[BNP/E3, 49A4 – 61-62]

8-9-1915

(about 9.30 p.m)

The equal night troubles the city with rest.

The sickness of faint murmurs fevers low.

As a calm sea whose waves wake to no rest,

My thoughts began lapse into feelings. So

The mingling hours and void spaces here

Into a unity of shadow flow[1].

Oh hour like the approaching of a tear!

This is the mood of void exterior space

When I would fain embark for otherwhere.

Make out to sea within my soul and grass

All the clear capes of my daily life’s here

And into unmeaning ocean lore all trace

Of hope and pain and love and all that hath power

To keep the spirit bent upon the task

Of heeding the felt passing to each hour.

Why is life eer so bitter, since I ask

No boon of it save peace and that each day

May not leave me more

Alas! I am not beautiful nor gay

I have no health, nor strength, nor {…}, nor wit.

My heart is as if youth has passed away

[62r]

2

And all my life mow were the reflecting it.

I have no hope in anything that is,

My very art tastes void when spoken or writ.

Beyond me he untold eternities.

Before me mixed eternities to lie

I brood and thoughts warn like tired gestures †

I feel and feelings ask me for release

From me, and all is this and this is

_______

_____

I am that little child that lost its home

That grey-haried beggar that outside the gate

Saw everything younger that him, to roam 

 
[1] flow /go\