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.

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…

Man of the flame-eyes And mouth with the bitter twist of… And little bald man . . . whose se… Is akin to the velocity of a spinn… Holding its perfect poise—

Your love was like moonlight turning harsh things to beauty, so that little wry souls reflecting each other obliquely as in cracked mirrors . . .

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…

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…

Wind, just arisen - (Off what cool mattress of marsh-m… In tented boughs leaf-drawn before… Or niche of cliff under the eagles… You of living things,

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 am of the wind... A wisp of the battering wind... I trail my fingers along the Alps And an avalanche falls in my wake.… I feel in my quivering length

There is music in the strong Deep-throated bush, Whisperings of song Heard in the leaves’ hush - Ballads of the trees

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’…

How should they appraise you, who… Only time standing well off shall…

Not yet hast Thou sounded Thy clangorous music, Whose strings are under the mounta… Not yet hast Thou spoken The blooded, implacable Word...

He walked under the shadow of the… Where men are fed into the fires And walled apart… Unarmed and alone, He summoned his mates from the pit…

Do you remember Honey-melon moon Dripping thick sweet light Where Canal Street saunters off b… And the faint decayed patchouli—