Page:The Dial (Volume 68).djvu/34

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SEVEN POEMS

to many things and whichdiei have been sometimes trueto Nothing and which lives
they were fond of the handsomemoon       never spoke ill of thepretty stars        and tothe serene the complicated
and the obviousthey were faithfuland which i despise,frankly
admitting i have been trueonly to the noise of wormsin the eligible dayunder the unaccountable sun)
Distinct Ladyswiftly takemy fragile certain songthat we may watch together
how behind the doomedexact smile of life'splacid obscure palpablecarnival where to a normal
melody of probable violins dancethe square virtues with the oblong sinsperfectlygesticulate the accurate
strenuous lips of incorruptibleNothing         under the amplesun, under the insufficientday under the noise of worms


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