O lady, when the tipped cup of the
You became soft fire with a cloud’
The difficult stars swam for eyes
You stood, and your shadow was my
You turned, your shadow turned to

With nothing to brag about but the
Tearing boar-flesh and swilling al
A fermenting of huge-chested bragg
Got nowhere by sitting still
To hear some timorous poet enlarge

Crow, feeling his brain slip,
Finds his every feather the fossil
Who murdered all these?
These living dead, that root in hi
Till he is visibly black?

He loved her and she loved him
His kisses sucked out her whole pa
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she suc
She wanted him complete inside her

Love struck into his life
Like a hawk into a dovecote.
What a cry went up!
Every gentle pedigree dove
Blindly clattered and beat,

In the beginning was Scream
Who begat Blood
Who begat Eye
Who begat Fear
Who begat Wing

Who owns those scrawny little feet
Who owns this bristly scorched—loo
Who owns these still—working lungs
Who owns this utility coat of musc
Who owns these unspeakable guts?

Russia and America circle each ot
Threats nudge an act that were wit
A melting of the mould in the moth
Stones melting about the root.
The quick of the earth burned out:

The flame—red moon, the harvest mo
Rolls along the hills, gently boun
A vast balloon,
Till it takes off, and sinks upwar
To lie on the bottom of the sky, l

We sit late, watching the dark slo
No clock counts this.
When kisses are repeated and the a
There is no telling where time is.
It is midsummer: the leaves hang b