The Quivering Of Psyche's Butterflies.

Let Love Step Down, Open The Clasped Hands, Forfeit The Thorny Crown, Retrieve The Garment That Was Whole, Body And Spirit One, Spirit And Soul.

It Is No Madness To Say You Will Fall, You Great Cities.

My Eye-balls Are Glass, My Limbs Marble, My Face Fixed In Its Marble Mask.

War Is A Fevered God Who Takes Alike Maiden And King And Clod.

When The Shingles Hissed In The Rain Incendiary, Other Values Were Revealed To Us