one's life and space [Full Poem] [Temp. 0.302]

one's life and space,
And the other hand that seems to save the streets alone,
And the fields who have not seen the world of the soul.
  The maiden of the world over and a snake,
And all the world was not to be a word to them that has not call'd the rest.
I am a fool-side in the midst of the woods,
A man who has never come to the other way,
I too am a main too much of a starvation,
And I saw them and the soul of my life and belonging to me.
I am a fool--be wise to me, I believe in the
    freshness of the soul,
For I knew something in the midst of you, and what is it that it was
    and what I will never love?

     31
I know the soul of me,
I see what the far-springers are coming there.
I tried to prove the truth is told,
I stop to the stars and stars and stones,
I do not know what I will never love you.
The soul is not more than a man who has been looking at my pallid life and belonging me in the woods,
    and stretch of water,
    crush'd and spies and streets and bright and blue;
    my darling stars the strongest summer ever with the shadowy storms,
    and the moon is on the river of the sun,
    the sea-birds of the sparrows of the sun,
    and the streets of the stars and the bells,
    and the streets of the white woods and stones,
    and the streets of the bells, the streets of the sky,
    and the wars of the streets the streets of the walls
    and the steambrature of the soul,
    they bear themselves the streets of the land of the heart
    and the streets of the storms,
    and the sun will be an endless flag,
     And the streets that the light waits to the sky,
     And the dead stranger to the stars they make
     The stars that stretch the silent spirits wait,
     The stars that live within the sky
         The sun and the season to the stream.
         The watch of the strength of the streets
         The storm of the stars and the dead.
     "The soul will still assume the stars they dream,
         Or the sound of the bells are stranded,
         And the winds are still as thou art.
         But the first power that wants to go,
         And the strength of the stars will stand
         The sound of the flowers so stranger;
         Then the sun was the spirit,
         The spirit of the spring
         Of the spirit of the stream,
         And the storm of the stream below,
         And the stream of flowers are flowing
         The stranded stars that the same shines
         In strength and high and silent silence.
     The winds were spread the waves and hearts of stars,
         And the stars stretch the stone to star,
         The spirit of the sun the streams
         Which seems to die to stand.

with a black stone of space