of my heart, and your wonder… And our weeping... Now we are old, we are worn, we ar…

Withhold your breath! Heavy in noon, and sleepy as slow… Garden of sweets and sours, The cluster of my body hangs Odorous with flowers:

Only a few hours! We danced like wind, Our faces like noon flowers, On one slim stem were lifted, turn… You flew, I followed, matched you…

Out of the forest, panther, come, Silken, supple, silent, lone– Out of the forest, drooped with ni… To your delight. Under bloom and over stone,

You are no more, but sunken in a s… Sheer into dream, ten thousand lea… And now you lie green-golden, whil… Swings with the tide, my heart: an… Till I look down, and wavering, t…

Forever lost–like birds forever fl… Searching bleak space, Circling, and with the south wind… Across earth’s face: Arrowed I fly, and like them lost…

Harsh, unuttered thunder Stood like a stone wall Above the marsh’s silver line. Crooked cranes, white as lightning… Flattened for an instant, flashing…

Men go to women mutely for their p… And they, who lack it most, create… They make–because they must, lovin… A solace for sad bosom-bended head… Is all the meager peace men get–no…