Whence came wind;
The trail grew shallow,
And so did the fields,
Stood clean and yellow..

Forget ! lo this charm;
Sneak my mind of time,
On fragile edge of course,
stood blossom wild lime..

lo this farms of maize;
Trenched aloof nadir,
As to the tall Emirates,
Lie down wrecked and stir..

lo the smell, lo the hues;
hold in fist, glibs and woes,
All empty though suffice;
Tacit acts caught in a noose..

lo the worms, lo the birds;
maize tho sheep, came in herds,
With cold shrills and musky grass;
Came tho shepherd too absurd..

Alas ! these bricks, break tho stone;
Alas ! the lime stands alone,
save o save, thee lose its breath;
Don’t wither o heart ! Let it mourn.

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