How can we know the dancer from the dance?
O but we dreamed to mend Whatever mischief seemed To afflict mankind, but now That winds of winter blow Learn that we were crack-pated when we dreamed.
Man can embody truth but he cannot know it.
And a softness came from the starlight and filled me full to the bone.
What shall I do for pretty girls Now my old bawd is dead?
The unpurged images of day recede; The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed; Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song After great cathedral gong.