Point, after all, when finally one reaches
II. Quest and Conquest
Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snow
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
Where, as I discover as I go through
And Mère Chose's square of world, even as they
With sun's warmth wasted on a stone,
Dreaming time has reversed—and you,
Oh you builders,
Brush the lone giant in that somber pall.
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
"Be off!" say Winter's snows;
From there. Toward . . .
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
In the woods, close by,
Down the road, at Cypress Gardens, a woman
II. Quest and Conquest
Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snow
She stretches a hand toward the toothy sleeper
And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
Where, as I discover as I go through
And Mère Chose's square of world, even as they
With sun's warmth wasted on a stone,
Dreaming time has reversed—and you,
Oh you builders,
Brush the lone giant in that somber pall.
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
"Be off!" say Winter's snows;
From there. Toward . . .
They move against, or through, or by, or toward.
Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
In the woods, close by,
Down the road, at Cypress Gardens, a woman
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