We have now won two world-wars, neither of which concerned us, we were

Let that doll lie. Consider if you like how the lilies grow,Lean on the silent rock until you feel its divinityMake your veins cold; look at the silent stars, let your eyesClimb the great ladder out of the pit of yourself and man.Things are so beautiful, your love will follow your eyes;Things are the God;…

But there’s no storm; and the birds are still, no song; no kind of excess;Nothing that shines, nothing is dark;There; is neither joy nor grief nor a person, the sun’s toothsheathed in cloud,And life has no more desires than a stone.The stormy conditions of time and change are all abrogated, the essentialViolences of survival, pleasure,Love,…

Consented to make peace with the people,It is pitiful now to watch her pleasure In a breath oftempestBreaking the sad promise of spring.Are these that morose hawk’s wings, vaulting, a meremad swallow’s,The snow-shed peak, the violent precipice?Poor outlaw that would not value their praise do youprize their blame?‘Their liking’ she said ‘was a long creance,But…

The rivers open their mouths and the salt salmonRace up into the freshet.In Christmas month against the smoulder and menaceOf a long angry sundown,Red ash of the dark solstice, you see the anglers,Pitiful, cruel, primeval,Like the priests of the people that built Stonehengc,Dark silent forms, performingRemote solemnities in the red shallowsOf the river’s mouth at…

Pict and Gael and Dane, McQuillan, Clandonnel, O’Neill,Savages, the Scot, the Norman, the English,Here in the narrow passage and the pitiless north, perpetualBetrayals, relentless resultless fighting.A random fury of dirks in the dark: a struggle for survivalOf hungry blind cells of life in the womb.But now the womb has grown old, her strength has gone…

Of autumn pelicans nine or a dozen strung shorelong,But chiefly the gulls, the cloud-caligraphers of windy spiralsbefore a storm,Cruise north and south over the sea-rocks and overThat bluish enormous opal; very lately these alone, these and thecloudsAnd westering lights of heaven, crossed it; but thenA hull with standing canvas crept about Point Lobos . ….