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MEDITATIONS
27
A barricade of stone or of wood;
Some fourteen days of civil war;
Last night they trundled down the road
That dead young soldier in his blood:
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
Some fourteen days of civil war;
Last night they trundled down the road
That dead young soldier in his blood:
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
We had fed the heart on fantasies,
The heart's grown brutal from the fare,
More substance in our enmities
Than in our love; oh, honey-bees
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
The heart's grown brutal from the fare,
More substance in our enmities
Than in our love; oh, honey-bees
Come build in the empty house of the stare.
VII
I SEE PHANTOMS OF HATRED AND OF
THE HEART'S FULLNESS AND OF
THE COMING EMPTINESS
I SEE PHANTOMS OF HATRED AND OF
THE HEART'S FULLNESS AND OF
THE COMING EMPTINESS
I climb to the tower top and lean upon broken stone,
A mist that is like blown snow is sweeping over all,
A mist that is like blown snow is sweeping over all,
