et America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on…
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances. God’s lioness, How one we grow, Pivot of…
A noiseless, patient spider, I mark’d, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated; Mark’d how, to explore the vacant,…
I have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door; The…
Star in the window. Slate scrape. Bird or branch? Or the whet and scud of steel on placid ice? Not…