One glance and I had lost her in the riot
Of tangled cries.
She trod the clamor with a cloistral quiet
Deep in her eyes
...
All night long we had heard the voice of the Sea
Roaming the corridors.
Across the worn and hollow floors
There went a ghostly tread incessantly.
...
As I walked through the dream-peopled streets
Of the wind-rustling, elm-shaded city
Where all of the houses were friends
And the trees were all lovers of her,
...
No lapidary's heaven, no brazier's hell for me,
For I am made of dust and dew and stream and plant and tree:
I'm close akin to boulders, I am cousin to the mud,
And all the winds of all the sky make music in my blood.
...