Read out my words at night, alone: I was a poet, I was young.

304

The poet's business is not to save the soul of man but to make it worth saving.

166

For one night or the other night / Will come the Gardener in white, and gathered flowers are dead, Yasmin.

161

Neon strikes on England, noon on Oxford town,Beauty she was statue cold - there's blood upon her gown.

153

I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep / Beyond the village which men still call Tyre.

151

West of these out to seas colder than the Hebrides I must go, / Where the fleet of stars is anchored and the young star-captains glow.

150

When the great markets by the sea shut fast / All that calm Sunday that goes on and on: / When even lovers find their peace at last,/ And Earth is but a star, that once had shone.

145

Half to forget the wandering and pain,/ Half to remember days that have gone by,/ And dream and dream that I am home again!

138

For pines are gossip pines the wide world through.

124