And In My Flower-beds, I Think, Smile

Mud Unto Mud!--death Eddies Near-- Not Here The Appointed End, Not Here! But Somewhere, Beyond Space And Time, Is Wetter Water, Slimier Slime!

I Have A Thousand Images Of You In An Hour; All Different And All Coming Back To The Same. I Think Of You Once Against A Sky Line: And On The Hill That Sunday Morning. The Light And The Shadow And Quietness And The Rain And The Wood. And You. Your Arms And Lips And Hair And Shoulders And Voice - You.

But There's Wisdom In Women, Of More Than They Have Known, And Thoughts Go Blowing Through Them, Are Wiser Than Their Own.

Blow Out, You Bugles, Over The Rich Dead! There's None Of These So Lonely And Poor Of Old, But, Dying, Has Made Us Rarer Gifts Than Gold.

But Somewhere, Beyond Space And Time, Is Wetter Water, Slimier Slime! And There (they Trust) There Swimmeth One Who Swam Ere Rivers Were Begun, Immense Of Fishy Form And Mind, Squamous Omnipotent, And Kind.