The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city, Over the pale grey tumbled towers, And settles among the roofs, the pale grey walls. Along damp sinuous streets it crawls,...
The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea. The walls and towers are warmed and gleam. Sounds go drowsily up from streets and wharves. The city stirs like one that is half in dream. ...
More towers must yet be built, more towers destroyed, Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in high pale sunlight With gulls about him, and clouds just over his eyes . . ....
The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls On bright red roofs and walls; The trees in the park exhale a ghost of rain; We go from door to door in the streets again,...
'Draw three cards, and I will tell your future . . . Draw three cards, and lay them down, Rest your palms upon them, stare at the crystal, And think of time . . . My father was a clown,...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of pigeons rises with blue wings flashing, Rises with whistle of wings, hovers an instant,...
She turned her head on the pillow, and cried once more. And drawing a shaken breath, and closing her eyes, To shut out, if she could, this dingy room, The wigs and costumes scattered around the floor,...
Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves about them like a sea. Recurring waves of sound break vaguely about them,...
Well, it was two days after my husband died, Two days! And the earth still raw above him. And I was sweeping the carpet in their hall. In number four, the room with the red wall-paper,...
The days, the nights, flow one by one above us, The hours go silently over our lifted faces, We are like dreamers who walk beneath a sea. Beneath high walls we flow in the sun together....
'Number four, the girl who died on the table, The girl with golden hair,' The purpling body lies on the polished marble. We open the throat, and lay the thyroid bare . . . ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares . . . The trodden grass in the park is covered with white,...
As evening falls, And the yellow lights leap one by one Along high walls; And along black streets that glisten as if with rain, The muted city seems Like one in a restless sleep, who lies and dreams...
You read, what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand turns the page. I watch you from my window, unsuspected:...
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten; The music changes tone, you wake, remember Deep worlds you lived before, deep worlds hereafter Of leaf on falling leaf, music on music,...
Of what she said to me that night, no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of music, something she played me; I couldn't remember it all, but phrases of it...
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us, Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes; You strike a match and stare upon the flame. The tiny fire leaps in your eyes a moment,...
This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you may lift your lanterns, O, any number, it will still be night....
You see that porcelain ranged there in the window, Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds, And tiny violets, and wreaths of ivy? See how the pattern clings to the gleaming edges!...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the deep sudden stroke the pigeons fly . . . The fine snow flutes the cracks between the flagstones....