Slow, rigid, is this masquerade That passes as through a difficult… Heavily-heavily passes. What has she fed on? Who her tabl… Through the three seasons? What f…

Girl To A Soldier On Leave Love! You love me '€” your eyes Have looked through death at mine. You have tempted a grave too much I let you '€” I repine.

Ah, Koelue! Had you embalmed your beauty, so It could not backward go, Or change in any way, What were the use, if on my eyes

My eyes catch ruddy necks Sturdily pressed back - All a red brick moving glint. Like flaming pendulums, hands Swing across the khaki -

As the pregnant womb of night Thrills with imprisoned light, Misty, nebulous-born, Growing deeper into her morn, So man, with no sudden stride,

0, in a world of men and women, Where all things seemed so strange… And speech the common world called… For me was a vain mimicry, I thought-O, am I one in sorrow?

Fret the nonchalant noon With your spleen Or your gay brow, For the motion of your spirit Ever moves with these.

Godhead’s lip hangs When our pulses have no golden tre… And his whips are flicked by mice And all star-amorous things. Drops, drops of shivering quiet

Space beats the ruddy freedom of t… Their naked dances with man’s spir… By the root side of the tree of li… (The under side of things And shut from earth’s profoundest…

I have lived in the underworld so… How can you, a creature of light, Without terror understand the song And unmoved hear what moves in nig… I am a spirit that yours has found…

Through these pale cold days What dark faces burn Out of three thousand years, And their wild eyes yearn, While underneath their brows

Caught still as Absalom, Surely the air hangs From the swayless cloud-boughs Like hair of Absalom Caught and hanging still.

If you are fire and I am fire, Who blows the flame apart So that desire eludes desire Around one central heart? A single root and separate bough,

My days are but the tombs of burie… Which tombs are hidden in the pile… But from the mounds there spring u… Whose beauty well repays their cos… Time, like a sexton, pileth mould…

As a sword in the sun A glory calling a glory Our eyes, seeing it run, Capture its gleam for our story. Singer, marvellous gleam