The bibulous eagle behind me at the ball game:
" Shucks a'mighty! " coming through the rye
And Seven-Up, " I didn't mean to kick you, lady.
When you go to the Eagles' convention, you just go ! "
Then he needles the batter from Sacramento:
" Too much ego! " he yells. " The old ego curse,
That'll hex him. The old ego never fails.
See? " he says to his phlegmatic friend,
" The bastard fanned! " And " Shucks a'mighty! "
Says again, an American from an English novel,
Named Horace or Homer, a strange colonial bird,

Beyond the sea, I know not where,
There is a town called Viverols;
I know not if 'tis near or far,
I know not what its features are,
I only know 'tis Viverols.

I know not if its ancient walls
By vine and moss be overgrown;
I know not if the night-owl calls
From feudal battlements of stone,
Inhabited by him alone.

I know not if mid meadow-lands
Knee-deep in corn stands Viverols;
I know not if prosperity
Has robbed its life of poesy;
That could not be in Viverols,
They would not call it Viverols.

Beyond the low marsh-meadows and the beach,
Seen through the hoary trunks of windy pines,
The long blue level of the ocean shines.
The distant surf, with hoarse, complaining speech,
Out from its sandy barrier seems to reach;
And while the sun behind the woods declines,
The moaning sea with sighing boughs combines,
And waves and pines make answer, each to each.
O melancholy soul, whom far and near,
In life, faith, hope, the same sad undertone
Pursues from thought to thought! thou needs must hear
An old refrain, too much, too long thine own:

Beyond the Chiltern coast, this church:
A lighthouse in dry seas of standing corn.
Bees hive in the tower; the outer stone
Pared and frittered in sunlight, flakes with the years:
Clunch crumbles, but silence, exaltation endures.

The brass-robed Rector stretched on his tomb endures.
Within, we go upon the dragon and the bat,
Walk above the world, without,
Uplifted among lavender, beech and sycamore,
Shades of the sea-born chalk, indelible and austere.

If we see history from this hill
It is upon its own conditions, here

Beyond the bourn of mortal death and birth,
Two lovers — parted sorrowing on earth —
Met in the land of dim and ghostly space.
Wondering, he gazed on her illumined face:
" Alone you bear the burden now, " he said,
" Of bondage; mine is ended, — I am dead. "
With rapturous note of victory, she cried,
" The Lord of Life be praised! I, too, have died. "

Beyond my sight, deep into the darkness, the anchor chain disappears on the face of the sea.
Beyond my sight, high into the darkness, the halyard escapes toward the mast.
My light is meager. It can only shine on my blind face.
Staring at me in the distance, in the darkness I cannot see, a gull called.

The bewty of hir amorus ene,
Quhen I behald my lady bricht,
Dois pers my Hairt with dairtis kene,
I am so reft be luvis micht;
Rest man I nocht day nor nycht,
My hairt is so in hir service,
Quhilk is the verry lantrene lycht,
Off womanheid ane flour delice.

Scho is the preclair portratour
Fulfillit with all lustines,
Of puchritud the fair figour,
The mirrour eik of all meiknes,
The verry stapill of steidfastnes,
Off flurist fame the strang pavice;
Scho is the gem of gentilnes,
Off womanheid ane flour delice.

Beware the deadly Sitting habit,
Or, if you sit, be like the rabbit,
Who keepeth ever on the jump
By springs concealed beneath his rump.

A little ginger 'neath the tail
Will oft for lack of brains avail;
Eschew the dull and slothful Seat,
And move about with willing feet!

Man was not made to sit a-trance,
And press, and press, and press his pants;
But rather, with an open mind,
To circulate among his kind.

And so, my son, avoid the snare
Which lurks within a cushioned chair;
To run like hell, it has been found,

I ran into Tu Fu by a Rice Grain Mountain,
In a bamboo hat with the sun at high noon.
Hasn't he got awfully thin since our parting?
It must be the struggle of writing his poems.

A Queen Mother of the West peach tree is planted in my yard;
After three thousand warming springs,
it finally had a flower.
This strain and delay producing a fruit
was laughed at all around,
But when I climbed up to pick it, aah, aah, I sighed aloud.