With night-hued shadows dance the silver strips
Of lovely Mistress Moon's visage ashine.
The crickets sing the fairness of her lips,
Their strings lay praise in rows out line by line.
...
My darling babe,
Do not let the nightlings
Bug you again now,
...
Welcome to this little odd world
Where your words are without weight,
Where what you work writhes in its rate,
And want-ward wending impearled.
...
I peer into the park, the revel-table
Sitting on the grass where memories are made.
I feel the breeze brushing in the gambols
Throughout the throngs of shrubby shade.
...
There once was a grunt so doubtlessly fair,
Black cats came out of his mouth with much flair.
They spread far and wide
On Earth's every side,
...
Go on, o ash—dye all thy grey,
And leave the naked wind to say
'Farewell', to sing low in the deep
A song of rest, or endless sleep.
...
Thy bitterness, again to me it calls
With naughty fingers and so sweet a voice,
In-soaking all my heart's unsavoury galls
And gets to me enthralled—far gone is choice.
...
Waiting… waiting…
People passing…
Odours wafting...
Fading… fading…
...
What am I but a shadow of time,
An end of other powers memorized?
I am a grain of sand taken by the tidal flows
'Til I'm beached upon the rocky shore
...