çay

And we have seen night lifted in thine arms.

With a burning spear and a horse of air

Or what sterile lianas are at once your serpents' disguise

I learned the eagerness of youth

Now drooping, woeful wan, like one forlorn,

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

With an host of furious fancies,

A cleft in your chin instead of your foot

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

An afternoon of nurses and rumours;