Others, an Anthology of the New Verse

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A.A.Knopf, 1917
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Page 36 - His soul stretched tight across the skies That fade behind a city block, Or trampled by insistent feet At four and five and six o'clock; And short square fingers stuffing pipes And evening newspapers, and eyes Assured of certain certainties, The conscience of a blackened street Impatient to assume the world.
Page 35 - The winter evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. And now a gusty shower wraps The grimy scraps Of withered leaves about your feet And newspapers from vacant lots; The showers beat On broken blinds and chimney-pots, And at the corner of the street A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. And then the lighting of the lamps.
Page 109 - I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of inflections Or the beauty of innuendoes, The blackbird whistling Or just after.
Page 116 - I when my wife is sleeping and the baby and Kathleen are sleeping and the sun is a flame-white disc in silken mists above shining trees, — if I in my north room dance naked, grotesquely before my mirror waving my shirt round my head and singing softly to myself: "I am lonely, lonely. I was born to be lonely. I am best so!
Page 36 - You tossed a blanket from the bed, You lay upon your back, and waited; You dozed, and watched the night revealing The thousand sordid images Of which your soul was constituted; They flickered against the ceiling.
Page 110 - Why do you imagine golden birds ? Do you not see how the blackbird Walks around the feet Of the women about you ? VIII I know noble accents And lucid, inescapable rhythms; But I know, too,. That the blackbird is involved In what I know. IX When the blackbird flew out of sight, It marked the edge Of one of many circles.
Page 74 - ... into the lawn, and returned to the point from which it had started. Then abandoning the stick as useless and overtaxing its jaws with a particle of whitewash - pill-like but heavy — it again went through the same course of procedure. What is there in being able to say that one has dominated the stream in an attitude of self-defense; in proving that one has had the experience of carrying a stick?
Page 38 - I could see nothing behind that child's eye. I have seen eyes in the street Trying to peer through lighted shutters, And a crab one afternoon in a pool, An old crab with barnacles on his back, Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Page 36 - And when all the world came back And the light crept up between the shutters, And you heard the sparrows in the gutters, You had such a vision of the street As the street hardly understands...
Page 37 - Twelve o'clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Dissolve the floors of memory And all its clear relations, Its divisions and precisions, Every street lamp that I pass Beats like a fatalistic drum, And through the spaces of the dark Midnight shakes the memory As a madman shakes a dead geranium. Half-past one, The...

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