Little round moon up there—wait awhile—do not walk so quickly. I could sing you a song—: Wine clear the sky is and the stars no bigger than sparks! Wait for me and next winter we’ll bui...

Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,

Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on

Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,

One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…

unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge

Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…

Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest

All the complicated details of the attiring and the disattiring are completed! A liquid moon moves gently among

I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.