Come close to me, dear Annie, whi… A tale of burning love between a k… The pot was stalwart iron and the… And though their sides were black… Forget that kettle, Jamie, and th…

Under your Milky Way And slow—revolving Bear Frogs from the alder thicket pray In terror of your judgement day, Loud with repentance there.

We found the little captain at the… His men lay well-aligned. We touched his hand—stone cold—and… And they, all dead behind, Had never reached their goal, but…

He fell in victory’s fierce pursui… Holed through and through with sho… A sabre sweep had hacked him deep Twixt neck and shoulderknot.... The potman cannot well recall,

He had met hours of the clock he n… Dumb, dragging, mirthless hours co… Bone—chilling, hungry hours when t… Bequeathing earth and heaven to gh… And will not hear man groan chaine…

Though I am an old man With my bones very brittle, Though I am a poor old man Worth very little, Yet I suck at my long pipe

A purple whale Proudly sweeps his tail Towards Nineveh; Glassy green Surges between

Call it a good marriage — For no one ever questioned Her warmth, his masculinity, Their interlocking views; Except one stray graphologist

As Jesus and his followers Upon a Sabbath morn Were walking by a wheat field They plucked the ears of corn. They plucked it, they rubbed it,

I’ve whined of coming death, but n… It’s weak and most ungracious. Fo… Though still a boy if years are co… I’ve lived those years from roof t… And feel, like grey—beards touchin…

We looked, we loved, and therewith… Death became terrible to you and m… By love we disenthralled our natur… From every comfortable philosopher Or tall, grey doctor of divinity:

He, of his gentleness, Thirsting and hungering Walked in the Wilderness; Soft words of grace he spoke Unto lost desert—folk

Penthesileia, dead of profuse wond… Was despoiled of her arms by Prin… Who, for love of that fierce white… Necrophily on her committed In the public view.

Most venerable and learned sir, Tall and true Philosopher, These rings of smoke you blow all… With such deep thought, what sense… Small friend, with prayer and medi…

When I was not quite five years o… I first saw the blue picture book, And Fraulein Spitzenburger told Stories that sent me hot and cold; I loathed it, yet I had to look: