Bountiful Givers, I look along the years And see the flowers you threw’€¦ Anemones And sprigs of gray

I remember The crackle of the palm trees Over the mooned white roofs of the… The shining town’€¦ And the tender fumbling of the sur…

Skyscrapers... remote, unpartisan.… Turning neither to the right nor l… Your imperturbable fronts.... Austerely greeting the sun With one chilly finger of stone...…

Indigo bulb of darkness Punctured by needle lights Through a fissure of brick canyon… And a sliver of moon Spigoting two high windows over th…

Spires of Grace Church, For you the workers of the world Travailed with the mountains’€¦ Aborting their own dreams Till the dream of you arose -

That was a great night we spied up… See-sawing home, Singing a hot sweet song to the su… Shuffling off behind the smoke-haz… Fog-horns sentimentalizing on the…

Life You have been good to me... You have not made yourself too dea… to juggle with.

Long vast shapes... cooled and flu… Lidless windows Glazed with a flashy luster From some little pert café chirpin… And down among iron guts

That day, in the slipping of torso… on the bloodied ooze of fields plo… And the smoke bluish near earth an… floating like cotton-down, And the harsh and terrible screami…

What of the silence of the keys And silvery hands? The iron sings… Though bows lie broken on the stri… The fly-wheels turn eternally’€¦ Bring fuel - drive the fires high’…

Cool, inaccessible air Is floating in velvety blackness s… But no breath stirs the heat Leaning its ponderous bulk upon th… And most on Hester street…

It is dark’€¦ so dark, I remember… It is still’€¦ so still, I hear t… Ten times we had watched the moon Rise like a thin white virgin out… And round into a full maternity’€¦

I have known only my own shallows… Safe, plumbed places, Where I was wont to preen myself. But for the abyss I wanted a plank beneath

Out of the night you burn, Manhat… In a vesture of gold— Span of innumerable arcs, Flaring and multiplying— Gold at the uttermost circles fadi…

A late snow beats With cold white fists upon the ten… Hurriedly drawing blinds and shutt… Like tall old slatterns Pulling aprons about their heads.