curves in a rush to the heart of the vast Flower: the day has begun. 

  

  

       WINTER-LULL     

      Because of the silent snow, we are all hushed Into awe. No sound of guns, nor overhead no rushed Vibration to draw Our attention out of the void wherein we are crushed. A crow floats past on level wings Noiselessly. Uninterrupted silence swings Invisibly, inaudibly To and fro in our misgivings. We do not look at each other, we hide Our daunted eyes. White earth, and ruins, ourselves, and nothing beside. It all belies Our existence; we wait, and are still denied. We are folded together, men and the snowy ground Into nullity. There is silence, only the silence, never a sound Nor a verity To assist us; disastrously silence-bound! 

  

  

       THE ATTACK     

 WHEN we came out of the wood Was a great light! The night uprisen stood In white. I wondered, I looked around It was so fair. The bright Stubble upon the ground Shone white Like any field of snow; Yet warm the chase Of faint night-breaths did go Across my face! White-bodied and warm the night was, Sweet-scented to hold in my throat. White and alight the night was. A pale stroke smote The pulse through the whole bland being Which was This and me; A pulse that still went fleeing, Yet did not flee. After the terrible rage, the death, This wonder stood glistening? All shapes of wonder, with suspended breath, Arrested listening In ecstatic reverie. The whole, white Night!—      With wonder, every black tree Blossomed outright. I saw the transfiguration And the present Host. Transubstantiation Of the Luminous Ghost. 

  

  

       OBSEQUIAL ODE     

 SURELY you've trodden straight To the very door! Surely you took your fate Faultlessly. Now it's too late To say more. It is evident you were right, That man has a course to go A voyage to sail beyond the charted 

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