1At five precisely out went La Marquise
2when masons clutch the breath we held on loan
3his toga rumpled high above his knees
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5They both are right not untamed mutterings
6the North Wind Bites into his architrave
7they both are right not unformed smatterings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10one tongue will do to keep the verse agog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12No need to cart such treasures from the fog
13on fish-slab whale nor seal has never swum
14a wise loaf always knows its humblest crumb
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