"Night of Unshed Tears
Skies have been bound with such pent airs,
The moon, that mad for brighness stares
Off the black bitter peak of night,
That purest curving crystal even,
Which wasted to a horn trails light,
Moves veiled and brooding over heaven
With cloud like heavy waters flowing,
And every burnished star sunk deep.
But though the heavens be proud, they weep.
The heaven has wept and thou hast known
Orion, thr round liquid moon,
And all washt brightness showing."
--Those Not Elect
"Water-bulrush, water-willow
From the margin of the hollow
Shade thy bed and shape thy pillow,
Time be slow and apple-mellow..."
--Rolfe Humphries
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