Snow wraiths circle us Like washers of the dead, Flapping their white wet cloths Impatiently About the grizzled head,

We are old, Old as song. Before Rome was Or Cyrene. Mad nights knew us

Mama’s face is smooth and pale as tea-rose lea… That ivory oval of aunt Gem you sucked the miniature off had black black hair like mama.

Not your martyrs anointed of heave… The ages are red where they trod - But the Hunted - the world’s bitt… Who smote at your imbecile God - A being to pander and fawn to,

Come forth, you workers! Let the fires go cold’€” Let the iron spill out, out of the… Let the iron run wild Like a red bramble on the floors’€…

Long vast shapes... cooled and flu… Lidless windows Glazed with a flashy luster From some little pert café chirpin… And down among iron guts

Wind, just arisen - (Off what cool mattress of marsh-m… In tented boughs leaf-drawn before… Or niche of cliff under the eagles… You of living things,

Pythoness body—arching Over the night like an ecstasy— I feel your coils tightening... And the world’s lessening breath.

The foreman's head slowly circling... White rims under yellow disks of eyes.... Gold hairs

Out of the night you burn, Manhat… In a vesture of gold— Span of innumerable arcs, Flaring and multiplying— Gold at the uttermost circles fadi…

I love those spirits That men stand off and point at, Or shudder and hood up their souls… Those ruined ones, Where Liberty has lodged an hour

That day, in the slipping of torso… on the bloodied ooze of fields plo… And the smoke bluish near earth an… floating like cotton-down, And the harsh and terrible screami…

Life You have been good to me... You have not made yourself too dea… to juggle with.

The ore in the crucible is pungent… It is dusky red, like the ebb of p… And purple, like the blood of elde… Surely it is a strong wine - juice… I am drunk of its fumes.