- 1. To Emily Dickinson
Dear Emily, my tears would burn your page,
But for the fire-dry line that makes them burnâ??
Burning my eyes, my fingers, while I turn
Singly the words that crease my heart with age.
...
- 2. The Slow Pacific Swell
Far out of sight forever stands the sea,
Bounding the land with pale tranquillity.
When a small child, I watched it from a hill
At thirty miles or more. The vision still
...
- 3. John Sutter
I was the patriarch of the shining land,
Of the blond summer and metallic grain;
Men vanished at the motion of my hand,
And when I beckoned they would come again.
...
- 4. A Song In Passing
Where am I now? And what
Am I to say portends?
Death is but death, and not
The most obtuse of ends.
...
- 5. The Moralists
You would extend the mind beyond the act,
Furious, bending, suffering in thin
And unpoetic dicta; you have been
Forced by hypothesis to fiercer fact.
...
- 6. To A Young Writer
Achilles Holt, Stanford, 1930
Here for a few short years
Strengthen affections; meet,
...
- 7. To The Holy Spirit
Immeasurable haze:
The desert valley spreads
Up golden river-beds
As if in other days.
...
