Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/114

POETRY: A Magazine of Verse Whistle about us their spontaneous cries; Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness; And, in the isolation of the sky, At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make Ambiguous undulations as they sink, Downward to darkness, on extended wings.

Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams