And in the home of the novelist
There is a satin-like bow on an harp.
You enter and pass hall after hall,
Conservatory follows conservatory,
Lilies lift their white symbolical cups,
Whence their symbolical pollen has been excerpted,
Near them I noticed an harp
And the blue satin ribbon,
And the copy of “Hatha Yoga”
And the neat piles of unopened, unopening books,
And she spoke to me of the monarch,
And of the purity of her soul.
VI
Stele
AFTER years of continence
he hurled himself into a sea of six women.
Now, quenched as the brand of Meleagar,
he lies by the poluphloisboious sea-coast.
παραἀ ΘῘνα Πολοϕλοίσβοιο Θαλἀσσης.
Siste Viator.
VII
I Vecchii
THEY will come no more,
The old men with beautiful manners.
Il était comme un tout petit garçon
With his blouse full of apples
And sticking out all the way round;
Blagueur! “Con gli occhi onesti e tardi,”