Crowned with a feathered helmet,
Not for disguise or courtship
Dance, he looks like something...

Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font. ...

The skin ripples over my body like moon-wooed water,
rearing to escape me. Where could it find another
animal as naked as the one it hates to cover?...

Though the road turn at last   
to death’s ordinary door,   
and we knock there, ready   ...

Stay, I said
to the cut flowers.
They bowed ...

The poet pursues his beautiful theme;
The preacher his golden beatitude;
And I run after a vanishing dream—...

In the small beauty of the forest
The wild deer bedding down—
That they are there! ...

You squeezed its leash in your fist,
It followed where you led:
Tick, tock, tick, tock,...

When God at first made man,
Having a glass of blessings standing by,
“Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can....

Accept my need and let me call you brother,
Slate blue oyster, wet sand crustacean,
In your hurrying to burrow, wait. Hover. ...