Her little face is like a walnut s… With wrinkling lines; her soft, wh… Her withered brows in quaint, stra… And all about her clings an old, s… Prim is her gown and quakerlike he…

Heaven’s worry, scurries to earth; twisted planning, what’s to block… At sight of good plan, they turn t… the sight of their planning gives me a pain.

Why, my heart, do we love her so? (Geraldine, Geraldine!) Why does the great sea ebb and flo… Why does the round world spin? Geraldine, Geraldine,

The bashful Arides Has married an ugly wife, He was bored with his manner of li… Indifferent and discouraged he tho… Well do this as anything else.

I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,

Staring corpselike at the ceiling, See his harsh, unrazored features, Ghastly brown against the pillow, And his throat-so strangely bandag… Lack of work and lack of victuals,

Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth… I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours

Ko-Jin goes west from Ko-kaku-ro, The smoke-flowers are blurred over… His lone sail blots the far sky. And now I see only the river, The long Kiang, reaching heaven.

She passed and left no quiver in t… Moving among the trees, and clingi… in the air she severed, Fanning the grass she walked on th… Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-c…

Your mind and you are our Sargass… London has swept about you this sc… And bright ships left you this or… Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all… Strange spars of knowledge and dim…

Three spirits came to me And drew me apart To where the olive boughs Lay stripped upon the ground: Pale carnage beneath bright mist.

O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were dead already.

I do not choose to dream; there co… Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some o… The sword—hilt or the war—worn won… Brings momentary life and long—fle…

We are the Choice of the Will: G… That called us into line, set in o… Set us a sword to wield none else… And bade us forth to the sound of… East and west and north, wherever…

There is a wheel inside my head Of wantonness and wine, An old, cracked fiddle is begging… But the wind with scents of the se… And the sun seems glad to shine.