From an epigram by Plato When I was a boy, a relative Asked for me a job At the Weeks Cemetery. Think of all I could

I hear that the Commune di Padova… pieces from Giotto to Mantegna. G… Mantegna is the master of the dead… beings who seems to have understoo… down from the cross after all, in…

It can’t be the passing of time th… That white shadow across the water… Just offshore. I shiver a little, with the evenin… I turn down the steep path to find

Near the dry river’s water-mark we… Your brother Minnegan, Flopped like a fish against the mu… Beany, the kid whose yellow hair t… Told me to find you, even if the r…

Give me this time, my first and se… Italian, a poem about gold, The left corners of eyes, and the… Night of the locomotives that brou… And the heavy wine in the old gree…

Beautiful natural blossoms, Pure delicate body, You stand without trembling. Little mist of fallen starlight, Perfect, beyond my reach,

The house was really a cellar deep… Belmont Brewery. My father’s big… from the outside, and from within… leaned and helped. The slow door g… in delighted by our fear, and laid…

Just off the highway to Rochester… Twilight bounds softly forth on th… And the eyes of those two Indian… Darken with kindness. They have come gladly out of the w…

Varus, varus, gib mir meine Legio… Quick on my feet in those Novembe… I tossed a short pass, Almost the instant I got the ball… Of Barrel Terry before he knocked…

It is all right. All they do Is go in by dividing One rib from another. I wouldn’t Lie to you. It hurts Like nothing I know. All they do

The moon drops one or two feathers… The dark wheat listens. Be still. Now. There they are, the moon’s young,…

The whole city Is stone, even Where stone Doesn’t belong. What is that old

I will grieve alone, As I strolled alone, years ago, d… The Ohio shore. I hid in the hobo jungle weeds Upstream from the sewer main,

In the Shreve High football stadi… I think of Polacks nursing long b… And gray faces of Negroes in the… And the ruptured night watchman of… Dreaming of heroes.

Lured by the wall, and drawn To stare below the roof, Where pigeons nest aloof From prowling cats and men, I count the sash and bar