They left their Babylon bare Of all its tall men, Of all its proud horses ; They made for Lebanon. And shadowy sowers went

Lamp-lit faces, to you What is your starry dew? Gold flowers of the night blue! Deep in wet pavement’s slime Mud-rooted is your fierce prime,

The plunging limbers over the shat… Racketed with their rusty freight, Stuck out like many crowns of thor… And the rusty stakes like sceptres… To stay the flood of brutish men

I mingle with your bones: You steal in subtle noose This lighted dust .Jehovah loans And now I lose. What will the Lender say

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.

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…

The darkness crumbles away It is the same old druid Time as… Only a live thing leaps my hand, A queer sardonic rat, As I pull the parapet’s poppy

Nudes—stark and glistening, Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning f… And raging limbs Whirl over the floor one fire. For a shirt verminously busy

I love you, great new Titan! Am I not you? Napoleon or Caesar Out of you grew. Out of the unthinkable torture,

In his malodorous brain what slugs… Lanthorned in his oblique eyes, gu… His body lodged a rat where men nu… The world flashed grape-green eyes… To him. On fragments of an old sh…

My Maker shunneth me: Even as a wretch stricken with lep… So hold I pestilent supremacy. Yea! He Instil fled far as the ut… Beyond the unperturbed fastnesses…

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

Your ‘ Youth ’ has fallen from it… And you have fallen, you yourself. They knocked a soldier on the head… I mourn the poet who fell dead. And yet I think it was by chance,

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

The moon is in an ecstasy, It wanes not nor can grow ; The heavens are in a mist of love, And deepest knowledge know: What things in nature seem to move