NOVEMBER, 1929 Come (we say) Clemenceau. Why should you live longer than ot… Us down, and the former stars, dra… No wrench for a man near ninety.

Beyond the narrows of the Inner H… We sailed the cold angry sea towar… Lifts like a mast. There were few… year; I noticed most an old shephe… Two wise-eyed dogs wove anxious ci…

The sky was cold December blue wi… and the little river Ran full but clear. A bare-legged… in a red jersey was wading in it, holding a five-tined

A little too abstract, a little to… It is time for us to kiss the eart… It is time to let the leaves rain… Let the rich life run to the roots… I will go to the lovely Sur River…

Ed Stiles and old Tom Birnam wen… bare hills Above Mai Paso; they’d ridden und… when they reached the ridge the hu… Of a certain cloud-lapped astonish…

It is likely enough that lions and… Guard the end; life never was bond… act of dying Unpainful; the brain burning too o… Earns, though it held itself detac…

No bitterness: our ancestors did i… They were only ignorant and hopefu… Their children will learn to hope… Or rather—for we are not aquiline… Some kindly Sicilian tyrant who’l…

When the sun shouts and people abo… One thinks there were the ages of… bronze And the iron age; iron the unstabl… Steel made of iron, unstable as hi…

Drink deep, drink deep of quietnes… And on the margins of the sea Remember not thine old distress Nor all the miseries to be. Calmer than mists, and cold

In the purple light, heavy with re… Headlong convexities of forest, dr… ravine. Below, on the sea-cliff, A lonely clearing; a little field… under spared trees. Then the ocean

Like mourning women veiled to the… Tall slender rainstorms walk slowl… far verge. The ocean is green where the river… Dull gray between the points of th…

At night, toward dawn, all the lig… And the wind moves. Moves in the… The sleeping power of the ocean, n… Not to be compared; itself and its… Its breath blown shoreward huddles…