A Minstrel stands on a marble sta… Blown by the bright wind, debonair… Below lies the sea, a sapphire flo… Above on the terrace a turret door Frames a lady, listless and wan,

On winter nights beside the nurser… We read the fairy tale, while glow… Builded its pictures. There befor… We saw the vaulted hall of traceri… Uprear itself, the distant ceiling…

How long shall I tarnish the mirr… A spatter of rust on its polished… The seasons reel Like a goaded wheel. Half-numb, half-maddened, my days…

White, glittering sunlight fills t… Spotted and sprigged with shadows.… Of bartering booths spread out the… Of globed and golden fruit, the mo… Smells sweet with ripeness, on the…

Panels of claret and blue which sh… Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak… Through the muddy ruts of a moorla…

As I sit here in the quiet Summer… Suddenly, from the distant road, t… The grind and rush of an electric… And, from still farther off, An engine puffs sharply,

At first a mere thread of a footpa… Sweeping triumphant across it, it… Whose blossoms were poised above l… While hidden by bloom in a hawthor… It widened a highway, majestic, st…

The tall yellow hollyhocks stand, Still and straight, With their round blossoms spread o… In the quiet sunshine. And still is the old Roman wall,

GRASS-BLADES push up between… And catch the sun on their flat si… Shooting it back, Gold and emerald, Into the eyes of passers-by.

When I have baked white cakes And grated green almonds to spread… When I have picked the green crow… And piled them, cone-pointed, in a… When I have smoothed the seam of…

What instinct forces man to journe… Urged by a longing blind but domin… Nothing he sees can hold him, noth… His never failing eagerness. The… Setting in splendour every night h…

Goaded and harassed in the factory That tears our life up into bits o… Ticked off upon a clock which neve… Shredding our portion of Eternity… We break away at last, and steal t…

Slowly, without force, the rain dr… on the carved head of Saint John,… over his stone cloak. It splashes… and falls from it in turmoil on th… Where are the people, and why does…

Where else in all America are we… As in this hall? White columns polished like glass, A dome and a dome, A balcony and a balcony,

I learnt to write to you in happie… And every letter was a piece I ch… From off my heart, a fragment newl… From the mosaic of life; its blues… Its throbbing reds, I gave to ear…