By nightfall did we reach,
And so begin our destination.
As though I would, at least, assume it was a stable course.
Though unsteady was the travel.
...
Words are but a shallow well,
With strength to delve within their source
Of power, in the heart and tongue, and long continuations.
Removing logic from the mind,
...
Slipping sand dunes, ice cold sundown,
Windblown waves and soft-streaked bay.
I liked when you were better off and
Loving tiptoe tempest tales,
...
Let us break our bread with travelers,
And feast on ashen ruin in the face of stolen graves.
To them a nighttime stroll is nothing more than simple footsteps,
A candle in the cradle of the sea.
...
Tilted over sky and earth, as but a passing,
Till in grace and in an instant,
You have overthrown the river, as
A hiding place and refuge, for the lost.
...
Some branches,
Worn with intermittent hands,
Have grown sturdy. In order that
Time might be spent
...
Presently, they followed bard and whim,
To evanescent tangles, spritely tales.
Bought with fortunes,
As a little time is worth the grain of deep.
...
The bitter chill of icy breath
Sweeps lightly over passing day
And marking willful sadness takes
The new approach of scornful daze.
...
The feet that pad on mossy earth
Through gilded forests, rimmed with green,
The shadows flit through sunlit air,
To dance upon the frigid streams.
...