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AMORY, SON OF BEATRICE
SPIRES AND GARGOYLES
THE EGOTIST CONSIDERS
NARCISSUS OFF DUTY
THE DEBUTANTE
EXPERIMENTS IN CONVALESCENCE
YOUNG IRONY
THE SUPERCILIOUS SACRIFICE
THE EGOTIST BECOMES A PERSONAGE

And slender tenuous thunder... 

But I wait... 

Wait for the mists and for the blacker rain-- 

Heavier winds that stir the veil of fate, 

Happier winds that pile her hair; 

Again 

They tear me, teach me, strew the heavy air 

Upon me, winds that I know, and storm. 

 

There was a summer every rain was rare; 

There was a season every wind was warm.... 

And now you pass me in the mist... your hair 

Rain-blown about you, damp lips curved once more 

In that wild irony, that gay despair 

That made you old when we have met before; 

Wraith-like you drift on out before the rain, 

Across the fields, blown with the stemless flowers, 

With your old hopes, dead leaves and loves again-- 

Dim as a dream and wan with all old hours 

(Whispers will creep into the growing dark... 

Tumult will die over the trees) 

Now night 

Tears from her wetted breast the splattered blouse 

Of day, glides down the dreaming hills, tear-bright, 

To cover with her hair the eerie green... 

Love for the dusk... Love for the glistening after; 

Quiet the trees to their last tops... serene... 

 

Faint winds, and far away a fading laughter..." 


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