’Tis not too late to build our you… Cleaner than Holland, courtlier t… Devout like early Rome, with hear… Hearths that will recreate the bre…

Climbing the heights of Berkeley Nightly I watch the West. There lies new San Francisco, Sea-maid in purple dressed, Wearing a dancer’s girdle

Ah, in the night, all music haunts… Is it for naught high Heaven crac… And the tremendous Amaranth desce… Sweet with the glory of ten thousa… Does it not mean my God would hav…

This section is a Christmas tree: Loaded with pretty toys for you. Behold the blocks, the Noah’s ark… The popguns painted red and blue. No solemn pine-cone forest-fruit,

(What the Mendicant Said ) The moon’s a monk, unmated, Who walks his cell, the sky. His strength is that of heaven-vow… Who all life’s flames defy.

[During an anti-saloon campaign… In the midst of the battle I turn… (For the thunders could flourish w… And hid by a rose-hung wall, Forgetting the murder about me;

Though better men may fear that tr… I meet you, lady, on the Judgment… With golden hope my spirit still a… Our God who made you all so fair… Is three times gentle, and before…

And must the Senator from Illinoi… Be this squat thing, with blinking… This brazen gutter idol, reared to… Upon a leering pyramid of lies? And must the Senator from Illinoi…

‘There’s machinery in the butterfl… There’s a mainspring to the bee; There’s hydraulics to a daisy, And contraptions to a tree. ‘If we could see the birdie

A Recitation for Martha Wakefiel… There was a little turtle. He lived in a box. He swam in a puddle. He climbed on the rocks.

I. THE VOICE OF THE… We find your soft Utopias as whit… As new-cut bread, and dull as life… O, scribes who dare forget how wil… How human breasts adore alarum bel…

(The poem shows the Master, wi… I heard Immanuel singing Within his own good lands, I saw him bend above his harp. I watched his wandering hands

What the Carpenter Said The moon’s a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of lig… A sparkle through the pane,

The Moon’€™s a snowball. See the… Of white that cross the sphere. The Moon’€™s a snowball, melted d… A dozen times a year. Yet rolled again in hot July

(To be sung by a leader and chorus… I’ve been to Palestine. What did you see in Palestine? I saw the ark of Noah— It was made of pitch and pine.