Wanting Sumptuous Heavens

The speckled pigeon standing on the ledge
Outside the window is Jack Kennedy—
Standing on one leg and looking jerkily around
And staring straight into the room at me.

Ask not what your country can do for you—
Ask what you can do for your country.
Here’s how.
That wouldn’t be the way I’d do it.

for John At a party I spy a handsome psychiatrist,
And wish, as we all do, to get her advice for free.

“The art of our necessities is strange,
That can make vile things precious.” A mile out in the marshes, under a sky
Which seems to be always going away

Salvation comes by Jesus Christ alone,
The only Son of God;
Redemption now to every one,
That love his holy Word.
Dear Jesus we would fly to Thee,
And leave off every Sin,
Thy Tender Mercy well agree;
Salvation from our King.

I
Land of Refuge

A mountain of white ice
standing still
in the water
here forty fathoms deep
and flowing swiftly
from the north;

I

Complacencies of the peignoir, and late
Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair,
And the green freedom of a cockatoo
Upon a rug mingle to dissipate
The holy hush of ancient sacrifice.
She dreams a little, and she feels the dark

But do not let us quarrel any more,
No, my Lucrezia; bear with me for once:
Sit down and all shall happen as you wish.
You turn your face, but does it bring your heart?
I'll work then for your friend's friend, never fear,
Treat his own subject after his own way,
Fix his own time, accept too his own price,
And shut the money into this small hand
When next it takes mine. Will it? tenderly?
Oh, I'll content him,—but to-morrow, Love!
I often am much wearier than you think,
This evening more than usual, and it seems
As if—forgive now—should you let me sit
Here by the window with your hand in mine
And look a half-hour forth on Fiesole,

mon semblable, mon frère (1)
Our epoch takes a voluptuous satisfaction

When first I walked here I hobbled
along ties set too close together
for a boy to step easily on each.
I thought my stride one day
would reach every other and from then on
I would walk in time with the way
toward that Lobachevskian haze
up ahead where the two rails meet.