i. m.

A face that, though in shadow, still appears
A graceful Child, his father's joy!
A ship-wrack on his bed, night being past
Abandoned by day in a pinkish lounge, his final
ahv naebawdy
‘Allas!' quaþ he, ‘now me is wo
Almost as true as his kindness, I'll say, almost as true as his laughter, his
labored jokes
Ane faiding flour, away as wind it weiris
Angled to face each other
Are you to leave like this

Before you say
Below this faultless Stone, is laid
Bid mountain-light attend your bower
Brimmer Street irregular! Father's barbarous dress-sword

Carriages, clergymen, unsmiling faces, delicate hands
Cold rivers, colder seas, alas

Death's oompah band

'E weren't no bloomin' 'ero, all 'e did was live an' die
Empire State patrician

Fare-thee-well, o glaikit man
Farewel, more lov'd than any I recal
Father! how soon this night o'er-brims the trees
Fog after dusk, murmuring small requests
Fold the sky in half, shake out the stars
For he is affraid
fus ting dat crazy clack

Go, finde a Store of Tears among the Clouds
God of all things, all things rain and air, all flying things

He gave his Checks - the Whistle blew
He Rambld Ere The Mornings Dews Could Flee
He visited the loft, not long before
He was withouten any peere
He woke again last night, and cried
Here he sat, his face o'ershadowed
Here rests a gentle Man, whose modest Heart
Here shall be rest for evermo
His dreaming eyes, his brow in touch
His hat still on its peg. His shoes lined up
His watch-face like a skating rink
How still the moon-blanch'd sea
‘How's the Humber? How's the wife? Do you remember Lilian?'

I dreamed you stood alone, in No Man's Land
I have seen Him in a meagre light
I sought, ô grassie mountaines, thy constant fellowship
I THOUGHT of Thee, unfathomable one
I took no part
Icy nim-air, a barn done Dinner Street
If Death, growne wearie of his warres
lI laisse tomber son modelling knife, tant pis, tant pis

Lately, I have seen the fellow with his pockets inside out
Lethean foam-flowers rise from the sewers
Like as a winde that fadeth ere blacke night
Lost in the pea-drills behind our house
LOVE NAILS TriBeCa Nails (too much
May his comfy shoes, O Lord
Mr Chips, Bulk Catering
My dreams of thee! How soon the morning comes!
My father had heard tell
My father picked up a stone
My latest thoughts return to thee

nis þer no ni3te
Niver say tha'rt frit o' me
No murmur stirs your room, tonight, no voices call below
No nothin kin explain it, yes indeedy
No winde there blew, the skie was bare of anie bird

O thou whose falt'ring hand the waters tune
O turn thy Waters through my Heart
Oh, sweet was the rain as it fell on Swiss Cottage
Once my Lamentation was an envied horror

Plip plop plip

Sisyphus, your heart
Snow in the branches, where birds perch still as graves
Stars observe, with their flat blank eyes
Sythen in that spote hit fro me sprange

That was a crappy bookstore smell,jeez.Old guys
The fields of snow did breathe
The laundromat is crowded. Every ghost
The sea it was brazen and icy
The Show'r come down on Tory and Whig, Dust gone to Mud
The stairs became more difficult
Thy Exile from this World, deare Friend
Thy Publick Virtue, Father, all attest
'Tis three years since, his grave is bare

Uh-oh
Vnmesurable greiff, Alas! how straunge is this
Voices on the wireless

We are becoming
Weepe with me, to night, all hope is over-come
Well, then! Let no man disapprove
When first your slender breath
When the evenèn wind do blow vrom zight
Where rootless poppies lie
Who could not stay a while

Yf all my wordes were raine upon thy grave
Yonder
You could not face me, then
You could not speak, nor even smile, before you turned
You cupped one hand to catch the crumbs
Your hands