He, in the room above, grown old and tired, She, in the room below, his floor her ceiling, Pursue their separate dreams. He turns his light, And throws himself on the bed, face down, in laughter. . . ....
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you, Why do you ask me, save for vanity? Surely you would not have me, like a mirror, Say 'yes, your hair curls darkly back from the temples,...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, Moving like music, secret and rich and warm. How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn?...
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east: And lights wink out through the windows, one by one. A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night....
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east: And lights wink out through the windows, one by one....
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. ...
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...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son, or something He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers? The soul flies far, and we can only call it...
Through that window, all else being extinct Except itself and me, I saw the struggle Of darkness against darkness. Within the room It turned and turned, dived downward. Then I saw...