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Never, never, never.
By the pool, listening,
And again, a third time,
The tears of another,
What is the silence of the night to us?
Over and under and about the silence
Moving over the darkness
Make an end of tears in the night:
In the hush of dawn
The air is crowded and the day alight;
With opals and with lustered silks inlaid . The snow spreads out its long unbroken seas,
And frames each house in candied masquerade
Of quaint and crystaline geometries.
Perhaps the snow is an enchanted rain,
The snow falls thicker, and a spectral night
The stiff and tangled avenues become
Like some vague field of dreams that hides behind
A strange and delicate delirium
The snow seems rising—a fantastic spray
The world is but a shimmering pastel,
The snow has ended and the highways lie
The night is not so silent as the snow
The faery stains that wander to and fro
Are what the night is dreaming in its sleep.
ALLEY AND MESA !
The morning is
THE FLOWERING ACACIA
Over the bending boughs
Out of the dawn