Wednesday, September 24, 2008



I dwell alone—
In world of moan
And my soul comes and
Goes like a stagnant old tide
How many scenes of departed bliss
How many thoughts of entombed hopes
How many hyacinthine purple-ensembles gay
How many satins and jewels off to the graveyard
How many hearts broken beneath Eldorado dreams
How many tottering moons falling from tortured skies
How many sighing and sobbing sad has-been poets
How many times extinguished Puritan pansies
How many moon-tints of purple and pearl
How many careless curls hiding her eyes
How many times Eulalie’s gone smiles
How many flaking sapphires
Till Eulalie my dead bride
Comes back to me?

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