When two close kindred meet What better than call a dance?.

Life moves out of a red flare of dreams Into a common light of common hours, Until old age brings the red flare again.

A mermaid found a swimming lad, Picked him up for her own, Pressed her body to his body, Laughed; and plunging down Forgot in cruel happiness That even lovers drown.

I carry from my mother's womb a fanatic's heart.

The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams, Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.

For to articulate sweet sounds together Is to work harder than all these, and yet Be thought an idler by the noisy set Of bankers, schoolmasters, and clergymen The martyrs call the world.