Page:American Poetry 1922.djvu/66



flower is repeated out of old winds, out of old times.

The wind repeats these, it must have these, over and over again.

Oh, windflowers so fresh, Oh, beautiful leaves, here now again.

The domes over fall to pieces. The stones under fall to pieces. Rain and ice wreck the works. The wind keeps, the windflowers keep, the leaves last, The wind young and strong lets these last longer than stones. 52