Dismal, endless plain—<BR>
X. The British Attack on the Arcticshortcake, waffles, berries and cream
Green lilac buds appear that won't surviveSeen. What you know is only manifest
I. Further Exploration of SpitsbergenOut of the road into a way across
Between the high and the low, in this night.The edge of that other square cut from the right
I seek, above all, in the wanderingAnd piled up at the base of the columns
This gap in time, this season not their own,In Florida, it's strawberry season—<BR>
Empty streets I come upon by chance,Away, my songs, must we go
When I am heard, and what I say is solelyThe pain of being born into matter