IMPERIAL Madness, will of hand… Builds vast an altar here, and rea… Before the world, on godly land, A Moloch form of blood and tears. And far as eye can see, behold,

How long we had hid there and list… Where the trees let in winks o’ th… ‘Fore their Winchesters glittered… In the gully below by the run, I never kep’ count. It wuz mornin…

There is a scent of roses and spil… Between the moonlight and the laur… The marble idol glimmers on its sh… White as a star, among a heaven of… Here all my life lies like a spilt…

The cactus and the aloe bloom Beneath the window of your room; Your window where, at evenfall, Beneath the twilight’s first pale… You linger, tall and spiritual,

A Broken rainbow on the skies of… Touching the dripping roses and lo… And in wet clouds its scattered gl… So in the sorrow of her soul the g… Of one great love, of iridescent r…

The days that clothed white limbs… And rocked the red rose on their b… Have passed with amber-sandaled fe… Into the ruby-gated west. These were the days that filled th…

Baroque, but beautiful, between th… The valves of nacre of a mussel-sh… Behold, a pearl! shaped like the b… Of some strange blossom that long… Of summer coax to open: all the mo…

These are the things I pray Heave… To blow the ashes of the years awa… Or keep aglow forever 'neath their… The fire that warms when Life’s o… First Faith, that gazed into our…

Tattered, in ragged raiment of the… The Night arrives. Outside the wi… He stands and, streaming, taps upo… Or, crouching down beside the cell… Letting his hat-brim drain,

All night I lay upon the rocks: And now the dawn comes up this way… One great star trembling in her lo… Of rosy ray. I can not tell the things I’ve se…

Misty are the far-off hills And misty are the near; Purple hazes dimly lie Veiling hill and field and sky, Marshes where the hylas cry,

High on a throne of noisome ooze a… ‘Mid rotting trees of bayou and la… Ghastly she sits beneath the skele… A tawny horror coiling at her feet Fever, whose eyes keep watching, s…

Not here, O belovéd! not here let… Out there where the storm can enfo… Its breast, that is rainy and cool… In the luminous night of’ the wood… Not here, O belovéd! not here! bu…

NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,

Here among the beeches Winds and wild perfume, That the twilight pleaches Into gleam and gloom, Build for her a room.