This is the first thing
I have understood:
Time is the echo of an axe
Within a wood.

I saw three ships go sailing by,
Over the sea, the lifting sea,
And the wind rose in the morning s
And one was rigged for a long jour
The first ship turned towards the

Strange to know nothing, never to
Of what is true or right or real,
But forced to qualify or so I fee
Or Well, it does seem so:
Someone must know.

At once whatever happened starts r
Panting, and back on board, we lin
With trousers ripped, light wallet
Yes, gone, thank God! Remembering
We toss for half the night, but fi

Closed like confessionals, they th
Loud noons of cities, giving back
None of the glances they absorb.
Light glossy grey, arms on a plaqu
They come to rest at any kerb:

Swerving east, from rich industria
And traffic all night north; swerv
Too thin and thistled to be called
And now and then a harsh—named hal
Workmen at dawn; swerving to solit

To put one brick upon another,
Add a third and then a forth,
Leaves no time to wonder whether
What you do has any worth.
But to sit with bricks around you

At last you yielded up the album,
Once open, sent me distracted. Al
Matt and glossy on the thick black
Too much confectionery, too rich:
I choke on such nutritious images.

The widest prairies have electric
For though old cattle know they mu
Young steers are always scenting p
Not here but anywhere. Beyond the
Leads them to blunder up against t

‘This was Mr Bleaney’s room. He
The whole time he was at the Bodi
They moved him.’ Flowered curtain
Fall to within five inches of the
Whose window shows a strip of buil