Ezra Pound

When I am oldI will not have you look
From me, into the cold,
Friend of my heart,
Nor be sad in your

Earth's winter
And I being part of
And sith the spirit of all moveth in meI must needs bear earth's
Drawn cold and grey with

Come, my songs, let us express our baser passions
Let us express our envy for the man with a steady job and no worry about the future
You are very idle, my songs,
I fear you will come to a bad end

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;petals on a wet, black bough.

Empty are the ways,
Empty are the ways of this land And the flowers Bend over with heavy heads
They bend in vain
Empty are the ways of this land Where Ione Walked once, and now does not walk But seems like a person just gone...

O fan of white silk,clear as frost on the grass-blade,
You also are laid aside

I do not choose to dream; there cometh on
Some strange old lust for deeds
As to the nerveless hand of some old
The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted

O chansons foregoing You were a seven days' wonder
When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in Chicago,
And now you are stale and worn out,
You're a very depleted fashion,

Lord God of heaven that with mercy dight Th'alternate prayer wheel of the night and light Eternal hath to thee, and in whose sight Our days as rain drops in the sea surge fall,
As bright white drops upon a leaden sea Grant so my songs to this...

No, no
Go from me
I have left her lately
I will not spoil my sheath with lesser brightness,

Wal,
Thanksgivin' do be comin' round
With the price of turkeys on the bound,
And coal, by gum

No man hath dared to write this thing as yet,
And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us,
And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls
Thus am I Dante for a space and am ...