My father and my mother
They had a likely son,
And I have none.




XV

EIGHT O'CLOCK

He stood, and heard the steeple
Sprinkle the quarters on the morning town.
One, two, three, four, to market-place and people
It tossed them down.

Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour,
He stood and counted them and cursed his luck;
And then the clock collected in the tower
Its strength, and struck.




XVI

SPRING MORNING

Star and coronal and bell
April underfoot renews,