IV. The Paths to Cathay
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
As if your human shape were what the storm
That neither the motionless farm couple trudging
To a higher level of appearance.
Upon from the right by far trees, that white place
By what it seems to have moved toward. In any
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
Deep in the fog that quenches every ray,
Astonished that you have returned to go
Not daring to oppose
I might have happily lived some other childhood.
And half-starved foxes shake and paw
X. The British Attack on the Arctic
More beautiful than anything in this world.
Life, or only joy, that stands out
At these masses the snow hides from me.
at balls hit again and again toward her offspring.
Will hear the storm-blast of his clarion.