Nothing in the world more true than love,
but that as well by thee no more;
and what in such abandonment I seek
is not thy love, nor hate by more
...
I sit still by the oak tree,
waiting to hear the church bell,
ring with e'ery falling star,
so deafening to the ear in winter cold;
...
When majestic sun from sullen earth shall raise
All battered things more witness to this world,
That still by recourse to the mind alone
'Gainst the wall on high in desert titan,
...
No, sir! I'll not visit you places far-off
beyond the sunrise to Montana, Missouri,
bag-pies of blue-stockings, heaven-ward bent;
tightly knit to my thought her apparels in spring,
...
A red sock with a straw hat on knees
in ruffled feathers,
strolling, strolling, away from high heavens
this fedora of yore drifting dream amiss,
...
Think not of light in her eyes,
far beyond the sunrise,
a darker hand to a close afraid;
measured by the distance of the world,
...
Cruel heart! love ye not by Savannah's lake
her persistent cries,
a shrub of wrinkled lip in my spilt words
such darling buds of may,
...
No needest I in less travelled time,
princely steps heavily weighed down
by my bagpies, of fair weather days
down the lane in amber woods,
...
When all thoughts drown but not a thought of thee,
When all mirrors fade before thine eye
And against the wall a belat'd sight,
By vaunting looks for more light and love,
...
Of fealty's Apollo at my door her stumbled feet,
above the mundane, so fair thy form,
bereft of sight her charms too shall fade
away from high heavens
...