Saint, revolutionist, God and sage know well, That there is a place Where that much-rung bell, The well-beloved body,

Faithful to your commandments, o c… Holy bird of words soaring ever wh… to inconceivable fulfillment slowl… And still I follow you, awkward a… and as awkward as his albatross an…

You, my photographer, you, most aw… Who climbed to the bridge when the… Climbed with your camera when the… And lighted your flashes and, stan… Wound the camera in the sudden bur…

“the cure of souls.” Henry James The radiant soda of the seashore f… Fun, foam and freedom. The sea la… The Shaven sand. And the light sw… On self-destroying waves.

Calmly we walk through this April… Metropolitan poetry here and there… In the park sit pauper and rentier… The screaming children, the motor-… Fugitive about us, running away,

(Robert Frost, 1875-1963) Whose wood this is I think I know… He made it sacred long ago: He will expect me, far or near To watch that wood immense with sn…

In the morning, when it was rainin… Then the birds were hectic and lou… Through all the reign is fall’s en… Their singing was erratic and full… They did not remember the summer b…

I Christmas Poem for Nancy Noel, Noel We live and we die Between heaven and hell Between the earth and the sky

When from the watercolored window… Each is but and clear to see, not… So does the neat print in an actua… Marching as if to true conclusion,… The illimitable blue immensely ove…

Someone is harshly coughing on the… Sudden excitement catching the fle… Who is the sick one? Who will knock at the door, Ask what is wrong and sweetly pay…

Socrates ghost must haunt me now, Notorious death has let him go, He comes to me with a clumsy bow, Saying in his disused voice, That I do not know I do not know,

(After Rilke) The city floats no longer like a b… To hook the nimble darting summer… The glazed and brittle palaces pul… And glitter. Summer’s garden sway…

Nothing is given which is not take… Little or nothing is taken which i… freely, truly and fully. “You would not seek me if you had… true of all that is supremely desi…

I should have been a plumber fixin… And mending pure white bathtubs fo… (who scorned all lies, all liars,… And then, perhaps, he would bestow… (O modesty aside, forgive my falle…