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Mortuus Est

       Pastoral

       Assault

       I

       II

       Travel

       Low-Tide

       Song of a Second April

       The Poet and his Book

       Alms

       Inland

       To a Poet that Died Young

       Wraith

       Ebb

       Elaine

       Burial

       Mariposa

       Doubt no more that Oberon

       Lament

       Exiled

       The Death of Autumn

       Ode to Silence

       Memorial to D. C.

       I Epitaph

       II Prayer to Persephone

       III Chorus

       IV Elegy

       V Dirge

       Sonnets

       I

       II

       III

       IV

       V

       VI

       VII

       VIII

       IX

       X

       XI

       XII

       Wild Swans

SECTION ONE

       Table of Contents

Renascence

       Table of Contents

      All I could see from where I stood

       Was three long mountains and a wood;

       I turned and looked another way,

       And saw three islands in a bay.

       So with my eyes I traced the line

       Of the horizon, thin and fine,

       Straight around till I was come

       Back to where I’d started from

       And all I saw from where I stood

       Was three long mountains and a wood.

       Over these things I could not see:

       These were the things that bounded me;

       And I could touch them with my hand,

       Almost, I thought, from where I stand.

       And all at once things seemed so small

       My breath came short, and scarce at all.

       But, sure, the sky is big, I said;

       Miles and miles above my head;

       So here upon my back I’ll lie

       And look my fill into the sky.

       And so I looked, and, after all,

       The sky was not so very tall.

       The sky, I said, must somewhere stop,

       And—sure enough!—I see the top!

       The sky, I thought, is not so grand;

       I ’most could touch it with my hand!

       And reaching up my hand to try,

       I screamed to feel it touch the sky.

      I screamed, and—lo!—Infinity

       Came down and settled over me;

       Forced back my scream into my chest,

       Bent back my arm upon my breast,

       And, pressing of the Undefined

       The definition on my mind,

       Held up before my eyes a glass

       Through which my shrinking sight did pass

       Until it seemed I must behold

       Immensity made manifold;

       Whispered to me a word whose

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