BROTHER, I am fire Surging under the ocean floor. I shall never meet you, brother— Not for years, anyhow; Maybe thousands of years, brother.

I LOVE your faces I saw the man… I drank your milk and filled my mo… With your home talk, slept in your… And was one of you. But a fire burns in my heart.

GIVE me your anathema. Speak new damnations on my head. The evening mist in the hills is s… The boulders on the road say commu… The farm dogs look out of their ey…

THE owl-car clatters along, dogge… From building and battered paving-… The headlight scoffs at the mist, And fixes its yellow rays in the c… Against a pane I press my forehea…

AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…

FACES of two eternities keep loo… One is Omar Khayam and the red st… wherein men forget yesterday and t… and remember only the voices and s… the stories, newspapers and fights…

Chatter of birds two by two raises… showing the russet of old stones r… And the long willows drowse on the… joined songs of day-end, feathery… It is too much for the long willow…

or a man out of the ashes of false dawn muttering 'hot-dog’ to the night watchmen: Is there a spieler who has spoken the word or taken the number of night’s nothings? am I the spieler? ...

YOUR bony head, Jazbo, O dock w… Those grappling hooks, those wheel… The dome and the wings of you, nig… The red roof and the door of you, I know where your songs came from.

Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary Good-by now to the streets and the… locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckle… The muscles of the horses sliding…

IN Abraham Lincoln’s city, Where they remember his lawyer’s s… The place where they brought him Wrapped in battle flags, Wrapped in the smoke of memories

THE SEA at its worst drives a w… The same sea sometimes so easy and… So you were there when the white f… And the salt spatter and the rack… You were done fingering these, and…

COUNT these reminiscences like m… The Greeks had their picnics unde… The Romans wore glad rags and tol… The Carlovingians hauling logs on… Stuck their noses in the air and s…

TODAY I will let the old boat s… Where the sweep of the harbor tide… To the pulse of a far, deep-steady… And I will rest and dream and sit… Watching the world go by

Five geese deploy mysteriously. Onward proudly with flagstaffs, Hearses with silver bugles, Bushes of plum-blossoms dropping For ten mystic web-feet—