In A Station Of The Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;petals on a wet, black bough.
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;petals on a wet, black bough.
Hymn to the
Goddess of the murmuring courts,
Nicotine, my Nicotine,
Houri of the mystic sports,trailing-robed in gabardine,
O fan of white silk,clear as frost on the grass-blade,
You also are laid aside
O generation of the thoroughly smug and thoroughly uncomfortable,
I have seen fishermen picnicking in the sun,
I have seen them with untidy families,
I have seen their smiles full of teeth and heard ungainly laughter
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
When I behold how black, immortal
Drips from my deathless pen - ah, well-away
Why should we stop at all for what I think
There is enough in what I chance to say
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,
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...
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 ...
Lady of rich allure,
Queen of the spring's embrace,
Your arms are long like boughs of ash,
Mid laugh-broken streams, spirit of rain unsure,