And only Time's slow chisel work their death.

 If out of those embedded purple blooms Were quarried cups to hold the purple wine, Greek drinkers thought the glorious, maddening fumes Were cooled with radiance of that gem divine. 

Were quarried cups to hold the purple wine,

Were cooled with radiance of that gem divine.

 Might I so wed the crystal and the grape, Passion's red heart and plastic Art's endeavor, Delirium should take on immortal shape, Dancing and blushing in strong rock forever. 

Passion's red heart and plastic Art's endeavor,

Dancing and blushing in strong rock forever.

 

 

   KATY DID 

 In a windy tree-top sitting, Singing at the fall of dew, Katy watched the bats a-flitting, While the twilight's curtains drew Closer round her; till she only Saw the branches and the sky— Rocking late and rocking lonely, Anchored on the darkness high. And the song that she was singing, In the windy tree-tops swinging, Was under the tree, under the tree The fox is digging a pit for me. 

In a windy tree-top sitting,

Singing at the fall of dew,

Katy watched the bats a-flitting,

While the twilight's curtains drew

Closer round her; till she only

Saw the branches and the sky—

Rocking late and rocking lonely,

Anchored on the darkness high.

 Prev. P 10/43 next