The earth builds on the earth …
Marjorie Pickthall
When the first dark had fallen around them …
See, the grass is full of stars, …
I chose the place where I would rest …
Give me a few more hours to pass …
Under the level winter sky …
I shall not go with pain …
Now in the West the slender moon lies low, …
Out of the winds' and the waves' riot, …
Living, I had no might …
I gave my thoughts a golden peach, …
I have not walked on common ground, …