There had been phantoms, pale-reme
Of this and this occasion, sisterl
In their resemblances, each effigy
Crowned with the same bright hair
White rounded firmness, and each b

Dear absurd child—too dear to my c
God made your soul for pleasure, n
It cleaves no way, but angled broa
Impinges with a slabby-bellied sou
Full upon life, and on the rind of

Sitting on the top of the 'bus,
I bite my pipe and look at the sky
Over my shoulder the smoke streams
And my life with it.
“Conservation of energy,” you say.

While I have been fumbling over b
And thinking about God and the De
Other young men have been battling
And others have been kissing the b
They have brazen faces like batter

Evenings in trains,
When the little black twittering g
Along the brims of cuttings,
Against the luminous sky,
Interrupt with their hurrying rumo

Failing sometimes to understand
Why there are folk whose flesh sho
Like carrion puffed with noisome s
Fly-blown to the eye that looks on
Fly-blown to the touch of a hand;

Fine as the dust of plumy fountain
Across the lanterns of a revelling
The tiny leaves of April’s earlie
Powder the trees—so vaporously lig
They seem to float, billows of eme

Still life, still life ... the hig
Hard and sharp on the bottles: the
Stands firmly solid in the glasses
Smooth yellow ice, through which t
The lamp’s bright pencil of down-s

In the middle of countries, far fr
Are the little places one passes b
And never stops at; where the skie
Uninterrupted, and the level plain
Stretch green and yellow and green

There is a country in my mind,
Lovelier than a poet blind
Could dream of, who had never know
This world of drought and dust and
In all its ugliness: a place