One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…

Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…

Her body is not so white as anemone petals nor so smooth ——nor so remote a thing. It is a field of the wild carrot taking the field by force; the grass

There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind

Pour the wine bridegroom where before you the bride is enthroned her hair loose at her temples a head of ripe wheat is on

Upon the table in their bowl in violent disarray of yellow sprays, green spikes of leaves, red pointed petals and curled heads of blue

unless there is a new mind there cannot be a new line

If you had come away with me into another state we had been quiet together. But there the sun coming up out of the nothing beyond the lake…

Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely

Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed to one, Passion '€˜tis and pain which ming… Glist’ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity

And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks… her dress in a strange bedroom— feels the autumn

The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail

The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices

If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the

They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the rigid wheeltracks.